RAM // Tron

A Digital Frontier- Master Post

2011-04-25T08:03:27Z

This entry will be updated periodically whenever a new chapter is posted or the status of a chapter is changed. DF will also be going up on fanfiction.net relatively soon, and updates for that will also be logged here.

Summary
Post Legacy. A newly rebooted Ram must learn to adapt to a new system and care for a mentally and physically scarred Tron as ENCOM introduces the world to Kevin Flynn's Digital Frontier.

Chapter One
Journal Link: here
Journal Status: Completed, posted, and edited
FFN Link: here
FFN Status: Completed, posted, and edited

Chapter Two
Journal Link: here
Journal Status: Completed, posted, and edited
FFN Link: here
FFN Status: Completed, posted, and edited

Chapter Three
Journal Link: here
Journal Status: Completed, posted, and edited
FFN Link: here
FFN Status: Completed, posted, and edited

Chapter Four
Journal Link: here
Journal Status: completed and posted
FFN Link: here
FFN Status: completed and posted

Chapter Five
Journal Link: here
Journal Status: completed and posted
FFN Link: here
FFN Status: completed and posted

Chapter Six
Journal Link: here
Journal Status: completed and posted
FFN Link: here
FFN Status: completed and posted

Chapter Seven
Journal Link: N/A
Journal Status: currently being written
FFN Link: N/A
FFN Status: currently being written

A Digital Frontier- Chapter Three

2011-04-23T00:27:38Z

Status: Edited

Tron left soon after, much to Ram’s displeasure. As the monitor brushed past, Ram caught him by the elbow, fingers wrapping around his arm tightly.

“Tron,” he began, pleading in his eyes and voice. “Stay with me for a while.”

The security Program smiled tightly and gently unlatched himself from his friend. “I’ll be back, Ram,” he promised. He ruffled the little Program’s curls lightly and swept out the door, leaving Ram gazing dejectedly after him.

“Don’t expect too much too early,” Flynn said after a pause, watching the actuary from his doorway. “He’ll come around eventually, but it’s going to take some time.”

Guilt washed over Ram. “I listened in to your conversation,” he admitted sheepishly.

The User smiled sadly. “I know. I wanted you to. Tron would never willingly let you see how he’s coping right now, yet you needed to know. Ensuring that you overheard what he had to say seemed the best course of action.”

Ram sighed and hugged himself, nodding. Poor Tron. He wished he could help him properly, but without knowing the entire situation, it would be difficult to tell what he could or could not say. He knew more than he had previously, so he was slightly better off, but even so.

An idea slowly began to form and he turned back to the other.

“Flynn, is information in this system free? I mean, can everyone access it?” he asked.

Flynn considered. “Well, almost all of it is available to all Programs. There are some more specific coding details that can only be viewed with admin access as a safety protocol. Are you looking for something in particular?”

Yes. Ram bit down on his lip to keep himself quiet. “Nothing really specific. I just thought I might go check out an I/O tower and see for myself what’s happened,” he explained. “Even in the old system, they kept detailed records on everything that happened.”

The User nodded. “Of course. I was going to rewrite a Program or two, but if you like, I can take you to the closest tower.”

“No, that’s alright,” the actuary replied quickly. “I’d rather go alone, and I don’t want to get in the way of your work.”

“Suit yourself. Don’t get lost.”

Ram waved once before stepping outside. The barren, unfriendly terrain of the Outlands greeted him and he glanced over towards where he knew the city lay. He couldn't see it from here. A rack of batons propped up beside the door caught his eye and he reached out to take one. A little marking on the end indicated it was that of a lightcycle and he smiled to himself. That was something he knew well. Ram launched himself forward and pulled the baton apart, watching the ‘cycle rezz around him. It felt more comfortable on all sides than the previous design and the actuary was especially glad that he wasn’t hunched over uncomfortably in an area too small for even him.

The ‘cycle was one of a newer model that Flynn had been working on for some time, an all-terrain bike designed to function on and off the main Grid. It was faster than even the vintage that Clu had captured some cycles previously. It leapt forward, engine purring loudly as it spit out rocks from beneath the tires. Ram let out a shout of excitement, grinning as the wind whipped his curls every which way. There was something about riding a lightcycle that was so exhilarating, and the handling on this one was just beautiful. He sped happily across the rocky Outlands and glanced around, quickly spotting the closest I/O tower.

Even though the system was incredibly different from the one Ram had known, some things had to stay close to the same. The I/O tower was one of those things. Not necessarily that it looked the same, but that it was the same. All of Ram’s functions heightened around it and it sent out the same tingly, crawly feeling.

One lightcycle ride later, Ram found himself gawking up at the tower. As he tucked away his baton, he couldn’t help but wondering absently if his original User was aware that he’d been rebooted. He made a mental note to check if there were any messages left from him.

First things first, to see for himself what had happened in Flynn’s system since its inception. This was the easiest place for Programs to access information directly from the system. Ram approached one of the access panels glowing faintly on the walls and put his hand to it, closing his eyes and diving into the data stream.

At first, the sheer amount of information overwhelmed him and he faltered. Everything flickered oddly at the corners, and then, abruptly, he was fine. Ram relaxed and sifted through the data, easily finding the records of the system.

Apparently the system had been around since just after Ram’s deresolution. He skimmed through the origins of the system, rather pleased to find that Tron had always been an integral part of everything. There was also another there had had helped Flynn and Tron. Codified Likeness Utility, or Clu.

