"troubled times, caught between confusions and pain"
Who: Tronzler Rinzler and you.
What: Glitchy sometimes-blue program going around being crazy and/or helpful.
Where: All over.
When: "Friendly Reminder" days 2 onwards. 2-3 preferred unless plotted otherwise. Specify in your tag?
Warnings: Rinzler. (...mindrape, mental/physical trauma, violence, blood (not his), general CRAZY.)
( 'distant eyes, promises were made in vain' )
What: Glitchy sometimes-blue program going around being crazy and/or helpful.
Where: All over.
When: "Friendly Reminder" days 2 onwards. 2-3 preferred unless plotted otherwise. Specify in your tag?
Warnings: Rinzler. (...mindrape, mental/physical trauma, violence, blood (not his), general CRAZY.)
( 'distant eyes, promises were made in vain' )
'I can't slow down now, though.' Whatever these... things were, he doubted that everyone else would be doing as well-off as he was. How many people were still out here, unable to get to some kind of shelter?
A flicker of blue catches his attention nearby, and the feeling of... something? It felt like a person, almost--a heart, but injured? It was enough to send the armored Keybearer investigating. "Hello? Is someone there?"
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Falling was easier. Disks still half-embedded in the oversized gridbug on top of him, the program toppled off the short roof, tried to curl as he fell-and landed half on top of some skeletal appendages. Injured or no, Rinzler was quicker-but it was hard to leap away when the dead shell of his last opponent was still weighing him down.
He jerked his disks free, stabbed down to break the grasping limbs. The first few shattered, sending a burst of satisfaction through his processing-this was far closer to how derezz should look. But a couple grabbed hold-and while the grips felt weaker than expected, the program was still dragged halfway into a gaping fissure before he'd managed to clear the attackers.
The dark mask snapped up, scanning his surroundings as his circuits flickered, uneven patches of blue and orange barely lit. He was physically a mess, mentally a wreck, processing scrambled and unsteady. But he thought he'd heard something. He should react. Respond. (fight?Managing to stand would probably be a ( ... )
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The sounds died by the time he made his way over, and... he's left standing there, looking at a very clearly injured man, trying to stand. He doesn't even pause to question anything out of place--the glowing lines that keep going from blue-white to orange-red, the odd blocky look around the edges of those injuries, or the really strange feeling of ... almost corruption and fighting he's getting-- he's there, helping the other up.
"It's all right; I've got you." Very badly injured, even though there wasn't any blood. A brief moment of concentration, and the familiar green-light of the Curaga spell washes over the other, visibly mending a large amount of the damage.
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Something grabbed him.
Someone. That much managed to register, between the shock and panic and utter shame that he'd so completely failed to react in time. The program froze, disks flaring active as he was-lifted? Doesn't matter, need to move (run), attack (defend)-
...
The program had half jerked to turn, move, get away when something. Happened. A flare of light, a... sensation. And recompile. Rinzler froze again, this time in utter confusion. He could feel his code repairing itself, smaller errors and gaps righting themselves-the hole through his side stabilizing, new code rezzing to fill part of the damage. He stared down, another flash of brief panic-but his disks were there, in his grip, untampered with. They surged briefly bright, as if with resync, but didn't-weren't-had this user altered them?
The black mask tilted towards the other, stuttering rumble vibrating through the contact. His hands tightened over his disks, but he didn't-couldn't-what was
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It didn't really matter right now; all hell had broken loose. Maybe this guy had just been fighting these things without a chance for a rest? That could make anyone more wary of the unknown."Relax; I'm not going to hurt you."
He can't help but frown behind his helmet at how the Curaga hadn't fixed everything. That was the most powerful form of the spell he knew, and it almost always completely healed anyone it was cast on. 'Might as well try again... one more couldn't hurt. But if he's not familiar with magic...'
It'd be a good idea to explain what he's doing, wouldn't it? "I just used a healing spell on you; I'm going to use another one, all right? A lot of the damage was fixed with the first one, but I'd rather not take any chances."
A sigh, another quick pause to concentrate, and a second Curaga.
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This was entirely outside his experience.
The program by no means relaxed-but he didn't move as the user spoke. Hands flexed, clenched over orange-ringed disks as the green glow built again. The sensation was expected this time, but that didn't make it any less strange-and he stared down as the slice through his shoulder closed seamlessly, new voxels of code replacing the absence in his side. Repair. But not from his disks, not from any rewrite Rinzler could identify. He didn't... think he'd changed besides that.
The light faded, and the program did pull away. Stepped back. The helmet tilted, gaze flitting between the lack of injury across his own form and the user in front. Even his energy levels had improved-not as a full ( ... )
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