Tron wasn't sure what drew him back to this place. Perhaps it was the familiarity of it; he'd been here often enough at Clu's side, silent and menacing, set apart from everyone else by the barrier of his helmet. Or perhaps now it was that he could mingle in the crowd without the fear and recognition that the Rinzler persona brought. He often wore a cloak, now, simply to disguise his circuits in case of the odd program noticing him, but it was easy enough to blend in with the crowd, with these programs that he now protected.
Tonight, he spotted an all-too-familiar figure sitting above the crowd. Searching his memory banks for a name, he could not find one, but he knew this program. She had been part of the Games, but had also been here, beside Zues...
Before he could think better of it, he found himself ascending the stairs to stand before her. "I know you."
Gem saw the program walk in. While others didn't seem to take much notice, she did. There was something about him, in the way he walked; it was familiar, yet completely strange to her. It was...curious, a spark in the bore of the day. Perhaps she would get up and speak with him, but before she had a chance to process the possibilities and outcomes of that situation, he approached her
( ... )
Tron allowed his gaze to wander over the program's form... attractive, to be sure. Definitely designed to be distracting, though he would not allow himself to become so. "You were one with the Games," he said after a moment, unwilling to reveal his connection to that just yet. "And I also saw you here, in the company of its former proprietor."
"I was. Am." Gem still worked as a Siren in the Colosseum, but it was different now--it was like the old cycles, when there wasn't deresoultion at the end; the cycles she remembered vaguely with some fondness; things had been deceptively simple back then. "I prepare the programs for the Games. Back then...I ensured they survived as best they could." There was a slight tinge of darkness to her tone. Besides Sam, she could not think of one who had survived Rinzler, if they faced him.
When he mentioned the club, however, she rolled her eyes. "Yes. Castor." A miscalculation on her part. Castor always had to play the angles, and had gotten himself and her derezzed after making the wrong decision. But that was over now. New start for her; new start for all of them.
Smiling slightly, she stepped in a bit closer. "My name is Gem."
Sam stepped into the club, blue eyes scanning the crowd for any of Clu's goons. He relaxed slightly when he realized that the few that were there were too drunk to notice him, so he continued on in and moved to the bar to sit, when he spotted Gem lounging on the other side of the room. Getting himself a drink, Sam stood back up and started making his way over.
"Hey," he said when he got close enough. "Mind if I sit here?"
"You like to take risks don't you, Sam Flynn." Gem kept her voice low for safety, but still there was amusement in her robotic-tinged voice. Sam was always taking chances that others might see as foolish. She just saw him for what he was--a unique user. He was his father's son.
Shifting herself, she gave him room to sit on the couch, moving her hand to a pannel on one of the arms to put up a barrier. "There." Her blue eyes moved over his form, smiling slightly. "And why are you here, Sam?"
Sam slid onto the couch and smirked. "You know it." Yes he definitely was his father's son in that regard. He tried to not be too obvious about checking her out, but was pretty sure he failed.
As Gem put the barrier up, he shrugged in response to her question. "I don't know, I just wanted to sit with a pretty girl?" He smirked at her over his glass as he spoke.
"You like to flatter, Sam." Gem was not immune to compliments, however, and she gave him a rare smile. She did wonder where that annoying ISO of Quorra was, but she wasn't about to bring her up. Troublesome program.
"There are other pretty girls here. Though," She chuckled, "by the nature of my programming, I was made to surpass them all." It was not an attempt at arrogance, a simple stating of fact.
but you won't see it by the light of the suna_perfect_endJanuary 5 2011, 20:43:52 UTC
The End of Line was a core structure, one of those deep, enduring archetypes that reassembled itself no matter how often recompiling was attempted.
Rumor had it that the most recent--reformat--had a few especially interesting consequences.
Clu liked his rumors best substantiated and cataloged, confirmed and in their proper place. So when word reached him--and it did, eventually, even through the haze of blue the Black Guards had been inhaling--that the End of Line was not only operational, but that it was under new management, Siren management. Well.
That warranted confirmation in person. And if the lesser functions were too buzzed on blue to cower back when he stepped into the room, that was fine. They held no interest for him anyway.
"You're looking very put together this evening," he said. "Gem."
Come out, Tigerlily you're caressing mesurvivethesirenJanuary 5 2011, 20:58:51 UTC
Gem's eyes widened when she heard his voice--it was a small diamater, but only that. A roll of the eyes wouldn't be wise, as much as she felt it. That joke was uncalled for--and CLU knew it. Put together, indeed. "You should know by know that I rarely stay off line, CLU." There was a purr to the roboticness in her voice; there was no point in causing trouble, after all. He didn't seem threatening yet, at least
( ... )
I'll take you up, I'll turn you on, I'll take your apathya_perfect_endJanuary 7 2011, 02:16:30 UTC
She didn't blink, no sign of surprise except a slight widening of the eyes.
