There's a fire burning in my heart

[tronzler]

Who: Tronzler & anyone else who's around
Where: Roof of the Arcade, possibly parts beyond
What: Thinkin'
When: Now. Now is good.
Warnings: Depends on who tags in, will update as necessary.

Comments

That arcade sure is a busy place these days

[tronja307020]

He'd been on patrol in the area around the arcade, passing by it for the fifth time that millicycle, when he caught the faintest flickering of distinctively-colored circuits high atop the building. The one that's between. It might have been a curious thing, finding him there, were it not something so many of them had seemed to be doing lately. Everyone was on edge. Maybe not afraid, but cautious. Suspicious. Worried.

His path altered only slightly, taking him to the alley beside the arcade, where scaling the side was as simple taking a running start up the side and then performing as a series of leaps back and forth between the adjacent building, until he was pulling himself up and over the edge.

"Tron. Or Rinzler?" He remembered from the hideout that this one had trouble remembering himself at times, and called out gently, not wanting to startle him as he approached and knowing as well that, with his repaired face, he might not be easily discernible anymore.

Just a regular party central innit? I blame Quorra.

[tronzler]

"Yes." He replied with a nod, scanning the street below once more before turning to the new arrival, "Mostly Tron. Easiest name to answer to." His head tilted, just slightly, studying the other for a moment, "You look better." Even though the structural damage had been repaired, the energy signature was the same as the one he'd met at the sanctuary a while back, and that was how he tended to identify people first.

"More of us now." A pause then before he amended: "More of him, who we were." A bare shrug, just a narrow, contained little movement, "I'm sure you've noticed."

Busy times, man. Busy times.

[the_gamesmaster]

Flynn headed towards the arcade as he usually did when going back to the User world. He had finished some parameter scans to check the level of damage in certain sectors. There was always work to be done. He spent more time these days in the Grid, trying to build and re-build sections of damaged structure.

He wasn't aware of the dark shape above the sign. Yet, his eyes always got pulled towards the glow of the neon 'Flynn's' sign which reminded him of home. Was that movement up top? Just above the sign. Someone was up there. He frowned and stood directly below the sign, sure someone was up there.

'Hello? Is someone up there?,' he called up, hoping for a reply of some sort.

Indeed

[tronzler]

He was holding still in his vaguely predatory way, settled into a comfortable, easy crouch, head turning, just making an easy back and forth visual sweep of the street below, like a bird of prey watching a field and waiting for a mouse.

He'd tracked Flynn's approach, and had been intent on leaving him alone, at least until Flynn hailed him. He nodded once, "Greetings, Flynn."

Re: Indeed

[the_gamesmaster]

'Tron? Is that you, man?,' he knew the familiar voice from cycles of being in his company. Also, Alan's voice reverberated through his head. Although, Flynn could tell that the purpled circuits indicated Tron and perhaps some Rinzler in there too. But was he more Tron than Rinzler?

'What are you doing all the way up there? Scouting around?,' he smiled to himself. Tron always did search high and low for threats and he was an agile program after all. Skilled in athletics and unafraid of heights. Maybe he was just on patrol above the rooftops? The view would give him the upper hand.

[tronzler]

"Yes." Was the reply to the first question, able to see Flynn easily enough even with the glow of the sign, though he knew it kept him mostly in shadow, "Keeping watch." He replied to the second question after a moment's thought.

[notglitching]

Rinzler had been avoiding the Arcade since Flynn showed up there after Sam's defeat. He had better things to worry about than the recurring presence of unskilled users. (Not that it wasn't worrying. Because it was.)

Sometimes, though, a program needed to get from point 0 to point 1. Possibly point 2 after that, depending. The important part is, Rinzler had a direction. A goal, even. And if this useless structure lay in the way... he wouldn't divert course.

That said, ground level was for squares. Not winners. Rinzler's business wasn't so urgent as to necessitate vehicle transport, and it was worth refamiliarizing himself with these strangely offset (wrong) surroundings. And it wasn't like many other programs tended towards the rooftops.

So when he launched himself over a short wall, fell a story (rolling on impact), leapt up to grab the nearest edge and pull himself over... what he saw made him pause. This was getting disturbingly familiar. Sleek black helmet. Familiar crouch, listening, waiting. And... wait, what exactly was wrong

[tronzler]

He'd tracked the double's movement as soon as he'd caught it out of the corner of his eye, after all, usually he was the only one up here, or at least up at this level, in this area. He knew that Quorra and Anon both tended towards roofs in the more populated areas, but the shape was neither of them.

Another one. He unfolded to his feet as the other approached. He himself was one of the taller ones, not that he'd really paid much attention or drawn a graph or anything. His rumble was more of a cooling-metal ticking these days, but it was still there, "Identify."

