#tyrbaseadmin

[vintonareco]

//SHITFUCK

So, I had all my threads and the kisses pinned as tabs in firefox, which then decided to shit itself and drop them all. Not surprising, there were a lot of kisses. XD

I'm tracking them down, and I'm pretty sure I've got them all, but if your name isn't in the tags of this post and I owe you, tell me.//

[vintonareco]

//kicking NaNo to the curb for the rest of the night. *gets on all the replies I've owed for 2 weeks*//

[vintonareco]

//That's the last of my askbox memes until NaNo is over. I've still got a few 'don't chase the rabbits', as well as a sexy prompt in there.

Replies are coming, but they're coming slowly, also because of NaNo. :c//

[vints-archive]

It was a dark and stormy cycle

Vint was curled up alone in the far corner of the cave. The storm had moved in so quickly that none of the strays he was with had any idea where to go, so they scattered. He pushed his wet hair out of his face and tugged off his jacket and boots, letting them dry. He carefully put his datapad off to the side, not wanting to damage it. Ever since he met Cyrus, his wrists have been hurting worse, and he hasn't glitched since. The strange program had certainly left an impression.

Thunder sounded overhead and Vint made a face at the roof of the cave, “Of course CLU rectifies everything except the one thing we all hate.”

[argonrefugee-blog]

y0u c@n'7 7ru$7 @ny1 [closed, AU]

Cyrus had begun to act weird a long time ago.

At first, Tron was concerned, and wanted to find out the source of the problem so that he could have his healthy Renegade back without any further issues. After all, Tron had his own problems to worry about; the last thing he wanted was for his Renegade to fall severely ill and eventually put the User Champion right back where he started. 

However, that was before Tron had heard the infected Cyrus talk. Initially, Tron had dismissed the ludicrous ideas of the System being freed through destruction, fighting CLU's idea of perfection with the ultimate chaos. Fighting derezzing with more and more derezzing. It appalled him, and it clashed with the very values he had upheld for many, many cycles on end. However, the longer Tron was forced to listen to his transformed apprentice, the more he began to realize that there was, indeed, some logic in Cyrus's beliefs. No matter how hard Tron had tried, a single Program--not even a small group of Programs--could create a big enough impact on their own that could affect or even ultimately overthrow CLU. Any Program who tried that eventually ended up brutally derezzed, and in the end, Tron wasn't healthy enough to want to take the risk. That was what Cyrus was for, as much as he hated to admit it, and yet Cyrus had a better idea. The "play it safe" method they had adopted--to create a derezz-free rebellion--just wasn't working out, Tron also hated to admit. They had just been going around in circles, although they almost always ended up slightly lesser than where they had started. Cyrus had also spoken up about this. They needed a different plan.

However, there were definite flaws in Cyrus's plan as well. The more Tron reflected about it in the healing chamber, the more he began to realize this. What Cyrus had missed in his evaluation of Programkind was that there were, indeed, some specimens worth significantly more than others. There were important figures, and there were scum. It all depended on the coding. Tron, for instance, had never considered himself to be an important figure, despite the fact that everyone else had always made him out to be one. However, when looking at some other kinds of Programs, specifically the drones and the strays, the Programs who had been reduced to barely with a function at all, Tron realized that he had always subconsciously considered himself to be above them. The ISOs, yes, were a separate class altogether, but although he didn't find himself adoring them as much as Flynn had, the diplomatic side of him knew not all of them deserved the treatment they were getting from the majority of the Basics. Like them, some Basics deserved better or worse than others. It would be unfair to have them all derezzed the same way, especially if the Programs in question were innocent or just guilty by association.

That was what Cyrus didn't understand. He hadn't been in the System for nearly as long as Tron had. Maybe, if Cyrus had seen things that Tron had seen, knew what he knew, experienced everything that his mentor had experienced, maybe he would be willing to tweak his plan to incorporate not all Programs, but the ones who deserved it more than others. A single derezzed Program, Tron often reflected, can have a ripple effect; if it was the right kind of Program, it can affect nearly everyone around him, perhaps even change their lives forever. Whether or not they would learn to cope with repeated loss, as Tron himself had over cycles and cycles and cycles of living and outliving, he didn't know.