He nodded, tilted his head, as close as he would come to anything like an apology. It hadn't been personal--an oversight, a consequence of neutralizing Zeus to obtain Flynn's disk. And Gem had always been resourceful program.
Clu had to admit that her new command line suited her. Gem glided down the stairs, hardly seeming to even touch them, and delicately extended a hand.
He met her eyes, that ghost of a trace of a smile, and took her hand User fashion, lips pressed to gloved knuckles and lifted again, just lightly.
"Both," the word curled into a grin, "with a little luck."
I won't lie to you blossom, won't you let it gosurvivethesirenJanuary 7 2011, 02:35:19 UTC
When he 'apologized', her body became just a tad less rigid; for a program such as her, despite her change in programming--there was only so much fluidity she was allowed in situations such as this.
Only in the privacy of her own place did she ever allow herself to step outside of the protection of her stoicism, her posturing. It had saved her for cycles (save her derezzed mistake), and regardless of the changes, it was still not safe to do anything else.
When CLU kissed her hand, she raised an eyebrow, pressing her tongue against her lips. Well wasn't he in a generous mood today? Taking her hand back, she placed it on her hip, her eyes raking over him. Handsome and dangerous. Such was was his programming.
"Then we should get a drink and speak, hmm?" She tilted her head smiling a bit wider. Knowledge, data would always be a commodity--gaining more from him would be advantageous, to be sure.
Ram hadn't visited End of Line for a while. He did know some programs who frequented the place, but wasn't much for this type of recreation himself, preferring more competitive or intellectual pursuits than those commonly found in the club. Tonight he had business here: a meeting with a program who'd claimed to possess information about the whereabouts of a certain missing User. It wasn't a bad place to wait, certainly; most of the programs present seemed to be having fun, many were easy on the eyes, and the music was something special. Claiming a table corner and a tall glass of something greenishly benign, he settled in to soak up the ambiance and wait
( ... )
Gem had seen the handsome program walk in, sit down. Gem had seen him wait. Whomever he was waiting for wasn't coming, by now that was quite clear to her...as well as him. But for some reason, he seemed unsure if he should leave. It was curious, watching him search the crowd, as if someone would be able to help him, to give him an out.
If that was what he wanted, well. Gem was quite good at that.
Standing, Gem picked up her drink, and started to make her way down the steps towards the solitary man. Other programs noticed her walking over (how could they not?), but she kept her eyes soley on Ram. To the outside world, it would simply look like the famous Siren, attempting to gather up another client. It was a good cover for the man, should he need it.
Though with all things, it most likely would come for a price. Gem needed information; perhaps they could trade.
"You looked lonely, program." Smiling, Gem sat down opposite Ram, crossing her legs over one another. "Or perhaps you were simply looking for me."
Ram saw her approach. He could hardly have missed it -- the Siren was magnetic; it was written into her every line. He couldn't have been more surprised when she chose to seat herself opposite him.
Surprised and a little worried. He must've done something wrong -- stood out somehow, if he'd caught the attention of a program like this, and standing out was exactly what he'd wanted not to do. And the thing about the Sirens was that one could never tell what they were processing. If she'd decided he looked suspicious, he'd never know until the guards showed up.
"Um, maybe," he said, tentatively smiling back, trying not to look too flustered. "Maybe I was waiting for you and just didn't know it?" At least, taking the whole thing completely at face value, it was nice of her to be concerned.
Gem smiled, taking a sip of her drink. He was good looking, yes--but it was his self-awareness, the way he looked at her as if he were somehow unworthy of her attention--that truly made her interested.
"Perhaps. After all, you are a lucky program, to have a Siren chose you over others." Gem a tad louder than she needed to, and shifted forward in her seat ever so slightly, to give Ram a better look at her, but also to bring her face closer to his. There was a game that had to be set down first, before she could move onto her true motives. The line was thin, the guards were everywhere. To keep herself safe, and to perhaps help him, she would have to manipulate the situation to her advantage.
Once she was sure there were no fellow programs listening, she lowered her voice, the robotic purr sounding through it. "But you weren't waiting for me, were you. Your fellow Program didn't care to show, did he."
Comments 51
Tonight, he spotted an all-too-familiar figure sitting above the crowd. Searching his memory banks for a name, he could not find one, but he knew this program. She had been part of the Games, but had also been here, beside Zues...