Things went wrong somehow. Clu was corrupted and went rogue. Threatened Flynn and supposedly killed Tron.

Ram shivered violently. So that’s where Tron had got his scar, from fighting for the Users.

Tron, repurposed by Clu into the Black Guard known as Rinzler. Rinzler, Clu’s right hand man, head of the Black Guards…ruthless killer. Slaughtered thousands in the Games, which were once again turned barbaric, and actively participated in the annihilation of the Programs known as ISOs. The genocide of a peaceful people, an extremely unique race that Flynn had been delighted with and Clu had felt threatened by.

Flynn forced into exile with the very last of the ISOs. Quorra. Rinzler searched for them on Clu’s orders but never managed to find or capture them. Assisted in the rectifying of millions of Programs, again on Clu’s orders. Captured the last ISO and brought her to Clu, knowing she faced a fate worse than death.

Yet Sam Flynn had saved her, saved them all. Oddly enough, his life had been spared upon initiation into the Grid during the Games by the same Rinzler.

Rinzler attacked and fired on Sam, Quorra, and Flynn. At the pivotal moment, however, he’d fought back. He turned on Clu. Flynn reintegrated the rogue Program and miraculously survived. Yet the Program he pulled out of the Sea of Simulation was no longer Rinzler, but Tron. He’d emerged horribly scarred, mentally and physically, unable to face what he’d done.

Ram staggered backwards, reeling with the overflow of information. This was what Tron hadn’t wanted him to know. He almost wished he hadn’t sought out the truth himself. It was agonizing to face.

Tron…Tron derezzing millions of innocents…He wouldn’t….

Ram’s breath came in fast and uneven as he trembled. His circuits sparked and flickered uncertainly. It was too much to take in. Too much too compute. His eyes fluttered back into his head and he shut down, collapsing onto the cold ground

Some immeasurable time later, Ram blinked awake, sitting up with a soft groan. An unfamiliar system monitor was kneeling beside him, but they were all unrecognizable with the black helmets that hid their faces from view. He instinctively scanned the Program’s chest, almost relieved to discover that it wasn’t Tron.

“Are you functional?” the monitor asked with a hint of concern.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Ram muttered, massaging his temples. In all honesty he felt awful, oddly weak and shaky. “I think I tried to upload too much information at once.”

“You are Ram?” the stranger guessed.

The actuary blinked and nodded. “Yeah,” he replied, a little confused.

“I am Anon. Flynn sent me after you.”

Oh. Ram nodded again and wondered how long he’d been shut down. Silently, Anon held out a hand for Ram and helped pull him upwards. The actuary gave the other a small smile of thanks.

Now that he thought about it, that had been rather odd. Ram had never been prone to fainting spells and he’d been designed to handle larger amounts of information. That shouldn’t’ve been enough to initiate a shut down. He must just be still adapting to being so newly rerezzed. That might have been too great a strain simply because he was so fresh in this system, not to mention the information had been so deeply personal. That had to be it. There was no other logical explanation.

As he stepped out of the tower, Ram had the oddest feeling that there was something else he had wanted to do here, but he couldn’t think of what it was.

**Scene Change**

Ram felt very strange after that, still unsteady and shivery. Anon, who he had learned had also been recently rerezzed, escorted him back to Flynn’s place before returning to duty with Tron. Ram gave him a small smile goodbye before retreating back inside to Flynn.

The User smiled brightly at the actuary as he entered, which was only just barely returned with a shadow of his usual energy. That was unusual. Immediately Flynn was concerned.

“Everything okay?” he asked, watching the other closely.

“I don’t know,” Ram replied honestly, slumping down into a nearby chair.

“Did something happen?”

The Program shrugged. “Just exploring the system,” he mumbled. “I think I’ll go power down for a while.”

Flynn sighed and nodded. Obviously he wasn’t getting anything out of Ram today. “Go ahead.”

Ram trudged off to the room that was temporarily his, feeling the worried eyes of the Creator on his neck all the way there.

**Scene Change**

Tron sighed to himself as he sped along on his lightcycle, hardly concentrating on where he was going. Ram’s expression when he’d walked away…Tron wished he could explain to him that he was just trying to protect him.

He knew that eventually he would have to tell Ram everything. Ram was not unintelligent and was one of the most stubborn Programs Tron had ever encountered. He would know something was wrong, if he didn’t know yet, and he wouldn’t stop until he knew exactly what was going on. Tron could only sidestep his questions and sympathetic faces for so long, and avoiding him completely was out of the question. That would only serve to hurt them both, not to mention it would upset Flynn.

He derezzed his ‘cycle and approached the silent squadron of monitors. Most of them, like Tron, had until very recently been Black Guards. And as difficult as it was for all of them to move past that, there was no denying that they functioned very well together.

Tron stopped, facing the line of Programs, and rested his hands on his hips.

“Report,” he ordered.

One of the monitors stepped forward. “Rumors of a virus have been confirmed.”

“User,” Tron swore under his breath, his scowl deepening. “Continue.”

The Program stepped back, only to have another monitor take his place. He was the only unhelmeted one of the lot, long black hair only partially hiding the thin scar that ran vertically from brow to chin. “It takes only a half millicycle before total infection is complete. The source is still undetermined. It appears to be originating from something considerably less conspicuous than the Abraxas virus and more like a corrupted data particle, though it is still powerful. Corrupted Programs are two point seven five times stronger after infection.”

