The Grid and Other Places

ANNOUNCEMENT

2011-12-31T20:43:43Z

All new posts after this point should be made at the Dreamwidth community.

I wonder if those changes have left a scar on you

2011-12-23T06:37:09Z

Who: The Twins and anybody else
Where: The Park
When: Right about now
Warnings: Doubtful

The twins had decided that it was time for them to get out and about again, realizing that they'd been far too insulated in the Arena. They were busy, sure, and they liked the work they did, they were also planning an exhibition soon, but they weren't quite prepared for that yet. In any case: they'd scheduled themselves a free block of time to just get out in the City, which inevitably led them to the park, arm in arm, taking in the sights.

There weren't many who had seen them outside of their natural habitat, and so the pair of tall, white-clad programs, moving in their usual near-perfect synchronization (not necessarily in unison, as they did move independently of each other, but still almost perfectly aligned) did cause a bit of stir, luckily mostly friendly and curious, which they were fine with, being friendly sorts themselves.

When they'd first re-rezzed it was in the park, but they hadn't really been back since, which was part of the reason for their visit that day, the other part was that they were planning on using space on one of the upper levels for their exhibition, and they needed to check the space itself, get a feel for it.

One night it was raining hard

2011-12-21T18:18:01Z

Who: Anon, Drive and Wulf
Where: City core, near Wulf's clinic
When: Immediately after this thread.
What: Anon returns badly damaged from fighting Abraxas.
Warnings: Program injuries, mentions of violence.

By the time Anon made it back from the outlying sector where he'd found Abraxas, his circuitry was flickering worse than it had after he'd fallen from a Recognizer the second time. He'd alerted Security to the mostly-collapsed building and the corruption there via his data pad, and had then hung grimly on to the handlebars and concentrated on getting back to somewhere he could get repaired.

Now that combat-priority mode had deactivated, he didn't have much to distract him from the injuries. The worst was the arm wound, the virus shards still glowing a spiteful yellow and ripping pain through his bicep every time he tried to move it.

The 'cycle began to slow, blinking in time with his circuits. Anon tried to push it faster, but it refused to obey, slowing even further until it gently dissolved under him and dropped him face-first on the road. He staggered to his feet and moved to the sidewalk, clipping his baton back on in a move that would never have happened if it hadn't been automatic.

Where was Wulf's clinic from here . . .?

[OOC: List of Anon's injuries:
Severe energy drain.
Deep disc cut with embedded virus disc shards in his right bicep.
Torn circuit on his right shoulder.
Burned (missing outer layer of voxels) soles of both feet.
Burned the palms and fingers of both hands.
Long thin disc cut of the back of his left calf.
Minor scrapes from getting out of the falling building.
(There's no actual infection, since his code rejected the corruption, but the effects on him (the burns) are still there.) It's unlikely that the virus shards on their own will infect anyone, since Clu picked one up in the game and nothing happened to him.]

The heart may freeze, or it can burn

2011-12-21T05:24:52Z

Who: Quorra and you!
Where: Near the Sea
When: recently!
Warnings: currently none

Quorra was settled on her usual rock by the Sea, well out of the way of the tide, and also out of reach of the spray, because she knew better than to take chances with the toxic Sea. She always perched on the same rock, just a step up from ground level, and at a comfortable angle for settling in to think and to reconnect.

Flynn had always said he was knocking on the sky, but for Quorra meditation was more grounding than anything, even while she was deep in her processes she was always fully aware of her surroundings, connected to it all. From the static hiss of the sea, to the stable almost-void of her usual perch, to the quiet hum of the Grid itself, almost inaudible out this far, but still there all the same. She always called that bubble of awareness her 'sphere of influence' just because she liked the phrase.

Meditating was always the first thing she did whenever she returned to the Grid, something to re-align herself with the flow of energy there. It was something she never forgot the feel of, the shape of, but energy was different on the outside, and so she'd learned to re-acclimate herself.

Fill my glass high, the time has come

2011-12-20T07:07:09Z

Who: Dolly and anybody who shows up
Where: End of Line
When: Early evening-ish
Warnings: I hope not!

So far it was a quiet shift, but that was just fine with Dolly, and it made sense, what with danger on the rise again. She didn't mind it being quiet, since it meant she got more face time with the customers that were there, all the regulars, and she knew it would pick up at least a little as the night went on. She was making the rounds, chatting and charming in equal measure, because it was just the way she operated.

It had been as easy as anything for her to fall back into her routine, and as much as she liked Lizor, and was grateful to him for helping her out when she'd first arrived, she was starting to miss Hopper, the original bouncer. They'd been a pair after all, both the first of their kind, the templates, and while there had never been anything exclusive between the two, they looked after each other, and they had fun doing it and Dolly had begun to miss that easy camaraderie.

R3SET

2011-12-19T20:02:35Z

Who: AU!Jalen paying a visit
Where: Grid Arcade
When: Now, or as close as possible.
What: Jalen, if he'd lived, if everything had been different, and Clu actually been a nice guy.
Warnings: Angst. Random hugging? Violence only if your character attacks first - he's a Disk Wars champion, though, be warned.

