Hey Kid, Do I Have Your Attention? [CLOSED]

[traceurmonitor]

Who: Pocket System Monitor (traceurmonitor) and his Bestest Virus Pal (infectthegrid)
What: Anon learns an extremely valuable lesson in why the lone wolf routine doesn't work. Here there be monsters.
Where: Residential Zone 07, presumably around the Grid section.
When: An indeterminate time after Kevin Flynn gets Clu-napped.
Notes: We are dealing with the huge scary virus

Comments

sorry for the late

[infectthegrid]

[The Grid. Or at least something similar enough to it. There's been the temptation to infect, destroy, as his purpose intends, but. This is Clu's place. His boss of sorts. An ally. The one who brought out what he really was, deep inside. What ISO coding truly was. He allowed him to compete in the games despite what he was. He couldn't touch it. Not yet.

He could however patrol, up high and out of sight. Perhaps even nab someone for himself. Clu had plenty to play with, to throw into the Game Grid. One or two, he would hardly miss. Besides they would all suffer one way or another, what did it matter how the suffering was created. Just as long as they all felt pain. His pain was preferable, but he couldn't be picky. Clu was to be followed for the time being

no worries!

[traceurmonitor]

[It's so uncanny that it's somehow completely disturbing to him, but at the same time... it's a small slice of home that he has desperately missed since coming to the station. He knows it isn't his Grid, of course - this thing is Clu's, but it's close enough for now. It'll be a shame when he has to destroy it. But that's just how things go. Secondary objectives include removing Clu from positions of power.

That's the last thing on his mind; primary objective still hasn't been completed-

-And an identity disc clips him in the arm, cutting into his arm a ways. Just long enough for him to notice the color. Oh, no. He manages to duck out of the disc's return path, turning to find his old foe as he pulls his own disc out. He does not have the time for this, but he can deal with this quickly enough and get back to the task at hand.]

[infectthegrid]

[Catching his disc, Abraxas lands, slamming a fist into the ground. Small cracks of yellow energy rippling outwards towards Anon before vanishing.]

You shouldn't be here, Monitor.

[He looks over his disc momentarily, the broken edge sparking slightly. Anon would suffer for everything he did. He'd regret coming here, he'd regret his actions back on the Grid. He would feel all the pain, and it would never end.

Another smash into the ground, this time the virus' disc, sending out waves of energy towards the monitor.]

[traceurmonitor]

[Anon leaps out of the way of the cracks, rolling back onto his feet once out of range of them. This takes him back... He shakes his head slightly.]

Right where I should be.

[Here, opposing Abraxas, with Gibson safely out of the way. He anticipates the ground slam a fraction too late, managing to dash out of the interior of the radius, but getting caught on the edge of it still sends him flying. He slams back-first into the ground, starting to haul himself up to his feet.]