Do you wanna play~?

[stillpurring]

Who: Rinz and you
What: He's regressing slightly back into Rinzler and getting violent. Come spar with him? Hugs might be acceptable too, but expect some yelling first.
Where: some..place...where people fight and train?
When: now?
Warnings: some violence, plenty of angst

Comments

Fun times :D

[the_gamesmaster]

Flynn didn't expect to find Rinzler at the arena when he got there. He was looking for either Ram or Tron, but neither were there. It was him. He swallowed and kept his distance as he approached Rinzler carefully. He'd known to be cautious as the enforcer could become a live wire at any moment. Was this Tron or Rinzler? Flynn couldn't tell if he were more towards Clu's lackey or the Grid protector. He edged closer.

'Greetings, program. What brings you here?,' he wondered if the program was in need of training. Maybe that's why he came here?

oh indeed

[stillpurring]

Eyes partially concealed by long dark hair snapped over to rest on Flynn, brimming with anger and fear and sheer bottomless emotion. No, he wasn't Rinzler, but he wasn't Tron either. The long jagged scar down his cheek indicated he was somewhere in the middle instead.

"Get. Away," he ordered, a dangerous gleam in his eyes and voice. "Leave!"

It was a horrible contradiction. Half of him just wanted to slaughter the User where he stood, and the other half wanted to hug him.

Re: He wants to hug him badly but....Rinzy is angry. Stalemate I think.

[the_gamesmaster]

Flynn understood Rinzler's anger. The poor guy was conflicted. It was like Jeckyll and Hyde. The good man existed inside the bad. He held his hands up in surrender.

'It's ok, man. I don't want to hurt you. I just want to see if you're alright. We're friends, remember? You're Tron and I'm Flynn. Warriors of the system, remember?,' he still held his hands up. Please, remember. He had to, right? What if he did remember but couldn't do anything against the corruption Clu had programmed him with? It was a sad predicament.

good luck with that TT_TT

[stillpurring]

"I am not Trrrron!" His voice crackled slightly, with static or emotion it was hard to tell. He'd been glitching worse and worse as his moods had gotten more violent.

"Perrrhaps you don't want to hurrrt me. But I want to hurrrt you. Go. NOW."

[yorisearching]

Word of a known Rinzler behaving with unusual aggression was possibly more worrying than all the unknowns now troubling the Grid. Yori followed reports to an old and half-derezzed disk training ground, less formal than the Arena and not presently in common use.

"Rinz?" She picked her way over the remains of a wall, toward the sharp buzz and hiss of an active weapon's bounce.

She hadn't had time to speak to the former kitten since...well, since he'd been a kitten. But one of the few truly bright points of her absence had been edging an extremely confused Portal program toward sanity, and encouraging her to disentangle the two very different kinds of code at the earliest opportunity.

Yori just hoped that her sister hadn't done Rinz any harm.

[stillpurring]

Lunging forward, Rinz caught the double discs, compacting them back into a single weapon. He turned slightly at his name, scanning quickly for the source and focusing in on Yori.

Yori.

He remembered her now. The last he'd seen her, his memories had been so altered and confused that he'd hardly been able to recognize her.

But why did he have to see her now? He was tearing apart, his own code attacking itself, causing glitches and massive confusion. He wanted to hurt, to destroy, to derezz, but such emotions were so completely against his original designation that he couldn't make sense of much anymore.

He sunk into a crouch, watching her with eyes half-hidden behind a lock of lazy dark hair. Too many emotions passed over his face, more than he was even aware of.

"Yorrrri. Not safe. You should go." His voice was stressed, glitches making it crackle in some spots.

[yorisearching]

"Nowhere on the Grid safer than with you," Yori said, tone light. Which was, she admitted to herself, perhaps not entirely a good thing, but perfectly true, what with unexpected Rinzlers arriving and, worse yet, rumors of Clu. Not the point.

And Rinz remembered her, now. There was always an layer of old terror, but Yori couldn't believe she was in any danger, whatever Rinz's own fear suggested. She moved a careful step closer.

The rumble in his voice was an interesting remnant, but his expression concerned her more.

"You're not the only one who's had to struggle through not being what you remember," she said quietly. "It's all right to feel angry, Rinz."

[stillpurring]

Gloved fingers reached up to hover over the long scar down his cheek before dropping back down to his side, eyes never leaving Yori's face. He wasn't the same. He hadn't been for a long time. Sometimes he wished he could be Tron again. There were so many people who had looked up to Tron. But Rinzler was dangerous, an enemy to all that Tron stood for.

What did that make him?

He stayed tensed and coiled, unable to make a decision. What to do? Attack? Defend?

"Not safe," he repeated, but there was less surety in his voice now, more hesitation and a hint of fear.

[creator_man]

Flynn was walking about again, hood drawn over his face and eyes watching over the Grid. His Grid, and yet... not his. He didn't deserve it, even less this place of new hope, complicated as it was; but he could do his best to care for it.

He needed to.

