Son of Flynn

[liberatedthroughperfection]

//So unfourtantly, I've lost interest (for now) in Tron rp and the fandom as a whole. This blog is going to afk until I can regain some interest in it again.

//You can find me over on @ohpossumblogs, along with my Twitch, and Youtube channel.

//My co-host (Critty) and I play Dead by Daylight, and she's playing the Resident Evil series!

//I still LOVE Tron, but I've become burnt out.

//See you in the Fog

[snowingclouds]

TRON: Legacy | 2010

I've always loved the beige, warm tones at the beginning of the film.

Sam doesn't get a lot of characterization in the movie (who does in this show, honestly?), but I feel like the opening shots have so much in such little time. Yapping about it below.

I think these opening shots talk so much about who Sam is. I have gifs coming up that are more of the apartment scene, and I think they speak volumes of who Sam is. He's running from grief. He's living life as a series of stunts. I think he's someone who wants to leave no trace, and also live on the edge, on a boundary between everything and nothing, as long as it isn't boring. He's reckless, immature at twenty-seven, and I think that his maturity could be seen as a subplot of the show. In the soundtrack, there's a parallel to Encom pt. II and Disc Wars. The scenes are parallels. He's going from being reckless just for the sake of it to having a purpose, a goal, and seeing outside of himself. It feels like his character growth is about him learning responsibility, learning to take life seriously after shoving it to the side for so long.

He's given so little characterization, that the start of the movie ends up being so dense. Every small scene says something about him.

Anyways, Sam is one of my top 3 most yappable characters. I won't shut up about him, even if none of the gifs have him directly in it, lmao. I swear the next set will.

[whump-in-the-closet]

Five Types of Living Weapon Whumpees

The guard dog -> loyalty has been ingrained into their bones, following their handler around like their shadow. No one dares stand against the organization because of the legendary dread surrounding this living weapon. They hardly say a word but every movement is calculated, eyes always darting, always watching. (“You always were their lapdog.”)

The loose cannon -> dangerous for both sides. Always talking back and never predictable, their value is dependent on their skill. If it wasn’t for that, they’d be dead a long time ago. Their loyalty is earned, not bought. No one wants to be on their bad side, walking on tip toe whenever they show up. And they enjoy it. (“What’s everyone looking at? Aren’t you happy to see me? I even brought my rifle!”)

The broken down -> most common type of whumpee I’ve seen. They’ve been overpowered and forced into the commission. They hate their handler more than anything else but see no way out. When they’re told to shoot, they don’t even blink. It’s always “yes, sir” this and “yes, sir” that. If they feel any sympathy, they don’t show it. They’ll do anything to avoid punishment and flinch at quick movements. Nothing they face on the field is worse than the cards they’ve been dealt. (“I understand, sir/ ma’am. I-I’m sorry.”)

The dissenter -> Usually recruited into the organization or joined as a last ditch option. Not necessarily against using their abilities or skill, they just hate being told what to do. As time goes on and their disobedience is punished over and over again, they grow reluctant. Bitter. With every order, they slip in a snarky comment. Roll their eyes. Anything to assert their own identity. Or what’s left of it. (“ah ah ah, you didn’t think i’d notice? The middle finger was a bit much. I’m afraid it will have to go.”)

The ghost in the machine -> known only by their codename by outsiders and by their number in the organization, they’ve been stripped of all humanity. They live, breathe, and think by their handlers orders. They’ve been told over and over again that they are just a weapon. And a weapon does what it’s told. Their anonymity is attached to the organization in the same way a gun is simply an extension of their arm. But at night they still stare up at the ceiling with a blank stare— did they ever a life before this? They can’t remember. (“It’s not like it’s a person. It doesn’t have feelings like that.”)

[theramzler]

[ldso-tron]

Now here’s something I didn’t know existed, before now. This artwork is apparently from a TRON Legacy story book published in 2010, named Out of the Dark.

-TronFAQ

[fand0mfever]

Imagine if Rinzler never recognized that Sam was a User.

And kept going.

Wondering why he wasn't Derezzing.

And kept hacking at the body.

And even Clu stepping in to stop him.

[???]

What is that red stuff?

And why hasn't the program's arm derezzed?

Why?

Maybe he just needs a little force.

More.

More.

More.

He's not derezzing?

Why is he not derezzing?

WHY IS HE NOT DEREZZING!?

[evecolourshock]

You gave me fic ideas, so this is sort of now your problem.

Featuring : a BADLY hurt Sam, and a Clu with many regrets.

Rinzler rumbles at the Program underneath him in confusion. They should have lost an arm by now. There is... there is red, despite their white circuits, so this opponent is glitched in some way, but they've still got all limbs and are just looking at Rinzler. He knows he should have damaged them, a thin stream of red spilling from where his disc impacted them, but they're not showing it.

He snarls to himself, and brings his disc down harder on the same spot. It hits something solid, skitters in his grip, and the Program beneath him screams.

The voice in his head screams too, yelling at him to stop, but Rinzler ignores it. The Luminary told him the voice lies and is nothing more than an incurable glitch, therefore whatever it says is irrelevant.

