Every aching old machine will feel no pain [OPEN]

[futilecycle]

WHO | Sigma and You!
WHAT | The old man is injured and tries to hide himself before he becomes an easy target. Sponsor parachutes flying to places don't make that any easier...
WHEN | Sunset of the First Day of the Arena.
WHERE | Wandering Fantasyland
WARNINGS/NOTES | Sigma's powers will be activated, so if you want to get violent then check that out first please!


It was a perfect picture of home.

Rusted rides, overturned carousels, weathered murals and bright, childish colours perverted by dirt and grime. The park had been neglected and eventually fell into obscurity, just as it had on his Earth. With only a handful of surviving humans, scattered sparsely around the world, did anyone dare remember Disneyland - a happier time when children were innocent?

California had been his home state, and though with a broken rib and sprained ankle it was hardly an appropriate time to reminisce, Sigma felt slightly nostalgic. How old had he been the last time he'd come here? Twelve? Thirteen? An enthusiastic child, he'd pestered his mother to take him again at every opportunity. But then High School hit, then University, and then the apocalypse. Only as an old man did he have his chance to return...

He thought Kyle would have loved it.

Propping himself against a fence to stagger forward, he moaned as he stumbled over cracked cobblestones, his injured ankle giving him trouble. Eventually when the pain in his chest became too overwhelming to even breathe, Sigma ducked into a shop and sat down against a counter, a poor hiding place.

His side aching and his costume soaked with Donatello's blood, Sigma fell nauseous. There was no way he'd have the strength to seek Kyle out on his own.. it would have to wait until morning.

If he could survive until morning...

Needing a better place to spend the oncoming night, he was halfway inside an artificial building near what had once been the Peter Pan ride when he noticed the familiar blips and blinking of a Sponsor Gift lodged in a balcony above him. Sigma froze in terror; he'd clearly made an impression at the Cornucopia, but the parachute threatened to give away his new hiding spot. Sigma gritted his teeth, how could he climb up there in his condition? Still, he had no choice but to go after it...

Comments

oh god this is long i'm sorry!

[amplifying]

When did this place end...? Beck had been wandering around for what seemed like ages now.

He couldn't even tell what time it was. Tron hadn't gone into much depth about the user world, and he could certainly understand why. Because why would he need to know anything about it? Beck was training to become the next Tron, and he needed to know how to protect the Grid first before anything else. Extra information about who the most important users were (other than Flynn) and how they operated was something that could wait when he was well and ready. The sky was growing darker, which...meant the beginning a new Cycle, maybe? Things were always dark in Argon. It was weird to see things go from unusually bright to normally dark.

He was stumbling into a place that was...also different. Things looked out of date: the equipment was old and rusted and dented, and the ground was dirty and unkept. The grass and things outside were wild and out of control, and the colors were dull and muted. But things looked like they were supposed to be so cheery here. Beck almost had the feeling that something bad had happened here, but he couldn't put his finger on what.

A moan from not too far away caught his attention. Curious, the program started to move forward towards the source, but as quietly as he could. He didn't know much about what was going on, but people were put in this Arena to kill him, and each other. Every step he took, every breath he breathed with his user body, people were watching, waiting to see what he would do.

But he didn't like it (and who did?)

He heard another noise, coming from a building nearby. Against better judgement, Beck started to move in a little closer. The inside of the building was littered with old metal and debris, and it made walking around quietly more difficult than it should be. But this didn't stop him as he continued forward...only to find someone staggering around inside.

The person was reaching for something rather high, and he seemed to be having quite a hard time trying to get it down. Beck wanted to help him grab the thing he was reaching for at least, but how could he trust anyone here? It was like the Games in Argon all over, where the only program you could really trust were those on your team. But nobody was on his team now.

Maybe he should move on. Beck started to move through the dark, feeling guilty for just leaving the guy struggling behind...until he felt his foot settle on a prop. It cracked beneath him, and in an attempt to move his weight off of it, Beck stumbled to the side and stepped on even more of them. He glanced up to the person, his user heart suddenly skipping a beat...

No problem! Sorry I'm late!

