Difference between revisions of "Dive Into The Heart: Deelel"

Revision as of 10:14, 2 February 2013

Faruja Senra has posed:
The fuzzy, disoriented feeling of a person rising from slumber enters into your being. It may even be an utterly unfamiliar one for a non-organic. Whatever the feelings this stirs, however, may be nothing next to another realization.

Water and darkness surround and fill Deelel's senses. All around there is nothing but chill, and inky black, soul-sucking in its intensity. Everything is muted, perhaps even distant sounding as waves lap at heels and face. Down into the blackness do you fall as gravity overtakes you and buoyancy ends.

A spark, somehow both near and far, flares into existance. Gentle, it calls to you, radiant in its glory amidst the cold and wet. The water breathes easily, should a Program even need such. Closer, then closer to the light. Salvation amidst the darkness.

A platform touches the Program's feet upon meeting the Light. Stained glass, unyielding despite the seeming fragility of the stuff, supports Deel. Images, of King Mickey in the center, keyblade held proudly high, a duck, a dog-man. Beauty and artistry, all beneath the Media Program's toes.

The utter silence breaks. A familiar voice fills the air, calm.

"So much yet to be accomplished." The voice states.

"A long and treacherous road before thee."

Deelel has posed:
Deelel sleeps again, she's becoming afraid to, she's had dreams before but her dreams in user space have become more complex and more terrfying but she needs to well. She needs the down cycles and with hestation she's does so once more. She seems to be well confused there's a pang of terror over the water. Given it's nature on her world, meaning its' to die. Even with well? She's understand in user space but ... here something is wrong she's being draggesd down into the gravity she can't move she can't right it down she goes for all her efforts to get lose then she finally lands on something. She looks about confused, suprised and she see someone there. She stan stand she sees Mickey for a moment.

She remebers the King, he's a good man, a User that fought for the sake of others. She'd last heard of him saving some of those people trapped in the dying world of manhattan.

She takes in everything and the basic seems suprised now she looks about looking at the weapon, it's user some more.

"I do have much to do...my creators are at risk along with my own kind."

The comment about the road is a bit sprising but nothing's ever easy now is it? A basic trying to fit into a new function was not unheard of but very rare without users doing something to theri code...

Faruja Senra has posed:
Against the terror of the water, so deadly in Deelel's world, the utter tranquility stands that much more noticable upon the stained glass platform. A small sound of acceptance, tinged with sorrow fills the room for a brief moment. Silence returns, that of a Temple, or of a soul in meditation. Down cycles endless, yet somehow not wasted. That which to a User is known as dreaming.

"Deelel." Comes the voice again, seemingly from every direction at once. The platform shakes as pedestals impossibly rise from the glass. Upon them rest sword, shield, and staff, bearing the mark of the great King Mickey.

"Within the well of thy soul lies power." Comes the voice.

"If you but bequeath it form..."

"From it shall flow strength into thy hands."

Deelel has posed:
Deelel is then pulled into the water again but she's finding she's unharmed the terror is fading of it, if it could harm her she'd be derezzed by this point wouldn't she. Now she's somewhere else she's never considered down cycles to be waste it was something needed. She hears her name and looks about, she looks at the trio of tools. These were very old technology she understood to the point they'd become symbols for things in the mind set of her creators.

She knows the staff tends to be associate with wisdom at least she thinks, the Shied is something known to her people in some form as a protection device, and the sword was a weapon. All were tools as she thinks about it she knows there may not be time but soul? That's a thought that's always had her wonder. User souls exist she's seen Hades, she knows what he does? She doesn't know what happens to her kind when they are drezzed. She doesn't think about it too long she can't do anything about it so why worry? She walks towards the three items looking intently at them as she starts to realize this is imporantly. She doesn't know why but she knows the choice here she picks is important.

The game grid, the cells, the terror of being told she had to fight and others were left to fight. The pits all the death there. The escape the hope the surviving gladiators making a run for it.

What drove her to seek a way to another system. The basics were suffering she had to do something. To stay was to be derezzed. Tron was still out there fighting she'd heard of the one who fought for the users and the other basics.

