#liberatedthroughperfection

[riinzler]

(closed starter continuation for @liberatedthroughperfection)

The mission had been successful. Not as smooth as Rinzler would’ve preferred, but the objective had been completed without further complications so he couldn’t complain. What he *could* complain about was the fact that despite having already submitted his report he had to linger in Argon instead of returning to the Admin’s side, something that was rather unusual. To make matters worse he’d been instructed to shadow Dyson until the Marshal was ready to leave, whenever that would be. Why Rinzler couldn’t simply fly back on his own was unclear, but it wasn’t his place to question Clu’s orders, just to fulfill them. Even if it meant he had to spend a completely unnecessary amount of time around Dyson, following at his heels like a loyal bit as if they weren’t the same rank.

Regardless, because of his lack of alternate standing orders Rinzler didn’t have much to do other than silently watch the current proceedings while going over how the mission could’ve been done more effectively, as was customary for him. Overall the missteps had been exceptionally minor all things considered, but there was always room for improvement. That, and it momentarily distracted him from the fact that his time was being wasted the longer he was forced to stay. It made him restless, both from the perpetual understimulation that he had to endure between assignments, and the fact that the Admin was currently guarded only by the Black Guard and not himself. While he knew Clu was more than capable of protecting himself it was in his programming to worry after such security threats.

All that is to say he was relieved when the Marshal completed one of his many circuits of the city and led them back towards his office, hopefully to finally complete his own report. Rinzler stood guard by the door as Dyson moved around the room, primarily focused internally on running separate combat scenarios. Some of his attention was kept on the other program of course, just as some of it was sectioned off on monitoring the hallway and running the occasional scan, but his more active monitoring was aimed elsewhere. The sooner that Dyson finished the sooner he could get back to doing something more worthwhile.

[not-that-dillinger]

"Hey Eddy, fCon deez nuts." - Sam

Ed knit his eyebrows in utter bafflement at the ridiculous statement, though every muscle in his body went rigid at the mention of his father's company. "Ef—what???" He couldn't tell if it was a genuine joke or an awkward attempt to flirt or a disguised insult or accusation. From his experiences with Mackey it's more likely to be the latter, but he doesn't know Sam well enough to make a judgement.

"Eddy?!?" He wasn't used to that variation of his name, either. It didn't grate the way Junior did, nor sting like Dillinger. It just felt... Odd for it's lack of use.

He wasn't sure if it was meant to hurt.

He didn't want it to.

[yourleaderandbeacon]

Continuing from here: xxx

The Admin glanced at the opening to the cave and the torrential downpour of energy rains beyond it. They were in the Outlands which meant that this energy wouldn't be refined. It would either dissipate or collect in natural pools to be devoured by Gridbugs or whatever else existed out here.

He could never figure out why the storms were some sort of mood indicator for him. But it wasn't a risk to the Grid so he didn't really let it bother him all that much. Maybe when he had made the modifications to the command process to begin with. It seemed to be helpful for the programs that knew.

The Admin simply shrugged when Dyson asked if there should be anything he should know to cause the downpour in the first place. Not like the Outlands followed any sort of logic to begin with. Normally, being on light cycles would have him in a different sort of mood. One which would have Dyson pinned to a wall and in some state of undress.

But it seemed the Luminary wasn't in that kind of mood at the nano.

@liberatedthroughperfection

[designationopal]

Continuing from Here.

She had to smile at his mock indignation. At one point she found him intimidating, since he was The Grand Marshall of the Grid. But now she had gotten to know him and considered him a friend. Odd how she had come to work with these powerful programs and enjoyed their company.

The Siren took his offered arm. "Perhaps I could." Sirens were not often thought of as fighters but Clu had seen to it that she had the means to protect herself if she should need it. 'Comes with the territory' he had said.

"Why Dyson, you're going to be just as bad as some of the other Sirens I know if you keep this up. I'm sure I could come up with something to occupy you until we get to the Tower so Clu can hear the 'Official Gossip'."

