and if you told me I was perfect

[runsinpacks]

Who: Wulf (runsinpacks) and anyone!
Where: a tower ramp in Sector 239
What: It's a time of miracles, but Wulf, deep down, can't convince himself they're here to stay.
Warnings: existentialism? I promise he'll cheer up as soon as I make him more smiley icons soon.~

Comments

[creator_man]

While the current mapping of the City, especially as updated by Anon, was very good, there was still legwork for Flynn to do. Less on the City itself, and more on the best spots for observation so the most area possible would be covered.

Tall towers were definitely the list of places to at least try.

When he climbed to the top of this one, he saw the shape outlined against the horizon, noticed the pose, and decided to call out, rather than startle the... program, by the looks of it.

"Greetings," he said as he walked closer. "You seem to be... little pleased by sight, this millicycle." It was a neutral conversation opener... ish.

[runsinpacks]

The voice was at first an unwelcome surprise -- Wulf hadn't anticipated an interruption. He glanced around, blinked, and straightened up in surprise and respect.

Flynn. Even if he hadn't seen reports of what the User looked like now, he thought he might have been able to tell. There was something about Flynn, even when he wasn't exerting the powers that were still so mysterious to most programs.

Except for a brief upgrade on import, Wulf had never actually met the User. Never in person. Not like this. He almost stammered, nervous and unsure without the security of the I/O rituals.

"Greetings... User Flynn." (Users, was that even the right reply?) "I wasn't, it's not the view, I was just... calculating." Now that he thought about it, the excuse seemed inadequate to the undeniable fact that he hadn't been properly appreciating the world Flynn had built for them all. But what else could he say and still be truthful?

[creator_man]

"Just Flynn's fine," he murmured, leaning against the railing beside the program and looking at him more clearly for the first time.

Ah. He remembered - less clearly than he'd like to, but still - the young man who'd written this one. Roy's younger brother, unless he was mistaken. Good work, he had been doing.

At the excuse... explanation, he shrugged slightly. "There's nothing wrong with being out of sorts now and again, man. Not like there hasn't been plenty to overclock anyone's processes." Which was true.

And then again, "is something in particular bothering you?"

[runsinpacks]

Flynn wasn't mistaken. Up close, the resemblance was even more pronounced, save for the extra inches that put him nearly eye-to-eye with the lanky program. They were different, though, as Roy and his brother had been different; where Ram sought out the fun in everything and cheerfully planned for the future, Wulf kept getting stuck on whether the present was good enough to pass inspection.

"Thanks," he murmured. "I'm Wulf." Which he figured Flynn already knew, but it wouldn't hurt to be polite.

He folded his arms on the rail again, looking back at Flynn and trying not to stare. It wasn't something he would have admitted to anyone else, but if he couldn't trust a User, he'd really be lost. "..Yes," he admitted. "Something I... could have done. I'm -- I'm not the way my User wrote me anymore."

[lil_bro_lost]

Eric meant to just come down for a bit, get a look around the place, maybe check on the Sea and give a report back to Quorra. But this wasn't the place he had left after that terrifying, exhilarating night when they had told him what really happened, what was really going on. This was... similar. But not the same.

So, he decided to explore. Because that was what he did when he was introduced to a new system. He explored. And poked. And prodded.

At first he thought he was looking in a mirror, except he wasn't dressed like that. He was dressed like he usually did when at work, business casual, nothing ... glowing. And he wasn't standing at that angle. And it took him a while of just standing and staring before it even dawned on him what this might be.

[runsinpacks]

Lost in his own calculations, Wulf took longer than usual to realize that he was being watched. Longer than usual to notice that there was something drawing at his directives, something more than the need to get to work or to assist a program who needed him. A restlessness -- a call -- something he hadn't experienced in so many cycles that the tags were too degraded to identify. Something that grew steadily until it could no longer be ignored.

Pushing back from the rail with a discomfited sigh, he turned toward the ramp that led back down to the transport area. The person (the User!) standing there, backlit by most of Sector 240, was impossible to miss, his stance and figure almost as familiar as Wulf's own.

The program took a few unsteady steps, then stopped, having a hard time managing the processing demands of both walking and staring. It was a good thing he had met Flynn earlier, or this might have frozen him up entirely.

"Rogue Leader?" It was a whisper of disbelief.

[lil_bro_lost]

Eric blinked. It wasn't that he didn't recognize his own username, Roy called him that sometimes just out of teasing. So did some of his co-workers. He wasn't used to it being spoken with such reverence, though.

Realization cascaded on top of realization. This person was calling him by his username. Or, as Flynn had explained it, his User name. Flynn had talked about the programs resembling their Users most of all, certain programs at least, the ones they had really put their heart and soul into. Which meant this could only be one ... person. Program. That he'd given off to work with, sent out into the world, not long ago. Or so he thought.

He still couldn't believe he was standing here, staring at and about to be talking to a program.

"Ye-es..." Shouldn't he have something more majestic to say? Not really, maybe. Oh, wait. "Greetings, program?"

[runsinpacks]

"Greetings," Wulf faltered, a faint, shocked smile creeping over his face. He took another step, and then several more before he could think better of it, ending up not quite within arm's length of the man.

There was no doubt Rouge Leader was who he seemed to be. He wasn't dressed like a program, he didn't feel like a program, and there was that sense of quiet familiarity that Wulf was now able to connect to his long talks with his User during compilation so long ago.

"You shouldn't be here. I mean--" no, that wasn't what he'd meant -- "what are you doing here?" How, at least, was simple, with the Portal going haywire like this. But he had to focus. His User -- my User, Rogue Leader, how is he here -- hadn't written him to freeze up at the first sign of trouble. "Are you looking for someone?"