Alright. A full millicycle's delay had been concerning, but by the time Flynn made it through the digitization portal, alone, Jalen was officially worried. That worry only got worse, too, as time passed, and no matter what assurances Yori gave him, the simple truth was; Clu's coding was simply not in the cache.
There were reasons why that could be, speculation about what happened, that his friend was only suspended in stasis, alright, safe. But...not present.

Jalen was still worried.

When, finally, Radia found him, he had already made up his mind to go find Clu, and crash the consequences. She was understandably upset about it, and had tried to talk him into staying. That he was needed, that there were so many projects dependent on him. Jalen, calmly, had argued back that he had several trained teams both for construction, and transport that could, and did handle things in his absence when he had to travel to subsystems. That if something had happened, he was the best candidate to have a hope of finding out what. Radia was needed here, and she knew it, but he could see it in her eyes; she wanted to go with him.
But someone had to stay with Flynn. Someone must remain the responsible one, and she has always been best at that.

Tron had also argued that he should go, and it was a needless risk for Jalen to personally risk the obviously unknown glitch with the portal, and for the first time in cycles, Jalen had actually pulled rank, and stated that if there was danger, it was his job to analyze it. He was in charge of the imports, and exports coming through the portal daily. The Portal, of course, has been closed since "the incident" but under admin's orders, the cordon was lifted, and Jalen went through.

---

Something, of course, was very wrong here. This vintage construction, the small, dark subsystem lighting, and the unfamiliar coding in the constructs of this place scream one thing to Jalen; Piracy. Someone must have got their hands on Encom technology, and created their own subsystem, detached from the network, and were up to who knows what in here!

Jalen, feeling an uncommon sense of real anger, stalked his way out of the arcade - another bit of similarity that adds to the scowl on his face - and found the first terminal he could. His overrides entered.

"I am co-admin for the primary grid, and network hub supervisor Jalen. You are in possession of an illegal subsystem, and guilty of kidnapping. Return co-admin Clu now, and the only legal ramifications you will face will be digital-based. Earth laws are very prohibitive against violation of the Geneva Convention."

There! That should do for his purposes.

((OOC: Please excuse the rushed icons, but this is AU!Jalen from nice!Clu's grid. ~~He's trying very hard to seem intimidating, too.~~ ))

Stranger and stranger...

2011-12-15T07:17:58Z

Who: Tron and you!

Where: On the way home. Or what was home.
When: Now!
What: A day of relaxing gaming ends in a very unexpected, unauthorized relocation of one very grouchy resource.
Warnings: None

The corridor out of the Arena into the streets was long-since quiet. All of the spectators had gone home for the evening, and the crowds had finally dispersed enough to allow Tron to slip out of the double doors into relative peace, boots tapping softly on the sidewalk as she made her way home.

She didn't often allow herself the chance to spend time in the games these days. Time was usually swallowed completely with running the Grid, coordinating between Sam and Alanis-1 on building and expanding, and ensuring that the external connection to the internet was kept safely secured against unauthorized transfers. The chance to blow off some much-needed steam was always a welcome one. But in the end, it had left her blissfully exhausted, her circuits aching with the aftereffects of the overcharge of combat.

The walk was, at least at first, completely uneventful. She was able to use the time to work out most of the kinks from her system, stretching her legs and cooling down on the way home. But somewhere around the fifth quadrant of Gamma sector, a strange tingling in the air made her slow, her active scans flaring to life as she focused instantly, glancing around for signs of what had caused the subtle disturbance.

She didn't have enough time to react when a strange flash overcame her, making her freeze and hang up violently for a number of long, agonizing breaths. When the flash went away, she stumbled, glancing up and looking around in complete confusion as she registered the area she was in had changed inexplicably, the layout of the modified and adjusted to accommodate a series of brand new buildings that she didn't recognize from the others.

That was what sent her staggering backward into the street, her eyes gazing up and around in utter shock, unsure what had just occurred or why.

And this time I think you'll know...

2011-12-14T06:23:54Z

Who: Clu 1 and Flynn
Where: A quiet part of the park
When: Backdated to after the conclusion of the labirynth thread and Rinzler's escape, and shortly before Roy and the two Rams leave the Grid for awhile.
What: Clu seeks Flynn out for some assistance encrypting a message... and a heart-to-heart.
Warnings: Probably angst.

Clu wasn't surprised to find Flynn here, really. Wanting a bit of peace and quiet after everything that had happened would be only natural, and this place was good for peace and quiet. A quiet corner of the park, out of the way enough that not many programs passed that way. There was no art here, but there was an energy fountain that trickled soothingly in the senter of the area and a few benches around the outter edge. Overall, the atmosphere was calming and restful; its shape and general layout reminded Clu of Lizor's courtyard as well, which didn't hurt matters either.

He'd first stopped by the observation tower, but when Flynn hadn't been there, he'd asked the programs on duty to help him locate him. True, he could have done it himself, but that way was faster and time was a factor, as he didn't want to hold up Ram's departure if he could help it. The search programs on duty had pointed Clu to this area of the park, and thus, is was after only a bit of looking around that he spotted his User.

"Greetings, Flynn," he said gently as he approached. He smiled a little sheepishly. "I don't mean to bother you, but... could I talk to you for a few microcycles? I was hoping I could get your assistance with something."