Rinzler scowls, makes a third attempt, and cannot get through the solid thing. More red spills, the other Program thrashing in pain, but the arm is still not derezzed.

Never mind, he will try somewhere else. He gets up, and the other Program tries to crawl away. They can't use the arm spilling red, and Rinzler is relieved there was damage after all.

The lower leg nets the same result - spilling red, but a solid thing stops him from severing it. Chest, much of the same, though the other Program is no longer moving so Rinzler supposes that's something-

He's pulled off before he can have a go at the neck.

He blinks, limp and compliant - The Luminary ordered him to stop, so he does. He doesn't understand why, and understands the rush of medics to the Program he was fighting even less. They were in the Arena, fighting Rinzler, therefore they were to be derezzed. He was just... doing his function, as dictated by The Luminary.

The Luminary looks horrified, whispering what have you done at the edge of Rinzler's audio sensor threshold, and Rinzler doesn't understand that either.

Clu confines Rinzler to quarters, all but ripping the Enforcer's discs off his back and looking through them desperately. The Admin can feel that unfamiliar, human sensation of bile creeping up his throat, swallowing harshly to try and shift it. He- oh glitch, what has he done?

The User is still and pale in the finest medical suite Clu has, barely alive - wouldn't be, if he hadn't deigned to look and seen the blood spilling everywhere. He doesn't- he doesn't know what to do. The User responds positively to the treatments once reserved for ISOs - Clu hadn't even known those were archived anywhere, there's certainly no one left who knows them properly - but... it's slow. The portal will shut before they're in any way safe to travel through it.

Clu's window is closing, and he can't even bring himself to care.

He loses the battle with his hitherto-unknown ability to vomit when he finds the logic Rinzler was operating on. There- Clu doesn't know what he was expecting, but-

Rinzler was doing his function. Perfectly, exactly as Clu had forced it over the top of Tron's code. This- this is Clu's fault. He has no one else to blame - Rinzler was executing his function perfectly, Tron's in no condition to do... anything except watch, and-

Clu wrote those functions. Clu forced them on Tron, broke the Monitor as retribution for- for doing exactly as Rinzler has done, obeying and performing his function as written. Clu was the only one who knew what had been done, and derezzed anyone who dared suspect.

It was Rinzler's disc that carved open the User, but Clu's was the hand that guided it.

And now Clu has a broken User in his medical suite, so young - a beta, maybe, or not even that given how small and fragile they look - and no matter which way Clu looks at it he's the one that put them there.

It was easy to brush aside the derezolutions, to ignore the reports rolling in, because Programs weren't real. Flynn taught him that, as much as his creator taught him anything. But now, with the stark comparison and even bigger shock to his core, he can't help seeing them flash across his memory again, and- there's so many. He's killed so many, directly and... not. Not that there's much of a distinction, when it's his orders that led to their deaths.

He- he doesn't know what he wants, doesn't think he ever did, but- not this. Oh Grid, he never wanted this.

He finds the logs of what Tron yells from the cage Clu wrote for him, and grief rips though him. Tron- Tron begged. Tron begged and Rinzler ignored him just like Clu told the Enforcer to. Once Clu would have gloated over reading what he is, but... not this time. Not now.

No, stop! Stop, you'll kill him! No, don't- Sam, Sam run! Leave him alone! You've- you've done enough, back off! That's a User! That's- that's Sam. Sammy. Sammy, no, no don't- Sam! Please- please. Stop. Please, leave him alone. Don't- not Sam. Don't kill Sam. Please. You've already taken Beck from me, don't take Sam too.

Please. Please stop. I'll do anything, just- just leave my kids alone.

And Rinzler hadn't. Because Clu had told him not to listen.

Beck... Clu hasn't thought about the beta in a long time. Important only as a bargaining chip, or so he'd thought - the beta Tron had surrendered to ensure the safety of, even now held unconscious in deep storage just in case Clu ever decided he needed to bring Tron back in line one way or another. Just a Program not even past beta yet-

Just a kid. Like the User near-dead a scant few rooms away. A kid Tron mourns, thinking the beta derezzed. That Clu derezzed the beta once he'd gotten what he wanted from Tron.

Clu feels like he's going to throw up again when he realises Tron has more than enough cause to think that.

He glances at Rinzler's quarters, at the medical suite, down at the discs in his hands. He makes a decision.

Rinzler rumbles confusion as Clu treads a path he never thought he'd take again, taking the Enforcer down to the only surviving solo rectifier - one he'd held onto for dratted sentiment, still holding the logs of what he'd done to its final- final victim. It might be too little too late, but... he needs to make this right.

Tron staggers out of the rectifier and immediately throws an impressive punch straight at Clu's face. It connects, breaking the Admin's nose and forcing him to lurch backwards. Tron can barely keep himself upright afterwards though, drained beyond belief and running on spite alone, one hand braced against the rectifier's wall and the other still balled in a fist.

