when I rule the world

[coadminclu]

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. 

Comments

[tronja307020]

For not the first -and probably not last - time, Tron contemplated moving residencies to the neighborhood around the arcade as he patrolled the area. He spent enough time there, monitoring and keeping watch. It would only make sense.

The thought stalled momentarily in his processor, however, when he turned the corner and saw the figure near the terminal, dressed in the strange clothes Flynn had so rarely worn in the old millicycles. He called out, realizing it must have been the younger Flynn he'd met before, jogging over even as he scanned for any sign of the Rinzlers, his guard instantly up.

"Flynn, greetings. It's been some time. Are you safe?"

[coadminclu]

Clu turned with a guilty start at Tron's voice. He didn't know what might have happened to Tron, any Tron, in this unhappy collection of timelines, but apparently there was very good reason for any security program to see Clu himself as a threat. Especially Tron, who'd fought for and beside Flynn since before Clu's creation.

It was the first time in memory that Tron's presence had made him feel less safe. He didn't like the feeling at all.

A brief temptation flickered to confirm the mistaken identity, but his other-self had done enough damage already.

He raised both hands in preemptive surrender, and admitted, "Not Flynn. But I've just been speaking to him, and it seems things happened very differently here than at home." He swallowed nervously. "I hope you'll give me a chance to explain."

[tronja307020]

For a single moment, the other man's reaction made his own feet hesitate in their steps, the uneasy look on his face instantly setting Tron's circuits on a crackling edge.

It only deepened when the other lifted his hands in surrender, when he spoke and looked as if Tron were about to harm him, and there was a split second of confusion before the words hit home and the expression on his face fell from open curiosity to dawning rage as he stepped forward, his hands balling into fists at his sides.

"You...it's you!"

[coadminclu]

Yes? No? Not exactly? What did one say to a furious Tron? Last time Clu had seen his friend look anything like that, a group of exploitive tourists had been very unhappy. And he was the tourist here.

"I don't mean any harm," he promised. For what good that did. Clu quite understood if Tron had no trust left for any variation on him. Not when his other-self had betrayed Flynn. Never any question which side Tron would come down on there.

He flexed his fingers, didn't draw any weapon, though that expression was making him think it might have been wiser. "I just want to go home, okay?"

~SOB~ Tron likes to hurt people when he's hurting. I hope he doesn't say anything ~too~ Clu-breaky!

[tronja307020]

He felt a bitter laugh bubble up in his chest at the sight of the former-Admin's fear, emboldened even as he felt a horrible, sick twist of unease in the back of his processor and a flash of memory of Clu1's timid face when they first met flashing through his head. He surged forward, his hands reaching out for the collar on the coat, an uncharacteristic snear crossing his face.

"I'm sure you do! You don't have any power here. How does it feel, being on the other side???" He snarled, his hands shaking as tears began to blur his vision, and he blinked them away furiously, giving the other Program a once over. "Why are you wearing the User's clothes? What did you do to Flynn and Sam and Quorra??? Don't tell me you won!"

Was he shouting? He didn't even seem to care. All that mattered was the huge, painful clench in his chest. Even with that ever-growing errors going off in his head, screaming at him to [STOP]

[coadminclu]

How it felt? Like someone had shoved a knife in his code and twisted it. Worse than being lost and alone and powerless, far worse, was that look on Tron's face--the loss of Tron's friendship, of his respect...

If he ever met the version of himself who'd done that, he'd start with punching him and move on from there. But no violence now, not to Tron. Clu held very still as the strong hands twisted the cloth at his neck.

"I didn't do anything, I never did anything to them, they're fine--" So Quorra had been that last survivor. He hoped she'd gone on surviving. "There wasn't a fight!" And thus apparently his whole world had won some sort of cosmic blessing.

[tronja307020]

The response he received was harshly different then what he was expecting, and he gaped at the Program for a brief instant, his hands gripping in the collar so tight he could hear the material of his gloves crackling and stretching audibly with the strain. "You're lying! Everything you say is a lie!" But the denial was enough to throw his processes for a loop, it was so adamant of his innocence and almost...afraid.

The warnings going off in his mind only got worse, screaming [ERROR] and [TERMINATE CURRENT DIRECTIVE], and he saw in his mind again the memory of that face wearing that same expression, but old, much older even then his memories of the things Clu had done that had caused his rage. He heard his own voice stuttering wordlessly at the confusion, his hands shaking the man as if he wanted to throttle him but had suddenly lost the strength to do it.

He had the same expression Flynn had worn when he'd come to the Grid so many cycles ago in the millicycles immediately following the loss of his Companion, Jordan.

[coadminclu]

What defense was there to make against such a sweeping declaration? Clu didn't doubt that Tron had all kinds of evidence to back up that claim about his other-self. Pulling off a coup (a coup! as though he was, what, some kind of Earth-born petty general?)--it didn't happen without lying to everyone on the Grid. Otherwise you called it a massive argument instead.

Might have worked out better, that.

Instinct thousands of cycles old said that any Tron this deeply distressed needed a Flynn-style hug, but Clu was clearly not a comforting presence here. He gripped both Tron's arms instead, not trying to dislodge the security program's hold but squeezing lightly to underscore his own sincerity, and incidentally keep his balance. "Jalen's my co-admin now, as good a friend as you or Shaddox--I never hurt the Isos, Tron! And it makes me sick what happened here, but I didn't do it."

Clu couldn't allow this to go much further. He was a co-admin, and far from helpless. Damaging him might make Tron feel better for a while, but