I watch the world die through crimson eyes

2011-12-13T09:28:18Z

WHO: Lizor, Clu 1 (tanks4thememory), Fire (firefixit) and later Aadi (isoartist)
WHERE: In a central city sector, probably within a few blocks of the EoL
WHAT and WHEN: Lizor comes back online after his experience with Abraxas in this encounter.
WARNINGS: Not that I can think of! I will change if necessary!

The journey back to consciousness when Lizor came back online was a slow one. Sluggish with pain that permeated his whole body - slowing his processes. He was laying on a hard surface, sprawled almost disjointed as if he was tossed aside like a broken doll. First meager attempts at moving failed, only resulting in more throbbing pain, eliciting a low moan from the program's throat. The small sound was breathy and soft - voice raw from his earlier screaming. All he could do then was lay there and draw air into his rattled systems...body shuddering a little which each quaking uneven wheeze.

His head felt as if it was going to split in two as if someone was jamming the business ends of shock staves into his eye sockets. Almost every bit of his face burning with searing tingling heat - radiating from his eyes, across his temples and bridge of his nose. Wherever the virus had direct contact with his skin. Even his hands burned, though not as horribly as his face. Not even slowly turning his head...pressing it to a cool surface of what must have been a wall or....something - didn't help. In fact, it caused more pain to spasm along his spine with the movement of his neck. The resultant jerk of his body did not help his head or anything else.

----

When Lizor next came back online, it was a little faster than last time - but the pain still throbbed. Attempting to crack open his burning stinging eyes next...he discovered to his utter groggy confusion that they were all ready cracked open. Where am I? Why is it so dark? Did I get thrown through a wall? The experience was extremely unsettling, for Lizor had never really been in true darkness before. Not like this. Even in his apartment with his lights dimmed or turned completely off - his circuitry generated light, reflecting off of things around him. Right now it was pitch black - and for the first time in his run time, Lizor couldn't see a thing. His circuits couldn't be out though - or he wouldn't be laying here....

Rolling onto his stomach...he reached out tentatively with his shaking stinging hands and tried to feel around - pausing every so often as some of the movements caused him to spasm in pain for a couple moments. As he did this, through the groggy haze of his own processes, memory files of recent events flitted through his data streams. Abraxas....the virus, had done this. Another spasm of pain broke that train of thought and the disc warrior uttered a strained grunt - falling against the wall at his side after he managed to curl his knees under him and press his head to the floor. Only after a long still silence when it was over, did he move again...fingers stretched out as he cautiously slid his palms along both wall and floor as he inched forward - crouched low on his knees. His matted hair dangled in his face - undoubtedly littered with the corrupted flecks of the remains of his helm - rendered inert now but no less messy.

The last he recalled, Abraxas had attacked him within a block of the End of Line Club. But now, Lizor had no idea of what direction that could be...or anything else for that matter. Did the virus manage to cause a city wide power outage? Or limited to this sector? That still didn't answer the mystery of why his circuitry wasn't showing any light.

The disc warrior spent the next several minutes trying to get his feet under him so that he could attempt to stand. It took a few tries and many stumbles and falls to manage it. At one point he took a break to curl up tightly on the floor, rocking in silent agony. Soon enough - he managed to get on his feet and was pressed against the wall almost doubled over, using it for support as he continued to inch forward carefully with hands outspread. By the time his hands found an edge to that wall, He was closer to standing fully - though had a visible hunch, his chin tucked downward with his face partially hidden by his thick hair. He was still in incredible pain, but his systems managed to adjust and help him cope somewhat with his typical high pain threshold so that he could take care of priorities. Like where was he? That puzzle, pain and the effort of moving took enough of his processing power that the program didn't even realize he was without his disc. He was not able to process very much at once due to being overwhelmed.

There! Movement! He felt it....there! Another. His radial scans were picking up other programs moving nearby. He must be reaching the end of...wherever he was. He had no idea for how long he had crawled out of that space - it felt like eternity. The warrior stood there against the wall, head tracking the movements as their energy signatures came and went. The movement started aggravating his stressed neck, so he stopped. He didn't recognize any pings - but he made himself press on and cautiously leave the security of the wall. Shuffling forward carefully, he was heading towards the nearest un-identified program when they nearly collided into him...or he struck them. In any case - it hurt. A lot.

"Watch it program!" Came the annoyed tone and a mild shove.

"Wait..wait..." Lizor mumbled, holding a hand out towards the movement. "End of Line...club. Where? Is it nearby? Can....can you point me in the right--"

"Corrupted! Get away from me!" The shove this time was harder, and Lizor - too weakened to retaliate, stumbled and flailed in a new direction. His moment of unbalance caused his foot to slip off of an edge he hadn't been aware of and the disc warrior fell hard onto his back and slid down what felt like a bunch of low steps down onto another level of pedestrian walkway....at least he hoped it was that - and not bandwidth traffic.

There wasn't as much program traffic down here - all the pings he was sensing was coming from where he had fallen from. Disoriented and wracked with pain, the disc warrior pressed his stinging palms to the ground and managed to roll onto his side and curl up in an attempt to recover enough so that he could attempt to stand again. Until then, he was content to allow consciousness to drift in and out as he hovered close to a light stand-by state, laying in complete darkness.

