(Untitled)

[anagrammatist]

WHO: Tom Riddle and OPEN
WHERE: in the area of Stark Tower
WHEN: late afternoon, October 10
WARNINGS: well. it's Voldemort. a very angry Voldemort. so. we'll see.
SUMMARY: Tom has arrived in the City! And he's pretty unhappy about it.
FORMAT: whatever!

Comments

[anagrammatist]

Tom sighed and opened his eyes again--he wouldn't accomplish anything just by standing around--to find that at least one of the Muggles hadn't been scared off. A girl a few years younger than himself. Wonderful.

He only briefly thought about tucking his wand away; it was far more important that he be able to defend himself than Muggles not learning about magic. Instead, he straightened a little and stared politely back at her, asking silently what she wanted.

[anagrammatist]

His eyes watched carefully as she reached into her pocket, though he was careful to only seem curious, and then narrowed a fraction when she pulled out a small box like the one in his own pocket. So he'd been right; there were more of them around.

He paused a moment before he nodded and pulled out his own communicator in answer. "I suppose you could put it that way, yes."

[anagrammatist]

[Pretty hard. Tom certainly didn't miss him. Or the electronics in his arms. Still nothing he recognized, but he was starting to expect that.

He donned his usual polite expression and waited for the man to get close enough.]

Excuse me.

[anagrammatist]

[It takes all his willpower not to sneer and to stay on his feet. He was really not in the mood for this sort of thing.

But he managed an abashed look somehow. Or something like one.]

Sorry, that was my fault. I hope nothing broke.

[notglitching]

Over fifty milicycles of observation and analysis, and Rinzler felt certain of a very few things. This was the user world. Clu wasn't here. And that needed to be rectified.

The method for doing so, unfortunately, remained well beyond the program's calculations. The Porter program controlled transport, but seemed far too entrenched in its own malfunctions to respond properly to control or coercion. And if the claims of the users present held true, there were permutations on the user world. Clu could have succeeded already, elsewhere. Simply. Without Rinzler.

The enforcer's head dipped faintly. He knew, with bleak and utter certainty, it wasn't Clu who needed him.

Still. He was watching. Waiting. Attempting to find solutions. And part of that process involved observing those who entered and exited the structure the Porter was housed in. The program stared down from his perch halfway up a building at the latest arrival. Nondescript. Another user. Who was-

InterestingThe black mask tilted slightly as red sparks shot from the user's

[anagrammatist]

He could feel it. It was the same feeling from the last couple months before he'd made his Horcrux, and from his time at the orphanage, especially after he started at Hogwarts.

He was being watched.

Though he couldn't say he was surprised. Dressed like this in a Muggle city with sparks shooting from his wand? Of course someone would be watching him. It could very well be another wizard, waiting for him to break the Statute or for him to move somewhere they could talk freely.

Well, whoever it was, perhaps he could get him to show himself. He tucked the wand away in his pocket, though he kept his hand wrapped around it, and started off down the street, coincidentally in Rinzler's direction.

[notglitching]

The user was drawing closer. Rinzler's mask angled down at the other, sound rumbling out with even regularity. He shouldn't have been spotted. The other hadn't even looked up-and the distance was far too great for the program's noise to cut across it.

Still. That would be... a strange coincidence. The program's hand twitched up, back-before recollection of his missing disks halted the movement. He didn't even have the energy to hate the absence at this point-he missed the stability of his backup. Needed it. But wanting never made a difference. Rinzler lowered his hand to his side instead, unclipped a black baton, ends lighting faint red-orange at his touch.

He didn't plan to target the user.

Probably.

But it couldn't hurt to be ready.

[anagrammatist]

It wasn't long before Tom paused and turned into an alley, one that the Muggles seemed to give no notice and was dark and long enough for him to hide fairly well. He really didn't want the American Ministry swooping down on him if he could help it. And it might make whoever was watching him more comfortable to come out if it was in a secluded place.

