Java Break

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Java Break
Date of Scene: 21 March 2013
Location: Traverse Town - District 1
Synopsis: CHIEF invites TRON to a small cafe for a chat. Explosions do not ensue.
Cast of Characters: CHIEF, TRON

CHIEF has posed:

CHIEF has had a rather good time. Things have been on the up and up really. Soon perhaps even getting better! The program was sitting at the outdoor cafe, with a mug of coffee and an apple on a napkin, as he seem to be just staring at the house structures around him.

People were also still staying away from him, but they seemed less leery of him. After what he did for Traverse Town, it may have slowly changed some people's opinions of him. Yet there were still some who would still re-frame from quick judgments that this villain could be a hero.

Yet there the military program sits for the world to see and with that almost clear, red visor covering over his gold eyes. The only thing perhaps keeping CHIEF in line.
TRON has posed:
TRON isn't sure what to expect. It's not CHIEF's fault, actually, but the last time he talked with CHIEF it... didn't go well. At all.

Couple that with a few other issues that have been gnawing at him as of late, and to say the Security Program is nervous would be an understatement.

He isn't hiding this time, at least not completely. He is in his black suit with the circuitry dots and dashes online in his form. Unless one knows his face and recognizes the itty-bitty 'T' at the base of his throat, it'd be difficult to put two-and-two together. The townsfolk have already become used to the appearances of Programs, thanks in no small part to DPS' activity, so nobody really notices him as he walks down the street searching for this small outdoor cafe.

Still, though, it's clear that he's the furthest opposite of relaxed, acting like he's completely out of his element for some reason or another.
CHIEF has posed:

As CHIEF spots TRON, he places up his hand an then waves to him, before he lets out a whistle, before he motions for him to come over. There was a grin on the military programs face, before he picks up the apple. "Come on over, the data-stream is fine!" He then barks in a laugh before then takes a bite of the apple.

It would seem CHIEF is adjusting to the 'user' way of things easily enough.
TRON has posed:
CHIEF's waving and single-note whistle catches TRON's attention, alright, a mix of surprise and apprehension settling on his face for a moment. Almost as if the thought of 'should I even be here' had crossed his mind.

Then CHIEF goes and breaks the tension with his comment, which immediately draws a rueful smile from TRON even as the Program picks up the pace to join CHIEF at the table.

He slips into a chair easily enough and his eyes flicker over the military Program's form to appraise his condition. "You seem to be doing well, CHIEF."
CHIEF has posed:

CHIEF grins a nice grin at TRON as the other program joins him. He gives a nod. "Yep. Doing rather well. Seems this thing is a rather good success." He taps the visor gently. "Eventually they will be moving it to be a less.. easily... destroyed object."

CHIEF then takes a bit of the apple again, chewing in thought, before he raises an eye brow. Once he swallows he points over at where all the stuff can be purchased. "Would you like anything, TRON?"
TRON has posed:
TRON nods, a weary smile uplifting his face for a moment. "I'm glad to hear it. I hope it continues to be a success."

His attention diverts towards the foodstand, his gaze scanning the menu for both drinks and food. Truth be told, he hasn't eaten in a while, and his circuitry lines look a little dim because of it. "I could definitely use the sustinance, yes." He cants his head slightly at CHIEF. "I take it you're offering?" Just to be sure, mind.
CHIEF has posed:

CHIEF gives TRON a nod. "Yes sir or I wouldn't be asking now would I?" The military program grins, before he places out some Munny to TRON on the table. "Get what you like, then maybe we can talk a bit longer with both of us having a drink."

The military program looks at the cup. "Cause I admit, its nice. Its nice to not worry about a itchy trigger finger waiting for the next prime target to fire at. To actually be so close now to some sense of.. being." CHIEF wanted to say freedom, but freedom didn't seem like the right word for this.
TRON has posed:
TRON cants his head to the side for a moment with a wry smile as if to indicate 'of course', scooping up the Munny from the tabletop. "Yes. I understand what you mean." He can't /relate/, not truly, but he can see where CHIEF is coming from. Just comparing CHIEF now to how he was the first time they met is already a vast improvement. "I will be right back, then."