After all the days of despair

2011-12-11T20:49:16Z

Who: Anon and Yori.
What: Flying lessons and possible virus corruption mapping.
Where: In the sky over the Outlands.
When: After Rinzler's escape.
Warnings: Angst.

This was Anon's second time in a lightjet, and he was starting to feel more secure in the air. Jets were nothing like Recognizers; they were light, quick, responsive, and easier to recover if something went wrong. Also, they were single-program carriers, which meant no chance of glitches getting aboard.

Right now, though, that was beside the point. He could see Yori's jet matching his heading and velocity by his side, and he lifted an arm to wave to her. He needed to learn to fly, true, but he'd been surprised to find that he actually enjoyed the flying lessons.

What's the plan for this millicycle? he transmitted. With his disc hooked into the lightjet's systems, he didn't even need to input the text manually. If I remember correctly, you said you'd teach me how to do barrel rolls.

skies open up and the angel starts fallin'

2011-12-11T11:12:20Z

Who: Ram, Roy, Ram (appearing with mun permission), YOU~
What: THIS WAS A TRIUMPH.
Where: Tron City, near the Arcade (and/or other places).
When: several weeks, Grid-time, after the Labyrinth.
Warnings: none?

They landed in the Arcade.

Predictable, yeah. In fact, Lora had predicted it. The predictability was reassuring as the three travelers turned to scan the area around them, their tense looks dissolving into relieved grins as each confirmed that both of his companions had made the trip safely. Roy pulled up the desktop interface, two identically curious doppelgangers looking over his shoulders, and smiled as the readout came up.

"That's it," he murmured, reaching clap both his programs on their shoulders. "According to this, we should be back where we came from."

"We did it," grinned Ram. (Well, one of him.)

"Wicked,~" grinned the other. (They'd picked up some interesting language on the other side of the screen.)

Roy let out a snort of laughter. That led to more laughter, and backslaps, and hugs, perhaps a little tighter than they normally would have been. He and his programs had fought fire in the last few days and come out on top, and there was a possibility it wasn't over yet. Even if Lora had managed to put them back on the Grid where they'd come from, there was no telling what had happened there in the time they'd been gone.

A few moments later, the doors of the Grid's Arcade swung wide and the three strode out onto the Free Grid. First stop: a directory, to see where certain programs and Users could be located these days. Next stop: well, that would depend on the first.

Hey, Tron City.

Long time.~

[[Incredibly belated -- this was supposed to happen December 1, darnit! -- but Ram and Ram and Roy are now back on the Grid!~ Feel free to run into all or any of them as they spread out to hunt up the people they've been missing for all these days.~]]

Once a little sugar ant made up his mind to roam-

2011-12-08T05:02:14Z

Who: Tron, Ram, tentative open
What: Tron decides to try and map his neighborhood with his quasi-functional helmet. And gets a little lost.
Where: The neighborhood around his new residence.
When: Some time after he's settled in from the Sea.
Warnings: None.

The intention behind the trip had been easy enough. With sight of his helmet's sensors partially restored, he had figured the best thing to do now that he was settled in was to explore the area around his new apartment. Figure out the roads and buildings and blocks and get used to the way things had changed.

And for a time, it had worked easily enough. He'd felt confident in his mental mapping of the area. Things seemed relatively familiar. That was, until he'd tried to turn around and head back home and realized the static created by the still somewhat-damaged echolocative sensor was disrupting his vision enough that things weren't as clear as he'd thought they were.

He'd had to laugh it off, honestly. There might have been a touch of fear at first, but then he reminded himself that it wasn't as if he were completely without aid. Worst case scenario, he could ask for assistance activating one of the terminals. Come up with some excuse that his own security codes didn't fit those of this system. Then he could contact some of the people he knew were here and request their assistance in helping him find his way back home.

But first, he decided, he would try and find his way back on his own. No sense panicking and going for the last resort within the first five nanocycles. He could get by on his own.

Whether he told himself that because he honestly believed it, or felt that he had to <em>prove it</em> to himself was another question entirely.

And in my heart it shows

2011-12-07T23:16:01Z

Who: Krypton and whoever wants to find a brooding ISO.
What: Sitting by the shoreline, brooding over the virus in the Sea.
Where: By the shore of the Sea of Simulation.
When: After Rinzler's escape from Flynn's Labyrinth.
Warnings: None expected, will update if that changes.

Krypton felt the thrum of the wind through the wings on his lightjet, and turned just for the joy of acceleration pushing against him. His lightjet had been modified (like so much else) at the Bostrum Colony, and was no longer quite the classic shape. It matched him in color, of course, glowing the same bright green as his circuits. The wings, instead of being angular, had curved front and rear edges and swept back to sharper points than the usual ones. They were also angled further back, so that the wingtips were further behind him than they would have been otherwise.

The rear stabilizers had been reversed so that they pointed back instead of forward, a necessity given the modified wings. The stabilizers also had their front edges rounded off, flowing back instead of being at an angle. There was a slight trade-off in manoeuverability, but Krypton preferred the extra edge in speed.

He was looking forward to the promised race with Yori, but right now, all he wanted was to get from A to B. Banking into another turn, he smiled. Well. Maybe not quite all.

