[action]notglitchingNovember 19 2011, 07:27:44 UTC
[Known haunts are simple enough. After all, for all his surveillance efforts and careful mapping of the city, Rinzler only has one place that's really his.
And he is at the Arena. Not that it's obvious. External lights are at a low ebb of inactivity, entrances sealed and locked. He's not coming out.]
[ Ichigo had already spent most of the day delivering Madsen's pink soap invites, so it's not too troublesome to stop off at the arena. Though, really, he has to crane his neck back, and huff a sigh at the way the place looked dark, and empty. He knew it wasn't, and if Rinzler wasn't here, he'd come "home" eventually.
Just...finding a window isn't really an option, so Ichigo ends up setting his palm against the smooth surfacing, and walks along at ground level, dragging his fingertips along the wall after him. If only he could figure out how to sense things from this grid-place, this would be a lot easier. ]
[action]notglitchingNovember 20 2011, 04:40:50 UTC
[The Grid isn't like the user world. Or any world Ichigo's really been to. It's created, written, code and electricity, not spirits or flesh. Structure is different. Life is different. For a program, sensation's more complete, traced by currents of underlying data, connections of energy and light. Others can't find that, not so easily.
But it does react to users.
As Ichigo's touch trails past a sealed entrance, the panel lights briefly, white hexes of machine code structure scrolling up from the access node. It's brief, quick, cuts off partway through, replaced with a shimmering orange quarantine field across the exterior of the structure, repulsing touch with a prickling shock. Rinzler's well aware of the structure's vulnerabilities-and he's been working on the Arena's passive defenses since the earlier hacking attempt.
And this place is his, now. Well inside the structure, a black mask lifts, mechanical growl skipping for a moment with brief awareness. Rinzler felt that. Hi, Ichigo.]
[ That stung, and Ichigo had to quickly pull his hand back, shaking his fingers with a muttered curse. ]
Oh, so that's how it is, huh? Well screw you, too.
[ Ichigo may not know anything more about code than unlocking the next level on his xbox, but he's nothing if not stubborn. And in this case? Pretty irritated. It helps, though, makes him glare at the lights, and the smooth surfacing. ...Then, just as he had during the week of darkness, he looked up. The arena was open at the top, but he wouldn't put it past Rinzler to have something in place for that, too. Just in case.
No more considering then. Let those automated defenses try to catch him when he's running, literally, up the vertical incline, having to focus, and pull in the ambient reishi in the air to make footing. But fast, and determined to beat those automated defenses before they could seal up this place as surely as Rinzler had sealed himself away from anyone else.
[action]notglitchingNovember 20 2011, 06:09:56 UTC
[Since the structure appeared in Promenade, Rinzler's had more control here, more capability, than he'd ever known in the Grid. It had defaulted to him. Localized admin permissions. Sensation, access, a level of connection that he'd had to learn what to do with. Rinzler's good at learning. But there's been one issue he's been unable to get past, one aspect that severely limits what he's been able to accomplish.
Rinzler's not an admin. And structural or personal, he utterly lacks rewrite privileges.
So there's little his adjustments can do to block the unconventional approach. Encryptions at the doors are boosted, response times shortened, and the quarantine field does stay up across the whole of the exterior. But Ichigo isn't using the doors. And while the edged crackle of electricity beneath the user's steps is anything but pleasant, the user's forcing up, not inwards. The field can't halt the motion. At the top, there's no field. A sputtering flare of color does light the edges as proximity, motion is detected. Rinzler's been
( ... )
[ Ichigo can actually see that strange, orange-ish light building on itself as he sprints up the wall, and he definitely feels it, even through the soles of his waraji, like trying to run in a straight line along a live copper wire, but gritting his teeth, and focusing on the next step make a difference, and within a handful of seconds, he's launching off the top rampart. Sailing through the air in a controlled fall, complete with smaller pushes of reishi to slow his momentum, and then hitting the floor of the arena flat-footed to skid; one hand even slapping against said floor as he crouches and forces himself to a halt. The feeling of electrical shock is also bringing up some unpleasant associations, but where many would avoid it, Ichigo is the sort to rush toward the danger, and the pain, because it was what stood between him, and his goal
( ... )
[action]notglitchingNovember 21 2011, 12:54:40 UTC
[The words come clear enough, echo through structure and code. Rinzler knows the user's there. He doesn't care. Doesn't want it.
But that never, ever makes a difference.
Noise skips, an angry edge breaking through in a low snarl. The mask glares upward, an orange-lined fist tightens-then jerks to the side. Rinzler's half-clenched hand slams into an access panel, jolting a trigger that runs erratic, unsteady, only half-complete. No transport units rise, no platforms form above from shifting code. But the ground of the arena floor? Does melt away
( ... )
[ Ichigo was actually in the process of opening his mouth to yell again when the FREAKING FLOOR MELTED. ]
UWAH!