Fortunately, there isn't a line over at the cashier, and TRON is quickly able to place an order: specifically, a spiced coffee with expresso and a ham-and-cheese sandwich. It takes a bit for the order to be made, since everything is made fresh and all.
CHIEF has posed:

CHIEF watches TRON order as he picks up his cup of java and takes a sip from it. He waits for TRON to return before he goes to speak with the other program. "So how things been for you? Anything exciting?" He tilts his head slightly to the side.
TRON has posed:
TRON places his disposable plate down and retakes his seat, sliding the change back over to CHIEF. Apparently TRON didn't use much--didn't need to. "Yes, much has happened. Perhaps primarily, Manhattan's restoration from the Darkness."

He looks very uneasy, taking a bite from his sandwich and chewing as he seems to gather his thoughts. "I haven't gone there yet, but to be able to go back there again... It almost feels..." He exhales heavily in frustration, raking a hand through his hair. "It almost feels like we're one step closer to home, to be blunt. Most, if not all, of us came into Userspace through Manhattan, so..."
CHIEF has posed:

CHIEF smiles or tries to smile. Home. There was no home for him. Not any more. "That must be nice, I mean, that you guys will get a chance to return back to the place you come from." He takes another sip of his coffee.

"I am sure Deelel is thrilled about it. I imagine that media program is jumping around like a little hyper user, right?" He smirks faintly. "Probably driving you crazy, hehe. She admires you, you know? Many do. Your a pretty big hero-- and a royal pain in the MCP's side."

The military program stares at the brown liquid in the cup. His eyes close softly. "You have friends there right? Back in your home area? I am sure they will be glad to see you again."
TRON has posed:
TRON's expression is carefully neutral, perfectly tooled to betray no thought or emotion as CHIEF makes observations that strike way too close to home. It's not CHIEF's fault, of course, but he's still uncomfortable with the idea that he's become such a symbol. He's just a Security Program trying to do his job. Isn't he?

His smile, though easing the overly-stoic expression, is heartbreaking. His gaze turns wistfully distant while he mentally recalls names, places, and faces. "I did once. I lost one... very dear to me when I was quarantined into the Games. After I escaped and initiated the Resistance, I lost the other two when the Heartless invaded the system. I don't know their status, if they still even exist."

He takes a careful drink from his coffee, trying to not gulp it down since it's still hot and, yes, it'd probably hurt if he tried drinking it too fast. "You could say I have no home. It's there, it exists, but I... there's no place for me there anymore. Not without constantly being hunted, not without memories." He absent-mindedly swirls a straw in his coffee. "I learned a long time ago not to... well, not to hope. Not to expect better. But with something like Manhattan..." He grimaces. "I'm getting soft, and I can't afford that. Not with everyone looking to me, not with Master Control here."
CHIEF has posed:

CHIEF listens to what TRON has to say, he takes a few more sips on the coffee. He wants to push, he wants to poke. He wants to ask questions, get answers. He heard what the MCP has had to say, yet, now, he has to hear the other side of this story.

But there was a part of him that still didn't want to hear it, remember those words-- this isn't your fight, yet it could soon become his fight. He knew there be a catch somewhere in what the MCP was doing. There is always a catch. Users taught him that. All those upgrades, keeping up with modern coding. There was price for that. He had part of it as a scar on his face.

"The heartless are an annoying bunch. I think really they are far worse things that hit any grid. Worse then Grid bugs." CHIEF shudders at that thought. "..I am.. sorry about your friends. My own original systems are gone, so beyond ECHO.." He doesn't get into much details.

"..I-- have heard the MCP's side.. and.. I would like to hear yours. The honest yours version, but for now." CHIEF inhales deeply, before he finishes his coffee. "Lets just enjoy the time, hm? Maybe one day you could show me how you do that-- disc thing you do."
TRON has posed:
TRON nods slowly in empathic understanding, that /look/ still in his eyes. Almost like he wants to cry but can't quite... get there. It's an odd feeling.