Before long, the edge of the Sea came into view. The dark ocean had been glittering on the horizon for a while, guiding the young program towards his destination. Krypton began losing altitude, skimming along the line where Outlands met beach as he slowed. Then, as the jet began threatening to touch down, Krypton hauled it up so that it was almost standing on its tail. Yanking the baton-halves out from their control positions, he used the last remnants of the rapidly-dissolving foot rests to backflip away and land neatly on the sand.

Grinning at the success of the trick, Krypton locked the now-intact baton to his thigh and turned to view the Sea. He'd come from here, not so long ago according to his memory.

According to the Grid's records, that had been over a thousand cycles ago.

Sitting down on a convenient small rock, Krypton pulled his knees up to his chin and wrapped his arms around his legs. He didn't take his eyes of the Sea for even a moment - though what he was looking for, even he couldn't say.

Leave no stone unturned, leave your fears behind...

2011-12-03T09:16:37Z

WHO: Lizor and you!
WHERE: Around the city. (I left it as open as I could to not limit characters by location that might want to tag :D)
WHEN: Current times! (after he parts ways with Lora in this post)
WHAT: Lizor has been wandering around the core sectors of the city after discovering viral traces at the End of Line club (resulting from this encounter). He hasn't been home since. Instead he had been stuck in hyper vigilant mode while at the same time feeling a bit restless, helpless and lonely.
WARNINGS: Not that I can see yet - will update if necessary.

EDIT: Just to keep the timing straight - the thread with Abraxas happens AFTER any threads that Li has with other programs that want to tag in!

Lizor jolted online - nearly hitting his head on the wall he had been leaning on. He blinked, disoriented until his processes caught up with what was going on. What was that? He tried to sift what his systems were defragging before he came to. It was hazy and hard to call up - but he recognized enough to know that it was when he was captured. He twitched, raising his arms to flex his hands and rub his wrists absently, as if he could still feel how tight the bindings were. One hand slid along his neck as if to soothe the skin from nearly being choked - and he wasn't even realizing he was doing it.

He swallowed hard, letting out a slightly shuddery sigh as he relaxed ever so slowly. Reminding himself that he wasn't a captive any more. That things were (hopefully) better now. Aadi was here - and they were together again. But...who was that? He couldn't call up more imagery to get more specifics - but he could have sworn that he hadn't been alone in that fragment. There was a woman there with dark hair and hard eyes. She was very close....too close - but she was not fighting. She was close enough to...was she in his lap?

Shaking his head - the warrior rubbed at his temples and ran fingers through his hair with anxious tugs, horribly confused and disoriented. He couldn't get any more information from what little he had seen.....and so he gave up trying for now, saving that particular data stream for later. It wasn't the first time he had come online suddenly from a disturbing flicker of data. Not long before this - he had woken up incredibly disturbed having remembered a moment during his captivity. He had been bound and spread eagled against the wall...there were others there. He recognised the setting as a possible interrogation, judging from ones he'd remembered - but what had caught his attention was the fact there was an armored guard standing infront of him with this expression of both hurt and hatred.

The program had his face.

Lizor had no idea what that had been - and it not only disturbed him, it frightened him too. What was that anomaly? He had no double...not to his knowledge. There certainly was none existing now. He had seen nothing in the records he's looked at so far. Was it a damaged memory? Not representative of reality and just something his processes filled in? He didn't know...but he was still upset about it.

Finally focusing on his surroundings, the warrior looked around - checking his radial scans. He was in a narrow space between two buildings where he had leaned against the wall and ended up going in unplanned stand-by. He hadn't been resting well lately, and these spells of spontaneous 'naps' were a result. He knew that he should probably go home and at least try and get proper rest - but he just couldn't bear the thought, especially with a viral threat. After spotting the viral traces at the End of Line, and sending a quick message to his companions - he had been out wandering ever since. He wasn't consciously trying to seek a confrontation with the Virus itself, but instead tried to seek out more signs of corruption - and track it's movements. Thankfully, any traces he'd found didn't appear to be near any areas where he knew other programs he was close to lived. Not yet anyway.

Lizor peeked outside of the alley, then exited and strode down the street at a brisk pace - trying to lessen his worry and unease. There was many aspects of the live connection that he and Aadi shared now that scared him as well as elated - but in this sense it was a relief that she'd be able to know where he was and his condition at all times. In case anything happened....

He mentally shook himself from that thought. He had received a couple of pings back after he sent his message out but since then - nothing. He couldn't help but be desparately worried and feeling helpless about it all. What could he possibly do? He had been able to assist a User woman a short while ago - but now he was alone, and back to square one - trying to figure out what he could possibly do to help with this mess. He hadn't heard anything from Clu about any more missions. Not even Anon, and he never got pings from Tron. It disheartened him.

The warrior continued to wander the various sectors around the city as he tracked the viral traces, making note of traces of corruption and how fresh they were - marking them on a map hex he had with him before moving on. Every so often he would check his personal messages at a comm terminal, with the small spark of hope that someone would reach out to him with anything. So far, nothing. All he could do was keep moving, face set in a tired scowl while marching at a brisk pace.

It was going to be a long cycle....

Be very, very quiet...