He cast a quick spell that would tell him the time, the numbers appearing in glowing green in the air before him, though he could tell enough by the sun to not really need it. 17:23, late afternoon. He waved his wand again to dismiss the numbers before they garnered attention. He was certain it had not been late afternoon back in Hogwarts; he'd been waiting for Harry to appear for far too long. The machine had brought him through time as well as giving him the body he'd wanted.

[screwmeister]

[Stein doesn't exactly look like the typical muggle--it's something about the oversized screw in his head and the over-stitched labcoat he always wears.

Of course, he's also aware of the set of imPorts who all use wands like the one Tom is fiddling with, which prompts him to change his original plan of "casually walking past the Porter building" to "chat up the obviously new imPort". So he walks up to Tom with a benign smile on his face, making sure to try and keep track of where the wand is. It's a weapon, after all.]

Hey. Feeling a little lost?

[he looked friendly enough, but there was something off about the monotone voice he spoke in.]

[anagrammatist]

[Tom couldn't help but stare a little as the man made his way over. Admittedly, his first thought was of Frankenstein's monster, which was fascinating all on its own, and then that this was probably not a Muggle. They might like to imagine such things, but no Muggle would be walking around with a giant screw in his head.

And he seemed to be friendly. Good. That would make things easier.

He shrugged and gave him a slightly apologetic look for the staring.] Yes, a little. It's all quite different from what I'm used to.

[screwmeister]

[Stein didn't give any sign that he noticed or cared about the staring. He stood slouched with his hands in his coat pockets.]

I guess it is time for a new batch of imPorts to show up. We come in pretty regularly.

[he shrugs.]

But it's not all bad. If you don't mind my asking, I'd be interested to hear what time and place you came from.

[anagrammatist]

[There's a spark of interest in his eyes at that. He'd already guessed that the machine had kidnapped more than just himself, but regularly...and this man was one of them. Even better.]

Nineteen fourty-three. I was attending a school in Scotland. [that's his story and he's sticking to it until Ginny someone calls him out on it] How often are people brought here?

[ginnydor]

Ginny was just walking, in the City. She did this often, with someone local if she could so that she could get to know the place better. Today she was on her own, which she didn't particularly mind. She liked the City, and while it was much busier than anything she was used to at home, being out in the open like this is an awful lot less crazy than the twins' flat.

Despite being more used to the place, though, she still had a habit of wandering the streets she knew best. She was walking near the Tower when she saw him. Leaning there, against the wall. Ginny froze where she stood.

She hadn't seen that face in six years. And yet she'd never forgotten it. She'd dreamed about it. But she'd thought he was gone, a memory. A memory in more ways than one; her memory of a boy she'd never really known. But he was here, she was sure. She tried at first to convince herself that it was someone else. Someone who looked like him, that was all. This was the City. People came here from all over the place, from different worlds and different

:DDDD hello

[anagrammatist]

Well, he should probably getting moving. Just staring around feeling frustrated wouldn't get anything done.

He pushed away from the wall and looked around again to decide where to go just in time to see red hair disappear into an alley nearby. His eyes narrowed a bit and he turned in that direction. Maybe he was being foolish, maybe he was still thinking too much about the Chamber when he should be focused on his current predicament...but it wouldn't hurt to at least walk by and glance in. It couldn't be anyone he knew anyway.

/cries

[ginnydor]

She was composing herself. She had to, she couldn't stay here. It was too close to him, too close to those nightmares.

Oh, this couldn't be real. She'd gotten it wrong, she thought she saw something when she didn't...

She'd made a mistake. A terrible, frightening, horrible mistake but that's all it was. And now she had to go home.

She turned, and found herself staring straight into his face. The breath left her body.

"...Tom."

no don't cry :c

[anagrammatist]

Oh. Well. This was definitely a surprise. And a somewhat unpleasant one at that, since she was considerable older than the Ginny he'd just left, and if his plans had worked out, that would have been impossible. Still, there was no mistaking who this was, not after the last nine months.

He fleetingly thought about acting like he didn't recognize her, but she would see through it; of course she would, he had Harry's wand and there was only one place he could have acquired that.

"Hello, Ginny."