(Untitled)

[tronja307020]

Who: Tron and Open
When: After he's had a few millicycles to adjust to the new Grid.
Where: The Outlands and Hideout
What: Chasing his own demons
Warnings:  Nothing except possibly more wangsting Tron.  9_9

Comments

Tron is about to have company...

[tanks4thememory]

Clu had been doing a bit of exploring in the rugged terrain of the Outlands, going a bit beyond his usual range. That was when he saw the lightjet. It surprised him a bit; not that seeing a lightjet flying over was exactly unusual (for most programs, it was the safest way to explore the Outlands), but its trajectory was unusual. Rather than a broad sweeping pattern as a security program on patrol or somone looking for a newly rerezzed arrival might make, the pilot of this light jet was on a straight, steady, though not especially hurried course to... somewhere. As far a Clu knew, however, there was nowhere out this way to be going to, and that sparked his curiosity. Where was the unknown lightjet pilot headed, and why

EEEEEEEE! \o/

[tronja307020]

The moment he entered the room, stepped foot on the gridded floor around the lift, it lit up bright white, brighter then he was used to seeing, and he recoiled for a moment, shielding his face from the illumination as it burned his eye. His vision adjusted to it quickly, though, and when it no longer hurt to look around the shining room around him, he took a moment simply to take in the sights before he stepped out fully into the room

^_^

[tanks4thememory]

Clu walked around the bare room in which he found himself. Though empty now, faint tire tracks on the floor gave evidence of the room's original purpose as a vehicle storage area. He saw no way, though, to gain access to to the residence that must be above

I've been nothing but slow lately, uuugh. :<

[tronja307020]

The last thing he expected was to hear someone greeting him from behind, and he spun, visibly startled. For a moment, confusion crossed his features as he looked the other up and down, unsettled by the yellow tint of the Program's circuits, and at the same time completely perplexed by the sight of the garments worn by those from the old Encom system, a configuration he hadn't worn himself in so very, very long.

He took a step back, suspicious and curious at the same time, and found his eyes scanning over the facemask that hid his identity from view and distorted his voice at the same time. It was obviously not something of the old systems, but he knew no one on the Grid had dressed like that since it's creation. So this Program had been here, on this Grid, for some time. Enough time to begin adapting to the new way of things. But whether that was a good sign or not - especially given his coloration - was something he couldn't discern as easily

Ok not zen!Flynn but still Flynn :P

[the_gamesmaster]

Flynn was sitting and relaxing on his comfy couch which he coded himself. He often came back to his hideout to relax and catch up with his thoughts. After a busy day coding and riding around on his light cycle studying the Grid code in Sector 5, he deserved a break. He sipped an energy drink from the table and leaned back into his chair. Everything was running smoothly except one thing. Clu. He had been disagreeing a lot with Flynn these days on the plans for the Grid. This and that mainly. It lead Flynn to believe that Clu was getting more distant from his creator everyday. This worried Flynn

Adorkable young!Flynn is just as good! 8D \o/!!!

[tronja307020]

The last thing he possibly expected to see as the lift carried him up to the floor level was a set of feet, a pair of legs wearing what Flynn had always called "jeans," and that familiar old "leather" jacket before his gaze landed on that face. For a moment, his breath caught in his throat. That face now reminded him of Clu. Would always remind him of Clu because of his thousand years of servitude to the degenerate reprogrammer.

But then he saw the white of the circuits, the truth of the identity hitting him like a ton of bricks. He'd never thought that the Flynn he'd heard of would be here. He should have. He knew that now, felt foolish for not thinking it through. His mind had been struggling too much with the knowledge that Flynn - his own Flynn, who had looked quite different then this one - had been derezzed at the Portal. He hadn't been able to comprehend in his grief that this would of course be the most likely place for the User to stay.