2011-11-30T04:48:52Z

Who: Clu 1 (guest-starring NPC Bit), Lizor, Anon, and Tron
What: Looking for the Rinzlers' weapons/explosives stockpiles.
Where: Outside the EoL --> One or more locations around Tron City
When: Backdated to a millicycle or two before Flynn's Labyrinth kicks off.
Warnings: Probably none specific, though will update if that changes.

With all three of his friends on board for his mission, and last bit of fact checking completed, the millicycle had finally arrived. Clu knew he should probably feel at least a little nervous; it was, after all, his first real mission in this System, and the first ever that he'd have to worry about someone besides himself and Bit.

But now that the moment had come, he couldn't feel anything but the combination of excitement and determination that he always felt before a mission. He pulled up in front of the ground-level entrance to the End of Line Club, sitting up from operating position on his lightcycle, but not bothering to dismount it. It was a fairly standard lightcycle, save for the fact that it was silver-gray rather than black, its color having also been altered, apprently, when he'd altered his baton's color to match the rest of his clothing. The cycle's circuits, of course, glowed the same shade of yellow as the rest of his circuits.

Now that they's stopped, Bit hovered up from its place between the handlebars to hover near Clu's shoulder. Clu, meanwhile, settled back on the cycle's seat and waited for his companions to arrive. He doubted he'd be waiting too long.

This isn't happening

2011-11-16T19:08:42Z

Who: A new Sam
Where: Outside the Arcade.
When: Right now
What: Sam gets rezzed into this version of the Grid.
Warnings: Will add if any arise

He hadn't meant to end up face down right outside the arcade. But that was where he was at the moment. Last thing he remembered was being inside the Arena, facing an opponent with good disc skills. He didn't even know what he name was. Then as he crouched into a defensive stance he felt a tugging feeling then everything went white and fazed out. Was he derezzed? That wasn't possible was it? He was a User.

Right now, he stood up and looked up at the "Flynn's" neon sign flashing above him. How had he been transported from the Arena to the arcade? Maybe there was a glitch in the system? He wasn't even sure but his arm hurt from where he had hit the floor. Sam sighed and looked around. Perhaps a familiar face or someone to talk to would help him with his disorientation. He also felt a bit dizzy and sick from being pulled from where he was.

When I consider how my light is spent

2011-11-14T08:30:54Z

Who: A New Tron
Where: Near the Sea of Simulation.
When: Now
What: Rerezzing on the shore, lost and more then a little panicked.
Warnings: Most likely G, though he's jumpy and may be prone to attack if he feels threatened.

When the tide finally brought him to the shores of the Sea, the first sensation he felt was a dawning sense of intense relief. He'd floated for countless millicycles, his helmet cracked and broken beyond use and leaving him effectively lost. At first, there had been intense panic, fear and dread that he would be lost to the Sea forever. But he had pushed it down, swallowing the terror and forcing it down deep even as he left himself to the mercy of the deep. He could not repair the imaging sensors himself. He had to simply wait for fate to make the next move.

He clutched at the sand under his fingers for what seemed an eternity, allowing himself to reconnect to the energies of the Grid, hoping to orient himself in one way or another once the sounds and sensations washed over him and gave him a better sense of where he had ended up. Instead, all he felt was the feel of the cold of the Sea as it lapped at his legs and the sound of the waves hissing around him. It did little to assuage the terror that threatened to grip him, that intense fear that he would be lost forever, and it swelled again, choking him and filling him with a raw emotion that was as strong as the day Clu had brought his rectified guards to the Arcade and staged his revolt.

But no. He was strong. He would simply...he...

He had to move. He did not expect any mercy or aid out here. There would be no one to help him, and he was unsure who he could trust. So he simply resigned himself to climbing to his feet, taking his first tentative steps away from the beach, and heading in what he felt was the best option for the location of TRON City.

They're Gonna Clean Up Your Looks...

2011-11-14T06:11:08Z

Who: Rinzler(here_catch) and Castor (meeeeee)
Where: The End of Line Club, after hours.
When: Shortly after Castor agrees to fix Rinzler's discs.
What: Rinzler's first check-in.
Warnings: Will add some if necessary.

The music in the End of Line is a droning, soothing bass, left to loop for Castor's ears and his ears alone. The club has long closed, and he sits in his lounge on the sofa, the stairs withdrawn and a small table in front of him. Like the stairs, it folds out and in on his command.

Atop the table lie two discs, and he fidgets with the hologram feed of information from one, rotating it slowly and committing the coding to memory. In his lap lies a small, transparent interface with glowing text and a kind of touch-keyboard on the bottom. He types into it one handedly while staring at the security program's code; the speed of his hand is precise, constant, robotic. The typing is almost a stream of consciousness: questions and theories on how he might go about arranging the damaged coding, his hand moving with an almost separate mentality from the rest of his body.

He glances down only once, briefly, and pulls up another facet of the security program's peripheral functions, muttering under his breath. He grins vaguely to himself before it fades into his concentration. It's been a long time since he worked towards a legitimate goal.

