Fanfiction: C.L.U. (Tron: Legacy)
Title: “C.L.U."
Status: OneShot; Complete
Fandom: Tron: Legacy
Characters: C.L.U., Tron, Kevin Flynn (mentioned)
Disclaimer: The big mouse owns half the world, both Tron movies included.
Rating: PG-13
Beta: The great snare-chan! Thanks again!
Summary: Recently, he had begun to have... doubts. First, those had centered on his ability to oversee the Grid's development by the parameters his User had set out for him. But now, they lingered on Flynn. - Why did C.L.U. betray Flynn? And did he?
C.L.U.
C.L.U. remained behind in the main control tower, in the midst of TRON city. He stood with his arms crossed in front of his chest and watched through the window as Flynn and Tron appeared on the plaza below.
They stood out with their bright circuitry in the eternal darkness of the Grid, which was only illuminated by the buildings outlines. Other light sources would need to be installed soon, seeing as the population of programs rose steadily in pace with the system's complexity.
Judging by Flynn's typical, exaggerated body language, the Creator explained his latest spur-of-the-moment idea to his companion. Tron was listening attentively, although, at one point, he urged Flynn to use his baton. Their Light Cycles rezzed into existence and they sped away, following the 'scenic route' in favor of the most efficient one.
C.L.U. frowned. That decision would result in damages rising by a percentage of 0.8 %, until they arrived in section F-3 to deal with the energy net failure. He sighed; it was an irritating habit he had picked up from Flynn. It seemed to be an appropriate reaction to his frustration, albeit a singularly unhelpful one.
His frown deepened - the reflection was off, his own image slightly distorted. C.L.U. pressed his hand to the smooth and cool glass, feeling it under his palm. But there was much more to it, the code it was made up of humming under his fingertips. He could even see it, as if two pictures overlapped each other and there they were damaged sequences, fissures, corroded by their recent design overhaul.
It took no conscious processing on C.L.U.'s part to correct the faulty lines and then re-integrate them. To optimize the system was his purpose and he was never free of it. Maximizing the energy output, expanding the cities parameter, securing it from the gridbugs, tending to the programs' needs, overseeing Flynn's many pet-projects - there was never an end in sight. These were small steps on the way to perfection.
C.L.U. did not mind the burden of responsibility resting on his shoulders, but during these millicycles the bugs, glitches and system failures multiplied with an alarming rate, no matter what improvements and changes he implemented.
C.L.U. stepped away from the window and returned to his seat at the main terminal. He resumed his work, but his typing stopped soon.
Recently, he had begun to have... doubts. First, those had centered on his ability to oversee the Grid's development by the parameters his User had set out for him. But now, they lingered on Flynn. The Creator, his User, spent even more time in the other world and that affected the system as a whole. Of course, Flynn always said that he would be back soon and he left instructions behind. But what he defined so carelessly as 'soon' amounted here to what User's called 'months' and 'years'.
The chair dipped beneath C.L.U., accommodating his shift to a sprawl that ended with his feet resting on the terminal.
He was the system administrator and was meant to substitute for Flynn. As such, he could derezz and repurpose programs, and he had a higher security clearance and access to functions than even Tron. But still, his hands were tied in the most inopportune moments because Flynn's master key and ability to create was needed - or simply his approval.
More often than not, their Creator left them to fend for themselves, though. He was not there when they needed him. Flynn was acting against his function...
C.L.U. had tried so often to remind him of his own responsibility, but Flynn lacked either the interest or the focus to listen, so occupied was he with things he deemed to be more important. Like those ISO's...
It made no sense to C.L.U.: How could Flynn demand of him to create the perfect system, promising to do it together even, and then abandon their plans, set them aside, change them and drop them, only to start anew?
Flynn brought chaos into the system and would have spread it like a virus, had C.L.U. not been there to run interference. The User seemed wholly ignorant to that.
That had revealed something of import to C.L.U.: Users were not perfect. In fact, they knew themselves to be lacking and wrote programs to compensate their weaknesses - to make their own lives more comfortable, to simplify them. Programs were meant to fill in a need, like all other tools.
C.L.U. sighed again and took a swallow from a vial with energy he had retrieved earlier. It prickled on his tongue, and rushed into his system. Absorbed, it brightened the yellow glow of his circuitry, although most of its shine was hidden by his leather jacket.
It... disconcerted C.L.U, this revelation of his. And Flynn's behavior had become more erratic, ever since he had lost what he called his 'wife' through derezzing, which left the Creator to care for another copy of his, a 'son'.
C.L.U. turned the empty vial and rolled it up and down between his palms in contemplation. Was his User, despite their obvious divergence of opinions, truly oblivious to the fact that he was pushing C.L.U. to take action? He needed to, to protect the system and fulfill his function - he was running out of viable alternatives, if he could not bring Flynn to see reason, and soon.
Tron, of course, was no ally in the matter. He was more a hindrance, really. The security program was too defined by his need to serve the Users. That was his sole purpose, after all, his core component. C.L.U. could not blame his old friend for that.
C.L.U., on the other hand, was not instilled with the same illogical, religious reverence. Flynn had not made it part of his programming, probably because he took such devotion for granted. He was C.L.U.'s programmer, as C.L.U. was Flynn's carbon copy.
But programs were written to fill in a need, to counterbalance their User's imperfections. Flynn had bestowed him with one primary directive only: to create the perfect system. Since his User failed time and again to achieve that goal, hindered it even, C.L.U. was determined to do it for him. He could choose freely, and he had chosen his devotion to Flynn where Tron had no such choice.