In a way, this hurt almost worse then if it had been Clu. At least then he

Re: Hehe thanks. Tron isn't getting away so easily, man :P

[the_gamesmaster]

Flynn saw Tron and let out a huge grin. 'Hey, man. Don't scare me like that will you? I thought you were someone completely different,' he saw the panicked look on the program's face as he wrapped an arm around him and escorted him into the room. 'Don't look so scared, man. It's me, Flynn. You know?,' he looked at Tron and frowned. What was wrong with him? Was that a look to get away back in the lift? Why would he want to get away from Flynn?

'So, what brings you to my comfy abode? Sorry, it's in a bit of a mess at the moment. I've mainly been outside busy working on the Grid,' he tossed an apple core into the bin and plumped the couch cushions. 'Make yourself at home, man. Don't stand on ceremony,' he patted Tron's back and looked at the guy. He looked to tense. Had something happened?

Pfft, Oh, I didn't expect him to...>XD Poor thing, there's no escaping the Flynn hugs!

[tronja307020]

Everything was happening too fast for him, Flynn was already upon him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and pulling him into the room, and he went. He always went, wherever the User wanted, followed him through thick and thin, and even as he felt his chest tightening and clenching painfully

[tronzler]

Someone else was already there, not that he'd have any way of knowing it before he got upstairs to the sanctuary itself.

Tronzler, and he'd even taken to calling himself that now, at least in his head, if not actually aloud, was stretched out on the couch, bruise-purple circuits dimmed in a sleep cycle. His helmet was folded back for once, revealing his still-damaged face, one eye fully functional, the other only partially, overshadowed by dim, damaged pixels along his brow and temple. His helmet was down both because it was more comfortable to rest that way and because he didn't expect company, except perhaps Quorra, sometimes she came all the way out here to find him.

He was there for much the same reason as Tron was, that sense of connection, a few microcycles of peace. The sanctuary, he'd found, was the only place he could sleep without the dreams sneaking in, as if the place was so steeped in the Creator's presence that the very air had a calming effect.

[tronja307020]

It must have been a testament to how completely Tron was lost in his own thoughts, that he didn't initially notice the other's presence as he lay sleeping on the small couch. He spent some time simply moving about the living quarters, looking at the things the User had brought to the Grid, the strange, unusual but beautiful objects he'd decorated his home with. It seemed so special, even without Flynn there, and it was obvious that he had taken such pride in the place. It reminded him of the millicycles Kevin had talked about the day he looked forward to, when he could finally bring his son, and Alan-1, and his wife before she'd died, and a great many other of those he felt so close to, to the Grid

[tronzler]

Tronzler had done much the same thing the first time he'd visited the sanctuary, looked at everything, taken it all in, and ultimately left it alone.

He didn't live there, he had a place back in the city, but he visited, often, especially -as was the case lately- when he was having trouble sleeping.

He'd been aware of the other's presence for a while, probably at least as long as Tron had been studying the bookshelf. He thought about just letting the other program go, retreat like he seemed to want to, but he couldn't. There was that same curiosity there as there was with any of the doubles, though he'd only spoken to one of them before, and briefly.

"Identify, program." He said, twisting around to sit up properly. It wasn't a particularly friendly greeting, but it was far from an unfriendly one, sounding almost puzzled more than anything.

[tronja307020]

He stopped when the voice spoke out to him, still unused to hearing his own voice in such a way, and turned back, giving the other an apologetic if not weary gaze in return.

"Tron. Just Tron." He replied, suspecting that if the other needed clarification on his identity, then it was either to ensure that he was not Rinzler, or that he was. "And you?"

The line of his back was rigid, tense, both out of the worry that he was imposing himself where he wasn't wanted, and for the potential need to act, if this duplicate was still suffering the effects of Clu's reprogramming and lashed out to attack. He had no disks, no, but he wouldn't have wanted to harm him in that eventuality even if he had. He would merely have to make an escape as quickly as possible. At the least, he had his baton on it's holster on his thigh, and could bring up a stave to defend himself if need be.