The past is so familiar

[solarnaut]

Who: New Yori and whoever comes along
When: Now
Where: Just underneath/in the End of Line
What: Another Yori rezzes into the system . . . this time, one who didn't survive Clu's reign.
Warnings: None so far.

Comments

[stillpurring]

Rinz could hardly remember the last time he'd visited the club. He had no love for Castor or for the place itself, perhaps merely because of the memories it invoked, but it was the best place in the Grid for something stronger than the typical energy.

He'd avoided the other programs mostly, finding himself a spot in the corner of the room and holing up with a drink or two. The club was quieter than usual as it was a typical downcycle period for most programs. He sat in his corner, sulking and thinking, musing over his drink and rubbing occasionally at his scar. It was aching today, for reasons he couldn't quite comprehend.

All his calculations slowed to a shuddering halt as a new program entered, dark eyes swiveling immediately from his drink to take her in.

She was new.

Was there a chance that she...

[solarnaut]

The End of Line was busier than she'd remembered it being in many cycles. Perhaps that was why Yori, no closer to her answers, was three-quarters of the way through her drink before she spotted Rinzler

[stillpurring]

Glitch.

He'd been worried that he might startle her, but such a reaction was more than he was expecting. Somewhere Rinz had been hoping that his helmetless-ness would have encouraged her, but apparently not.

He didn't want to frighten her, but nor did he want to lose this chance to talk to her. Abandoning his drink, he immediately got up to follow her.

She was lost and confused. And he was sure that it was probably a typical reaction for any Yori to be frightened of a Rinzler. But after his discussion with the other Yori about her, he just couldn't take the chance of factoring his Yori out.

"Yorrrrri," he called quietly. Hopefully he sounded more like Tron. Either way, Rinzler didn't usually speak, so...maybe it would help a bit?

[solarnaut]

At the sound of her name, Yori stopped, an arm's length from the elevator doors. This freezing thing was getting to be a bad habit.

He knows my name. How . . . does he even remember? He spoke? He almost never speaks. And he wasn't wearing a helmet. What's going on?

Thoughts churning, hoping that she wasn't about to make the biggest mistake of her runtime, Yori turned around. The tension thrumming through her was visible in her awkward movements, but she still raised her head to look up at him.

"Rinzler."

[OOC: *headdesk* Just went back and saw that the EoL was quiet from Rinz's perspective. I'll blame it on posting when I hadn't woken up and say that while it's quiet by Rinz's standards, the last time Yori was in there it was mostly empty.]

[yorisearching]

Yori did not even remotely trust Castor, but she did occasionally visit the End of Line. Not for long, and visiting wasn't her only source of information, but the club owner was definitely up to something and if there had ever been enough time Yori might have managed to track down what it was.

But she was only walking by when she saw the other program. Hair as blonde as her own, the same length; a face more familiar than any but Tron's. Grid-style armor, not straight from Encom, not User clothing. She knew the expression for not-showing-confusion and what it hid.

It could have been another of Lora's programs, but probability strongly favored a shared name. "Yori," she called, low and urgent. "Don't go in there yet."

She was definitely not having this conversation where Castor could take advantage of it.

[solarnaut]

Yori turned, incredulous, at the oh-so-familiar voice. It was . . . her. Only not quite her, she saw, as her eyes took in the differences. Their circuitry was different, the patterns one of those she'd considered before opting for her current look. The look in her eyes . . . Yori recognized that, as well, though it wasn't one she'd worn too often. There had been too much to do in the Resistance to worry about things she couldn't change. As in the MCP's server, she'd kept her head down and let work overtake her . . . the only difference was that her work had been to actively resist.

"Yori?" she said aloud. Was this an updated version, perhaps? But, with the User safe in the Outlands, when would he have found the time to get hold of her code and update her?

[yorisearching]

Acknowledging the name with a wry smile, Yori tilted her head toward the quieter alleys. "It's a long story, and some of it is even good news. But the club has a lot of ears." Castor was risky by himself, and any version of Clu likely to try something would know enough to begin gathering information there as well. Not to mention the risk of running into someone before things were properly explained

[solarnaut]

Yori nodded wryly when her twin mentioned that the club had many ears. It was part of the reason why she'd stayed away for decacycles before this. If she hadn't been so depleted now, she'd have tried going elsewhere.

