Who: Troncast and You!
What: You signed up for DEM GAMES. How did you get here? What kind of gear do you have? What the hell is going onnn~ and
why is your butt angry? THAT IS UP TO YOU. Mostly. I...am just a bad advice meme.
Where: "main area" of Zone 7. It was a large open plaza. It is now THE GAME GRID.
When: Through the next week or so! (you
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Comments 233
But there's time for that. And they're making such progress as it is. Rinzler, in particular--the other combatants mow through his guards with an ease that borders on alarming, but they have no idea what to make of his enforcer. No, his champion. The black knight. He was off somewhere right now, taking care of the stragglers.
Rinzler brought him a dragon. An actual dragon, man.
Abraxas had sent him a notification, terse and clipped, with jagged, stuttering laughter. Something about surprises.
Clu couldn't have been more surprised to see Anon if there had been a giant bow stuck to his helmet.]
Well. Greetings. [There was a low, sleek edge to it.] Long time, bro.
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Oh, whatever. It doesn't matter. So long as his master was pleased...
Clu still sounds like Flynn. Even with different speech patterns it's too close, and he falters slightly. But no. Still not Flynn. The SysAdmin of the Grid - and here, he supposed. The one who ultimately brought all this pain to him.
He's not sure if he should thank Clu or throttle him.
But Abraxas wouldn't like the latter and Anon dislikes having the virus's anger turned on him. And the former... not so much his style these days.
He's minus his typical hesitance in speaking, and the undertone of static is still there, if Clu can hear it under the corruption.]
Oh, very. [500 Cycles, by his last reckoning. Anon ( ... )
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