(no subject)
Title: Stepping Stones
Rating: T
Universe: Tron
Pairing: None at the moment, will be developing
Word Count: 414
The first time Sark is introduced to the MCP, it is fairly early in his existence. He is dressed like any other program, blue lines of circuitry and paths following over his body. He is wearing the same helmet, the same clothes, the only defining feature, like most programs, is his face.
"I am command program Sark." he says, "My User created me to carry out and manage the directives given by -"
"Do not speak of your User." The MCP commands. Although his face is older than the other programs, Sark is still young in form and knowledge. He goes silent, a flicker of fear running through his circuits as the MCP makes his demands, "I am your master, command program Sark. You will not recognize the Users around other programs. Acknowledge."
Sark gives a nod, he isn't going to argue with the MCP itself. But he is curious as to why this directive is given - the Users made them, why not speak of them freely?
He hesitates, then finally speaks, eyes rising and quickly lowering back down once they meet the red gaze of the MCP.
"What is your command, Master Control?"
"Enter the games." The crimson obelisk states, "Show no mercy to your opponents. After every victory, claim you fight for the me - the Master Control Program."
Sark hesitates, taken aback. He has never been in the games before - he hasn't even touched his own disk yet and given it a throw.
"What's the matter, Sark?" the MCP asks.
Sark swallows, nervous, "I am not..familiar with the games, Master Control - I have not had training or been in one before. And to show no mercy, Master Control, the games were created by the Users for their enjoyment, not for the elimination of pr-
Sark suddenly doubles over, the blue circuitry in his suit turning red and beginning to fragment as his power cycles are slowed down. He can feel his body float, like an invisible hand is holding him above the ground. The MCP holds him there for a moment, allowing the pain to become paramount within his body before letting him drop, his suit slowly shifting from red, to purple, then finally returning to its normal blue hue.
"Do not make me repeat myself, Sark. You will do as I command, or you'll find yourself in a remote control. End of line."
Sark blinks, getting up and looking at the MCP, which stares back at him. He inclines his head, and turns, returning to the transport that had brought him there.
Rating: T
Universe: Tron
Pairing: None at the moment, will be developing
Word Count: 414
The first time Sark is introduced to the MCP, it is fairly early in his existence. He is dressed like any other program, blue lines of circuitry and paths following over his body. He is wearing the same helmet, the same clothes, the only defining feature, like most programs, is his face.
"I am command program Sark." he says, "My User created me to carry out and manage the directives given by -"
"Do not speak of your User." The MCP commands. Although his face is older than the other programs, Sark is still young in form and knowledge. He goes silent, a flicker of fear running through his circuits as the MCP makes his demands, "I am your master, command program Sark. You will not recognize the Users around other programs. Acknowledge."
Sark gives a nod, he isn't going to argue with the MCP itself. But he is curious as to why this directive is given - the Users made them, why not speak of them freely?
He hesitates, then finally speaks, eyes rising and quickly lowering back down once they meet the red gaze of the MCP.
"What is your command, Master Control?"
"Enter the games." The crimson obelisk states, "Show no mercy to your opponents. After every victory, claim you fight for the me - the Master Control Program."
Sark hesitates, taken aback. He has never been in the games before - he hasn't even touched his own disk yet and given it a throw.
"What's the matter, Sark?" the MCP asks.
Sark swallows, nervous, "I am not..familiar with the games, Master Control - I have not had training or been in one before. And to show no mercy, Master Control, the games were created by the Users for their enjoyment, not for the elimination of pr-
Sark suddenly doubles over, the blue circuitry in his suit turning red and beginning to fragment as his power cycles are slowed down. He can feel his body float, like an invisible hand is holding him above the ground. The MCP holds him there for a moment, allowing the pain to become paramount within his body before letting him drop, his suit slowly shifting from red, to purple, then finally returning to its normal blue hue.
"Do not make me repeat myself, Sark. You will do as I command, or you'll find yourself in a remote control. End of line."
Sark blinks, getting up and looking at the MCP, which stares back at him. He inclines his head, and turns, returning to the transport that had brought him there.