Tron took it all in quietly, nodding. “Alright. Split into groups of two or three and take a Recognizer. Those should be able to locate infected Programs. Retrieve all corrupted Programs and take them back to containment centers one and two. Use more if necessary.”

He looked them over, assessing.

“Anon, you're with me. You have your orders. Commence.”

There was a moment of hesitation. Then the scarred Program spoke.

“Tron, wouldn't it be better to simply derezz them? Infected Programs are only destructive and very dangerous to the system. Containing them would only be a waste of space.”

A ghost of a smile crossed Tron's face. It was actually nice to hear some objection after being in the Black Guards for so long.

“We've derezzed too many Programs. These are good people who've been corrupted against their will,” he replied firmly. “Flynn may be able to help them, and we aren't using those facilities for anything at the moment. But I do appreciate you speaking up, Norton. We're stronger when we can talk these things out. Are there any more questions?”

No one spoke and the head of the monitors nodded in satisfaction. “Alright. Time is of the essence. Now get going.”

A Digital Frontier- Chapter Two

2011-04-20T06:32:45Z

Status: Edited

Just as the actuary's last thoughts the night previously had been of Tron, so were his first. The ground felt unusually comfortable and Ram wasn't quite ready to get up, just as always. Doubtless Tron was already up and running, and he'd know, just as he always did, the exact moment of Ram's return to consciousness. Must be some sort of security program thing, what with all their scanning processes and intimate knowledge of the system. Tron would be telling him to get up any nanocycle now, maybe teach him something new that would ultimately end up saving his existence at some point during the Games.

Any nanocycle now...Ram didn't bother opening his eyes just yet. Tron had been becoming more taciturn and withdrawn with every passing cycle, and this was one of their few moments where they could talk and enjoy each other's company before some of Sark's lackeys showed up and spoiled Tron's mood.

The security program never made his smaller friend wait this long without saying something. Ram's eyes opened, taking in the tidy white room blankly for a moment before it all came rushing back. He was at Flynn's place, rewritten to adapt to a completely new system. Ram sat up and yawned, stretching and taking in his own unfamiliar circuitry. He ruffled his own curls, which he was actually starting to like now that he was getting used to them.

He felt a thousand times better than he had the previous millicycle. He was obviously still adjusting to his new coding, but now he felt less like a stranger and more like himself. Ram slid out of bed, pleased to find that this legs were supporting him now that he was back at maximum power, and he carefully remade the wrinkled sheets. He looked around the room curiously, gazing around with interest. He approached the mirror, a little surprised at the reflection that met his gaze. He prodded his rather large nose and tried to calculate what color his eyes were. After a few moments, he grinned at himself and nodded, watching his brown curls flop around with a laugh that was almost a giggle. He liked that face in the mirror. It was definitely still Ram and he nodded approvingly once more. Yep. That would work.

He explored the room for a little longer before growing bored. He pushed the door open and stepped out into the main area of residence. Flynn was nowhere to be found, so Ram took it upon himself to discover a little more about his surroundings. The room intrigued him, filled with all sorts of things he could only assume were digitalized versions of common User items. Ram skipped over to a shelf full of odd rectangles that opened up to reveal sheaves of squiggly symbols. He recognized them as letters, but Ram had never learned how to read this odd language. The actuary had only needed to know how to read binary and other mathematical code. As those were the only languages he had used to communicate with his User, learning to read another had seemed excessive at the time of his initial programming. Now, however, he was reconsidering. Maybe Flynn could teach him to read these confusing squiggles.

He wandered over to the hearth and crouched down beside it, curiously examining the odd data cylinders from which a visible flow of energy and data particles emanated. Yet the oddest part was that it seemed to give off heat. Ram reached out hesitantly to touch it.

A moment later he yanked his hand back with a yelp. The circuitry in his fingertips had turned bright red and throbbed painfully.

“Owwww,” he complained, sucking his hurt fingers and blowing on them lightly.

“Everything okay, Ram?” Flynn stepped in from outside where he'd been meditating, a slight frown on his face. Upon seeing the little actuary crouched in front of the hearth and cradling his fingers, however, he had to fight back a smile.

“It hurt me!” Ram exclaimed, scandalized.

Flynn couldn't help but laugh at the outburst. “It's a fire, man. It gives off heat. It'll burn if you get too close.”

He crossed the distance between them and gently took Ram's wrist, examining his burnt fingers. Interesting. He'd never seen a Program burn before. The circuitry in Ram's fingers glowed scarlet and he did his best to help, sending some Grid energy into the actuary's burns to take the edge off the pain. After a moment the User released his hand and Ram looked at it. His fingertips were still cherry red but the pain had faded.

“Thanks,” he murmured, examining his hand. Flynn's User abilities unsettled him a bit. It would take a while to adjust to that. While he'd always believed in the Users and their godlike powers, it was still unnerving to see someone he had once known and trusted do things that really should not be possible. Ram was hardly unfaithful or disbelieving. It was just that this was Flynn doing all this.

The dull thumping of boots on tile announced a visitor and the two looked up expectantly, Ram still wiggling his red fingers.

Curious to see what Programs in the new system looked like exactly, Ram took in the sleek black suit first, admiring how the design clung to the wearer yet still managed to look stylish. Much more stylish than the ones from the old system, anyway. The visible circuitry was very limited on this Program, only a few white spots here and there. The main feature of the suit, however, was the symbol across the chest: three horizontal squares, with a square coming down vertically from the center square.

Tron.

Caught up in his current objective, Tron hardly gave the actuary a glance before focusing his attention on the User.

