Neon Jungle

[voiceless_anon]

Who: Anon, OPEN
When: Now.
Where: Somewhere near the Arena.
What: Anon is newly (re)rezzed and very confused, and is looking for somebody who'll explain what's going on.
Warnings: Probably none.

Comments

[benignspybot]

He had to stop running into security programs like this.

But the look on the program's--well, not face per se--visor and more importantly his body language, clearly indicated he was either lost or looking for something, or technically both if it was the former, and he had stopped to consider for a nano when he found that the crowd wasn't too keen on letting him stay in one spot. So soon enough, distracted by a single call that caught his attention despite definitely not being for him, he found himself bumping into the security program while he wasn't looking.

He looked up and grinned sheepishly. "Oh, hey. Sorry about that," he apologized quickly. Again, he paused to consider and despite his priority to stay away from system security he couldn't help but be overridden by his constant nature to simply help someone in need. He flashed the other a friendly smile. "Couldn't help but notice you appear a little lost. Looking for something in particular, friend?"

[voiceless_anon]

The face was unfamiliar, but the voice was kind. Anon nodded in as friendly a manner as he could manage when the other program apologized for bumping into him, and relaxed at the smile.

"Looking for something in particular, friend?"

Anon spread his arms wide and shrugged, looking around before he looked back at the other program. The gesture meant quite a few things - I don't know, who are you, I don't know if any of my friends are still alive - but What's going on? was at the top of the list.

[OOC: Sorry, I keep forgetting to close my italics tags.]

[benignspybot]

Ram frowned at the simple gesture but it was a thoughtful look with his brows furrowed and teeth chewing on the inside of his lip. "You can't talk?" he asked softly, barely audible over the crowd but that was the idea. He didn't figure anyone else needed to know

[voiceless_anon]

Anon shook his head when Ram asked him whether he could talk. Until now, it hadn't actually occurred to him to wonder why he couldn't. It hadn't mattered earlier. There had been commands, and executing those commands, and that was all.

Anon listened eagerly as Ram explained what had happened. He couldn't reference the meaning of most of it, but he stored the explanation anyway. It was good of Ram to take the time to talk to him.

Though Ram couldn't see it, Anon smiled behind his visor at Ram's last question. That, at least, was easy. He pointed straight down, the gesture decisive. He'd been made for the Grid - had never known another system.

Point made, he opened his hand towards Ram. What about you? Where are you from?

[quorrious]

Quorra had taken to lurking around the arena much the same as she had back before things had taken a turn for the worse and the coup had happened. Granted, most of the time she still watched from a perch somewhere well away from the crowds, they were something she was still struggling to get used to again.

As such it was easy to spot the one still spot in the flow of traffic, she blinked, then again, trying to make sure that she wasn't seeing things. Yori had told her that programs sometimes arrived from elsewhere, even after having been derezzed, and her meeting with Flynn out in the outlands was proof of that.

She beamed, swinging herself down easily from the walkway above, landing lightly, taking a moment to regain her bearings before unfolding and making her way towards the system monitor.

[voiceless_anon]

Anon scanned the crowd again, and froze at the sight of a small, dark-haired program making her way towards him. No, not a program. An ISO.

Squeezing nimbly between the moving programs, Anon headed unerringly in Quorra's direction. He hadn't dared hope that Quorra had survived, but there she was, looking whole and error-free. Warmth rose in his chest, a sensation that he tentatively classified as happiness.

It wasn't long before they were face to face, Anon waiting for Quorra to speak.

[quorrious]

She moved forward easily to meet him, grinning broadly, glad to see a familiar face, or, rather, a familiar helmet, but it was the same thing in this case. She caught his upper arms, giving a gentle squeeze. The ISOs had always communicated a lot through touch, and Quorra was no different, especially now that she no longer had reason to be, "Greetings, program." And then, her tone amused, "Long time."

[voiceless_anon]

Anon nodded at Quorra's greeting, mirroring her arm-grab and carefully exerting the same amount of pressure that she had used on him. He was smiling beneath the helmet, relief and joy mixing together until he couldn't tell one from the other.

Long time? He cocked his head on one side, silently asking her how long it had been. From his perspective, it had been a matter of millicycles, but he was steadily growing more certain that it had been considerably longer.

[yorisearching]

The thought of watching the Games themselves still brought a crushing pressure in Yori's code, but from time to time she went near enough to watch the crowds pass. Joy in their faces does something to drive away the pain, and the clusters of excited programs around those hoping to compete. No fear in their posture, no cages, no executions. They trust Tron's word enough to come back in droves, and Yori was grateful for that

[voiceless_anon]

Anon looked around as somebody called his name, his gaze landing on a pretty blonde program who was looking straight at him. Try as he might, he couldn't find her in his memory banks.