All this running around, well it's getting me down

2011-11-13T22:20:19Z

Who: Anon and Abraxas
Where: Somewhere on the outskirts of the city.
When: After Yori and Rinz's encounter with the virus, and after Dumont's warning.
What: Anon finds that the Portal has kindly rerezzed the virus that he spent most of his first life hunting.
Warnings: Violence.

Anon had been tracking the corrupted areas, going from the mostly-clean sections of the inner city to the deeper infection of the less populated areas. There had been a few infected programs, and Anon had dispatched them with only a few twinges of guilt. Derezzing was the only way that he could help them, and they certainly wouldn't hesitate to kill him if they could.

Slotting his disc back onto his dock, Anon prowled forward. This area of Tron City looked hideously familiar, and not in a good way. As he went, he kept one eye of the rooftops, turning as he went to get a full 360 view. He knew about Abraxas' penchant for high places.

when I rule the world

2011-11-13T20:58:18Z

Who: Seriously AU Clu
Where: Grid Arcade or nearby.
When: About now. Post-labyrinth, probably.
What: It's Clu! Only...how weird, he doesn't seem to want to kill anyone.
Warnings: Angst. Violence only if your characters attack; Clu doesn't want to fight with his good suit on.

The suit collar itched, and Clu tugged at it with a grimace. He could appreciate the fondness for tradition, but this was such an irrational one. If there weren't so many other things to focus on first and if he'd had to do this any more often, he'd have found some way to make formal dress more comfortable...

And then he blinked, constricting tie abruptly forgotten.

Where was the main entry terminal, and Security's checkpoints? Where were Tron and Jalen, who never failed to meet him, or the excited young Isos always crowding about the outbound links? Where was Flynn, who'd gone in just ahead of him? The re-digitization had gone without trouble, as far as he could tell, but where was his Grid?

He seemed instead to be in some kind of old and run-down system, from the ancient code structure and the lack of proper lighting...Clu turned. The nearest building had a sign overhead. Flynn's.

An unwilling smile crooked up one corner of Clu's mouth. As a prank, this was rather inconvenient but remarkably well done. Had they coded this entire system in the old style? Built just for his benefit, or was this a ploy toward that historical display Eckert kept hinting about?

It probably would be popular, but this wasn't a place in Clu's runtime that he wanted to revisit. Where in this replica was a comm terminal...ah. There.

"This is Grid Co-Admin Clu," he said briskly, hoping the main Security channel would get through to whoever was running this little theme park. "Very clever design, but this isn't exactly a warm greeting for the Earth-born tourists. And the place had better run faster than it looks," he added, with some irritation. "I promised Jalen this trip wouldn't take long. Please get me a link back to the Primary Grid at once."

Checking in

2011-11-11T21:05:53Z

Who: Lora and open
Where: Around the city?
When: Nowish/the lull after the storms... I mean, big plotty traumatic events for those who have them
What: Lora is in. Come bump into her.
Warnings: None for now.

By the time the meeting had been over and she and Alan had managed to make their way back to the Arcade, to their somewhat surprise Rinzler had broken out of Flynn's containment area - not without outside help - and so they had resumed their morning visits, returning into a routine they could all work around.

Today, she'd left Alan to catch up on some sleep, the Board had run very late the night before, but she'd left him a note where she was going. And she was back inside, walking through the City she was slowly getting to know.

the game is in your hands

2011-11-04T07:49:41Z

Who: Ram, Roy, YOU?
When: now
What: Plans, meetings, chance encounters... and farewells.
Warnings: none so far

Ram backed up his project status, changed his mind, rerouted it to a different directory, and backed it up again.

Preparation hadn't taken much attention, once the decision had been made. An away message for those who tried to ping him while he was gone. Notifications for Tron (all), Rinzler (many), Yori (both), Flynn and the other Users, Anon, Drive, Gem, Trill, Fire, Lizor and Aadi, Boomer and Kweri, and his other friends and neighbors, though he still intended to contact as many of them as he could and say goodbye in person. (Tron and Flynn knew already, of course; he'd gone to them first.) His stats work was safely in the hands of the team he'd been working with, well supported by backup in the form of rerezzes and duplicates; they could easily handle the work until he returned.

And that was it. All that was left was to export the contents of his flat to storage (that was funny, he hadn't thought he'd sent up the trampoline yet but it wasn't in its place) and then he'd be ready to head out.

Way, way out.

Nervous?

Yeah.

Excited?

Oh, yeah.

He took a deep breath, sent out the pings, felt an incredulous little smile sneak across his face, and wished the trampoline had still been there because he really needed to jump up and down on something right now and the couch just didn't have that lift.

_____

Elsewhere, a lance of light blazed through the sky, reflecting in refracting sparks from the textured platform where Roy stood watching as the Solar Sailer glided into its dock.

He'd done a lot of exploring since he'd arrived, meeting new people and helping out wherever he could. He'd almost gotten used to the perpetual darkened sky, the neon lines all over everything, the strange weight of the lightcycle baton in his pocket, the stranger tug of the disc port against his back. But he was still adjusting to the scale of the Grid, the way the buildings went up and up (and down and down and down) seemingly regardless of gravity, the giant flying things and the crazy, impossible loops of the lightcycle shortcuts.

He let his eyes roam, took it all in. He'd need every bit of knowledge he could get.

