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[tronlived]

“You didn’t deserve this,” Tron replied over his shoulder at CLU. “No one alive deserves this. Except for him.”

“Come on, guys,” Flynn insisted, trying to regain his carefree attitude. “You’re just overreacting. I’m sure we can just talk this out like friends, and we can all get back to--”

“We’ve tried. He’s tried. I’ve tried.” Tron stepped closer to Flynn. “Don’t act like he’s your only victim.”

“‘Victim’? That’s kind of a strong word--”

Tron lowered his voice. “Where’s Yori, Flynn?”

stab(caesar) - [systemadministratorclu]

He was livid.

He disguised his silent fury as steely determination which, for any other Program, would have been impressive, except that he was more than accustomed to remaining stoic in times like this. Times when his emotions–and opinion–would have caused a stir.

His friend… his best friend… would not do that.

He wouldn’t. There must have been some mistake. After all, they did look identical…

But he’d seen it with his own eyes. He’d watched it happen in real time, albeit safely undetected from a remote location. The cameras he’d secretly put up throughout Tron Tower… they didn’t lie.

They showed him… a whole other side to Flynn that the User never let him see.

Tron never fully believed CLU’s accusations of Flynn abusing him, even after he’d seen the admin’s wounds and scars with his own eyes. Part of him refused to comprehend that the User, his best friend, who had saved the ENCOM System from the MCP and had such huge aspirations for creating a “digital paradise”, would do… this.

No… Tron was fully aware that Flynn was capable of something like this. He’d never explained to CLU exactly why–even given what he’d been through himself, CLU would never truly understand–but there was a lingering gut feeling that Flynn’s “benevolent User” nature was nothing but a ruse transparent to only a select few.

And those few… who would believe them?

But when concrete evidence appeared before his very eyes, Tron knew something had to be done.

“This,” he’d told CLU when they’d met in private after the incident, “ends here.”

Under any other circumstances, he would dismiss it. He wouldn’t be able to work up the courage to say something, in fear of disturbing the peace or drawing unnecessary attention to himself. He would bow his head and accept things as they were.

This time, though?

This time…

He glanced down at Flynn beside him, blissfully unaware of what was about to unfold. Another one of his brief visits to the Grid was about to conclude, and Tron was escorting Flynn back to the Portal so he could return to that mysterious World from which he’d first come.

Tron’s expression hardly changed as they arrived at the rendezvous point.

[tronlived]

Tron scowled at the mention of his target.

“Understood,” he replied. “Though in most circumstances, I would love nothing more to see him in cubes on the ground, I will make an exception for you, Alan One.” He bowed his head at the mention of his User’s name, then looked back up. “Have you tracked his location? Or do you have an approximation of where he is?”

"Tron, I need you to do something for me..."

“Yes, Alan One. Anything.”

[tronlived]

Tron forced a smile.

“It has,” he replied, still standing stiff even after Ram had let him go. “It’s... It’s been a long time. A lot’s changed.” He forced himself to be jovial. “A lot’s happened.”

Should he run? Should he have run by now?

No. He had to face this. He would never rest until he did, even here.

But every moment standing here still talking gave them more time to form a mob, more time to rush at him and take him down all at once--they could easily overpower him, and he knew that--more time to give him what he deserved.

Yet he couldn’t run.

It was the risk he had to take in order to give himself the illusion of peace.

"It's been a long time, hasn't it?" (Beck; heaven)

He had been waiting at the gate. He knew who was coming, and when the program was in sight, a warm smile grew. The warmth reached his eyes and they glowed, a rare sight while the program had been living, especially in his last cycles. 

His being was dressed in white, the white of Tron and the Renegade as he forced himself to remain where he was as his mentor, the warrior of the Grid approached him at last. 

He nodded at the question, now allowing himself to take a couple steps forward to meet his mentor. “It has.” 

[tronlived]

Force my Muse to Spill their Secrets

🌧- For a heavy, emotional secret

🙃- For a lighter, slightly embarrassing secret

🌟- For a secret wish or desire of theirs

🍏- For something they secretly wish didn’t exist

🍎- For something they secretly wish did exist

❤️- For a secret crush

📲- Talk about someone/something you dislike, but only pretend to like

👁‍🗨- Talk about someone/something you like, but pretend to dislike

🍻- For something bad/mischievous you did as a child or teen that your parents don’t know about

🌜- For a ‘weird’ habit or tic that no one knows about

💃- For a talent that they like to keep hidden from others

🏹- For a talent they wish they had

👻- For something that scares or disturbs them, but they refuse to tell anyone

☢️- For a controversy or scandal they have been able to keep mostly under wraps

🐇- For a secret item they keep (stuffed animal, comfort object, etc)

📒- For a secret journal/diary they keep (Bonus: Share an entry from it!)