The chase to get out the escape, the alien world of the things that birthed her. Memories of the people she's met and the things she's seen, the sun, the sun rise, the sun set, cities of steel and stone, music like she'd never heard before.

Other memories comes towards the dark night LEXUS offered her a deal a deal to save her self, to continue her function in peace but the cost? Was the entire grid. Something changed in her that night she refused to run knowing it would be her end, she fought, she fought without ever pausing she recalls losing the pain of having to cut part of herself off to prevent herself from being consumed mind, body and soul. She was broken she looked up she remember the strange thing was while she was scared , she knew hope wasn't dead. TRON lives. That was the last thing she thought she'd say.

Then she met TRON she never thought it would happen. He helped her find her way as she strained on the nature of her function and her choices. The Chaos of user space she'd been helped to find her way. With that memory, she knows what she needs to do, she's a fighter but it's not out of a desire to destroy, she has no head for the nature of magic other than accepting it as a force of the universe at large. She reaches out and grabs the Shield.

Faruja Senra has posed:
Terror, pain, sorrow, fear...all of the tragedy and horror the Media Program has felt would seem both intimate, yet warded away as she took hold of the Shield before her. Warmth, strength, courage and hope bolsters the spirit and wards away the lingering chill of the water.

The voice holds hints of amusement, and pride as it speaks. "The Guardian." It begins, pausing dramatically.

"Kindness to thy comrades and those whom you hold dear within your heart."

"A shield to ward all whom oppose."

A wave disperses upon the front of the shield. For all of the visible impact, nothing is felt, impossible power breaking and folding around the well-crafted defensive bulwark in Deelel's hand. It is a meager thing by appearance. Yet upon it's front, nothing may penetrate. Protection of body, mind, and soul.

"Doth this be the path of thy desire, M'Lady Deel?" Though warm, finality rings in that familiar voice. Last chance. This road only leads forward.

Deelel has posed:
Basics could feel, that was one thing clear, the emotional range was not known but it would be hard to tell most of the time. Not many had keyed into her artfical nature but is this a dream it's orderly it has a purpose. Not that her dreams did not have a purpose but there was quite the order to it as th question is asked with some hint of amusment. There's something about the function that is spoke that makes sense to ehr. She has made up her mind, she knows this as she lookks at it. It's a work of art in it's own right there's no real other way to go about it.

"Yes the Guardian is the path I desire. To mend and defend."

Faruja Senra has posed:
"Thy choice is made!" Responds the voice. It fills the air, a proclaimation of utter truth.

The voice softens, care and friendship lingering. "You shall trod upon thy path with the stalwart heart of a Protector, though it may be filled with thorns."

A pedestal shatters, fading away into non-existance. Only two remain, that of sword and that of staff, of warrior and mystic, courage and wisdom. In the darkness, each shines, neither greater than the other. Though silent, each call to Deel in earnest.

Take me. Wield me. Bring me into your heart.

"However," begins the voice, eloquent and strong. "With strength and power come loss and sacrifice. Which shall you cast aside?"

Images of those lost, basic and otherwise, within the Games flash before the Program's consciousness. Reminders of old events, painful lessons.

Deelel has posed:
Deelel isn't suprised abotu this choice you can't get something for nothing after all. The basic looks on aws she listens to the voice she seems to be paying very close attention to it. She looks at the remaining two, she was a pit fighter, not by choice she knows how to fight. She's young though and images come the other basics in the pit. Many didn't make it, so many didn't make it to the day Yuri busted the surivors out.

The arcad memroies of realising he'd got the server anyway and she was about to be consumed.

Having to make a deal with the Shinra for contiuned access to the grid.

The fall of Manhattan the final look out the gate as the world it self was consumed the understanding that every system in the city was going up with their users. How many users had been consumed the number of basics was even higher...

She neded her courage she goes to the staff and she throes it side giving it up.

She understand about taking it wielding it? But what she's no sure but sometimes as she's accepted it takes time to understand this is not a binary universe she's in after all.