[ Reflex alone saves him from breaking his neck down that long fall, just by dragging reishi around him to make sure his momentum was slowed here, and there. It's not much, though, so when he finally did hit bottom it was first in an awkward crouch, then sprawling in an ungainly heap on his butt. ]
...Okay, ow. Some warning would have been nice.
[ But, there's Rinzler, and that's all Ichigo had been hoping for. The guy looked about as tense as a coiled spring, but short of token complaints, Ichigo wasn't really fussing that much. Instead he picked himself up off the floor, dusted his pants off, and started to walk towards the ( growling? ) program. Slow, mind you, and leaving lots of room for personal space. ]
Oi. You can be pissed off at me for breaking into your place, but I'll go soon, okay? I just...I needed to talk to you.
[action]notglitchingNovember 22 2011, 02:44:48 UTC
[Rinzler just stares at the complaint. Given Ichigo just managed the massive drop from the arena's outer walls, Rinzler hadn't really counted this a risk.
And admittedly, he hadn't been in a mood to ask.
The tension doesn't increase as Ichigo steps slowly closer, but whether that's a sign of acceptance is difficult to say. It's possible Rinzler simply can't manage to be more on edge. The helmet tips to follow his approach, fist lowering from the active panel, though it stays half clenched at Rinzler's side.
The program waits. Noise still sharp, still edged-growl is by far the best description.
[ Ichigo lets out a long sigh, hands dropping back to his sides. He hadn't expected much better, but it was still frustrating. And Ichigo didn't do well with "frustrating". ]
Look. I understand now. Not all of it, I know that, but I get why you don't want to talk. I get why you...why you like to fight.
[ He's still got his sword strapped to his back, the same as any other day, but Ichigo isn't wanting to use Zangetsu for once. Plus, he had the feeling that getting into a fight with Rinzler would be a lot like taking one step forward, and two steps back. ]
But I...I guess I just wanted you to know that you're still you. To me, anyway. Everybody was different when they were younger, why shouldn't you be, too.
...And...and I'm not going to force you to be something you don't want to be.
[action]notglitchingNovember 23 2011, 00:59:16 UTC
[Rinzler listens. The tension doesn't fade. The program stands fixed, doesn't back down, doesn't move closer. But he's not static, either.
No. The helmet twitches sideways, head shaking in minute, jerky motions. Ichigo doesn't understand. The qualifier slips in a moment later, changes input from false to true, but the refusal lingers, skips unsteady through his processing. Rinzler doesn't understand (lie)-shouldn't understand. It doesn't matter.
(Lie.)
'...you're still you.' Ichigo had said that before. Also: 'who are you?' Also: 'who do you want to be?' The program's still not sure why that's important.
An orange-lined hand twitches slightly as Ichigo finishes. Rinzler's stands, noise still ticking out with quiet frustration, form still drawn in. Still tense. (Brittle). He manages a nod.]
[ The silence stretches, only punctuated by Rinzler's low growl, and presently, Ichigo's quieter sigh. Taking a moment to look around at this lower part of the Arena, he tucks his hands into the slits in the sides of his hakama like "pockets". ]
I actually came to tell you the date has been set for Fight Club.
[ Removing one hand from a pocket to rummage in the fold of his kosode, he pulls out the bar of pinks soap Madsen had given him, and hold it up to show Rinzler. Then flipped it over to show the shallow carving in the back displaying a day, and time. ]
I don't know how much you know about this place, but this isn't the first time it's screwed with our collective memories.
[ At least this time it wasn't ten years worth of false memories being implanted to make the population forget about their homes, and families. ]
...Anyway, we're not letting it stop us. So, I kind of need to know if you're still up for letting us use your place, here.
So have an open connection, Ichigo. Just. With nothing sent. He's around. Alive. And that's about all there is to say.]
Reply
Damnitt, don't get weird on me. Either tell me where you are, or start talking.
Reply
Rinzler responds with a short ping, a redirected link back to Ichigo's own message. The unencrypted part, specifically.
He. Doesn't. Talk.]
Reply
Fine. You can pull the silent treatment again.
[ And he'll start looking the old fashioned way; check known haunts first, and start asking people on the street.
Click! Disconnect. ]
Reply
And he is at the Arena. Not that it's obvious. External lights are at a low ebb of inactivity, entrances sealed and locked. He's not coming out.]
Reply
Though, really, he has to crane his neck back, and huff a sigh at the way the place looked dark, and empty. He knew it wasn't, and if Rinzler wasn't here, he'd come "home" eventually.
Just...finding a window isn't really an option, so Ichigo ends up setting his palm against the smooth surfacing, and walks along at ground level, dragging his fingertips along the wall after him. If only he could figure out how to sense things from this grid-place, this would be a lot easier. ]
Reply
But it does react to users.
As Ichigo's touch trails past a sealed entrance, the panel lights briefly, white hexes of machine code structure scrolling up from the access node. It's brief, quick, cuts off partway through, replaced with a shimmering orange quarantine field across the exterior of the structure, repulsing touch with a prickling shock. Rinzler's well aware of the structure's vulnerabilities-and he's been working on the Arena's passive defenses since the earlier hacking attempt.
