Who: Pocket System Monitor (
traceurmonitor) and his Bestest Virus Pal (
infectthegrid)
What: Anon learns an extremely valuable lesson in why the lone wolf routine doesn't work. Here there be monsters.
Where: Residential Zone 07, presumably around the Grid section.
When: An indeterminate time after Kevin Flynn gets Clu-napped.
Notes: We are dealing with the huge scary virus
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He could however patrol, up high and out of sight. Perhaps even nab someone for himself. Clu had plenty to play with, to throw into the Game Grid. One or two, he would hardly miss. Besides they would all suffer one way or another, what did it matter how the suffering was created. Just as long as they all felt pain. His pain was preferable, but he couldn't be picky. Clu was to be followed for the time being ( ... )
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[Anon is still hoping that there's some way out, even if he's realized that there's no way he's leaving in the same shape he showed up in. He doesn't want to face what's going to happen. He's still fighting, twisting his back and reaching back with one hand to try to shove Abraxas's hand off his disc. He doubts it will work, but it's worth a shot. What else can he do?]
Should know, shouldn't you?
[It burns. He's never hurt so much in all his time. He'd like to just curl up and whimper... but he can't go down like that. Won't.]
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He laughs as the Monitor continues to struggle trying to get his disc back. Grabbing at his wrist and pulling it to get the Monitor to let go. Surrender. He has to be feeling the pain now, how it burns its way through the victim's every being. How sweet death must look.]
I want to hear it.
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He lets go with a short whine when the Virus grabs his wrist and pulls. If he could reach his disc, he'd probably put it into his own throat. Deresolution is the best, only alternative at this point. Without some sample of the virus's coding the antivirus team likely hasn't gotten far, and Anon's last effort was thwarted by Rinzler of all programs. Unfortunately, he doubts that he will be derezzed. He's not stupid enough to think Abraxas would grant him that. Not with their history.]
N-no.
[The silence he was accustomed to is easier to deal with, for him. Makes is easier to not give Abraxas the satisfaction of seeing him broken. Makes it easier to focus, though he's still screaming on the inside.]
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Want your disc back?
[He holds the disc out, yellow cracks and crackles bouncing around it.]
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... until he sees his disc and he kicks and wriggles to scoot back in horror. A short, startled noise escapes the Monitor. Oh User, everything's gone so wrong.]
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