📔- For a secret sketchbook they keep (Bonus: Share a sketch or doodle within it!)

🖤- For something they secretly wish they could do with your muse

❓- Free Space! Ask them about a specific secret!

[tronlived]

"Tron, I need you to do something for me..."

"Yes, Alan One. Anything."

[tronlived]

Did that garbage know?

Did he know how much of an honor it was to be at his User’s side?

Did he know enough to realize that such insubordination was blasphemy? It would get any Program divinely derezzed.

And “Jet” managed to get away with it. Repeatedly.

Out There.

This latest communication... that was the last straw. This had only been the most recent of Alan One’s cries for help.

Tron had the vaguest idea of who “Roy” was, but he knew “Roy” was nowhere near as devoted to helping Alan One as Tron himself was.

Tron wanted to help.

He needed to help.

But how? Even if Programs could initiate communications regularly, Alan One had made it a point to put Tron in stasis. How blasphemous would it be for him to suddenly reappear?

You don’t want me... but the one you want... doesn’t want you... It’s not fair...

“After all I’ve done for him, he still wants to have nothing to do with me.”

If “Jet” wanted nothing to do with his User... then he didn’t deserve to have his User.

Simple as that.

---

When Alan returned to his workstation after taking his new ID photo, he would find a reply from Roy:

Did some research on it a while back and came up with some pointers. Let’s chat in the laser bay at 3:30.

- Roy

Adimere (2.0 AU; Alan)

[tronlived]

askbeckandpaige

Ram’s eyes widened at the confirmation of his voice. “It is you.” He said softly, then hurried forward, closing the distance between them. He paused before actually touching Tron, though. His old friend was tense, hesitating. And he knew why. Every program knew either through experience or through stories all that Tron had done.

Still, this was his friend. A program who had protected him, listened to his jokes and rambles, debatedly even loved him. And that was all that mattered to him.

He couldn’t stop himself from smiling. “It is you! You made it, Tron!” Then he hugged him.

Endless possibilities flashed before his eyes as Ram ran up to him.

Run? Run? Run?

But before Tron could make his getaway, Ram stopped in front of him, almost as if knowing that if he were to take just one more step, Tron would have bolted. That… wasn’t hostility. Or was it? Had he already expected Tron to have run away by now?

But Ram grabbed… no, hugged him.

The contact alone almost made him run, but he saw Ram’s smile. He smiled at Tron as if nothing had happened, as if they were still in adjacent cells on the Game Grid and he was excitedly rambling on about something or other out of the Reds’ earshot.

As if nothing had happened.

He wanted to believe that’s how everyone would act here: as if nothing had happened. No Flynn, no Grid…

But he refused to let his guard down.

Still, he gave Ram a stiff, awkward hug back, desperately wanting to put his full energy into the reunion with his long lost friend but knowing deep down it was impossible.

At some point, he’d have to run.

"It's been a long time, hasn't it?" (Beck; heaven)

He had been waiting at the gate. He knew who was coming, and when the program was in sight, a warm smile grew. The warmth reached his eyes and they glowed, a rare sight while the program had been living, especially in his last cycles. 

His being was dressed in white, the white of Tron and the Renegade as he forced himself to remain where he was as his mentor, the warrior of the Grid approached him at last. 

He nodded at the question, now allowing himself to take a couple steps forward to meet his mentor. “It has.” 

[tronlived]

Angy

[tronlived]

Was his objective to secure the “gold” or to neutralize his opponent?

Tron didn’t seem like he was lost in thought trying to clear up that part of the “game”, but it persisted in the back of his mind more and more with each silent step.

In theory, he could simply head toward where the “gold” had been placed and acquire it for himself, thus preventing Alan One from getting it and ending the “game”. But Alan One had made it very clear that the pursuit was an important factor, so was Alan One the target instead?

But if he focused all his energy on neutralizing Alan One, the focus of the “gold” would be lost, and it would be possible that he’d be seen as “too harsh”, especially since this was clearly meant to be a recreational activity. Would he be taking it too seriously if he designated Alan One as the target? Or not seriously enough?

