"Do you?" Gem noticed the darkening of his expression, but said nothing. They all had their secrets, locked within them. Why would this program be any different? In past cycles she would have pushed, manipulated, seduced--attempted to find out those hidden things quickly; now she was patient. Different. It was a better code pressed upon her.
"...remember?" She tilted her head slightly in return when he mentioned Castor. "He called himself Zues, then. He...helped programs." He had helped her--helped her break from her restrictive and suffocatingly tight programming long ago. To give her the freedom to move past the bowels of the arena, past the stasis chambers that Siren's called home. Despite her inability to remember everything in the past--she could remember that clearly. Perhaps because it had left such an indelible mark on her programming. She'd never know.
When he mentioned his name, Gem froze, her eyes widening slightly. Tron. The name flooded her databanks as they tried to process the information, trying to grasp at the old knowledge, of what she used to know. She remembered him--or her database remembered that she should know him. But again, the pieces were lost to the ether; she most likely would never get them back. She blamed her databases working in overdrive for what came out of her mouth, much too honest for her taste. "I should remember you. I knew you." Knew, not know.
Shaking herself from her processing, she frowned slightly, but nodded when he gestured to the couch. "Yes, please. Join me." She quickly shifted back to a knowing smirk as she moved back over to it, sitting down. Nothing about him read that she had to fear what he used to be, or currently was. And even if that was untrue...she was curious.
"I only know that Zues... played all the angles," Tron replied, moving to sit on the couch. "He may have helped some, but there was always a price to be paid." Her former companion did not interest him, however. Leaning forward, he rested his arms on his knees and looked at the Siren seriously.
"The Games... they're still going on? Who is in charge?" He kept his gaze intent on her, staring into her dark-rimmed eyes. "I was... involved with the Games for a very long time." Both as Tron and as Rinzler...
"Yes there was." There was some tinge of regret in her voice, but she quickly covered it up, taking a sip of her drink. "But we do what we must to survive." It did not work out well for her, but perhaps she had outlived her program's usefulness. Things were different now, though.
When he asked who was in charge, she shook her head, but kept her eyes on his. She answered honestly, despite her own frustration at her answer. "They are are. I do not--I do not know who is in charge." She fell silent, trying to process things once more. Perhaps the user who brought her back? "I remember." A small piece of data fell into place, and a flicker of a smile spread across her face. "You were very good. And did not derezz."
Tron tilted his head in acknowledgment. "Under Clu, that may have been the only way. And now... it is hard to calculate. It may be the same."
He frowned at her answer. Not knowing who was in charge of the Games made it difficult to determine how they would be played. "No. I did not derez the losers. I never allowed that, not even when Clu tried to order it." Not as Tron, anyway... He reached for a drink that had been placed on the low table in front of him, swirling the iridescent blue liquid thoughtfully. "Are failures subject to deresolution in the Games now? Or are they back to as... I had them played?"
"Then everything we take is a risk." It was a disheartening thought, to say the least. But what he said was true. They had no way to know who was in charge now, or who was going to attempt to take control.
Gem nodded. "Those were different times. I...it became tiring to see new programs each time." During the days of the Creator, she actually gained some friendships out of the players. But once Flynn fell...Rinzler was the only constant. All other programs derezzed.
When he asked about the fate of people, though, she shook her head. "It is a mixture. I have seen...people grant clemency, I have seen programs ended." Gem pressed her lips together in a thin line. "In some ways it is...chaotic."
"There is always risk," Tron mused softly. "In everything. Flynn... taught me that. Nothing is certain, nothing can be completely predicted."
He fell silent for a moment, considering her words. "Without a leader, the Games would indeed be chaotic. With no rules for the winner, the loser will be at their mercy." Perhaps this might be a place for him to start... he'd been deeply involved in the Games as Tron, the hero, the champion, and as Rinzler, the gladiator, the final opponent whom no one could survive. Maybe now he could... but as soon as he fought, he would be known...