“Flynn, I ran into Sam on his way back to the Portal and he mentioned that you—“

Tron trailed off as his eyes went back to the smallish Program beside Flynn. Ram was gazing up steadily at him, lips trembling slightly as he took in the face of his old friend. It was almost exactly the way he remembered it, the strong, almost stern set of the jaw, the dark, intelligent eyes.

But the scar! Horrible lines of damaged coding that stretched from beneath his ear and ran diagonally down the side of his neck before disappearing into his suit. A confused mixture of horror, sympathy, and ardent affection flooded his eyes and made it impossible to speak or even breathe properly.

Tron stared in disbelief at the little actuary, unable to fully comprehend. His gaze flickered to Flynn, questioning. The User nodded, smiling gently. He clapped the two on the shoulders silently and retreated back to his room. He had a feeling he was getting in the way of a reunion that had been fourteen hundred cycles in the making.

Both Programs watched him go before turning back to each other. Ram reached out hesitantly, fingers brushing lightly over the exposed data. Tron winced slightly but made no move to stop him, still watching his oldest friend in awed shock.

Unable to take the suspense any longer, Ram stepped forward and embraced the other tightly. A tiny almost-sob slipped from his lips and he buried his head in Tron’s chest.

Tron blinked, but then the spell broke and his arms wrapped around to hold the smaller Program close. His head dipped down to rest lightly on Ram’s, nuzzling the soft brown curls affectionately. He let out a contented rumble, a soft ‘rrrr’ing sound akin to that of a cat’s purr. Ram giggled a little and snuggled closer. Tron was here now and nothing else mattered.

Tron’s chuckle echoed that of his friend’s. User, it felt so good to laugh again. He breathed in Ram’s temporary “new Program smell” and sighed, purring happily.

At length they broke apart, both grinning in that silly way that better befitted earlier cycles.

“Ram,” Tron said contentedly.

“Hey Tron,” the actuary replied easily, bursting into a happy giggle.

Then they were hugging again, each one laughing like he hadn’t in ages. They were reunited again, the dynamic duo, and there was no way they’d ever be separated again. This time, when they pulled apart, Tron kept a hand on Ram’s shoulder. Ram wound his arm around the other Program’s extended arm and grinned. After being apart for so long, it felt good to keep the contact again.

“You’re back,” Tron commented, making Ram giggle again.

“I guess there’s perks to being friends with a User,” he replied.

“That there is.” It was so much easier to be Tron around Ram. The majority of his warring coding had been modified and adjusted to as close to his original programming as Flynn could manage, but parts of Rinzler simply could not be removed. Clu’s alterations had been in place for too long.

“Tron? Are you okay?” Ram asked worriedly.

Tron blinked again, recollecting himself and nodding. “I was calculating what things will be like now that you’re returned.”

Ram nodded. What would things be like now? Different, obviously. Flynn had warned him Tron wouldn’t quite be himself, at least, not exactly like the Tron he remembered. Ram was already starting to see that.

“You’re sure you’re alright?” Ram asked again as the silence stretched on.

“Better now that you’re here,” Tron replied truthfully. “Things have…changed, Ram. I’ve changed.”

Ram sighed a little. “Flynn mentioned that you’d be different.”

A brief flash of panic and pain flickered through the security program’s eyes and Ram frantically wondered what he’d said wrong and if he could take it back.

“Exactly how much did Flynn tell you?” Tron asked, his grip on the actuary’s shoulder growing so tight it was almost painful, yet his voice stayed calm and carefully controlled.

Ram winced slightly. “N-not much. Just that you’d been through a lot.” Ram hated himself for it, but right now, he was almost scared of his friend. “T-Tron is everything okay?”

Perhaps Tron saw that look on his friend’s face, for he quickly let go of the other’s shoulder and forced a smile that the Ram didn’t believe for a nanocycle. “Fine. I’ve just got to talk to Flynn for a moment.”

He turned on his heel and stalked away, leaving Ram confused and a little hurt.

**Scene Change**

It was only natural that Ram should want to hear what Tron suddenly needed to say to the Creator, so when Tron disappeared into Flynn’s room, the actuary followed to listen at the door.

He hesitated a long moment before it. Honesty and loyalty were programmed into him and was a natural part of his original purposes of serving at an insurance company. This, though, this felt like a violation of trust.

Still. He had to know. Tron was different and he needed Ram’s help. Somehow, deep in his CPU, he knew this. His programming was the way it was so that he could best help people. And no one, no one, was more important to him than Tron.

Decision made, Ram leaned in against the door and pressed his ear to it.

**Scene Change**

“Flynn, how could you do this?” Tron fumed, glaring angrily at the User.

Flynn raised an eyebrow. “Tron. I brought him back for you. You need a friend who understands you. That will help you. You needed Ram.”

“This isn’t about me!” Tron shouted, pacing back and forth. “It’s about him! He might have understood me before, but not since he derezzed, and certainly not now. How can I even face him after what I’ve done? How can I tell him?”

Flynn tolerated the Program’s anger silently and without moving. “I know this is hard on you, but—“

“Hard on me, Flynn? On me? Have you thought about Ram at all? He looks up to me! He respects me! If I tell him, it’ll destroy him!”

The Creator sighed heavily. “Listen, man, I’m sorry you feel that way.” His voice grew firm. “But Ram’s stronger than he was before, and you aren’t going to be able to move past this without someone there for you all the time, someone who cares about you. I can’t do that because of the other duties I have to the Grid, but Ram can. It’s in his programming.”