These thoughts permeated more than ever as he found himself at the area they’d designated to be the “bank”, where he knew the “gold” was. He could abandon the pursuit and head directly for the “gold” to protect it, or keep up the pursuit, let Alan One get to the “gold” first, and then neutralize him from there.

He could either take a defensive or offensive approach.

He could either unintentionally lead Alan One to his own target, or he could prolong the pursuit and the “game” overall.

In which scenario would he better utilize his true function?

With this in mind, Tron made his way toward the area where the “gold” was hidden.

From what he noticed of the small User, Alan One was clearly lost, which definitely bought him some time to think.

Baby's Breath! Age 5

Baby’s Breath: Muse is now a child for 12 hours. Anon decides the age.-

- - -

Alan stretches and yawns. He blinks and looks around. The room looks the same, except that it seems much bigger than he remembers. He noticed his bed seems much bigger than he remembers. What’s going on? Why does my room look like this? He then notices his much-smaller features. Alarmed, Alan leaps out of bed, only to find the floor is much farther than he remembered. 

“Oof!” Alan lands on his face with a small thump. He picks himself up and realizes that he doesn’t know where his trusty blanket is. Panicking, he starts searching frantically for it. He peers up onto the bed, but doesn’t see it. He looks beneath the bed, but still no blanket. He checks all around the room, including sifting through the rest of his bedding, but the blanket appears to be gone. NO! It CAN’T be gone! Mamma and Daddy can’t get rid of it! Alan raced out of the room in search of his parents. Perhaps maybe /they/ could tell him where his blanket went.

[tronlived]

Tron nodded, focused on his User’s instructions, and took a small sip of the not-Energy.

Did it go down easier? Yes.

Did it taste better?

... No.

But he still refused to complain. He sipped, took a few deep breaths, and then sipped again until the glass was empty.

And his chest hurt.

Every deep, focused breath made his chest sting even more. It was like the Energy numbing his wounds had no effect here. Which, of course, made sense because nothing he knew from the Grid--or any System, in fact--applied here.

He winced at the pain every once in a while but still made no complaint.

I smile warmly at my program and extend my hand invitingly, "Tron, it's time to come home. You have served me well and now you will be rewarded.."

Tron didn’t know what to think. He had a feeling he knew what Alan One was talking about, but… he couldn’t be sure. He was hesitant at first, but then he smiled and bowed his head. If it was what he thought it was… Tron had forgotten everything he had prepared for this moment.

“Thank you,” he muttered, and he took Alan One’s hand.

[tronlived]

systemadministratorclu

Clu heard Tron’s speech. But he heard it directed at him, in Flynn’s voice, saying yes he could do all that. And Clu meant nothing.

The weight of it al sent him crumpling to the ground, to his knees. his hands shooting out to catch him. His eyes stung with tears, and before he could stop them, they escaped. Right in front of his User, who would no doubt “give him something to cry about. BUt before he did, Clu managed to squeak out the question he wanted to know.

“Why, User? Why do you hate me so much? Why do you do these things to me?”

Tron glared at Flynn.

“Well?” he added. “He asked you a question.”

“I... I...”

“Talk!”

“I... I... I...”

“Answer the question!”

“I... I didn’t think it was...”

“A big deal?” Tron finished for him. “You didn’t think it was a big deal? That you hurt him like this?”

“I was going through some stuff,” Flynn stammered. “I needed to, y’know, let off some steam. You’d do the same, y’know?”

He tried to make it sound so... innocent. Like that was something everyone did.

“No, actually, I wouldn’t.” He hesitated. “No, I take that back. I’m doing it right now. I had the urge to do it a lot and much sooner--you of all people know that I’m ‘going through some stuff’ just as much as you are--and yet, all those times, I managed to control myself, and I don’t let it turn me into the thing we both hate most. Or, at least, the thing I hate most now. A bully.”

“Oh, come on, that’s a little extreme, don’t you--?”

“You think it’s extreme? He doesn’t think it’s extreme.” He gestured toward CLU. “That’s his reality, and if it’s not yours yet, it’s about to be. Because guess what? I have some steam to let off, too. A lot of steam.”

stab(caesar) - [systemadministratorclu]

He was livid.

He disguised his silent fury as steely determination which, for any other Program, would have been impressive, except that he was more than accustomed to remaining stoic in times like this. Times when his emotions--and opinion--would have caused a stir.

His friend... his best friend... would not do that.

He wouldn’t. There must have been some mistake. After all, they did look identical...

But he’d seen it with his own eyes. He’d watched it happen in real time, albeit safely undetected from a remote location. The cameras he’d secretly put up throughout Tron Tower... they didn’t lie.