[futilecycle]

Sigma had begun his careful climb towards the Gift when he heard the prop break- it startled him so horridly he immediately he released his grip on the wall, falling to the floor. He gave a cry as his feet struck the ground, and his bad leg buckled beneath him. Despite the pain, adrenaline kept him moving, and he spun to face the intruder. A strong, healthy young man, it seemed - Sigma wondered if he would die here. His eye darted to his route of escape, prepared to run though he knew he could not - he hesitated, waiting for the other man to act first. The Doctor was covered in blood clearly not his, and he hoped that wordless threat would save him now. Perhaps... perhaps the Tribute would still walk away... Dr. Klim's expression twisted into panic and desperatation.

Sigma had always prided himself on his ability to retain his humanity against impossible odds. But inches from death and with a son to protect, he was now closer to a shaking, cornered animal than a man.

Naaah, no worries!

[amplifying]

Beck could only watch as the man tumbled to the floor after he had stepped on the prop, cringing as the leg bucked beneath him at the landing. But despite that, the man got to his feet, and spun around to face him.

He was surprised by what he saw. The guy looked...rather old, I guess the proper word would be. In the Grid, program never truly showed signs of aging. You only gained wrinkles and scars if you were corrupted, or there was an error in your coding somewhere. Beck was a little more puzzled over the man's appearance than he should have been, especially in a situation like this (not to mention his eye or anything. That was also pretty attention-catching).

So there the other guy was- stark still, and covered in blood. Beck didn't know what to do, he didn't know really anything about this place. Should he run? Should he help? The people wanted him to kill; whoever was watching now probably thought that this could be more than easy for either of them. But he couldn't kill. He couldn't do anything like that.

Beck raised his arms into the air, carefully watching the other man. "Do you need help?"

[futilecycle]

Sigma flinches when Beck begins to raise his arms, his legs twitch with a readiness to run... And then looks surprised. This young man wasn't going to kill him after all? Dr. Klim's expression becomes troubled.

Slowly and attentive to his injured ankle, he straightens up, still staring at the other man intensely. This could merely be an act to get his guard down. "I will be fine," he says quickly, "Sooner or later. What is it you want?"

[amplifying]

Beck watched carefully as the User gained his footing back. He knew nothing of Users and what made a User's body fully function, but he could recognize an injury just as easily as he would with a Program. No wonder why he had been so jumpy before.

It probably wasn't a good idea to let his guard down. But if this User had an injured leg...what could he do all that quickly? Beck was far enough that he could dodge anything thrown at him. He certainly had the advantage here, but it wasn't one that he intended to use. "I don't want anything." Beck kept his hands in the air, looking the User straight in the eyes...eye. His answer was confident; he really didn't want anything at all.

"I didn't mean to bother you. I was just trying to find shelter for the cycle."

[futilecycle]

Sigma's doubtful eye watched Beck for a moment longer before he broke eye contact with a sigh. The shock beginning to wear off, Sigma had no choice but to believe him.

"...I see. You... You may have this space if you wish. First, I must get that canister before it gets us killed, if you do not mind..."

The damn thing was still beeping rather loudly. Sigma twisted around to look up at the device, to think of how he could best get back up there, but his freshly damaged leg prevented him from completing the turn. At his limit, he collapsed against the wall and hissed with pain, blood rushing to his injured leg, every heartbeat making it more agonizing. It looked as though he wasn't going anywhere for awhile, and he flashed the other Tribute an apologetic look. Perhaps it was best if Beck fled and saved his own life before the others came for the sponsor item...

[amplifying]

That confused Beck a little, at first..."Space? I don't want any space..."

He looked up to the beeping thing at the top, before Sigma turned to glance at its direction. Even though Beck would have rather been a little closer to him to help him go along, he stayed behind for safety's sake, biting his lip as the User eventually collapsed.

Maybe running would be the best idea, especially considering the conditions of these Games. But...

"Hold on. Maybe I can get it for you." Beck gave him a smile before walking his way up, and climbing his way up the wall to the beeping thing above him. Just a few minutes later he held the little silver object in his hand, and lowered it to the injured User below him. "I'm guessing that's yours, right?"