OOC: Flynn has a list. I don't. You know who you are.
[It's not clear where Flynn is right now, but it's indoors, because the glow of the computer readouts hanging in the air around him is pronounced. It doesn't look like the default skin of the wearable interface; Flynn's heavily customized it since arriving. In fact, it looks exactly like the
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Will eliminate threat.
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Negative, buddy. If you de-rez him, Hypatia will just re-rez him. We gotta think laterally on this one.
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Confirmed. Directive?
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Right now? I want your input. You're my System Security head, man. Analyze the situation for me.
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Unable to comply. Insufficient data; incompatible directive. Request denied.
Inform when something to destroy.
[And he's gone again.]
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Flynn's far too gone inside himself to notice Tron's approach, which is much quieter than the program thinks it is. Zazen is indescribable, the place where reason and unreason give way simply to being, and Flynn isn't even aware of the passage of time. (His knees are going to pay for it when he gets up.)
Tron has as much time as he wants to study the user sitting there in the night, unless he makes far more noise than he is now.]
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He didn't want to be anywhere near the User--was frustrated that Flynn didn't listen to him again--but couldn't seem to make himself leave. He settled down on his haunches to watch the User from afar for a while.
If there was one thing about this encounter that had Tron very intrigued it was the stillness of the entire situation. He had a hard time staying focused on Flynn just because the User was being so damned still. He had never seen Flynn like this before; Flynn had always been moving, doing, testing something. This...was new.
Eventually the program ran out of patience.
He approached Flynn from the side so as not to be completely rude, but his circuits were still off and he was still moving as quietly as possible (and wincing at the sound of the grass despite the near-silent movement he was making). When he got close enough he gave one indication that he was present: he turned off the silencer written in just for his white noise and rumbled softly at Flynn.]
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Hello, old friend.
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Greetings, Flynn.
[His voice is deadpan yet pitched low as if in some deference.]
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Thank you for coming.
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He shifts uncomfortably and straightens his head out to revert back to completely neutral.]
Purpose?
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[Flynn sighs, some of the weight of the long cycles apparent in the gesture.]
I know I'm not listening to you again, but it just hurts too damn much, man. And you've always been really good at making sure I don't suffer for my follies.
[He laughs, and there's even a hint of humor in it, frail and self-deprecating though it is.]
So what's once more? Just like old times, right?
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But he can't fully understand it and so he is just left to awkwardly rumble in otherwise silence.
After a while he attempts a response. One that ignores most of what Flynn said.]
Acknowledged. Fix your problems for you. Always.
[It's as close to a promise as he's likely to get right now.]
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