Before he could think better of it, he found himself ascending the stairs to stand before her. "I know you."
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When he mentioned the club, however, she rolled her eyes. "Yes. Castor." A miscalculation on her part. Castor always had to play the angles, and had gotten himself and her derezzed after making the wrong decision. But that was over now. New start for her; new start for all of them.
Smiling slightly, she stepped in a bit closer. "My name is Gem."
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Sam stepped into the club, blue eyes scanning the crowd for any of Clu's goons. He relaxed slightly when he realized that the few that were there were too drunk to notice him, so he continued on in and moved to the bar to sit, when he spotted Gem lounging on the other side of the room. Getting himself a drink, Sam stood back up and started making his way over.
"Hey," he said when he got close enough. "Mind if I sit here?"
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Shifting herself, she gave him room to sit on the couch, moving her hand to a pannel on one of the arms to put up a barrier. "There." Her blue eyes moved over his form, smiling slightly. "And why are you here, Sam?"
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As Gem put the barrier up, he shrugged in response to her question. "I don't know, I just wanted to sit with a pretty girl?" He smirked at her over his glass as he spoke.
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"There are other pretty girls here. Though," She chuckled, "by the nature of my programming, I was made to surpass them all." It was not an attempt at arrogance, a simple stating of fact.
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Rumor had it that the most recent--reformat--had a few especially interesting consequences.
Clu liked his rumors best substantiated and cataloged, confirmed and in their proper place. So when word reached him--and it did, eventually, even through the haze of blue the Black Guards had been inhaling--that the End of Line was not only operational, but that it was under new management, Siren management. Well.
That warranted confirmation in person. And if the lesser functions were too buzzed on blue to cower back when he stepped into the room, that was fine. They held no interest for him anyway.
"You're looking very put together this evening," he said. "Gem."
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He nodded, tilted his head, as close as he would come to anything like an apology. It hadn't been personal--an oversight, a consequence of neutralizing Zeus to obtain Flynn's disk. And Gem had always been resourceful program.
Clu had to admit that her new command line suited her. Gem glided down the stairs, hardly seeming to even touch them, and delicately extended a hand.
He met her eyes, that ghost of a trace of a smile, and took her hand User fashion, lips pressed to gloved knuckles and lifted again, just lightly.
"Both," the word curled into a grin, "with a little luck."
[Heck yeah! Good choice ^_^]
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Only in the privacy of her own place did she ever allow herself to step outside of the protection of her stoicism, her posturing. It had saved her for cycles (save her derezzed mistake), and regardless of the changes, it was still not safe to do anything else.
When CLU kissed her hand, she raised an eyebrow, pressing her tongue against her lips. Well wasn't he in a generous mood today? Taking her hand back, she placed it on her hip, her eyes raking over him. Handsome and dangerous. Such was was his programming.
"Then we should get a drink and speak, hmm?" She tilted her head smiling a bit wider. Knowledge, data would always be a commodity--gaining more from him would be advantageous, to be sure.
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If that was what he wanted, well. Gem was quite good at that.
Standing, Gem picked up her drink, and started to make her way down the steps towards the solitary man. Other programs noticed her walking over (how could they not?), but she kept her eyes soley on Ram. To the outside world, it would simply look like the famous Siren, attempting to gather up another client. It was a good cover for the man, should he need it.
Though with all things, it most likely would come for a price. Gem needed information; perhaps they could trade.
"You looked lonely, program." Smiling, Gem sat down opposite Ram, crossing her legs over one another. "Or perhaps you were simply looking for me."
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Surprised and a little worried. He must've done something wrong -- stood out somehow, if he'd caught the attention of a program like this, and standing out was exactly what he'd wanted not to do. And the thing about the Sirens was that one could never tell what they were processing. If she'd decided he looked suspicious, he'd never know until the guards showed up.
"Um, maybe," he said, tentatively smiling back, trying not to look too flustered. "Maybe I was waiting for you and just didn't know it?" At least, taking the whole thing completely at face value, it was nice of her to be concerned.
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"Perhaps. After all, you are a lucky program, to have a Siren chose you over others." Gem a tad louder than she needed to, and shifted forward in her seat ever so slightly, to give Ram a better look at her, but also to bring her face closer to his. There was a game that had to be set down first, before she could move onto her true motives. The line was thin, the guards were everywhere. To keep herself safe, and to perhaps help him, she would have to manipulate the situation to her advantage.
Once she was sure there were no fellow programs listening, she lowered her voice, the robotic purr sounding through it. "But you weren't waiting for me, were you. Your fellow Program didn't care to show, did he."
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