[Gift Fic] Disc Wars
Title: Disc Wars
Fandom: Kingdom Hearts (sort of Tron: Legacy, too, but not really)
Rating: PG-13
Summary: How had it ever come to this?
A/N: Meme request of Leon/Rinzler. 206 words, song was "M for Malice" by Madder Mortem. Sorry for the delay, Tsu.
Some people just weren't disc fighters.
Oh, but when push came to shove, Leon could learn. He was a survivor, after all. Survived so far. Survived this, survived the games, and survived every program fighting for their own future, because he had something their ingenuity didn't. Unpredictability. Movement without constraints to a set program, data constantly writing itself at a pace no other program could keep up with.
But so did Rinzler.
He supposed he should have known that, of course. And trust a program like that to exploit the one weakness he had against the system in the first place. It didn’t matter how innovative Leon could be, or if he smashed the stronger part of his elbow into the front of that helmet in an attempt to put disorienting distance between them. There was still a weakness.
Leon could bleed.
A bone-rattling kick had already left him feeling pretty winded and favoring his ribs, with almost no time to realize that deflecting one disc was well and good, but the other? Left a gash along Leon’s cheek that was definitely going to ache later.
It left him with one thought as Rinzler growled, distorted and angry, with a decidedly sick feeling welling up.
How had it ever come to this?
Fandom: Kingdom Hearts (sort of Tron: Legacy, too, but not really)
Rating: PG-13
Summary: How had it ever come to this?
A/N: Meme request of Leon/Rinzler. 206 words, song was "M for Malice" by Madder Mortem. Sorry for the delay, Tsu.
Some people just weren't disc fighters.
Oh, but when push came to shove, Leon could learn. He was a survivor, after all. Survived so far. Survived this, survived the games, and survived every program fighting for their own future, because he had something their ingenuity didn't. Unpredictability. Movement without constraints to a set program, data constantly writing itself at a pace no other program could keep up with.
But so did Rinzler.
He supposed he should have known that, of course. And trust a program like that to exploit the one weakness he had against the system in the first place. It didn’t matter how innovative Leon could be, or if he smashed the stronger part of his elbow into the front of that helmet in an attempt to put disorienting distance between them. There was still a weakness.
Leon could bleed.
A bone-rattling kick had already left him feeling pretty winded and favoring his ribs, with almost no time to realize that deflecting one disc was well and good, but the other? Left a gash along Leon’s cheek that was definitely going to ache later.
It left him with one thought as Rinzler growled, distorted and angry, with a decidedly sick feeling welling up.
How had it ever come to this?