"I deserve worse." Clu offers, despite the leaking voxels, and Tron can't help the tiny pull at one corner of his mouth. "But... they're alive. Both of them."

It takes a moment for Tron to parse the implications, but he nearly collapses when he figures it out. "Take me to them." He grits out. Clu, probably sensing he's in no mood for games and every mood for a fight, does.

Beck is a groggy wreck in one bed, pleading with hallucinatory guards and Cyruses to leave everyone alone - clinging to Tron, when he finally makes his way over and convinces his beta he isn't just another product of Beck's reaction to sedatives. Sam is- oh Users, his human kid is so badly hurt. Tron moves Beck's bed closer so he can sit in the middle and hold both of them.

"Da-? Al-?" Sam croaks out, struggling to be awake - shouldn't be awake, but Tron's never known him to do as he's told unless he feels like it. Rather like another beta he knows well.

"Neither of those, Sammy." Tron tells him, and gets that big toothy grin he knows so well from a much younger face. "Rest, okay? I'm not going anywhere, and neither's your brother."

"'Kay." Sam yawns, nuzzling into Tron's side. "Night mom."

Tron chuckles - it's a thing Sam started doing when he was so much smaller, calling Tron some version of what Users denote as maternal parent, and he's glad to hear it again. After all, someone had to raise Sam when he was on the Grid for millicycles upon millicycles during his early years, and Flynn was off with Clu so Tron stepped up. "Night Sammy. Rest and recover."

Sam's got... so much healing to do, may never heal to how he used to be, but... he's here, Tron is here, and Beck is here, and Clu's apparently got enough sense left to stay far away, so whatever comes next they'll figure it out.

[quorras]

[quorras]

IM WHEEZING AT THESE TAGS @sarellathesphinx

[winzler]

[dw-t]

winzler:

Aaaand now with Sam. Getting there.

I think this was posted before I was on tumblr but even if I reblogged it before IT’S WORTH REBLOGGING AGAIN. It’s such a beautiful concept and an equally beautiful execution.

[opendirectories]

[evecolourshock]

"Probably still asleep." Eve told Komet quietly, warming her hands on a mug of tea. "He'll be down soon. Was a rough and hectic time yesterday, and he'd had a competition a few days ago so he's still pretty tired from that."

Jet finished giving Marvin his kibble and dusted his hands off, wandering over to wash them. "Morning Komet." He greeted quietly. "Anything you want for breakfast?" He noticed how Komet's eyes kept flickering over to the fruit bowl - most likely despite Komet's wishes to remain... far too quiet and unobtrusive for someone templated off Sam - and made a decision that would hopefully get some nutrients into Komet after the disaster that was chicken noodle soup. "I was thinking smoothies. Lots of different kinds of fruit - like the bananas - all blended up so you can drink them."

Smoothies were not normally a breakfast item in the Bradley household, but Jet was determined to find something Komet would actually like.

[smellslikejail]

"Competition..." Komet commented to himself, attention fully turned to Jet once he was addressed.

"You can combine bananas with other things?" This piqued Komet's interest. He pushed himself off the wall, and moved so he was next to Eve. Still within the safety zone. "And you can drink it?" He glanced at Eve's tea. How could Jet turn a banana into a liquid?

"Can I watch?" The last question was asked a bit quieter than the others. Komet wasn't sure how Jet would react. He seemed amenable, but Jet was slightly taller and stockier than he was. He was trusted with Marvin.

"To see how it's made."

[evecolourshock]

Alan just laughed. "Yes, probably. He's always been better with people." He waited a moment so Komet could finish settling. "Feeling up to having breakfast now, Komet? Something small so you have energy for the morning."

[smellslikejail]

He ran a hand through his hair. What a way to wake up. "Yeah, yeah." Komet nodded, still trying to parse the information that had just been dumped onto him.

Alan led the way into what was apparently the kitchen, but Komet hung behind to look at everything inside. This is where Jet had made the soup last night. The thought of it almost made him retch.

There were many different things to interact with in here. Vague memories floated around in his mind. Words that didn't make sense, but seem to correspond to the different appliances. Stove, microwave, sink, dishwasher...

Eventually curiosity won out and Komet eased into the kitchen, hands stuffed into his pockets to avoid touching. In a back corner, he watched everyone set to their own task. Jet came in through the front door with Marvin, and everybody exchanged a 'Good Morning'. Everybody was here except-

"Where's Sam?" Komet asked, loud enough so they'd all hear.

[yodaprod]

Here is an Amiga 520 converter. In Europe, the commodore Amiga 500 only came with a DB23 to SCART cable. This can convert the DB23 video out into a composite signal.

Now it's time to check if some games are still working.

[zededge]

Just a quick paint-sketch of a fun idea for a picture.

[mayertis-not-a-user]

Made by my friend @tenebris-caeli

[baruyon]

More quick unreferenced fanart. At least I’ve seen the original film? =(

[mousesketches]

oh, you know,

[what-bot]

“Welcome to the uprising, put these on”

[disneyphile]

Mickey Mouse, for the US opening of Tron Lightcycle Run.

[pseudonode]