He rounded a corner to find a sort-of familiar sight, which made him stop for a moment and really look. Rinzler-Tron... the one who had been a cat, as far as he could see, his discs drawn and clutched in his hands, his body held so tight the waves of tension almost visible around him. And very, very clearly unhappy.

Flynn stood still for a moment, then called out, "greetings."

[stillpurring]

Rinz's attention snapped immediately to the User, dark eyes partially hidden and seething with anger, fear, hurt...so much emotion that he didn't know what to do with himself. It was too much for him to handle, and he was breaking.

The need to hurt, to maim, to kill, was threatening to overwhelm at the prospect of encountering someone who stood a greater chance than Gridbugs, and he was itching for violence. Gloved fingers tightened around orange-ringed discs.

"Go, Flynn," he ordered, voice harsh and shaking slightly.

[creator_man]

Flynn stood for a moment, thinking over the words, and the voice, and the meaning of them.

Then he straightened.

"No. Put away the discs and let's see what shape I am in. Sparring." No discs. No weapons.

After all, training Quorra had to involve some of this, over the cycles.

[stillpurring]

He'd always known Flynn to be reckless, but this? This was just plain idiocy.

"Clarrrify," he demanded, certain Flynn couldn't be this ridiculous.

[voiceless_anon]

If Anon were a program who admitted to frustration, he would be feeling very frustrated right now. The Rinzlers were proving elusive, and Anon was out on yet another patrol, trying to track one down.

Wait. Was that . . .?

Anon changed course, leaping diagonally down the walls between two closely located buildings. He'd seen a glimpse of orange inside an old and roofless training facility, one that had (according to the Archives) once been a Resistance base, eventually destroyed by Clu and his forces. Landing on top of the old walls, he ran along the tops of them until he found the right room. The figure there was a paler orange than he was used to, but still.

A Rinzler.

[stillpurring]

It had been a long time since Rinz had felt this much emotion, and combined everything amounted to deep, uncontrollable rage. He didn't know what to do with it. The only thing he could think of was to train.

So train he did, throwing his discs with much more force than necessary at projector targets and executing moves that were not at all needed. It was just an effort to vent, to get it out.

[voiceless_anon]

Interesting. This Rinzler was over-doing the power needed for those actions - Anon knew those moves well enough, some from performing them himself. He was also well acquainted with body language. Rinzler was angry, and taking it out on training targets instead of programs.

For a moment, Anon wondered if he should just leave Rinzler to it. But some little subroutine was running deep in his code, telling him that he hadn't been in combat for quite a while. While he enjoyed training with Lizor, sometimes Anon wanted something a little less cooperative.

There was room in the training pattern Rinzler had chosen for another program, and Anon dropped into that hole. His disc flashed out, hitting a target, and Anon leaped into a completely unnecessary flip to catch it. It felt good.

[stillpurring]

He fell into a defensive crouch at the other program's approach, dark eyes flashing across the room until they focused in and identified.

Interesting. How long had it been since he'd seen Anon? Before Clu broke Tron, surely. He only allowed himself a few moments before returning to his training with a fresh bout of aggressiveness. Anon would not disturb him. In fact, the presence of another security program, particularly one that he had once been fairly close to, was almost calming.

[namesram]

Ram hadn't seen Rinz very often since finding out he wasn't a cat anymore. He had, though, been checking up on his friends as often as he could find them, and -- in blatant defiance of the disturbances that had plagued the Grid lately -- taken to processing his statistics in plain sight in the park whenever it wasn't raining. When it hadn't mattered where he worked, he cold man his console till all hours with the best of them, but being confined against his will brought back too many bad memories.

He'd calculated there'd be time enough for a run before the next stats update, and set off around the edge of the park, skirting a low-rezz section that the maintenance crew hadn't got around to refurbishing.

A program loomed on the path ahead of him, turned slightly away, discs out and active. The pale circuits and absent helmet identified him before the peripherals did, and Ram slowed to a stop, a worried cast to his features as he assessed the security program's situation.

[[also Ram and Roy are sad that Rinzler had a fight with other

[stillpurring]

Quiet rage radiated off the security program, but to his intense displeasure, he was having difficulty finding a way to vent. So he stood in the middle of a path, partially hunched over and clutching his discs so tightly that the sharp edges were digging slightly into his hands.

He hadn't noticed Ram just yet, too distracted by conflicting emotions and an inability to properly function.

[[<3333333333333333333 hugs for you too Ram <33333]]

[namesram]

Rinz's anger reverberated over the space between them, and for a moment Ram wasn't certain whether interrupting whatever process was consuming him wouldn't do more harm than good. He couldn't just walk away, though. Not and leave his friend like this. It wouldn't be right.

He couldn't.

"Rinz," he called, his voice steady, readying himself for whatever the response might be.

[stillpurring]

He tensed at the familiar voice even more, if possible, tension practically rippling off him in waves. His head swiveled violently on his neck and stopped to focus on Ram. His eyes burned with anguish, violence, pain...

"Rrrram. Go," he said coldly.