[notglitching]

Rinzler's motion paused. Skipped, if only barely perceptibly. There was a moment of disbelief, a wash of surprise (jealousy). He'd known Clu was experimenting with different privileges while copying Rinzler-the one he'd met first didn't seem to have even the most basic read-access for disks. But this...

He didn't need speech. It was an imperfection.

The program resumed his motion towards the duplicate, hunched shoulders and curved spine making his own height ambiguous-though he was fairly certain this copy matched him there. The black mask dipped slightly before rising, angling at the other as the rumble modulated faintly. He's you. Right?

Suddenly, his smaller copy's 'testing' methods began to seem more and more appealing.

[tronzler]

He hadn't needed speech for quite some time, but it had always still been there, just unused except rarely, more now than he had then, of course, but that was beside the point at the moment. Clearly this one was still one of the Rinzlers, which always made him a little dizzy to think about, that there was more than one. Of course, it was always possible that this one had different damage, something that took out the vocal processors.

"As I thought." He said with a nod. He ... well, he wasn't entirely sure what to do with himself now, there wasn't any open hostility, and he certainly wasn't going to start trouble with one of the few programs who could match him.

[disc_warrior]

Lizor was heading back home after his session with the Twins at the Arena. As he tended to do, rather than take a direct route via the Light Ways - he chose instead to walk part of the journey. He chose a rather out of the way route, meandering through the older sectors between Light Way stations. Moving helped him think and release residual tension from the work out

[tronzler]

At some point Tron had settled into his usual crouch of a perch, almost completely still aside from the slow, even, back and forth sweep of his head, visually scanning the street below, even though it was empty. Of course, it wasn't just a visual scan he was running, but also the occasional flicker of a scan as well, just to see if anything bounced back from a program still outside of his visual range.

A ping came back at almost the same time that movement caught his eye. His head swiveled to track the other program as he walked. He unfolded to his feet, head tilting slightly, looking more predatory than he probably meant to. The 'Rogue' status was something that caused his hackles to raise, but it was something he realized was a holdover from Rinzler, it had been his job to track them down and eradicate them, rogue programs were almost always resistance. He was quiet for a few long moments before calling down: "Greetings, program. Identify."

[disc_warrior]

The voice made Lizor halt in mid-step. It definitely made his tension rise - and his combat systems flared up hot out of instinct, ready to access and fight. Not making any sudden moves to reach for his disc (yet) - the disc warrior slowly twisted to look up with a scrutinizing narrow eyed expression

[tronzler]

He knew that name, though it took him a moment or two to register why, "You used to compete." He finally said, he couldn't remember ever having met the other program in the games, and he knew that he'd likely never met him as Rinzler, or they probably wouldn't be having this conversation. Though if he had been the one to derezz Lizor, he'd do his best at making amends.

"Who do you affiliate with now?" It was slightly less personal and slightly more polite than asking whose side he was on, and it was as good a way as any to sort out whether he should keep talking to the other program or not. He knew thanks to the glow of the sign he had a slight advantage, at least for the moment.

[firefixit]

Fire screeched around the corner on her lightcycle. Nothing in front of the Arcade today, but something made her look upwards

[tronzler]

He'd heard the lightcycle coming before he'd seen it, head swiveling smoothly towards the sound, he knew she was going to crash almost before it happened. It wasn't knowing so much as it was prediction by calculation and risk assessment. As such he was already hitting the ground running before her 'cycle even had time to derezz completely, dropping to one knee beside her.

"Don't move." Was the first command, giving her a quick once-over just to make sure there was nothing seriously broken. He was no medic, but he didn't think there were any life-threatening injuries, nothing worse than someone would have after a particularly intense round of Disc Wars, or even a good sparring session. He recognized her, of course, she was an ally, "Do you need a medic?" After all, she was likely to know better than he was the extent of her injuries.

[firefixit]

Fire was just as happy not to move, and lay still while Tron checked her over.

"No . . . I think I'll be okay," she said slowly, carefully moving her injured arm and leg to test for anything more serious than bruising. Her limbs moved stiffly, painfully, but without any hint of real damage. She sat up gingerly, wincing as the movement pulled at her bruises. "Thank you for coming down to check on me." She shook her head slightly. "That was stupid of me. I should have been looking where I was going."

[tronzler]

He nodded once, making sure that there wasn't any worse damage as she moved, ready to just haul her off to a medic himself if he had to, but she seemed alright, and he replied: "That is what most riders learn first." Once upon a time there might have been amusement behind a statement like that, now it was just flat, level, almost matter-of-fact.

"You're an incredibly lucky program." He added, "Any faster, a sharper angle, we wouldn't be having this conversation."