"I may be able to help," he said slowly. "I knew the games very well." Tron had not been seen in the games for many hundreds of cycles, but there was a chance his name might be remembered. Rinzler... if he could have Rinzler erased and forgotten, that would be best, but he knew he would not be so lucky.
"But he wanted to make a perfect system. He contradicted himself." Gem frowned slightly, a slight tinge of bitterness in her voice. Her feelings towards the Creator were complicated. For making her what she was...the shackles of it. But to have been made, to be allowed to exist...that should have been enough.
But even her own conflicts had made her want to throw her lot in with Clu, like Jarvis. Or play the angles like Zues. Gem was, and always would be, her own program.
Taking a sip of her drink, she shifted closer, nodding. "Yes you did. Programs...you instilled hope in them. When the Creator was not here. If you trying to run the Games, to take over the arena..." She smiled slightly. "I think you should take the risk."
"He did, at first. But he was realizing that it could not be, even before Clu... well." Tron cut himself off, staring down at his drink. Those days were long past, and dwelling on them made no logical sense. Sometimes he longed for the simple conflict of trying to find a solution to the gridbugs, a way to let the ISOs live in peace in the Grid... a way to create Flynn's Utopia without the rigid "perfection" demanded by Clu...
He shook his head and took another swallow of the glowing energy, feeling the pleasant burn in his circuits. "It was another time. One we cannot return to."
But the Games, now... that he might be able to fix. "I will consider the risks," he said. "Would you be willing to assist?"
"...no we can not. Nor would I want to." She was better, different now. Gem had enjoyed those times, but now...now there was a great unknown. While it was terrifying, it was exhilarating as well. It was her first chance at true freedom, even if it was simply on the Grid.
Quirking an eyebrow at his question, her lips curled up in a smirk. "Me? Why would you trust me with that?" She was genuinely confused. Most programs saw her simply as a Siren, nothing more.
"You know the Games. You have been there the whole time." Tron shrugged. "And perhaps I believe that everyone deserves a second chance." Reaching up, he unclasped his cloak, revealing the small T shape at his throat. She might recognize it, she might not... but Rinzler had been well-known in the Games, and to the Sirens.
"...I do. And...and." Gem felt a slight warmth hit her cheeks as she nodded, finishing her processing before she spoke again, lest she sound foolish. "I would like that chance. To help run things with you."
When he revealed the mark, her eyes widened, the blue flaring for a moment as her databanks quickly tried to push all the data together. Without thinking, one of her hands moved to touch the four lit squares, tracing over them.
Rinzler. Tron...Tron, had become Rinzler. And what a triumph that had been for Clu, she thought--he had been able to re-purpose the protector of the Grid, into an instrument of Terror. And he had been trapped within the entire time.
When her eyes met his again, her face was awash in a sympathetic sadness--one who knew of being trapped in programming that was not of their choosing. She didn't say she was sorry--he wouldn't want them, she thought. "I am glad to see you free."
Tron fought the urge to flinch away as she reached for him, his instincts to fight deeply ingrained. Her touch was gentle, however, and he shuddered slightly as he breathed out, the T-shaped lights briefly glowing brighter. It reminded him of Yori, the way she would trace her fingers over his circuits, sending sensation racing through him... he quickly tried to push those thoughts aside, but he allowed Gem to continue touching him.
He could see the sympathy in Gem's eyes when she looked back at him, but was glad she didn't vocalize it. "Yes. It is good to be... myself, again. It was a very long time."
Gem hadn't expected to be allowed this, and she surprised herself by not removing her hand, but simply laying it flat against his panel, watching her own circuits slowly glow and flare up her arm. Strange, that warm flow of energy, even through suits was always...something. She didn't have another word for it at the moment. How long had it been? She couldn't remember, the information lost during the reboot.