“I can’t hurt him like this,” Tron murmured, sinking down to sit on the bed beside his old friend. He slumped forward, head in his hands. “What I’ve become…I can’t let him see that. Just the look on his face when he saw my scar…I don’t think I can do that to him.”

Flynn put a reassuring arm around the security program’s shoulders and squeezed lightly. “Don’t worry about it, man,” he said gently. “You’re Tron again. Not Rinzler. That’s your past, and I know how strong you are. You can do this. It won’t be easy, but you can do it. We both know Ram well enough to know that he’ll never give up on you.”

“But can he forgive me? I’ve…Flynn, I’ve…done horrible things. If I can’t even forgive myself, then how can I expect him to?”

**Scene Change**

Ram had listened enough. He pulled away from the door and sunk down into a sitting position, contemplating. What was it Tron had done that he thought Ram couldn’t forgive him for? Ram would always forgive him, didn’t he know that? Tron meant so much to him. As the Champion of the Game Grid, he’d protected his little friend and taught him everything he knew about combat. Granted, Ram wasn’t half as good as Tron was, but the things that he’d learned had kept him alive . He and Tron had nurtured their faith in the Users together, kept each other going when it seemed like the torment would never end. He trusted and admired him above all other Programs.

Tron knew all that. How could he not? So what was it that he’d done that he was so afraid of telling Ram?

A Digital Frontier- Chapter One

2011-04-18T21:35:20Z

Status: Edited

“Oh my User,” Ram groaned as he came to. Everything ached, his circuits sparking painfully here and there in the rebooting process. The little Program blinked, his blurry surroundings slowly solidifying into distinguishable shapes.

He realized with a jolt of panic that he had absolutely no idea where he was. The rocky terrain was completely unfamiliar. It didn't even look like the same system! He pushed himself to his feet, ignoring how his legs shook violently beneath him. He gave them an annoyed glance, irritated with his own functions. Yet instead he found himself gasping, his knees buckling with shock and bringing him back down to the ground hard.

Ram whimpered a little, forcing himself into a sitting position. He held his arms out in front of him, examining them with a mixture of fear and awe.

It looked as though he'd been completely rewritten. Instead of his usual grey with bright blue circuitry, his color scheme had changed to black with bluish-white circuitry. Even the criss-crossing patterns all over his body were different than he remembered.

Ram panicked, cradling his head in his hands. Yet even that felt wrong. Instead of the cool, hard surface of his helm, the actuary's fingers met thick, curly hair.

This wasn't happening. It couldn't be happening. It was impossible, wasn't it? The only thing that could have possibly rewritten him would have had to have been--

From the back of Ram's hard drive, a memory resurfaced. The light cycles destroyed...agony throbbing through all his circuits...Flynn carrying him...the Recognizer...Flynn had done something to it...because he was...he was...

Pain flashed through the Program's head and he winced, rubbing his temples.

“Flynn's a User,” he murmured aloud, trying to make sense of his confused memories.

“Very good Ram, you're remembering quickly,” came an approving voice from behind. Ram started in surprise and turned to face the voice, blinking rapidly. An old man sat cross-legged behind the Program, wearing a kind smile behind his gray-and-white speckled beard. He looked vaguely familiar and the actuary frowned, trying to recall.

“Take it easy, man,” the stranger chuckled good-naturedly. “Don't push yourself. Take it slow. It'll all come back eventually.”

Ram was far too stubborn for that. His frown deepened and he thought hard. The voice and vernacular triggered something in his memory but he couldn't quite connect the dots just yet.

“Seriously, Ram, I mean it,” the man said, now adopting a tone of anxiety. “You've got through some serious recoding. You're not looking too good, man.”

That phrase....he knew he'd heard it before. Ram peered at the familiar stranger once more, straining to look past the beard.

“Flynn!” he exclaimed suddenly, eyes widening.

A grin stole across the User's face. “Welcome back, Ram.”

The little Program laughed, beaming at his friend. “You rewrote me?”

Flynn nodded. “I got your coding from Roy and did the best I could. I did have to adjust your programming a bit to fit the system,” he explained. “You were a little outdated. No offense, man.”

Ram took it in, nodding slowly. He ran a hand through his curls, feeling the alien-ness of it. Judging by Flynn's appearance, Ram had been gone for a long time. His last few memories resurfaced again and he winced.

“I derezzed, huh?” he asked softly.

Flynn's grin disappeared and he nodded soberly. “Ages ago,” he replied in an equally soft voice.

Ram swallowed. “Uh, how long, exactly?”

The User did some quick math in his head. Ram had been gone for seven years before Flynn found himself trapped by his own creation. Then there was the conversion from years into cycles. “Fourteen hundred cycles,” he answered finally. “Roughly.”

“Oh User,” the actuary breathed softly. Fourteen hundred cycles...That was an incredibly long time. He could hardly calculate that. It was much longer than he'd even lived.

“A lot of things have changed, Ram,” Flynn said gently, reaching out to take the little Program by the shoulders. “But just remember that Tron and I will always be your friends. We've got a lot of influence in this system. If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask, okay?” He squeezed the other's shoulders and smiled kindly at him.

Ram was clearly having difficulty with this, but he smiled all the same, or at least attempted to. One part of what Flynn said greatly attracted his attention and he chose to address that.

“Can...can I see Tron?” he asked hesitantly.

