Power of voodoo

[creator_man]

Who: Flynn, notglitching, and anyone else who would be involved.
Where: Outlands
When: Now
What: Actions, reactions, attempting to reason.
Warnings: Probably some mind screwery. Attempts will be made to keep violence to a minimum.

Comments

[yorisearching]

The heavier roar of the lightjet's near miss made Yori gasp, renewed terror all round. Glitch it, what was Ram thinking? Startling Rinzler with new angles of threat was no good way to keep his current object of focus safe, and if Ram got too close...Users, Ram. Stay back.

Yori pushed herself up from the rough rock, cold under her palms, her knee. She didn't venture to stand. Her head was a dizzy ache that almost matched her heart.

And then Rinzler's disk lit, sharp hum reinforcing the bite of terror if she'd needed it. His posture wasn't right for attack, not yet. Defensive, on guard, desperate. Trapped. Yori's code twisted in painful sympathy.

It surprised her that Rinzler was still here--she'd never known him not to carry an extra lightjet. Perhaps it had taken damage in his crash, or some earlier battle, and he hadn't yet replaced it. Perhaps habits simply differed.

Her own lightjet baton fell from its lock into her hand at a touch. Not damaged. She'd been careful.

"Rinzler." Yori offered the vehicle, her extended hand trembling but her gaze as steady as his helmet allowed. "I said no one would follow you now, as long as you weren't hurt in all this mess. I meant it. You're free to go. I won't let anyone follow."

Nothing she or Ram could do here, except make sure Rinzler had options. What few choices he could accept.

[namesram]

Ram's original plan had involved flying a lot nearer than he'd ended up doing; the backup plan, as much as there could have been any in this terrain and with this limited set of variables, was designed to take him out of the picture again as far as Rinzler was concerned, without getting far enough away to be able to intervene if needed. Huddled against the rock, he wasn't sure if Yori could see him from her angle on the ground, but gave her a feeble thumbs-up so she wouldn't have to factor any new worries into her calculations.

It had worked, anyway. Rinzler was away from Yori, and though his discs were lit now, there was less of a chance for an accidental slip.

And he was still fighting.

He could have derezzed Yori so easily. Probably could have taken Ram out of the sky with a quick throw even as he'd passed. Rinzler would have had no reason not to.

Yori's low voice was inaudible from this far, but Ram held his breath as she unlocked her baton and held it out, offering Rinzler freedom.

Ram pressed himself against the rock and didn't move.

After all that had passed, this was probably the best endgame they could hope for.

[notglitching]

Threats and tactics and the desperate hum of potential swarmed through Rinzler's processing, ran quick and hot down to the burning orange disk (his disk). Two in sight (her, her), the second-injured? (known). He could fight them-couldn't-had to-but there were others, threats, users. He had to run, had to get clear, get away, but movement lagged (weak) and the world crackled with error and malfunction and he. Couldn't. Process.

'Rinzler.'

She knew him. That was right. She knew him, she knew him. Eyes fixed, voice tight and clear with just the faintest catch. It cut through the space, cut through the stillness. (Cut through everything.) A promise. An offer. She reached out.

'You're free'

Rinzler's hand clenched on the white-edged disk with painful force, fingers curling in, pressing tight and useless against the rigid inner curve of orange light. His gaze twitched up, back-the other program leaned unsteadily against the rock, no weapon or clear threat. Watching, staring, eyes pained or painfully desperate, and for a moment, he knew that look, too.

The black helmet bowed. Shook, just slightly, from side to side.

Then Rinzler turned, motion uneven and slow, reached down to unclip his own baton. His second. Peripheral sensors sparked with wary effort as he moved away, steps unsteady, faint limp only barely hidden. Noise ticked out in a rough and even whir, and his processing was tangled, fractured, sickening pressure of warning and correction held back only by a desperate tug of priority. Leave, go, get out. Users would come, and he would hurt them and fight them and make them pay, but not now, not like this.

He shouldn't crash again. If he could help it.

Can't.

He reached the edge of the plateau, eyed the depth and shape with dull exhausted calculation. Not far. But enough. The air was clear and sharp, glass-edged pain cutting in bright cracks across his form as instabilities pressed through the sharp force of lift. But the jet rezzed. Rose. And Rinzler left. An orange streak shot for the sky and clouds, away from rocks and mazes, users and threats and mirrors and cages. Away from lies. Away from memory.

From them.

[yorisearching]

The weight of the baton and of tension dragged her hand down as Rinzler turned, her fingers tightening on the cylinder. His limp hurt to watch, the worse because Rinzler would never have shown that if he could help it. But there had been no major code damage. None new. He wouldn't need assistance for that, only plentiful energy and peace. Neither of which Yori could give him, no matter how desperately she wanted to.

She'd expected him to take her jet, even if his own did work, if only to keep her out of the sky. Expected him to see her as a potential threat, or an unpredictable factor at the least.

That he hadn't--it meant...something. Surely. Yori didn't quite dare speculate what, not now, not when his absence felt like vital code torn away from her own.

Something. Except she couldn't let herself forget that everything Rinzler managed through fear and reprogramming was meant for his Yori, the Yori who had never given in to Clu, whatever tragedy had happened in that shared past. Not for her. (Never for her.)

She didn't move until the orange jet slipped into the clouds, couldn't look away. It was a wrench even when the last glimmer was too far to see.

"Ram." Tears too audible in her voice. Yori swallowed, blinked, returned her jet to its place on her armor. "Are you all right? That didn't sound like a soft landing."

[namesram]

Ram watched unblinking as Rinzler's helmet turned toward him, the slight headshake warning and recognition, demand and farewell all at once. Then Rinzler turned toward the cliff -- his pained gait a new agony -- and the little program had to clutch the stone tightly to keep himself from moving. Rinzler wouldn't let anyone help him now.

He did shift away from the rocks as the bright spark of the lightjet rose out of sight. Already steadier -- the few moments' rest had helped a lot -- he took a few hesitant steps toward Yori.

"Fine," he said, and then had to repeat the word when it didn't quite come out. "'m fine. Good to go. What--"

What about you... but he already knew the answer to that. Unless Rinzler had done any actual damage when he'd landed on her, she was probably as fine as Ram was: not really, not at all, but enough to keep moving. And she hadn't taken off after Rinzler, so he wasn't in immediate danger either.

His jaw worked silently, and he took a breath. "What do we need to do?"

[yorisearching]

Her legs felt...about like someone had been foolhardy enough to jump out of a lightjet onto uneven Outland rock. Yori tested whether they'd hold her, and slowly stood. Ram didn't look hurt, at least.

That we. She wasn't sure she could plan even for herself right now. "I'm going to find Rinzler's lightjet baton." If it had survived the crash at all. Shooting at him would have done less damage. She should have known better. Users, she had known better.

"And then we need to get back to Flynn." Yori sighed. "Before anyone jumps to any conclusions."

She rubbed both hands across her face, into her eyes. The list of things she could have done differently, might have done wrong, should have done better, that was endless. But Rinzler would be all right, and he hadn't derezzed anyone here. Whether Rinzler accepted her edit or not, she'd seen enough of his code to perhaps do better next time, or help Alan-One prepare.

Rinzler would be very wary of tracking down rumors and traces of Clu in the future. That on its own was a small victory.

Yori began to pick her way down, into the canyon, where she'd seen bright traces from the damaged jet. "Rinzler can make it to the city," she added, realizing how little Ram had seen. "His armor took most of the impact and his energy levels are no lower than mine."