And this place is his, now. Well inside the structure, a black mask lifts, mechanical growl skipping for a moment with brief awareness. Rinzler felt that. Hi, Ichigo.]
Reply
Oh, so that's how it is, huh? Well screw you, too.
[ Ichigo may not know anything more about code than unlocking the next level on his xbox, but he's nothing if not stubborn. And in this case? Pretty irritated. It helps, though, makes him glare at the lights, and the smooth surfacing.
...Then, just as he had during the week of darkness, he looked up. The arena was open at the top, but he wouldn't put it past Rinzler to have something in place for that, too. Just in case.
No more considering then. Let those automated defenses try to catch him when he's running, literally, up the vertical incline, having to focus, and pull in the ambient reishi in the air to make footing. But fast, and determined to beat those automated defenses before they could seal up this place as surely as Rinzler had sealed himself away from anyone else.
Catch him if you can, program. ]
Reply
Rinzler's not an admin. And structural or personal, he utterly lacks rewrite privileges.
So there's little his adjustments can do to block the unconventional approach. Encryptions at the doors are boosted, response times shortened, and the quarantine field does stay up across the whole of the exterior. But Ichigo isn't using the doors. And while the edged crackle of electricity beneath the user's steps is anything but pleasant, the user's forcing up, not inwards. The field can't halt the motion. At the top, there's no field. A sputtering flare of color does light the edges as proximity, motion is detected. Rinzler's been ( ... )
Reply
Reply
But that never, ever makes a difference.
Noise skips, an angry edge breaking through in a low snarl. The mask glares upward, an orange-lined fist tightens-then jerks to the side. Rinzler's half-clenched hand slams into an access panel, jolting a trigger that runs erratic, unsteady, only half-complete. No transport units rise, no platforms form above from shifting code. But the ground of the arena floor? Does melt away ( ... )
Reply
UWAH!
[ Reflex alone saves him from breaking his neck down that long fall, just by dragging reishi around him to make sure his momentum was slowed here, and there. It's not much, though, so when he finally did hit bottom it was first in an awkward crouch, then sprawling in an ungainly heap on his butt. ]
...Okay, ow. Some warning would have been nice.
[ But, there's Rinzler, and that's all Ichigo had been hoping for. The guy looked about as tense as a coiled spring, but short of token complaints, Ichigo wasn't really fussing that much. Instead he picked himself up off the floor, dusted his pants off, and started to walk towards the ( growling? ) program. Slow, mind you, and leaving lots of room for personal space. ]
Oi. You can be pissed off at me for breaking into your place, but I'll go soon, okay? I just...I needed to talk to you.
Reply
And admittedly, he hadn't been in a mood to ask.
The tension doesn't increase as Ichigo steps slowly closer, but whether that's a sign of acceptance is difficult to say. It's possible Rinzler simply can't manage to be more on edge. The helmet tips to follow his approach, fist lowering from the active panel, though it stays half clenched at Rinzler's side.
The program waits. Noise still sharp, still edged-growl is by far the best description.
He doesn't have anything to say.]
Reply
And Ichigo didn't do well with "frustrating". ]
Look. I understand now. Not all of it, I know that, but I get why you don't want to talk.
I get why you...why you like to fight.
[ He's still got his sword strapped to his back, the same as any other day, but Ichigo isn't wanting to use Zangetsu for once. Plus, he had the feeling that getting into a fight with Rinzler would be a lot like taking one step forward, and two steps back. ]
But I...I guess I just wanted you to know that you're still you. To me, anyway. Everybody was different when they were younger, why shouldn't you be, too.
...And...and I'm not going to force you to be something you don't want to be.
Reply
No. The helmet twitches sideways, head shaking in minute, jerky motions. Ichigo doesn't understand. The qualifier slips in a moment later, changes input from false to true, but the refusal lingers, skips unsteady through his processing. Rinzler doesn't understand (lie)-shouldn't understand. It doesn't matter.
(Lie.)
'...you're still you.' Ichigo had said that before. Also: 'who are you?' Also: 'who do you want to be?' The program's still not sure why that's important.
An orange-lined hand twitches slightly as Ichigo finishes. Rinzler's stands, noise still ticking out with quiet frustration, form still drawn in. Still tense. (Brittle). He manages a nod.]
Reply
Taking a moment to look around at this lower part of the Arena, he tucks his hands into the slits in the sides of his hakama like "pockets". ]
I actually came to tell you the date has been set for Fight Club.
[ Removing one hand from a pocket to rummage in the fold of his kosode, he pulls out the bar of pinks soap Madsen had given him, and hold it up to show Rinzler. Then flipped it over to show the shallow carving in the back displaying a day, and time. ]
I don't know how much you know about this place, but this isn't the first time it's screwed with our collective memories.
[ At least this time it wasn't ten years worth of false memories being implanted to make the population forget about their homes, and families. ]
...Anyway, we're not letting it stop us. So, I kind of need to know if you're still up for letting us use your place, here.
Reply
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