Faruja Senra has posed:
The staff is flung aside, flitting through the air. Time seems to slow as it approaches the 'ground', spinning slower and slower.

"The power of the mystic." Comments the voice.

"Strength within."

"A staff of wonder, and yet utter ruin."

Crack. The head of the staff impacts stained glass. Slowly, the cracks spread, all the way to where Deelel stands. Shattering, glass shards surround Deelel as she falls once more into cold, unfeeling Abyss. Whispered words follow. "'Tis the power you forfeit."

A swift fall slows, the Program caught by another lit platform of stained glass. Upon the surface are faces, all familiar. At the center, in vivid white and black and red, as perfect as the greatest of any Media Program's creations, is the face of Faruja frozen in contemplation. Smaller faces, of the Grid: Yurita, the great hero Tron, and more can be seen. Close comrades and legends of her own blighted world. So too are there the faces of those Users whom the Program has befriended along he way. The adventurer Reize, the charming Ivo, the creative Isaac. Ominously, old enemies, LEXUS and the MCP upon darkened glass.

"Once set upon this path, never shall you leave it until derezzed. All about may seem as darkness and fell chill. Never stray, never falter Lady Deelel. Turn thy gaze upon blessed Light!"

The shadows upon the light of the glass gather. Small heartless rise up, yellow eyes filled with hunger and desperation. Foward they march, mouths gnashing.

"Oft shall thy be called upon to draw thy weapon. Never must you forget!" That shield, light yet impossibly strong, reappears in Deelel's hand.

Deelel has posed:
Deelel looks at what she must give up, she has no choice this a binary situation and she understandf this well. Well not no choice but it's one or zero. She is sad to watch such a thing be reduced to dust but she made a chouice one she can live with. She starts to fall but she's catching again she pauses looking at the stain glass she's seen a little of the art of it's type before but nothing like this. She looks, she at it takes it in it's pretyt but there's things she fears know she'll fight.

"I undersstand."

She looks at the heartless and she shield is in hand she knows what a sentry can do with a blunt weapon, or even her allies in user space. She dives into the pack of the heartless and starts to fight striking out trying to strike them down oddly she doesn't even think to go for her ID disk...

Faruja Senra has posed:
The Heartless are wheat to the scythe, as nothing before the power of the shield. As each one falls, seemingly innumerable yet insignificant, they do not simply fade into puffs of shadow. Instead, tiny hearts fly to the heavens as they perish, with each one gone hope filling the air. It may seem but mere moments as the final heartless is destroyed.

An easy victory. The calm before the storm. Voice cutting into the air, Faruja speaks, grave and stern.

"Never forget, that when one stands before the Light..."

Before Deelel, a shadow rises, looming tall and terrible. Worse than it's great height is its presence, that of a great and ravenous beast, somehow familiar to her, with desires of nothing but to consume and devour. A spiked collar encircles its neck, chains leading up to a figure riding the horrific Heartless. Control and power in an unassuming form. The MCP, staring down imperiously, as if the mere Media Program were a mere bit before his greatness.

Up the beast rises upon its back legs, screams issuing from its gnashing jaws. Just below where its feet would land, a figure writhes in pain, cowers in terror. One so very much like Deelel herself. A person that was the center of, and the cause, of her being.

"...the greater thy shadow looms."

With a mighty roar, the beast's clawed feet and great bulk descend. Half way, a horrified look upon the comparatively tiny User's face, time halts.

A warm hand rests upon Deelel's shoulder, squeezing lightly. Claws lightly prick, almost chiding as a smaller form supports with strength greater than his size. The flickering, ghostly form of Faruja offers his strength to the Program with a concerned look as his single red eye gazes. It keenly burrows into the soul, but not unkindly.

"This is the choice you must make, Lady Deel. Between utter terror, fear, the specter of derezment that grips the heart of the most brave and powerful of Programs...and sacrifice, martyrdom, the last glory of a protector of those whom have not the strength to lift a blade. Go on. What shall you do, hmm?"