He leans back in his chair, deeply inhaling and his expression neutralizing again with almost physical effort. Back to the TRON everyone expects to see. "I will be glad to explain my side whenever you wish to hear it. But yes, for now... it is enough."

He tilts his head to the side quizzically, which looks rather funny considering he's holding his half-eaten sandwich in front of his mouth. "'That Disc thing' I do? You'll have to be more specific than that, CHIEF."

He removes his Silver Disc from his back, the ring-lines dim thus indicating no threat, and rests his elbow on the table as he holds his hand slightly out to the side away from them both. He twirls the Frisbee-like Disc between his fingers like a User would twirl a pencil or a poker chip, slowly at first but picking up speed as it weaves between digits. "Discs have many uses, after all, no matter what system you originate from."
CHIEF has posed:

CHIEF watches as TRON gets fancy with the disc, he just eats his apple just watching with idle fascination. "..if you say so. Far as I am concerned, they just hold memories and if you lose it, your fragged." Bit of apple and chew. Continue to watch.
TRON has posed:
TRON grins at CHIEF's fascination with the Disc, which finally fully alleviates the troubled expression on his face. "And I used to think they were nothing more than shackles and weapons," he agrees. He flicks his fingers, deftly spinning the inside rim of the Disc's edge along his pointer and middle fingers in a vaguely circular motion. He doesn't even seem to be really focusing on the Disc tricks, since he takes a few sips of coffee in the meantime.

"I can't imagine a Disc becoming that important. Certainly it copies everything you experience or witness," his speech hitches for a split second, SARK's speech echoing in his mind before that memory stream is abruptly halted, "but to need it in order to function properly?" He looks chagrined all of a sudden, remembering the incident in DPS HQ over CHIEF's Disc, as he catches his Disc firmly in his other hand and rests it on the table in front of him. "I never did properly apologize to you for that mess, did I?"
CHIEF has posed:

"Mm. Not really, but your action spoke loud enough." CHIEF says with a smirk. "..I still say you and the MCP make a good team, even if you two can't stand one another." bite of apple and idle thought as he stares at TRON's disc.

"..I remember... somewhat.. when we didn't even have discs.. then I remember.. when they became part of us.. and the evolution of them changing as the data was updated." His eyes seem to almost zone out in the thought before they come back to focus. He then looks at TRON. "..where I come from, they are not tools of weapons really. /Not/ often anyhow. Mostly because why need to use them when you have firearms."

CHIEF then falls silent as he starts to finish the apple at last. His brows furrow in thought. How the systems were so different, yet at times, were so much alike. Munch.
TRON has posed:
TRON sighs softly even as he chuckles dryly. "Yes, we've both realized the irony in that." Of course, it's not as if he really /wanted/ to fight his own system's Administrator in the first place... but again, not the time for that conversation.

He nods slowly, processing what CHIEF explains about the progression of Programs and how the Disc fits in accordingly while he munches on his own sandwich. "And if they're integral to functionality, it makes sense that Programs will prefer to use other means than Discs."

He tilts his head in his own thought processes, recalling data along that baseline. "My system has other weapons, staves and stun pikes mainly, but they are restricted to specific Program types. Discs are issued only to conscripts--those sent to the Games. But 'firearms'... no, we don't have anything like that." He grins light-heartedly. "Must be the lower bitrate?"
CHIEF has posed:

CHIEF mms softly as TRON explains stuff, "If that was true, then MCP's group wouldn't have access to weapons are the defense weapons installed around town." The Military program wonders if TRON /knew/ that piece of data there.

"I think maybe it just depends on what system your fun and the software placed within it." CHIEF then to himself, before he finishes off the coffee. "I-- sometimes wish I came from a really simple system. Military systems are always very tight."
TRON has posed:
TRON flinches noticeably when CHIEF casually mentions defense systems around Traverse Town, his brown eyes flickering blue. Fortunately, he doesn't choke on the last of his sandwich in the process.