[lifesshortpop]

#Dyson is a creep "Fight me Bradly."

Raised eyebrow. “Taking a break from torturing prisoners who can’t fight back?” 

Okay, not the wisest comment. But he’s never been keen on bullies.

[riinzler]

(closed starter for @liberatedthroughperfection)

Something was wrong.

That wasn’t necessarily abnormal, there was always something wrong, but now it was especially wrong.

Rinzler had been sent along with Dyson to a meeting, a rare occurrence done as a show of strength by Clu, sending his highest ranking soldiers as a unified front. It had the intended effect and while the meeting was boring Rinzler was only expected to stand as Dyson’s shadow so it wasn’t too bad all things considered. That wasn’t what was wrong.

What was wrong was the speed at which the Marshal had left, the anger that he’d held that didn’t align with the current mission success. It was enough of an abnormality to trigger Rinzler’s threat assessment, prompting him to follow after him from a distance and deeper into the expanse of hallways. Rinzler had memorized them long ago which is how he knew there was nothing of note down there. Where was Dyson going? Rinzler’s first thought was he was off to do…personal business, but that didn’t make sense. He was doing something outside of their current assignment, something that would no doubt cause Rinzler’s to fall under scrutiny from their Admin. That was unacceptable and so he’d followed all the way to the end of the hall, to the currently unused room Dyson had ducked into.

The Marshal was doing…something? What, exactly, was unclear. He was clutching at the side of his head and murmuring quietly enough that Rinzler had to adjust his audio input to hear. Huh.

He carefully crept within arms length and slowly extended a hand to snap next to Dyson’s ear. He reacted to the sound, but his eyes were unfocused and didn’t quite land on Rinzler’s helmet. His head tilted in confusion as he knelt to be at eye level, watching intently.

[What are you doing?]

[yourleaderandbeacon]

penny for your thoughts- Dyson obvi

The Luminary pauses in whatever it was he'd been doing. The windows minimized to icons highlighted in gold for him to read later. Brushing away the User idiom- Flynn had so favored those -to understand what it meant.

"The Marshall is…something special." He began as a gloved finger tapped his chin as he thought just how to put his feelings into words. "He's diligent in his duties to me and the Grid. I couldn't ask for a better program in the position."

Of course he wouldn't actually come out and say it. Even if half the Grid knew with the way they acted around each other. They both couldn't put their feelings into words. It's not like they didn't know but perhaps it was some sort of trepidation on both of their parts. It was a simple four letter word.

Yet that four letter word kept getting stuck in his throat.

"But aside from his position. He's one of the best things that ever happened in my long existence. We may argue but that's not unheard of among programs who spend a good deal of time with each other. We do make amends afterwards or we don't acknowledge it happened in the first place."

They had eased into something; although he wasn't exactly sure what. He felt a brief chill in his circuits at the thought of losing that something. "Enough now. I need to get back to work."

[riinzler]

(closed starter for @liberatedthroughperfection)

To say Rinzler was annoyed would be a drastic understatement. He’d dealt with ISOs on his own countless times, but since this particular group was centralized in Argon, he’d have to work with Dyson to eliminate the threat.

Typically Rinzler went about his millis completely forgetting that the other program even existed since he didn’t tend to play a relevant part in Rinzler’s assignments, but then moments like these would come around, making him wish he’d taken the time to document his various plans to derezz him. Not that their Admin would let him enact them.

He was getting off track. Point is, the two of them would have to work together to cull the rising numbers of ISOs hidden within the city, so Rinzler had been sent across the grid on his lightjet to handle the issue.

And Dyson, arrogant null-unit that he is, hadn’t even bothered to meet him when he’d landed. Which leads Rinzler to now, stalking through the halls of the command ship in search of him, his ever present grinding noise coming out as a deep, irritated growl. It emanated from the depths of his chest, rattling his core and setting his teeth on edge. It was painful with how it jostled the broken code around his throat, but it made the programs on board all but fall over themselves to stay out of his path as he made his way to the ships throne room.