Flynn smiled in understanding and nodded. Tron and Ram had been close when he'd fallen into the Games with them. No doubt Tron was as eager to see his old friend as Ram was. He stood and offered the actuary a hand up.

“You need some time to recharge and rest. I'll take you back to my place and maybe Tron will stop by, alright? I don't want to have you exerting yourself too much too early.”

Ram took the proffered hand, pulling himself up. He nodded and stood, his legs shaking slightly beneath him. The User caught him under the elbow, keeping a hand there as a support, should Ram's strength fail him again.

“This is a new system entirely?” Ram asked, looking around curiously as he stumbled along beside Flynn.

“Mostly,” came the reply. “After everything with the MCP, I figured I may as well rebuild the system to help it recover more quickly. So, I took some of the basic coding from the old system and created the Grid. A few of the more important Programs from the old system were adjusted to function in a more effective way so the whole thing could advance and work out properly.”

Ram blinked in some surprise. The User had obviously grown out of being the clumsy, hyperactive person he'd remembered. He was older, of course, and more mature, more serious. Less playful. Whether that was a good thing or a bad thing remained to be seen.

“If anyone had told me that you would go so far as to do that when I first met you...” he laughed.

Flynn grinned, a remnant of that attitude Ram knew reappearing. “I know.”

“You've changed a lot, Flynn,” the Program commented.

The User's smile faded slightly. “I suppose I have,” he replied more seriously. “We all have.”

**Scene Change**

By the time they made it to Flynn's main residence, someone was already waiting there. Two someones, actually, both curled comfortably against each other in one of the couches. A dark haired girl unfolded herself from the couch and stood, gently shrugging off the arm of the man beside her. Ram's attention was instantly drawn to the shimmering mark on a her arm. It was an unusual pattern, different from anything he'd ever seen before, and it pulsed with an odd bluish light. She caught his glance, her pale eyes focusing in on him and watching him curiously.

“Sam, Quorra.” Flynn smiled at the two, throwing an arm around Ram's shoulders and gently nudging him forward to approach the visitors. “Meet Ram. We were in the Games together back in the old system.”

The girl smiled suddenly, her face lighting up as she stepped forward and held out a hand to the newly rebooted Program. “I'm Quorra,” she said with a cooked grin. “I'm an ISO. Flynn took care of me for a thousand cycles.”

Ram grinned and took the proffered hand. Quorra's grip was firm and strong despite her small, slim fingers. It wasn't hard for him to recognize that look in her. He'd seen it plenty in the Games. This girl was all too familiar with combat, combat she'd been forced into. “Nice to meetcha,” Ram replied brightly.

“And you,” she replied, smiling. She shot her companion a Look and he got up from the couch with slight reluctance, offering Ram a sheepish grin.

“Sam Flynn,” he said by way of introduction. “User. Flynn's my dad.”

The actuary's grin widened. “A User! It's an honor.”

Sam shrugged and didn't reply, sharing a quick smile with Quorra. Flynn clapped Ram on the shoulder and released him, giving him a little push towards the seat that Sam and Quorra had just vacated. “Sit down and make yourself at home, Ram. I have a feeling these two came here for a reason.”

The younger Flynn nodded and launched into it right away. “ENCOM wants you at the gala. The Board Chairman,” he smirked, “thought it would be a good idea. No one knows you're alive yet, and he figured that stocks would go way up when you make your appearance.”

Flynn smiled wryly. “Oh, Alan thinks that, does he? Have you introduced Quorra to the public yet?”

The ISO shifted uncomfortably. “I'm no good with crowds just yet,” she admitted. “I spent too much of my time avoiding them. And honestly people don't have any reason to believe I am what I say I am.” She hesitated for a moment. “But if you introduce me, not at the gala, but later, then maybe it would work better.”

“Sounding like a User already, Q,” Flynn commented approvingly. Quorra beamed. “Well, I don't know,” he continued thoughtfully. “Those are great ideas, but give your old man a little time to think about it, alright?”

Sam grinned. “About that...Alan's already promised the board something amazing this year. He's been telling them that this gala will bring the spirit of Kevin Flynn back into ENCOM beyond anything we've seen since the eighties.”

“It's your company, Flynn,” Quorra tacked on helpfully. “We need your help.”

The older man chuckled, smiling fondly at the couple before him. “Your company now, kiddo,” he told Sam. “But since you two are so insistent...I suppose I'll make a cameo at the gala.”

“Great,” replied Sam, clearly pleased. “Thanks Dad.”

“Sure. Now why don't you two run back home and let Alan know I'll be around?”

The ISO hesitated. “There was something I've been wanting to ask you,” she began, looking up at her mentor from beneath dark lashes.

“What's up, Q?”

“Sam said he'd buy me a motorcycle if you said that it was okay,” she said in a rush. “I know, here I can drive or fly just about whatever I want, but not out there. Sam has his Ducati and I just thought I could use one of my own or when I'm not with him, and you know how good I am when it comes to vehicles of any sort--”

“Hey, slow down, man!” Flynn interrupted, laughing. “That's fine by me, just be careful.”

Quorra clapped her hands together excitedly and hugged her mentor tightly. “Thank you Flynn!”

Sam rolled his eyes at her slightly exaggerated response and tucked her under his arm after she released his father.

“Alright, we'll get out of your hair now,” Sam said loudly. “Alan wants all of us at his place for dinner some time, if you feel like dropping by.”

“I'll keep that in mind,” Flynn agreed. “I've got a few more Programs to rewrite and get them settled before I can. I was thinking once I get enough Security Programs running that I'd take Tron out with me.”