"There were rumors..." TRON pushes aside his plate as he nurses his own coffee. "...well, not rumors if you were in the Games. Master Control accessed outside systems, captured Programs and brought them in. It is... possible... he took data as well and assimilated the knowledge."

He rubs at his lower face briefly with one hand. He didn't want to hear something like that, but he needed to. He can't afford to close his eyes to the MCP's presence here. He does not linger on that topic long, however.

"It's rather boring. Mostly data-pushers, sometimes you'll meet someone who doesn't always talk about work..." He chuckles softly, a wistfully fond sound. "But I'm apparently a sheltered individual, so forgive me for that." He tilts his head faintly at CHIEF. "What does a military system even look like?"
CHIEF has posed:

CHIEF leans back in the chair, looking at what remains of the apple. There wasn't much left really. "Oh. Military systems are like any other system really. They been upgraded, fixed up, alter depending on user requirements. The difference is the way they are ran, not so much the looks." CHIEF explains before placing down the apple.

"In many cases, when program go rogue, they brought in and placed in a cube like cell. Where then the user can either fix the data.. or they will be rectified on the spot. If the Rogue program doesn't cooperate, they will be derezed on sight. No questions asked, because it is the order either from a user or from programs designed to keep the system tight."

"Oh sure, there is things to do when you are not in service, but you better be on time and you better keep to your work. Actually the newer the systems got, the less funny business was allowed." CHIEF grumbles softly. "..also meant longer function cycles. For some, they were always on call. There was very little rest for those programs."
TRON has posed:
TRON's naive, almost child-like curiousity meets a very harsh reality. The light in his eyes fades to a jaded dullness and he rests one hand on his Disc. "I see..." His voice is quiet, nearly listless, but there's an undercurrent of... anger? Righteous fury? "Even those Users are cruel in their absolute /ignorance/ of what they do."

The look of downright disgust, as if there was a nasty aftertaste from something he'd consumed, is startling to see. Especially on a Program who is supposedly so pro-User to the point of worshipping the concept.

He shakes his head and sips his coffee, a whole mess of emotions crossing his eyes before he settles back to jaded. "Logically, I should not be surprised. Yet... perhaps I let myself hope." He chuckles weakly. "See? Hope again. I know better."
CHIEF has posed:

"Mm. Nothing wrong with hope. I hope to a few system that were less strict, a little more program friendly, but the hard cold fact is," CHIEF smiles, though it was a sad one. "..Users just don't care about us programs. We are tools to do their jobs and we do it without so much of a thought. After all, they are our creators... why would we.."

CHIEF then lowers his head. A cringe on his face as thoughts pass his mind. He shakes his head gently. "Anyhow, not all systems are like the military ones, so I am sure somewhere out there is a more, care-free system." He says as he goes to then stand up. He walks over and places his hand on TRON's shoulder. "..Just.. don't ever give up hope, alright? Sometimes its all we got in this crazy place." He then gives TRON's shoulder a pat on the shoulder.

"Just keep on believing and keep on dreamin, because sometimes-- those are sweeter when they do come true." CHIEF says with a smile, "..just keep me in touch if you find anything about you-know-who will you? I am looking forward to the data on that."

"Catch you later, Tron-y Boy!" CHIEF says with a wave of his hand before he walks off. Whistling some tune to himself as he does.
TRON has posed:
TRON sighs softly, his gaze sliding to the side as he processes all of CHIEF's words of encouragement. He doesn't shrug out of CHIEF's reassuring shoulder-pats either, though his own shoulders relax incrementally from the friendly gesture. "Yes... perhaps you're right." His voice doesn't sound like he really /believes/ it... but CHIEF does have a point... and why does he hear Mama Odie's voice in his head all of a sudden?

He nods once as he looks up at CHIEF. "As promised, I will contact you when I find anything." His nose wrinkles noticeably as CHIEF trots off. "And don't call me Tron-y Boy!"

But despite yelling after the military Program, half-rising out of his chair as if to shove his Silver Disc up where the sun don't shine, there is no true anger there. If anything, it sounds like he's smiling despite himself.