They showed him... a whole other side to Flynn that the User never let him see.

Tron never fully believed CLU’s accusations of Flynn abusing him, even after he’d seen the admin’s wounds and scars with his own eyes. Part of him refused to comprehend that the User, his best friend, who had saved the ENCOM System from the MCP and had such huge aspirations for creating a “digital paradise”, would do... this.

No... Tron was fully aware that Flynn was capable of something like this. He’d never explained to CLU exactly why--even given what he’d been through himself, CLU would never truly understand--but there was a lingering gut feeling that Flynn’s “benevolent User” nature was nothing but a ruse transparent to only a select few.

And those few... who would believe them?

But when concrete evidence appeared before his very eyes, Tron knew something had to be done.

“This,” he’d told CLU when they’d met in private after the incident, “ends here.”

Under any other circumstances, he would dismiss it. He wouldn’t be able to work up the courage to say something, in fear of disturbing the peace or drawing unnecessary attention to himself. He would bow his head and accept things as they were.

This time, though?

This time...

He glanced down at Flynn beside him, blissfully unaware of what was about to unfold. Another one of his brief visits to the Grid was about to conclude, and Tron was escorting Flynn back to the Portal so he could return to that mysterious World from which he’d first come.

Tron’s expression hardly changed as they arrived at the rendezvous point.

[tronlived]

[[So I actually have a fun arcade story about this kind of thing, and I absolutely love talking about this experience because I remember it confused me and blew my mind so much at the time.

Back in late 2017, we’d gone to Dave and Buster’s (so the “specialty” game machines are nowhere near, say, Disneyland quality) the night before a big Christmas trip, and I wanted to try one of those big “high immersion” chamber, pseudo-VR games. The ones that look like a giant bubble. It was a flight simulator, as many of them were at the time, and I thought it looked pretty cool so I wanted to give it a shot.

I waited for the previous kid (whose attempt I’d watched over his shoulder, so I knew how the game was SUPPOSED to be run) to be done with his game, and I stepped into the chamber.

But what I didn’t realize at the time was that after I’d scanned my “Power Card” to be able to play the machine... it randomly decided to reboot.

Now, on the surface, that doesn’t seem like too big a deal, but note that this was the first time (at least, that I could remember) I’d actually played one of these kinds of games. So on top of the shock of the sudden reboot, I was feeling additionally overwhelmed by the setup itself and the underlying claustrophobia that came with it. It was just a big mess of confusion.

So I was sitting in that small chamber, rattled out of my mind, while for what felt like five entire minutes, I had a full 180-degree IMAX-quality experience of a Windows 7 computer booting up.

Proof:

Panoramic image:

Close-up:

And at this point, I bet you’re wondering: Did I ever get to play the freakin’ game?!?!

No. No, I did not. The dumb thing never loaded. So after a few more minutes, I awkwardly slipped out and moved on.

I still think I got my money’s worth, though.]]

[tronlived]

[[so I was tagged by @user-alan​ and I figured y’know why not

Difficult Person Test

So going in chronological order:

82!Tron:

He’s incredibly humble, incredibly modest, and generally easy to get along with, although he’s a little stubborn at times.

Betrayal!Tron:

A little more untrusting, a little more on edge. But he still has some of his old self left.

U!Tron:

... What else is new?

I tag: Anyone else who wants to, IDK

[tronlived]

Tron gave CLU a small smile over his shoulder.

“He won’t be,” he whispered back, “but in the end, that’s his decision.”

Seeing the fear in CLU’s eyes, though... the apprehension, even when Flynn was safely tied up... that gave him even more strength.

“The Game Grid,” he started, approaching Flynn until he was practically standing over his prone form. “Do you remember that place?”

“Of course I do!” Flynn blurted out. “I-It’s where we met!”

“That’s right. You, me, and Ram. You remember him?”

“O-Of course.”

“Really? You do? Because it doesn’t look like you do. Because it doesn’t look like you remember anything from what we went through together. Not one thing, other than some shiny lights and the fact that you can create Programs solely to do your bidding and for you to push around however you like. You can just yell at them and spit on them and beat them as much as you want because they’re just expendable, is that right? They don’t mean anything to you?”

Without waiting for a response, he continued, “You think I haven’t been paying attention? You think I don’t know what you’ve been doing? Up until now, you’ve taken full advantage of the fact that I don’t say anything. I look the other way. I let it slide. Questionable design choices. Deliberate misinterpretations of the lessons you were supposed to have learned. That’s all fine. Just... cultural misunderstanding, that’s all. But this? This?”