The ISO raised a dubious eyebrow. “You think he's ready for that? After everything that's happened?”

“Well, having Ram around ought to help him. Those two were tight, man. They fought together in the Games ages before I showed up.” They all glanced over at the little actuary, who'd clearly dozed off, his head slumped onto his chest. Flynn smiled slightly. “Okay, you two, watch out for each other. I've got this guy I need to take care of.”

“See you around, Dad.”

“Bye, Flynn.” Quorra stretched up on her toes to kiss him lightly on the cheek and he chuckled, ruffling her short hair. She smiled brightly at him and turned to leave, threading her fingers through Sam's and waving with her free hand. Flynn turned back to face his new ward.

“Never have kids,” he told the sleeping Program with a small smile. “They figure out exactly how to get to you.”

He sat down beside Ram and put a hand on his cheek. The actuary stirred, stifling a yawn as he blinked sleepily at the User.

“Ooops, sorry Flynn,” he apologized, stretching a bit. “I only meant to close my eyes and I guess I just powered down by accident.”

“Don't apologize, man. You need your rest. I just thought you'd be more comfortable on the bed.”

“Bed?” Ram lit up visibly. He hadn't seen a bed since before his time in the Games. For over 200 millicycles he'd had to make do with sleeping on the ground, which usually left him achy and sore when he rebooted.

Flynn chuckled at his old friend's reaction. “There's two extra rooms. You can user one for as long as you like until you're ready to find your own place.”

“Thank you!” the Program exclaimed sincerely, more than a little excited about the thought of a bed.

“Come on.” The User smiled kindly and took Ram's forearm to pull him up. The smaller of the two teetered a bit before finding his feet and grinned sheepishly. He really needed to recharge.

Flynn made sure to keep a supporting arm around Ram's shoulders as he guided him gently into the room that had once been Quorra's. It was clean and tidy, the main feature being the medium sized bed against the wall and the small lamp beside it. Directly across from the bed was the long rectangular window that looked out on the small area that served as a backyard, the pool of shimmering energy casting a frail shaky glow on the window. Beside that was the oval shaped mirror and pure white dresser.

All Ram really noticed was the neatly made bed, so warm and inviting. He collapsed into it with a happy little sigh, curling up on it and promptly shutting down. The last coherent thoughts running through his CPU were of Tron.

Never Gonna Give You Up

2011-04-16T01:26:55Z

Prefaced by this and this

Continued over here

Characters in this log: Zuse (creepyguitar) and Ram (religiousnut).

Zuse had gotten very good over his many cycles at recognizing a Program in need. While most of them had different ways of dealing with it, there were really only several ways a Program would react, and to the practiced eye, it was easy to spot.

He had no trouble at all identifying this one. He fell into that category of Programs that were just obvious. That shy, hesitant demeanor, like he'd rather be anywhere than here, gave him the look of one that had lost a great deal in a short time.

Too many Programs were coming to him looking like that nowadays. Zuse was no miracle worker. He was far from it. He was simply very well informed.

Sliding easily into his guise of Castor, the End of Line host assumed his position behind the bar and smiled brightly at the lost Program.

Ram glanced around the lighted club nervously. He could hardly believe he was doing this. Crowds tended to make him shy and uncomfortable, but there were more important things to worry about aside from focusing on his own anxiety. It was his job as a friend and simply as Program that cared to do this for Tron. He just had to remember that getting Tron back was what was important right now. Ram took in a deep breath, his eyes eventually coming to rest on the bartender. He seemed friendly enough, and Quorra had told him that this was the best place to go for help. With a little more confidence, he approached the bar.

The poor Program didn't belong here at all, Castor thought with some amusement. With a smile that didn't quite meet his pale eyes, he greeted the newcomer.

“Welcome, welcome! How can I serve you?” he exclaimed warmly.

Ram returned the smile hesitantly. “Uh, actually, I'm looking for someone.” He faltered for a moment before continuing. “I was told that I could find Zuse here.”

“Mmm, yes, most cycles you can,” came the ambiguous reply. The barkeep smiled wryly. “I'm afraid no one can see Zuse without going through me first. You understand, of cousre, that he is an incredibly busy Program. In rather high demand as of late.”

The Actuarial Program nodded slowly, biting his lip. “What do I need to do?” he asked resignedly. He was willing to sacrifice just about anything to get the help that Tron so desperately needed.

Castor beamed. “Ah, humility. What a rare character flaw. Care to identify yourself?”

“Ram,” the other replied with a bite of impatience. “Actuarial Program.”

“Really? How fascinating! Your kind are so uncommon these days. I'm Castor, at your service. Your host,” he made a sweeping, flamboyant bow before stepping out from behind the bar and clasping both hands around a decorative cane. “Why don't you come with me and I'll see what I can do for you?”

Without waiting for a reply, he strode off carelessly through the club. Programs parted to allow him to pass and he smiled brightly in thanks. He seemed to know everyone there individually, calling them all by name and chatting briefly with a few of them here and there.

Castor caught one particularly attractive Program under the elbow and beamed at her. “Ah, Gem, darling, do keep an eye on things for me, won't you? I have some business to attend to.”

Gem nodded and smiled coyly at him from under her thick lashes. “Of course,” she purred, a robot-like undertone to her voice. She eyed Ram with interest, running her hands down her slim and curvy frame. If he could have blushed, he would have, instead giving her a small embarrassed smile.