When he spoke again, she slowly let her hand fall from his chest, her hand clenching slightly, as if to keep that warmth with her, even as the lights dimmed on her suit. "I can imagine. It seems we both have been given second chances. Though you may have deserved yours more than my own." A flicker of a smirk hit her lips. She was honest--she had done things that others wouldn't understand. But a user had chosen to give her life again, and she was greatful for that.
"So we shall reform the Games. Turn it back to the best form again. Or better." It was what she wanted. Perhaps she could find a way to set the other Sirens free.
Tron found that he was almost... disappointed as Gem pulled away. Was he truly that starved for a friendly touch? He'd been isolated so long as Rinzler, locked behind a mask and cold persona. During his reunion with Ram, they'd barely gone a moment without a touch, a brush of hand or embrace, the reminder that they were both still alive. But this was something different, evoking sensations and emotions that Tron had not felt in a very long time. Not since the old system...
There was no sense in those type of thoughts. Tron straightened his back and shook his head. "A second chance is a second chance. Whether we deserve it or not." After everything he'd done, Tron did not think he could ever atone.
"...I am disinclined to agree with that assessment, but I will not argue with you, Tron." Gem tilted her head when he straightened his back. There was amusement in her face, reaching her eyes. It wasn't a tease though--it was genuine. She hadn't been in Siren mode a few moments ago. That had been pure Gem--for whatever that meant. A rare grant of doing something she wanted. Perhaps the amusement was for knowing it hadn't gone awry. That it had been accepted, on some level.
Picking up her drink, she raised it up, her blue eyes catching his. "To new beginnings then...and steps in the right direction."
Tron wondered at the amusement in her eyes; had she only been playing with him? His own eyes narrowed slightly as he regarded her, but finding nothing deceptive in her expression, he relaxed again. He knew the Sirens were designed for pleasure, to seduce and entice the warriors of the Games, but her touch had not seemed to have that intent. He would accept the gesture for what it was.
Raising his glass in acknowledgment, he nodded and touched the rim lightly to hers. "To second chances." A rare smile crossed his face as he brought the glass to his lips to drink, and he found that he was actually optimistic about the future for the first time in... well, probably since he'd awakened.
"...remember?" She tilted her head slightly in return when he mentioned Castor. "He called himself Zues, then. He...helped programs." He had helped her--helped her break from her restrictive and suffocatingly tight programming long ago. To give her the freedom to move past the bowels of the arena, past the stasis chambers that Siren's called home. Despite her inability to remember everything in the past--she could remember that clearly. Perhaps because it had left such an indelible mark on her programming. She'd never know.
When he mentioned his name, Gem froze, her eyes widening slightly. Tron. The name flooded her databanks as they tried to process the information, trying to grasp at the old knowledge, of what she used to know. She remembered him--or her database remembered that she should know him. But again, the pieces were lost to the ether; she most likely would never get them back. She blamed her databases working in overdrive for what came out of her mouth, much too honest for her taste. "I should remember you. I knew you." Knew, not know.
Shaking herself from her processing, she frowned slightly, but nodded when he gestured to the couch. "Yes, please. Join me." She quickly shifted back to a knowing smirk as she moved back over to it, sitting down. Nothing about him read that she had to fear what he used to be, or currently was. And even if that was untrue...she was curious.
She had to know more.
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"The Games... they're still going on? Who is in charge?" He kept his gaze intent on her, staring into her dark-rimmed eyes. "I was... involved with the Games for a very long time." Both as Tron and as Rinzler...
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When he asked who was in charge, she shook her head, but kept her eyes on his. She answered honestly, despite her own frustration at her answer. "They are are. I do not--I do not know who is in charge." She fell silent, trying to process things once more. Perhaps the user who brought her back? "I remember." A small piece of data fell into place, and a flicker of a smile spread across her face. "You were very good. And did not derezz."