Yori eyed the local alleys, selecting one that was too wide for a single program to block and that was open at both ends. She gestured, slightly shakily, for the other Yori to precede her, the caution ingrained from heptocycles of working with the Resistance. "Right now, a lack of bad news would be good news."

[alan1_tron]

Tron decided to give himself some free time by visiting the End of Line. He rarely visited just out of going to relax. Being who and what he did, relaxing wasn't really something he did a lot. He had been feeling rather drained of energy the last few millicycles so a drink couldn't do any harm, right?

He was watching programs milling about, talking and drinking when he saw her. He recognised the face immediately. Yori. He frowned as he tried to gage her expression. Getting up from his position, he made his way over to her, through the crowds.

"Yori?"

Let me know if this is/is not okay to tag o/?

[threat_detected]

The End of Line club was as good a place as any to go looking for answers. But this newly rezzed Yori may, or may not notice the ghostly, geometric lines creeping ever so slowly through high traffic area's circuitry

sickly, yellow corruption was flowing just beneath the sleek, polished surface.
It was faint. hardly noticeable. But there, nonetheless.

And that corruption was quietly starting to surround the elevator shaft as well.

It's definitely okay! Will tag in with Yori's permissions soon

[solarnaut]

Yori hadn't noticed the taint of yellow in the street, too exhausted to pay hi-res attention to the ground under her feet. When she came face to face with the elevator, however, something flickered in the corner of her eye. Something yellow.

Yori spun, hand going to her disc. Nothing good ever came of yellow, especially of this kind. But, to her surprise, there was no sign of Clu. Only the . . .

. . . walls around the elevator.

That couldn't be good.

\o/!

[threat_detected]

No, yellow never seems to bode well. But, unlike a certain others with yellow circuits, it's not the tromp of boot heels that are coming for Yori now. No, everything is quiet.

...Very quiet.

Even the occasional crackle of the infection spreading at the base of the elevator shaft just seemed to highlight how eerily silent the street had become. But the elevator doors pinged open all the same, a monotone bell informing programs the lift was open.

And inside? More of those cracked, and corrupted yellow circuits were spreading from the boot heels of a hooded shape. Calmly, with face hidden by mask, and his deep hood both, Abraxas kept his hands clasped loosely in front of him, as though he were nothing other than a patron waiting for the lift as well. His voice, though, was a mocking growl, echoing oddly in on itself as the hiss of spreading corruption climbed the transparency of the elevator doors.

"Going up~?"

[solarnaut]

Yori staggered back a few steps, eyes wide in shock. How could Abraxas be here? She might have been away handling Solar Sailer transports when the corrupted former ISO had been loosed on the Grid, but she knew the stories. She'd seen the records, those few that had survived. She was certain that he'd been derezzed hundreds of cycles ago.

"Not any more," she replied firmly, only now noticing the pale blur of yellow on the ground under her feet. The virus tendrils crackling around the elevator grew as she watched, and she backed away slowly. She was torn between not turning her back on the main threat, and knowing that she could back into corrupted ground any moment now.

[creator_man]

Flynn hadn't been to the actual club; not since that time when he'd needed to get Sam and Quorra out of it; but he passed by the building on occasion. It needed little care from him, or at least nobody had told him it was needed, but there was plenty to be learned, from one of the tallest structures in the city.

The familiar blond hair caught his eye, and with the faded circuits, he suspected this was Yori - and not the Yori who'd been in this system for a longer time than him.

"Greetings," he called out. "And if you're recently arrived, welcome."

[solarnaut]

Yori turned, startled at the unpleasantly familiar voice. And then she paused. That wasn't Clu.

"Flynn?" she whispered. "Why are you here? It isn't safe for you, you know that! Clu will be here as soon as he knows you're in the city. You have to go."

[creator_man]

There was a brief look of sadness in Flynn's eyes at the distress on her face as she turned; and then the worry...

He shook his head.

"Things have changed. Clu is no longer in power, the Portal is open - a bit more so than I ever imagined it could be. But I'm all right. And whatever the last thing that happened to you was, so are you."

[solarnaut]

Yori stopped, blinked and tried to corellate the information. All she came up with was does not compute.

Thanks to long experience, it came out in User. "I don't understand, Flynn."