Tron reflected on how CLU would deal with this, based on what he had learned about his old friend. At first, the derezzings of several guards wouldn't affect the SysAdmin; he would simply brush it off and obtain more. For every guard that would be derezzed, CLU would be able to obtain twenty more through repurposing. However, the occasional mysterious civilian murder/disappearance with false evidence that it was CLU and his men who had commanded and orchestrated the derezzing... that might get significantly more attention than a few hijacks of Occupation equipment. Cyrus was right; they had to fight fire with fire. However, the fire Tron had in mind was significantly smaller, and yet in the end, it would create a larger impact on the Occupation.

CLU had spent enough time making Tron his scapegoat. It was about time Tron returned the favor.

[argonrefugee-blog]

Cyrus the Virus (M!A: Freaky Friday; First Renegade!era)

Tron wasn't in the healing chamber.

It had been a strange feeling, but it was also like not feeling anything at all. His body no longer hurt. That was the first thing Tron noticed. He didn't feel the chronic need to rest in the healing chamber, rest for long periods of the microcycle, and constantly prevent himself from dying. No, he was healthy. Perfectly healthy.

Or not, he reminded himself, taking a look around the base to see if anything had actually changed. In the state you're in, everyone else looks much healthier than  you.

He was still in the base, and the base hadn't changed at all, but... something still didn't feel right. 

"Cyrus?" he called out, only to realize his voice was different. It sounded more like Cyrus calling out his own name. But... why? How? He wasn't Cyrus. Was this another result of Cyrus' strange behavior? Was this some strange practical joke? Tron didn't have time for jokes.

"Cyrus?" the Program desperately called out. He searched the base, starting with the healing chamber area, hoping to find some trace of another living being in the base.

One that, logically, looked like himself.

[argonrefugee-blog]

[@Cyrus] Bug

Something was wrong with Cyrus.

Tron could tell that much. His Renegade had been acting weird lately, and Tron had usually dismissed it as mere pressure, the usual effects from having the safety of the Grid in one's hands. Tron himself had even succumbed to the pressure at some points, but a few microcycles of rest and some Energy made him be back on patrol. 

Yes. That was before.

However, Cyrus' affliction, Tron soon knew, was completely different than what he had originally expected. Cyrus had begun to act odd, say odd things that completely threw his mentor off. He began to act more violent, bring up discussion topics that Tron wouldn't have even discussed with Flynn. He considered asking Able what to do, but he didn't want to bring Able into this until he was absolutely sure the other Program was needed. Tron, after all, was used to being able to handle things himself, and this was no exception. 

At least, he hoped it wasn't.

[designation-tron-v2-blog]

Cyrus: Solace

Help and Aid

I can't say that it wasn't needed. And I can't say it wasn't appreciated. But when you are reduced to having the strength of half a bit, frustration will arise from it.

The frustration sits with you and gnaws at you, soon becoming a separate entity to yourself. It taunts you from afar, it waits for that one moment when you think you can. Then, you fail and it's there, ready and waiting to kick you further.

That's what makes you annoyed. That's what makes you irritable. Because you could. You know you could walk 20 paces without something failing, but your 'self' is letting you down.

That's what the frustration feeds on.

So you try to push it further. But then it goes too far. And you end up back at square one.

“Why did you try to jump it?”

“Why not?”

Cyrus just gave me a look, as if his face wasn't sure which emotion to display; anger or anxiety.

“You knew full well that it was too far for you.”

I didn't answer. He continued to check the rupture on my left shoulder and pulled a face.

“What exactly were you trying to prove? You know you aren't running at full capacity.”

“But I should be.”

“But you aren't. Take it as it is.”

I remained silent.

Cyrus walked around the front of me and sighed. “You keep doing this, there won't be anyone to-”

“I don't want platitudes, Cyrus.”

Cyrus looked slightly taken aback by the harsh outburst.

I stood up and glared at him. “Right now, I want my ability to be me back. I think the lack of selflessness is understandable, don't you?”

Cyrus just stood there and put a hand to the side. “You will have the ability back. You will. Just not yet.”

Why was he so calm?

Why?

“When you have experienced 23% function capability, then you can talk to me.”

Cyrus then said something I didn't expect.

“No, you're right. I can't empathise with this.” he said, shrugging, as if the topic were about a slightly scratched helmet, not near death. “But you aren't going to find many programs with as much resilience as you in order to empathise. Sympathy and advice is the best you're going to get right now.”

I was stunned. Viewing it in that light seemed to jolt some low point from under me, letting me fall through to some form of... acceptance.

He then tapped the charge code into the healing tube and opened the door. “If anything, this will help speed it up, but you have to remember this will take as long as it takes.” he said lightly, an odd tone in his voice.

I still didn't say anything.

I couldn't.