Power of voodoo

[creator_man]

Who: Flynn, notglitching, and anyone else who would be involved.
Where: Outlands
When: Now
What: Actions, reactions, attempting to reason.
Warnings: Probably some mind screwery. Attempts will be made to keep violence to a minimum.

Comments

[notglitching]

The blue-lit program was pressing forward. Pressing closer. It didn't make sense, he couldn't process the action.

Or maybe he just couldn't find the energy to care.

Staring at him. He stared back. Orange deflecting off blue deflecting off orange, both rebuffed by the barrier between. His sound was a growl, a low building snarl. Because it didn't matter what this program thought or said or looked like (head tipped up, stubborn scowl, insistent-familiar, known). It didn't make a difference.

Rinzler was the one in the cage.

Target. Enemy. Threat. Anything else was a lie, another trick or betrayal or misdirection in these looping pathways of taunts and traps. Nowhere to get. Nothing to do but run himself in circles, strike uselessly against locks and walls that recoded, replaced, layered themselves around him. His grip still tightened, disk jerking up as a harsh scrape of sound jarred from his vocalizer, because it didn't matter, none of it mattered, he wanted to break it, destroy them, (can't stop, can't stop trying, don't let them-