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

[namesram]

Naught crawled away from the Recognizer on her hands and knees, pain screaming through all her functions. Her circuits pulsed sluggishly as she half-turned, getting a better the corrupted, crippled vehicle and its swath of destruction.

I did that.

It was the biggest set of errors she'd ever caused. It was rad.

Abraxas would have been pleased.
But why did it hurt......?She'd managed to hide the more obvious aspects of her infection well enough to fool the pilot, but the impact had accelerated the process. Sickly yellow-and-black veins inched down over her skin. The remote possibility that she might have enough energy left to infect part of the maze as well was nixed as her arm gave out beneath her. Collapsing to one side with a squeak of surprise, she toppled over a broken edge and out of sight into the jagged rubble

[notglitching]

The program didn't move. Stayed rigid, locked, frozen. Rinzler's noise still skipped out into the stillness, but it was ragged, uneven, sparse. More quiet breaths of harsh static than an unbroken rumble.

(Yori)

He'd attacked-

no (Redirect-)

She was-she had been...

Of course she was.

The helmet dipped, just slightly, and a wrench tore through his systems, shivered out in the smallest tremor through code and shell, and he wanted to break, short, keen. But there was no voice (never a voice), no words, no sound but the perpetual stutter. And Rinzler could strain and glitch and wreck his processes for nanos or millis or cycles (and cycles and cycles). But he wouldn't break.

He was made. To be perfect.

'Try not to crash'

Lockup shattered as a red-lit jet screamed past, and he was moving, shifting, rolling aside. Visuals caught a glimpse of the pilot, mapped curly hair, incongruous blue circuits dropping out of sight, and another twist dug through his code. Jarring, edged-internal and external, a tangled swarm of correction and

[yorisearching]

The heavier roar of the lightjet's near miss made Yori gasp, renewed terror all round. Glitch it, what was Ram thinking? Startling Rinzler with new angles of threat was no good way to keep his current object of focus safe, and if Ram got too close...Users, Ram. Stay back.

Yori pushed herself up from the rough rock, cold under her palms, her knee. She didn't venture to stand. Her head was a dizzy ache that almost matched her heart.

And then Rinzler's disk lit, sharp hum reinforcing the bite of terror if she'd needed it. His posture wasn't right for attack, not yet. Defensive, on guard, desperate. Trapped. Yori's code twisted in painful sympathy.

It surprised her that Rinzler was still here--she'd never known him not to carry an extra lightjet. Perhaps it had taken damage in his crash, or some earlier battle, and he hadn't yet replaced it. Perhaps habits simply differed

[namesram]

Ram's original plan had involved flying a lot nearer than he'd ended up doing; the backup plan, as much as there could have been any in this terrain and with this limited set of variables, was designed to take him out of the picture again as far as Rinzler was concerned, without getting far enough away to be able to intervene if needed. Huddled against the rock, he wasn't sure if Yori could see him from her angle on the ground, but gave her a feeble thumbs-up so she wouldn't have to factor any new worries into her calculations.

It had worked, anyway. Rinzler was away from Yori, and though his discs were lit now, there was less of a chance for an accidental slip.

And he was still fighting.

He could have derezzed Yori so easily. Probably could have taken Ram out of the sky with a quick throw even as he'd passed. Rinzler would have had no reason not to

[notglitching]

Threats and tactics and the desperate hum of potential swarmed through Rinzler's processing, ran quick and hot down to the burning orange disk (his disk). Two in sight (her, her), the second-injured? (known). He could fight them-couldn't-had to-but there were others, threats, users. He had to run, had to get clear, get away, but movement lagged (weak) and the world crackled with error and malfunction and he. Couldn't. Process.

'Rinzler.'

She knew him. That was right. She knew him, she knew him. Eyes fixed, voice tight and clear with just the faintest catch. It cut through the space, cut through the stillness. (Cut through everything.) A promise. An offer. She reached out.

'You're free'

Rinzler's hand clenched on the white-edged disk with painful force, fingers curling in, pressing tight and useless against the rigid inner curve of orange light. His gaze twitched up, back-the other program leaned unsteadily against the rock, no weapon or clear threat. Watching, staring, eyes pained or painfully desperate, and for a moment, he knew

[yorisearching]

The weight of the baton and of tension dragged her hand down as Rinzler turned, her fingers tightening on the cylinder. His limp hurt to watch, the worse because Rinzler would never have shown that if he could help it. But there had been no major code damage. None new. He wouldn't need assistance for that, only plentiful energy and peace. Neither of which Yori could give him, no matter how desperately she wanted to

[namesram]

Ram watched unblinking as Rinzler's helmet turned toward him, the slight headshake warning and recognition, demand and farewell all at once. Then Rinzler turned toward the cliff -- his pained gait a new agony -- and the little program had to clutch the stone tightly to keep himself from moving. Rinzler wouldn't let anyone help him now.

He did shift away from the rocks as the bright spark of the lightjet rose out of sight. Already steadier -- the few moments' rest had helped a lot -- he took a few hesitant steps toward Yori.

"Fine," he said, and then had to repeat the word when it didn't quite come out. "'m fine. Good to go. What--"

What about you... but he already knew the answer to that. Unless Rinzler had done any actual damage when he'd landed on her, she was probably as fine as Ram was: not really, not at all, but enough to keep moving. And she hadn't taken off after Rinzler, so he wasn't in immediate danger either.

His jaw worked silently, and he took a breath. "What do we need to do?"

[yorisearching]

Her legs felt...about like someone had been foolhardy enough to jump out of a lightjet onto uneven Outland rock. Yori tested whether they'd hold her, and slowly stood. Ram didn't look hurt, at least.

That we. She wasn't sure she could plan even for herself right now. "I'm going to find Rinzler's lightjet baton." If it had survived the crash at all. Shooting at him would have done less damage. She should have known better. Users, she had known better