A flight of illuminated stairs descended from the roof and Ram blinked, watching with some fascination. Even before the MCP trapped him in the Games, he'd stayed away from the city and large numbers of other Programs. He'd been a little more sheltered, which was why he'd stayed so innocent for so long. Not to mention the Grid had been an entirely different place when he'd known it. It had been much smaller then, and Programs had been kinder, for the most part.

Ram was interrupted from his thoughts by the tapping of Castor's cane on the stairs and he followed quickly. It seemed he was all sorts of awkward this microcycle.

“This is my personal lounge,” Castor explained, twirling his cane absently. He was very interested to hear what Ram requested. Clearly he must want it badly if he had brought himself to a place that he was noticeably unfamiliar with. “It's where I have my more private conferences with individual Programs.”

At a gesture from Castor's cane, Ram sat down on the cushy couch and looked around, taking in the tasteful surroundings with wide eyes. “It's very nice,” he murmured, struck by the richness of it all.

“Yes it is, isn't it? I pride myself on my designing,” Castor replied loftily. “And my drinks,” he added as an afterthought, already mixing up two of them.

Ram was starting to get rather frustrated. “Can you help me or not? This is really kinda important and I need to speak to Zuse.”

The barkeep chuckled good-naturedly. “All good things come to those who wait,” he said in a sing-song voice. He offered the Actuary a drink before sitting down across from him with his own. “Now, what can I do for you?” He crossed one leg over the other and smirked in a self-satisfied way, waiting.

Ram was confused at first. Castor knew exactly what Ram had been asking for. He'd repeated it several times now. He opened his mouth to tell him so, and how he had half a mind to just leave and look somewhere else for help. The words were almost out when it hit him and he blinked.

“You're Zuse?” he asked in some surprise.

This was Zuse's favorite part, watching their faces when they figured it out. He grinned and raised his glass. This mask of Castor really did wonders for his ego.

“The one and only,” came the smug reply. “I had to reinvent myself after the Purge, for the mutual benefit of everyone. I'm sure you understand.”

Ram's nod was rather hesitant. Was this really the wise and clever Zuse Quorra had told him to look for? He just seemed incredibly spoiled and narcissistic. Ram had his doubts of how much help he could gain from this eccentric Program.

“Guess so,” he replied with a shrug. There was another moment's pause before he launched into his reason for coming. “I need help. For my friend, I mean. He needs help.”

“How noble of you,” Zuse commented dryly. “Do continue.”

Zuse's dryness was only serving to discourage the Actuary further. He took a sip of his drink and felt the energy course through his circuits. A faint smile crossed his lips as the sensation took him back momentarily to a happier time. The recollection of being with his best friends encouraged him to continue. He had to do this, no matter how foolish or painful it seemed. He had to do something, and this was his best shot.

“He's been repurposed,” Ram stared to explain, his voice stronger than before, though the words caused him pain. “It's been really hard on him, to say the least. Is there anything I can do to help him?”

“Ooooooh! I knew this was going to be something exciting!” the other Program gushed enthusiastically. “I could practically taste it! Mmmm, yes, this is just the sort of challenge I've been needing!”

Zuse continued on in this vein or some time. Ram let him go for a few nanocycles until his impatience started to bubble up again. Tron didn't have the time for these insignificant delays and Ram was itching to get his best friend back as quickly as possible.

“Can you help or not?!” he interrupted loudly, cutting off the exciteable Program.

Zuse blinked, temporarily taken aback. No one had ever yelled at him like that. Well, maybe Quorra had, but that was cycles and cycles ago and she'd been playful about it. He recovered quickly, his smile reappearing.

“Oh, certainly,” he replied smoothly, spinning the little decorative umbrella in his drink. “But not right away. I can sort through the system's files and attempt to dig something up for you, but as I am unfamilliar with the subject, I can't guarantee that there even is something in Flynn's files that will help.”

Ram made a soft despairing sound and choked down half of his drink moodily.

“Oh, don't you fret,” Zuse chuckled. “Doubtless I can do something. I am rather clever, after all.”

“You think you can come up with a solution on your own?” Ram asked doubtfully. Was Zuse actually suggesting he knew more than the Users, because that's what it sounded like to him.

The barkeep stood, easily putting away his drink in one dainty swig and setting the glass down on the counter. He smirked, positively oozing with confidence.

“Creativity is in my programming,” he assured Ram. “Come back in a cycle or two. I'll be sure to have some ideas for your friend.”

The Actuarial Program stood as well, the beginnings of hope curving his lips upwards. His conference with Zuse was obviously over and the horrible desperation that had been suffocating him since learning the full extent of Tron's condition had lessened somewhat.

“Thank you,” he said sincerely.

“Of course,” Zuse replied, draping an arm loosely around the other Program's shoulders and guiding him out of the lounge. He stopped suddenly and glanced sideways at Ram. “Oh, and I shall most likely need to know...What exactly has your friend's programming changed into?”

Ram's smile faded. “He's a Black Guard now,” he murmured softly.

“Oooh, bad luck!” commented Zuse brightly.

They stepped back out into the main area of the club, the noise almost deafening after the silence of Zuse's private lounge.

“Until next time,” the barkeep said loudly, releasing him. Without waiting for an answer, he strode off into the mass of Programs and melted from view, leaving a considerably more cheerful Ram alone. He couldn't wait to tell Tron the good news.

rinzler/ram bromance

2011-04-13T08:43:37Z

This is the saddest, most heartbreaking thread in the world. :CCCCCC