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He frowned at her answer. Not knowing who was in charge of the Games made it difficult to determine how they would be played. "No. I did not derez the losers. I never allowed that, not even when Clu tried to order it." Not as Tron, anyway... He reached for a drink that had been placed on the low table in front of him, swirling the iridescent blue liquid thoughtfully. "Are failures subject to deresolution in the Games now? Or are they back to as... I had them played?"
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Gem nodded. "Those were different times. I...it became tiring to see new programs each time." During the days of the Creator, she actually gained some friendships out of the players. But once Flynn fell...Rinzler was the only constant. All other programs derezzed.
When he asked about the fate of people, though, she shook her head. "It is a mixture. I have seen...people grant clemency, I have seen programs ended." Gem pressed her lips together in a thin line. "In some ways it is...chaotic."
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He fell silent for a moment, considering her words. "Without a leader, the Games would indeed be chaotic. With no rules for the winner, the loser will be at their mercy." Perhaps this might be a place for him to start... he'd been deeply involved in the Games as Tron, the hero, the champion, and as Rinzler, the gladiator, the final opponent whom no one could survive. Maybe now he could... but as soon as he fought, he would be known...
"I may be able to help," he said slowly. "I knew the games very well." Tron had not been seen in the games for many hundreds of cycles, but there was a chance his name might be remembered. Rinzler... if he could have Rinzler erased and forgotten, that would be best, but he knew he would not be so lucky.
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But even her own conflicts had made her want to throw her lot in with Clu, like Jarvis. Or play the angles like Zues. Gem was, and always would be, her own program.
Taking a sip of her drink, she shifted closer, nodding. "Yes you did. Programs...you instilled hope in them. When the Creator was not here. If you trying to run the Games, to take over the arena..." She smiled slightly. "I think you should take the risk."
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He shook his head and took another swallow of the glowing energy, feeling the pleasant burn in his circuits. "It was another time. One we cannot return to."
But the Games, now... that he might be able to fix. "I will consider the risks," he said. "Would you be willing to assist?"
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Quirking an eyebrow at his question, her lips curled up in a smirk. "Me? Why would you trust me with that?" She was genuinely confused. Most programs saw her simply as a Siren, nothing more.
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When he revealed the mark, her eyes widened, the blue flaring for a moment as her databanks quickly tried to push all the data together. Without thinking, one of her hands moved to touch the four lit squares, tracing over them.
Rinzler. Tron...Tron, had become Rinzler. And what a triumph that had been for Clu, she thought--he had been able to re-purpose the protector of the Grid, into an instrument of Terror. And he had been trapped within the entire time.
When her eyes met his again, her face was awash in a sympathetic sadness--one who knew of being trapped in programming that was not of their choosing. She didn't say she was sorry--he wouldn't want them, she thought. "I am glad to see you free."
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He could see the sympathy in Gem's eyes when she looked back at him, but was glad she didn't vocalize it. "Yes. It is good to be... myself, again. It was a very long time."
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When he spoke again, she slowly let her hand fall from his chest, her hand clenching slightly, as if to keep that warmth with her, even as the lights dimmed on her suit. "I can imagine. It seems we both have been given second chances. Though you may have deserved yours more than my own." A flicker of a smirk hit her lips. She was honest--she had done things that others wouldn't understand. But a user had chosen to give her life again, and she was greatful for that.
"So we shall reform the Games. Turn it back to the best form again. Or better." It was what she wanted. Perhaps she could find a way to set the other Sirens free.
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There was no sense in those type of thoughts. Tron straightened his back and shook his head. "A second chance is a second chance. Whether we deserve it or not." After everything he'd done, Tron did not think he could ever atone.
"It is a place to start."
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Picking up her drink, she raised it up, her blue eyes catching his. "To new beginnings then...and steps in the right direction."
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Raising his glass in acknowledgment, he nodded and touched the rim lightly to hers. "To second chances." A rare smile crossed his face as he brought the glass to his lips to drink, and he found that he was actually optimistic about the future for the first time in... well, probably since he'd awakened.
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