Stepping Stones Ch.9
Title: Stepping Stones
Rating: M
Universe: Tron
Pairing: MCP/Sark
Word Count: 438
One more chapter to go after this, they'll be much shorter than the last two.
Sark felt time begin to quicken, or at least what he perceived as time began to quicken. Things became more routine, more familiar with every passing cycle. The more often he repeated a certain action or order, the faster it was executed. He began to predict or expect a certain outcome every time, and became disappointed or angry when it did not occur. This was natural though, to be given something repeatedly then having it suddenly vanish was always disappointing.
The MCP would give him his orders, and he would comply. If he failed, there would be disciplining. If he succeeded, there would be praise. If he succeeded exceptionally, there would be a reward.
These rewards left Sark leaning against the console of his podium - surrounded by blue and white and slowly regaining energy. The MCP never rewarded him as well as he had that first time, but Sark was content with what he received none the less. It wasn't so much the feeling, it was the attention. He - of all the programs that served the MCP - was getting this special attention.
This attention and superiority did not stop the Commander from getting his hands dirty. He was more than eager to quell any additional uprisings, as well as terrify his opponents in the Game arena. Unfortunately though it began to lessen in entertainment. The best warriors had been defeated, most by him, some by his lieutenants. All that's left for him to battle are accountants and actuaries, business programs with no ferocity - no drive. It doesn't take away from the fun of derezzing a program - by sending his disk flying through their bodies or by causing them to crash in to their own light wall on the race track. What it does take away is the sense of satisfaction at the end.
But still, Sark was never one to complain - especially now in such vibrant times. The Grid was organized, it was under control, it was safe. The MCP would take care of any and all threats, and Sark was to be his right hand. This made the Commander beam with prime and brim to the edges with excellence.
Everything was as it should be.
And the next chapter is the last, and is going to be equally as short. Sorry if the length is disappointing, but if I write too much I get in over my head and never finish at all.
Rating: M
Universe: Tron
Pairing: MCP/Sark
Word Count: 438
One more chapter to go after this, they'll be much shorter than the last two.
Sark felt time begin to quicken, or at least what he perceived as time began to quicken. Things became more routine, more familiar with every passing cycle. The more often he repeated a certain action or order, the faster it was executed. He began to predict or expect a certain outcome every time, and became disappointed or angry when it did not occur. This was natural though, to be given something repeatedly then having it suddenly vanish was always disappointing.
The MCP would give him his orders, and he would comply. If he failed, there would be disciplining. If he succeeded, there would be praise. If he succeeded exceptionally, there would be a reward.
These rewards left Sark leaning against the console of his podium - surrounded by blue and white and slowly regaining energy. The MCP never rewarded him as well as he had that first time, but Sark was content with what he received none the less. It wasn't so much the feeling, it was the attention. He - of all the programs that served the MCP - was getting this special attention.
This attention and superiority did not stop the Commander from getting his hands dirty. He was more than eager to quell any additional uprisings, as well as terrify his opponents in the Game arena. Unfortunately though it began to lessen in entertainment. The best warriors had been defeated, most by him, some by his lieutenants. All that's left for him to battle are accountants and actuaries, business programs with no ferocity - no drive. It doesn't take away from the fun of derezzing a program - by sending his disk flying through their bodies or by causing them to crash in to their own light wall on the race track. What it does take away is the sense of satisfaction at the end.
But still, Sark was never one to complain - especially now in such vibrant times. The Grid was organized, it was under control, it was safe. The MCP would take care of any and all threats, and Sark was to be his right hand. This made the Commander beam with prime and brim to the edges with excellence.
Everything was as it should be.
And the next chapter is the last, and is going to be equally as short. Sorry if the length is disappointing, but if I write too much I get in over my head and never finish at all.