“What are you talking about?” Flynn cut in. “I never did anything like that!”

“I have video evidence that proves otherwise,” Tron replied. “And on the same token, how dare you make that claim when CLU is standing right here? You think he got those scars and bruises tripping down the stairs? You look him in the eye and tell him that he imagined everything you did to him. Tell him you have no idea what I’m talking about, tell him you didn’t do anything like that. And while you’re at it, look me in the eye and call me all the things you call him. Do it to my face. Call Ram all those things, too. Call him all those things as he derezzes in your arms because, apparently, we’re all the same to you!”

stab(caesar) - [systemadministratorclu]

He was livid.

He disguised his silent fury as steely determination which, for any other Program, would have been impressive, except that he was more than accustomed to remaining stoic in times like this. Times when his emotions–and opinion–would have caused a stir.

His friend… his best friend… would not do that.

He wouldn’t. There must have been some mistake. After all, they did look identical…

But he’d seen it with his own eyes. He’d watched it happen in real time, albeit safely undetected from a remote location. The cameras he’d secretly put up throughout Tron Tower… they didn’t lie.

They showed him… a whole other side to Flynn that the User never let him see.

Tron never fully believed CLU’s accusations of Flynn abusing him, even after he’d seen the admin’s wounds and scars with his own eyes. Part of him refused to comprehend that the User, his best friend, who had saved the ENCOM System from the MCP and had such huge aspirations for creating a “digital paradise”, would do… this.

No… Tron was fully aware that Flynn was capable of something like this. He’d never explained to CLU exactly why–even given what he’d been through himself, CLU would never truly understand–but there was a lingering gut feeling that Flynn’s “benevolent User” nature was nothing but a ruse transparent to only a select few.

And those few… who would believe them?

But when concrete evidence appeared before his very eyes, Tron knew something had to be done.

“This,” he’d told CLU when they’d met in private after the incident, “ends here.”

Under any other circumstances, he would dismiss it. He wouldn’t be able to work up the courage to say something, in fear of disturbing the peace or drawing unnecessary attention to himself. He would bow his head and accept things as they were.

This time, though?

This time…

He glanced down at Flynn beside him, blissfully unaware of what was about to unfold. Another one of his brief visits to the Grid was about to conclude, and Tron was escorting Flynn back to the Portal so he could return to that mysterious World from which he’d first come.

Tron’s expression hardly changed as they arrived at the rendezvous point.

[tronlived]

That voice... He hadn’t heard it in so long...

It’d seemed like several lifetimes since he’d heard Ram’s voice. In another time, in another System... It was a pleasant surprise, but Tron knew he should have expected this. He hadn’t thought about Ram in so long, and that in itself seemed like a crime against him. That perky actuarial from the cell next to him on the Game Grid, the one who’d nearly escaped with him and Flynn...

“Hi, Ram,” he cautiously offered, giving his old friend a small wave while still keeping his arms close to his chest. He made sure to keep his distance in case Ram or someone else would turn hostile, and he subtly adjusted his posture so if he needed to make a quick getaway, he’d have a decent head start.

"It's been a long time, hasn't it?" (Beck; heaven)

He had been waiting at the gate. He knew who was coming, and when the program was in sight, a warm smile grew. The warmth reached his eyes and they glowed, a rare sight while the program had been living, especially in his last cycles. 

His being was dressed in white, the white of Tron and the Renegade as he forced himself to remain where he was as his mentor, the warrior of the Grid approached him at last. 

He nodded at the question, now allowing himself to take a couple steps forward to meet his mentor. “It has.” 

[tronlived]

Tron took a few moments to catch his breath. He felt his eyes water as well, but he ignored it.

“Yes. I’m fine,” he simply replied. After a few more breaths, he added, “Thank you.”

He stared down at the object on the plate in front of him. He also noticed a similar setup on Alan One’s side of the table. Not knowing what else to do, he kept his head bowed, awaiting further instructions.

I smile warmly at my program and extend my hand invitingly, "Tron, it's time to come home. You have served me well and now you will be rewarded.."

Tron didn’t know what to think. He had a feeling he knew what Alan One was talking about, but… he couldn’t be sure. He was hesitant at first, but then he smiled and bowed his head. If it was what he thought it was… Tron had forgotten everything he had prepared for this moment.

“Thank you,” he muttered, and he took Alan One’s hand.

[tronlived]