C.L.U. derezzed the vial in his clasped hands with an audible snap.
End
Status: OneShot; Complete
Fandom: Tron: Legacy
Characters: C.L.U., Tron, Kevin Flynn (mentioned)
Disclaimer: The big mouse owns half the world, both Tron movies included.
Rating: PG-13
Beta: The great snare-chan! Thanks again!
Summary: Recently, he had begun to have... doubts. First, those had centered on his ability to oversee the Grid's development by the parameters his User had set out for him. But now, they lingered on Flynn. - Why did C.L.U. betray Flynn? And did he?
C.L.U.
C.L.U. remained behind in the main control tower, in the midst of TRON city. He stood with his arms crossed in front of his chest and watched through the window as Flynn and Tron appeared on the plaza below.
They stood out with their bright circuitry in the eternal darkness of the Grid, which was only illuminated by the buildings outlines. Other light sources would need to be installed soon, seeing as the population of programs rose steadily in pace with the system's complexity.
Judging by Flynn's typical, exaggerated body language, the Creator explained his latest spur-of-the-moment idea to his companion. Tron was listening attentively, although, at one point, he urged Flynn to use his baton. Their Light Cycles rezzed into existence and they sped away, following the 'scenic route' in favor of the most efficient one.
C.L.U. frowned. That decision would result in damages rising by a percentage of 0.8 %, until they arrived in section F-3 to deal with the energy net failure. He sighed; it was an irritating habit he had picked up from Flynn. It seemed to be an appropriate reaction to his frustration, albeit a singularly unhelpful one.
His frown deepened - the reflection was off, his own image slightly distorted. C.L.U. pressed his hand to the smooth and cool glass, feeling it under his palm. But there was much more to it, the code it was made up of humming under his fingertips. He could even see it, as if two pictures overlapped each other and there they were damaged sequences, fissures, corroded by their recent design overhaul.
It took no conscious processing on C.L.U.'s part to correct the faulty lines and then re-integrate them. To optimize the system was his purpose and he was never free of it. Maximizing the energy output, expanding the cities parameter, securing it from the gridbugs, tending to the programs' needs, overseeing Flynn's many pet-projects - there was never an end in sight. These were small steps on the way to perfection.
C.L.U. did not mind the burden of responsibility resting on his shoulders, but during these millicycles the bugs, glitches and system failures multiplied with an alarming rate, no matter what improvements and changes he implemented.
C.L.U. stepped away from the window and returned to his seat at the main terminal. He resumed his work, but his typing stopped soon.
Recently, he had begun to have... doubts. First, those had centered on his ability to oversee the Grid's development by the parameters his User had set out for him. But now, they lingered on Flynn. The Creator, his User, spent even more time in the other world and that affected the system as a whole. Of course, Flynn always said that he would be back soon and he left instructions behind. But what he defined so carelessly as 'soon' amounted here to what User's called 'months' and 'years'.
The chair dipped beneath C.L.U., accommodating his shift to a sprawl that ended with his feet resting on the terminal.
He was the system administrator and was meant to substitute for Flynn. As such, he could derezz and repurpose programs, and he had a higher security clearance and access to functions than even Tron. But still, his hands were tied in the most inopportune moments because Flynn's master key and ability to create was needed - or simply his approval.
More often than not, their Creator left them to fend for themselves, though. He was not there when they needed him. Flynn was acting against his function...
C.L.U. had tried so often to remind him of his own responsibility, but Flynn lacked either the interest or the focus to listen, so occupied was he with things he deemed to be more important. Like those ISO's...
It made no sense to C.L.U.: How could Flynn demand of him to create the perfect system, promising to do it together even, and then abandon their plans, set them aside, change them and drop them, only to start anew?
Flynn brought chaos into the system and would have spread it like a virus, had C.L.U. not been there to run interference. The User seemed wholly ignorant to that.
That had revealed something of import to C.L.U.: Users were not perfect. In fact, they knew themselves to be lacking and wrote programs to compensate their weaknesses - to make their own lives more comfortable, to simplify them. Programs were meant to fill in a need, like all other tools.
C.L.U. sighed again and took a swallow from a vial with energy he had retrieved earlier. It prickled on his tongue, and rushed into his system. Absorbed, it brightened the yellow glow of his circuitry, although most of its shine was hidden by his leather jacket.
It... disconcerted C.L.U, this revelation of his. And Flynn's behavior had become more erratic, ever since he had lost what he called his 'wife' through derezzing, which left the Creator to care for another copy of his, a 'son'.
C.L.U. turned the empty vial and rolled it up and down between his palms in contemplation. Was his User, despite their obvious divergence of opinions, truly oblivious to the fact that he was pushing C.L.U. to take action? He needed to, to protect the system and fulfill his function - he was running out of viable alternatives, if he could not bring Flynn to see reason, and soon.
Tron, of course, was no ally in the matter. He was more a hindrance, really. The security program was too defined by his need to serve the Users. That was his sole purpose, after all, his core component. C.L.U. could not blame his old friend for that.
C.L.U., on the other hand, was not instilled with the same illogical, religious reverence. Flynn had not made it part of his programming, probably because he took such devotion for granted. He was C.L.U.'s programmer, as C.L.U. was Flynn's carbon copy.
But programs were written to fill in a need, to counterbalance their User's imperfections. Flynn had bestowed him with one primary directive only: to create the perfect system. Since his User failed time and again to achieve that goal, hindered it even, C.L.U. was determined to do it for him. He could choose freely, and he had chosen his devotion to Flynn where Tron had no such choice.
C.L.U. derezzed the vial in his clasped hands with an audible snap.
End