He shook his head when the program introduced herself. Yori. Search string not found. Still, Yori seemed friendly, and she at least knew of him. He tilted his head slightly in curiousty, and waved a hand at the Grid in general. What happened here? The popularity of games that he knew to be lethal worried him, knowing only too well what happened to losing programs.

[yorisearching]

For Anon to be completely voiceless argued that he was still very young, and Yori winced internally at the probable fate of a System Monitor in the earliest millicycles of Clu's takeover. "I helped Flynn debug your code before you were ever compiled," she explained, with a wry smile, remembering how full of hope she'd been at the time. "It's good to meet you, after all these cycles."

His puzzled gesture was pretty standard for newly arriving programs, whether the question was voiced or not. "Clu's out of power, finally," Yori assured him first. "Tron is in charge of system security and the Arena now."

[voiceless_anon]

Anon relaxed at the assurance that Clu was gone, and perked up at the knowledge that Tron was running the Games. Rinzler had told him that his mentor was still alive, but it was useful to have indepedent confirmation.

Yori had checked his code, pre-compilation? Anon ducked his head, the closest he could come to blushing. It was a little odd to know that it wasn't just Flynn who'd had a hand in creating him, but it felt . . . nice.

[survivethesiren]

Gem knew who he was. Zuse had mentioned him once, and she had seen him going after Gideon during one of the Games. But calling out his name would no doubt startle him, and she honestly could not say if he was friend or foe.

He had disappeared after the purge, and Gem had heard nothing since then.

So the Siren slipped her way through the crowd to come along side him, speaking quietly.

"You look lost, Program."

[voiceless_anon]

Anon sensed the approach of the program, and looked down and around at her. He nodded. Yes, I'm lost.

Having bypassed the Armory in his one visit to the Game Grid, Anon had never met any of the Sirens. He'd never had the chance to learn about them in his short life, and had no idea who they were or what they did. All that Anon saw beside him was a program in white, a color he'd only seen during that one visit to Zuse's club.

Not being able to introduce himself was getting annoying. Maybe he should get his armor edited so that his name was emblazoned on his helmet - although how he was going to find a program capable of doing that, he didn't know.

[survivethesiren]

Gem had always been a watcher. The one who gathered information for Zuse. It had been important to know who he was at the time, and she had a feeling that it migt be, in the future.

"Anon, correct?" Gem gave him a flicker of a smile, continuing to walk as they moved into the Arena. He could not speak, of course, but Gem knew that Programs spoke with their bodies sometimes moreso than their words. She simply would have to do her best to read his actions and reactions.

"I am Gem."

[voiceless_anon]

Anon was slightly startled that the white-clad program knew his name, but nodded anyway. Curious, he walked with Gem into the Arena and looked around. He'd never been in this area before - his previous access had been via the back door.

Anon was so fascinated that he almost missed Gem's soft self-introduction, but he caught it at the last nanocycle, replayed it in his head and nodded again. This one was slower and smoother than the last, almost a bow that involved nothing but his head and neck.

He studied Gem, head on one side. She matched him in height, which was a surprise. She was probably also tougher than her fragile build suggested.

Looking ahead, he realized that while he'd been automatically tracking their route, he had no idea where they were going. He looked back at Gem and tipped his head on one side in enquiry, waving a hand in the direction they were taking.

Hey! Listen!

[weeittybittybit]

Hey! I'll talk to you! But you'll have to do most of the work.

A Bit and a program that can't talk? Challenge accepted!

[voiceless_anon]

Anon looked up at the flash of bluish-white as it darted past. A NAVI bit! Or - was it? It seemed slightly different from the ones he'd worked with before, but it was unmistakably a bit.

Anon nodded to himself. NAVI bits took you to places, so he should follow it. He ran towards the bit, waiting for it to move and show him the way to wherever it wanted him to go.

Can't talk or WON'T talk? Because Bit understands you've been missing good company.

[weeittybittybit]

No! This bit is bringing it back old school!

The bit stopped. Was it being followed? Looks like it!
Well hello sailor, what's a program like you doing in a place like this?

Bit floated on up to Anon's helmet. Ooh! A reflection!

It spun, admiring itself.

Physically CAN'T talk! Flynn forgot to give him a voice.

[voiceless_anon]

Anon stopped, puzzled, as the bit floated towards him. Either he was already in the right place, or his second guess had been correct and this wasn't a NAVI bit.

He smiled as the bit spun in place, and would have laughed if he could. Not sure how to interact with it, Anon reached out tentatively to touch it.