i s o n i z e

(indie quorra (tron: legacy]

[quorral]

   "So, if I just turn right here I'll--"

[quorral]

Quorra by Laura-Bas

[quorral]

   "Get down. Don't ask just--duck!"

[quorral]

[clickclickpurr]

Targeting. Targeting. Target acquired.

        Program: Unknown.         Designation: Unknown.         c:run/         c:run/capture

enforcer.

              That was the title of this monster, he of hellfire red circuitry denoting him to be one of Clu’s. He was the only member of the Blackguard whom existed outside of set parameters. The only one that dared to rove far and yet near again beneath the watch of the eyes of his master. Little rabbit, his mind whispered, the voice that was both his and yet not his. Run, little rabbit.

                               A hand lifts upwards and towards his back, taking grasp of infinity outlined in red, bringing the disc into view before his thumb pushes and they separate into two, his stance shifting into one of patient aggression. He will strike at his own leisure.

[quorral]

   She is not the huntress. She is the prey and like a rabbit laced with adrenaline does her mind impel her to act of its own accord. She is not fearless, but she is not afraid. Though her surges the legacy of her kind, the raw anger and the memories of cries and the thunderous collapse of that which they'd known as home. Quorra's home of ice and water is destroyed by calamitous fire and ruination and their cries surge with the adrenaline in her veins. But it isn't adrenaline and there aren't veins. But there are codes and commands that remember and impel her to action. 

   "I won't let you get away," she avows and her voice is not the soft and sweet winds she remembers aboard a freight train. It isn't the childish glee. It is cold and inexperienced but it is the voice of one seeking revenge, as foolhardy as it might be. The identity disc on the offense is accompanied by a saber and it creates an anguished hiss in the silence as deadly florescence is unsheathed. Eyes narrowing, she hurls her disc with all her might and its sent upon a collision course to hone upon its intended target effulgent in the glow of hell fire itself.

[inheritedgrace]

  Sometimes, he forgot just how much different Quorra was from him. It wasn’t like she was human or grew up knowing things like he did. She was a computer program, a new species—- an ISO. Even the smallest things could make her happy. So, with feigned interest, he found himself turning to meet her gaze. “What am I looking at?”

[quorral]

   "Not looking; listen," Quorra said with a smile broadening her features, searing hues like ice water cast downwards as a moment of perception was allowed to span between them. For a moment it extended until the faint lullaby far from the distance wafted into their proximity. A finger was held in suspension, finally gazing at him at long last. "I started hearing it yesterday. It tells the time, doesn't it? Playing by the hour. That's what Flynn told me." Her grin is ceaseless in reflexive relapse, so excited and enchanted by the discovery made.

[quorral]

   Hand upon shoulder, there is a bated pause without breath as eyes stare with relentless wonder into the beyond; afore periphery and without flicking gaze once at the Creator's son. "Sam," she beckoned, tapping twice upon his shoulder, "you've gotta look at this."

[curioushacker-archive]

"Ummm… yeah. See, that’s kinda because…" He scratched the back of his helmet awkwardly. "I’m not exactly authorized to be here. Don’t tell anybody, okay? The name’s Tarker. I’m a good guy, honest, I swear."

[quorral]

   "Tarker," came the return of name as though an affirmation, Quorra's eyes alight and feeling as though he could be trusted. Though she was fraught with naivete, there was something intrinsic about other programs where fraternity was a readiness almost easily sensed. "I won't, but why are you here? This isn't exactly the safest place to be." Though her gaze cast about was suspicious, he seemed reliant enough. No florescent orange to speak of, so he didn't seem like a corrupted crony serving under Clu.

[quorral]

   "Sunlight is described as being warm, but...what kind of warmth is that like? What does its heat feel like on your skin? Does the sun glow different colors? The scans in this book all look so different from each other..."

[designationforte]

"Well, that’s probably because I live in another sector. My name is Forté. May I ask your name?"

[quorral]

The seemingly younger woman gazed contemplatively at the newcomer--or was she that? Frigidity darted upon the brunette and lip was bit before she mustered a small simper, thrusting her hand forth. "My name is Quorra. It's nice to meet you, Forté."

[designation-eckert]

"Oh? Well, that’s slightly disappointing." the Entertainment Program softly said before clearing his throat, "Perhaps you haven’t seen me at the End of Line before. Designation Eckert. Brother to Castor." 