The line of light stretched into the distance, toward the floating ball of light that was so like and so unlike a miniature sun. He could hear his own heartbeat, pounding extra fast.

There'd be no backing out of this once they were in the real world. No way to return here, if they couldn't find Flynn or if Lora couldn't replicate whatever had happened with the laser. And he wanted to return. He wanted to keep in touch with his new friends here; he wanted to be able to tell Yori that in one universe, anyway, things had gone better.

They would. They had to.

At least Alan and Lora would probably believe him. Showing up on their doorstep with two identical clones of himself would be a pretty convincing argument.

(Hey, I'd like you guys to meet Ram. And also, Ram. Basically, we really need to talk.)

[Yes, Ram and Roy are on their way out -- but only for a while. I have NaNoWriMo going on, and have not been caught up with Ram's tags for a long time; accordingly, I'm hiatusing from making new posts until the beginning of December, though I will be tagging reeeeally sloooowly and filling the blanks between Roy's arrival and this. XD;;; Until that time, Roy and Ram will be off-Grid (BUT THEY'LL BE BACK, and feel free to pounce on them here before they leave -- this is the place for casual meetings or coming along on the Solar Sailer ride or anything fun like that), while Ko, Wulf, and Naught will be available as NPCs wherever they're needed.]]

friendships new and old

2011-10-29T17:27:29Z

Who: Yori, Radia, Trillian, others if you want!
When: After current plots (labyrinth, Abraxas, other-Yori) unless something has to be shuffled.
Where: Near Radia's home.
What: A social call.
Warnings: Other than inevitable angst, none expected. Will update if necessary.

Yori hated lightcycles, with their limited speed and their inability to take Outland travel and the city's crowded roads and the constant feeling that someone was any moment going to hit her or she was going to hit someone else--which was, perhaps, not entirely the fault of the lightcycles.

But she'd borrowed one, for this trip, among multiple other precautions that some programs might call unnecessary effort. Yori had drawn too much attention, the past few millicycles, and she wasn't going to risk drawing any of it toward the Iso sector where Aadi and Radia lived.

It was a long time since Yori had been the cheerful program so pleased to welcome the newborn Isos; her memory of first meeting the Radia she'd known was misty with time and sorrow. The memory of mourning Radia, by contrast, was sharp-edged and fragmentary. But maybe she still had a chance of recovering the long-lost friendship.

She didn't derez her helmet until she was well inside the building, walking toward Radia's door. Yori had no evidence either from observation or instinct that anyone had followed her at all, but that was no reason to be careless.

[ooc: Consider this semi-open. :) No antagonists here, please, I'm happy to set up a different thread for you guys if you want.]

lights will guide you home

2011-10-26T05:07:36Z

Who: Papri, and you!
When: Present time
Where: Outskirts of the city.
What: Someone comes back from...wherever it is programs go to when they haven't been active in a while.
Warnings: None yet!

"Ergh..."

She reboots in an unfamiliar place, limbs intact but missing a chunk of memory. The last thing she remembers is walking and--

--nothing. For a moment, she wonders if she's been derezzed again, but she looks good as new. Not a scratch on her anywhere, which is good, because she really doesn't want to stumble into the city missing important parts.

"H-Hello?" she calls out, staggering to her feet. "I-Is anyone there?"

She takes a deep breath and takes her first few steps since rebooting.

The past is so familiar

2011-10-25T22:29:58Z

Who: New Yori and whoever comes along
When: Now
Where: Just underneath/in the End of Line
What: Another Yori rezzes into the system . . . this time, one who didn't survive Clu's reign.
Warnings: None so far.

"Go on, hurry!" Yori urged as the last of the Resistance flowed out of the rear exit and into the underground tunnels. She could hear the Recognizer landing outside, the rumble of the engines unmistakable, and exchanged a look with her fellow rear-guard. He nodded, and Yori slammed the door shut. Failsafes erased the door, turning it into just another bit of the wall in which it had rested. Disc in hand, she turned to face the entrance.

A figure strode in, absolute in his confidence, circuit patterns as familiar to Yori as her own. Her processes skipped for a moment, horror washing over her before her resolve firmed. So it was Rinzler, not a Guard. Never mind. She could handle this. She had to handle this.

She flung her disc at the ceiling above Rinzler, freeing a large, dusty cloud of pixels that fell over him and caused a dense haze at the center of the room. "Go!" she hissed to the other rear-guard, and he wasted no time in scooting around the edge of the cloud. Yori was moving, too, but skidded to a stop as a figure stepped between her and the door. Twin discs were in his hands, lit orange and active. For a moment, Yori stared straight at where his eyes would have been.

And then Rinzler struck.

* * *

The ceiling was a long way off.

It took Yori a moment to realise that the ceiling was, in fact, the sky, and that she was nowhere near where she'd been. Turning her head, trembling with sudden exhaustion when she'd so recently been riding an emergency energy burst, she saw the familar shape of the End of Line up above her.

Staggering to her feet, Yori stumbled towards the elevator. If nothing else, perhaps she could get some answers from Castor. It was a risky strategy, yes, but not nearly as risky as being out on the street for Clu's guards to find.

[OOC: Tag in before she gets to the elevator, after she arrives at the top, be in the elevator when she gets there . . . it's all good!]