IC Contact for Inugami

[yorisearching]

Thank you for calling me. If you leave a message I will contact you as soon as I can.


[Maybe you should mention that Yori doesn't actually say her name to anyone calling.]

[Do you think she left it out on purpose?]



(Action also welcome.)

Comments

[yorisearching]

[The way Rinzler's glow went stronger still when she mentioned it is definitely more like Tron than anyone else. Even if the color feels wrong to her, what she can see of the pattern is Tron in every detail. Yori decides to take it as reassurance that when she guesses what Rinzler will do based on what Tron would do she is right about some of the foundation of his code.]

I remember the note that some people get back capabilities or appearance, but I wasn't sure it would apply to programs. It's good to see circuits again.

[Except he isn't Tron, and tracing the lines up his hand would be inappropriate for their new-formed friendship. Yori clings to the mental separation she needs, but she wraps her fingers a little tighter around his anyway.]

You can track people and scan for threats even in this world? Has it been helpful?

[notglitching]

[When his noise returned, Rinzler had been fairly certain about the rest. (Or had refused to process any uncertainties.) Still, if the brightness of his circuits doesn't signal satisfaction clearly enough, the expression on his face should do it.

There's a nod. Circuits and functions. He shifts down to a crouch, placing a hand on the ground to demonstrate, and faint footsteps trace themselves up from the ground. User-white, for the most part—though there's a red-orange tint to his own.

Helpful is hard to quantify—he hasn't had many assignments in the last six millicycles, much less ones detection could be pivotal for. Rinzler nods again anyway. Just being able to sense what's around him is a massive relief—he'd felt blind and glitched relying just on visuals. Rinzler brings up his phone to say as much... then freezes, stare fixed on the time.

Clu.]

Should go.

[He should have gone a while ago—should have been back where he was expected. He can't quite regret the lag completely, but that doesn't do anything to ease the sharp twist of disobedience tightening through his core.]

[yorisearching]

[The short demonstration makes Yori smile; the abrupt reminder of their time limit does not.]

All right.

[Even if Yori thought it were safe to argue the point with Clu somewhere in this same building, she can see it wouldn't do any good. The return of all the hard tension that had just begun to leave Rinzler's posture is an ache she can't quantify.]

I'll leave you a note in my locker tomorrow, okay?

[If it takes her all night to figure out something to put in it.

She would like a farewell hug for her own comfort, but that's asking too much of Rinzler. He's under too much pressure from his admin's presence; he barely knows her. Yori manages to abort the half-instinctive reach and folds her arms together instead.]

I promise to keep out of the way as much as I can. I'll try not to be in the cafeteria at the usual times.

[A much easier prospect than not knowing when she might see Rinzler again. She can stock up early and avoid the crowds at lunch, figure out a rotating schedule of quick visits in the evening.]

[notglitching]

[A nod to the first. Sensible to test the system. He'd check back when he could and confirm. Yori's second promise earns something closer to a stall, head dipping with as much guilt as acknowledgement. She shouldn't have to change her recharge cycles because of his failure with Clu.

Still, any attempt to argue or plan differently will take more time, and Rinzler recognizes the practicality of that decision, even if he hates it. He steps back, fingers curling in faintly around the phone as he glances down and almost stalls again. No. Not fair to say anything he didn't know would hold. A last, jerkier nod, and Rinzler steps back completely, slipping out of the room and closing the door behind him.]

[yorisearching]

[That quick flash of guilt pulls a near-instant response from somewhere that requires no processing.]

Not your fault.

[All the rest hangs, uncertain. If there were anything she could say that would break Rinzler free, she would say it regardless of price or cost. Yori fights her doubt and her own lightning calculations, unable to narrow down to any one thing to tell him. Has she said enough? What if he needs more and she hasn't given it to him? But what if she's increased the danger he's already in by saying too much?

Is there any goodbye that would be remotely adequate? No. But does that mean she can't give any at all?

The door closes. He's gone.]

Stay safe.

[A fierce whisper, a plea, an order. Yori doesn't believe Rinzler can hear the words.

Even if he did, it isn't Yori who commands him.]