A hand deftly flicks out a pocketwatch, the rat gazing upon its blank face.

"...I would not suggest hesitation. To dawdel in times such as these is the greatest shame of all." The watch is gone. Time starts, the beast falls, ready to trample the User.

Spear hefted, Faruja nods and tail flicks. A gesture of respect, one knight to another.

"Never shall you be alone. That, above all, is the greatest strength you possess."

Deelel has posed:
Deelel is seemingly aware of this the heartless are gong down fast the shield falls but she knows there's always more, there's always more she pauses at the hearts rising up and she wonders? Who knows about the natures of such things. She pauses turning about as the last heartless falls. She looks at the shadow that rises, she stares at it for a moment looking up at the MCP. Control, hunger, power, the MCP had wormed his hooks into the users world and now Black Guard walked the streets and no one really understood the threat he was. She's small she's always been small she knows this. Everything has an counter, good and evil. Light and the Dark> User and Basic. Organic and the inorganic. She pauses for a moment as a ghostly form of someone else appears a hand is on her shoulder. She looks at Faruja for a moment she's surprised she's not sure what to think as she's looked into. It be like someone was looking over her ID disk she does try to not take a step back.

She knows the choice she'd made long ago she had only her ID disk against something that had consumed the darkness and fused with it. Something that was a horror on it's own terms. He who hesitates is derezzed.

She knows the fight is about go go. She now nods slightly and replies.

"Let the Game begin."

The Basics then throws herself at the Knight launching into a series of heavy shield strikes and making use of her agility she's not one to ever sit still. She's moving about almost like she's dancing with how she moves? She has dispelled any illusion of being human no movements are wasted at this point.

Faruja Senra has posed:
A smirk comes to the rat's muzzle, dark amusement in his features. "So they shall, so they shall..."

Shield flashes, pounding the beast, warding it away from the cowering figure. Back, back, back! The MCP's mount gives ground, Light shimmering around the Shield, Deelel's inhuman agility causing the beast's claws to touch nothing but air. Finally, the hungry monster roars as it's driven off of the edge, falling into eternity. Impassive, the MCP falls wordlessly, the pair of Programs the only two in the area for one brief moment. This was merely the first battle.

A table sits before Deel, Faruja leaning on it heavily with an elbow, the proper and courtly Burmecian's hair down both figuratively and literally. He raises a glass. "A toast to thy victory. The first, or the last? Mmm. What a curious thing to consider." A second glass clinks, followed by a third should Deel raise hers. The shield is gone.

The User nods, draining her drink alongside Faruja. Giggling, she waves, walking off into the darkness. With a heavy sigh, the rat tosses aside his glass casually. Arms held clasped behind him, he walks to a glowing door that had not been there before. Opening it for the Lady Program. Light beckons.

"Shall we, M'Lady? Remember well these lessons. Never forget."

Deelel has posed:
Deelel she looks abotu a she keeps fighting she blocks the attack and she looks as the bes finally falls she pauses at the creature and the she then starts doen the MCP for a long moment is it the real MPC she's not sure what to think as he falls it can't be that easy can it? Something does hit her the other person wait who is it the form there's just a feeling an understanding Sara-42. She somehow just knows it's her user, the one who created her to create music and visual art. She does not hold anything back. Still as the battle ends she doesn't feel it's over, it's not over is it?

Still she's safe but why can't she make out her user it doesn't matter her user is here that's all that matters she watches her walk ioff but the laughing it sounds almost likes deelel, well save for the warble of the basic's voice.

"I won't forget these lessons, I never can let myself."

Deelel has posed:
The pod she sleeps isn isn't quite perfect compared to a proper one on the grid there's no comforting supension, no cables to hold her in place. She lacks the connection points in this world to do such but she's all right. Deelel boots back up and sees the hour she rolls over for amoment content to lay there, the dream was strange it ... she felt like there should be something heavy with her but it is not there a shield she's not sure but she's pretty sure the shiled is there. There's another feeling a strange comforting one like something she'd always wanted on some level she'd gotton not that she can figure out just what it is.