[quorral]

   Isolation had proven her downfall, hasn't it? Azures of shocking ice yet lacking the frigidity contemplated the name, the ISO not having come across the name, admittedly. Feline curiosity is belied, and naivete betrayed as she quirks an odd smile. "Ca s tor..." enunciation spiels slowly, no shame of ignorance splayed upon her countenance. Wait... "Oh, Castor! I don't go there much, but it does ring a bell!" Puerile glee spreads and she smiles brightly, enthusiastically extending a hand towards the other program. "Nice to met you...um...? Eckert?"

[quorral]

Do you rp with characters/OCs from Uprising?

  (Oh gosh, I’ve actually never seen Uprising! However, I am open to rping with absolutely everyone who wants to. Just give this n00b a bit of patience and I’ll do my best! ^-^]

[quorral]

   ooc; Holy cow, not even day one and already there's twenty of you and counting. My apologies for being so quiet, but I guess I'm still pretty insecure since I've been 'derezzed' from the fandom for awhile. More in a sense that it's been awhile since I've seen the movie than ever been actively involved. Seeing as I created this blog on kind of a positive peer pressure kind of deal (looking at Diya and Jen tbh lol] and I need some time to recoup. However, in the meantime, like this for a starter? I'll also be fixing things up soon as well. Making things decent and pretty since I created this blog literally on the fly. I also owe a starter to Diya (what's better than the imposter and Flynn's protege duking it out? lol] and anyone who likes this. So, off with some movie-watching. I'll touch base with you guys in a bit!

[quorral]

   "...I don't think I've seen you around here before."

[quorral]

01100011 01101100 01101001 01100011 01101011 01100011 01101100 01101001 01100011 01101011 01110000 01110101 01110010 01110010

   She stands in something akin to the stance of a rabbit caught within predatory sights. But she isn't afraid. Because Flynn taught her everything she could need to know, and in this world of eternal night she sees him as a novelty. He is new and she hasn't seen him before. But there is a light beam steadied and her identity disc in invoked to become an offensive weapon. The rotary of neon and the singe of the blade burn electron and neutron and protons and yet to her there is no scent. There is only azure and tangerine and they are contended to sight within a dance of enemy and enemy, protagonist and prey. Her mind races calculations perceived as rational thought to mortal understanding, and binary fleets from command to command as gape clenches and her stance is true. She will not balk, she will not speak, and she will not yet strike.

[quorral]

WHAT IS YOUR EARLIEST HUMAN MEMORY?

   01010011 01101000 01100101 00100000 01110010 01100101 01101101 01100101

01101101 01100010 01100101 01110010 01110011 00100000 01101100 01101001 01100111 01101000 01110100 00100000 01100001 01101110 01100100 00100000 01110011 01101111 01110101 01101110 01100100

00100000 01100001 01101110 01100100 00100000 01100011 01101000 01100001 01101111 01110011 00100000 01100001 01101110 01100100 00100000 01100110 00100000 01100001 00100000 01101100 00100000 01101100 00100000 01101001 00100000 01101110 00100000 0110

                               011

                                                 1

                 a

                           n d

there is wind that rushes and it is cold and without ceasing. There aren’t codes, raining lines upon them that cloud and distort and are everything within her perception. Synapses like the mind that connected her to the Grid are without and she is not bound to it. She never was. The sun is unlike anything she’s ever seen, and it is beautiful and radiant and warm upon her flesh. Flesh. She can perceive heat, touch, the smell of cologne and the press of leather to her nose. It’s soft but it’s also firm and it smelled like it was alive once. She can perceive the press of masculinity against femininity and it is what she is. Raven rushes and azures range to scintillating waters and surfaces bronzed by the intensity of the rising sun. She is wearing clothes that are soft and it is a rush! Senses to perceive that taste the brine of the sea and the salt in the air and the cologne that stuffs her nose with Sam. He’s like his father but he’s also not. She is innocent and she is al i v e and it is beautiful and real! There’s an engine beneath her and she can hear its roar over the wind and that cups her ears and isn’t a tender caress. There are so many things—the blue of the sky and the white of the clouds!—so high aloft and she’s getting dizzy from absorbing it all and—-

       —”The sun.”

[perfectomhiddleston-blog]

Sam, I don't belong here...