Opted against some much needed sleep and decided to finish colouring GEM instead, and I’m glad I did ‘cause I’m way pleased with the end result.
*pats self on the back*
*drops from exhaustion*
….I am slightly terrified.
Expo, 32, freelance film and video editor and professional nerd living in the Pacific northwest.
SO THAT’S WHAT THAT VIRUS DOES.
This is a page from “Tron: Legacy - Initiate Sequence”, an “It’s Your Call” aka choose your own adventure book. Goldmine, people!
This end is what you get when you make Sam chicken out on everything past “go to the arcade or not”. Sam finds out that some kid called Alex has been sneaking into the arcade… when the kid sneaks into the basement you just left and starts making a racket down there. When Sam runs back down and catches him, the “Aperture Clear Y/N” message on Flynn’s desk has given way to a map of the Grid. Alex touches a part of it marked with “Outlands” and he and Sam are zapped in by the laser and appear in the Outlands, near the Sea. Alex is the worst most obnoxious brat and wants to wade in the Sea, where he promptly gets picked up by a Reco. Cue the page above. I am not sorry for how fucked he is without Sam to save him. XD
I’m making my way through the book by constantly picking the option that seems like it’ll lead to the fastest end, and this is the third end I’ve found. The first I got was: throw away the keys Alan gives you > find out two days of screwing around on your bike later that Encom has somehow managed to boot you out and take your inheritance from you > find a job assisting a stunt coordinator called Jax (girl’s name btw) > be an impatient dick > get fired > end up a fast food delivery guy, which is the best job you can find with your skill set
and dickishness. The second end was: don’t be an impatient dick to Jax > keep the job > become a stunt man and then a movie star > become enough of a movie star to buy Encom back and make Alan CEO, on the sole condition that he lets you keep base jumping off of the office building.
Long story short, THIS BOOK IS GREAT. I am laughing so hard. Totally adopting a ton of this extra stuff into my personal headcanon.
…holy shit that one story I wrote for Ran wasn’t so far off after all. o_O
I posted these Tron shortfics yesterday, but a few people asked for a rebloggable version, so here it is! You can also find them at the ao3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/790139/chapters/1492513
Prompt: “If he and Tron were such good friends, why do you think Flynn didn’t bring Yori over from the old system?”
“So that’s it. Lora’s just… out?”
Alan shook his head. “She had a better opportunity in DC. We talked it over, and it seems like the best thing for the both of us. Especially with the way Kevin’s been lately…”
Roy snorted. “He messed up my chances with Jen, too. It’s like he meant to piss her off! And now this… Lora can’t go. She’s one of us!”
“Gooble, gobble,” Alan sighed, but his heart wasn’t in it. He turned away, just for a moment, looking out over the city. “He’s been this way ever since. Ever since… Jordan. Just can’t stand to see anybody happy, I guess.”
Elsewhere, a command prompt was blinking:
Delete program: YORI-ES937154? [y / n] _
Prompt: “‘User.’ Rinzler can talk! So what’s up with that how at first it seemed like he couldn’t? Elaborate at your leisure, please, in a Clu/Rinzler mindset.”
“You don’t talk much anymore,” Clu told him. His own voice was low and quiet despite the safety of the Throne Room; it faded into the whisper of his coat as he moved to Rinzler’s left. Then his hand came round, confident and possessive, ghosting over the damage which ran down Rinzler’s throat.
Rinzler turned his chin away, and let his forehead rest against Clu’s wrist — to pull away entirely would have invited anger. “Hurts,” he said at last. The gravel in his voice went on long after he’d spoken.
“I know,” Clu muttered. “But I like to hear you.” His hand dipped lower, skirting Rinzler’s hip. Clu stepped into it, drawing Rinzler close, and pressed the length of his body against Rinzler’s back. “Talk to me,” he ordered. There was a pause, and then: “Tell me a story.”
There was a User once, and an Administrator, and his friend the Security program…
Once upon a time, in a world far, far away, there was a system in which no one was free…
Once I was free. Or so I thought.
None of the stories Rinzler knew seemed to fit the moment, so he invented one, screwing his eyes shut so he could see it more clearly. The gesture made his scar itch, and that helped to drown out the pain of each slow, hesitant word.
“There was… a Leader, and his enforcer. They lived in a System which was… almost perfect. And together they made it perfect…”
“I think I know this one,” Clu murmured, and after that they said nothing at all.
Prompt: “Has Rinzler or Jarvis ever noticed any strange User-like quirks of Clu’s, given the way he was created?”
There are songs in him. Little tune-snippets which mean something to Clu, but nothing to the others. They slip out sometimes when he’s busy reformatting, reorganizing, Rectifying:
Don’t stop! Believin’! Hold on to that feeling…
My blood runs cold, yeah, my memory has just been sold!
Jarvis rarely gets to hear them, though he’s sure Rinzler does; the Enforcer never misses a beat. Still, they’re a part of the Leader few know, and fewer understand… and Jarvis saves each and every one of them on his Disc, so that someday he might understand them, too.
Prompt: “…Clu threatening Kevin with his big dick, sexytimes pre-coup… Clu comes out and Flynn is just like JESUS CHRIST WHAT IS LIKE I DON’T HAVE THAT”
“I’m not as you made me anymore,” Clu growled. “The ISOs, the system… you won’t listen, everything’s changed…”
“Shut up and kiss me,” Kevin muttered, and yanked at his belt. He’d never gotten over the feel of his own lips against his, his own stubble-burn over his jaw; it had been way, way too long. For the both of them.
“Hmph,” Clu grumped, and rolled so that Kevin was, abruptly, on the bottom. Kevin wriggled in vain, humping up against Clu’s hard body. Jeez, when had he gotten so heavy?
Clu covered him with a nigh-aggressive roll of his hips, sharp blue eyes a finger’s breadth from Kevin’s face. He derezzed his suit with a thought, dragged one of Kevin’s hands out from under him, and then shoved it down, down to…
Kevin spread his hand in silent, shocked wonder, measuring the extent of his creation. Confusion warred with jealousy, and both must’ve shown on his face, because Clu just smirked at him.
“I told you, User. Everything’s changed…”
All of these are fanastic, though I had to wince a little at that first one. Ouch.
Completely lost my shit at the image of Clu singing J. Geils’ “Centerfold”, though.
The perils of belonging to the Tron fandom: Skullvis yells “TAKE ME NOW, ANON” in response to an Ask and I immediately did a doubletake.
Here’s what I wanted with that composition - Alan chancing upon one of Rinzler’s discs and warning Sam to stay behind. Because it would be good to have somebody who’s not a Flynn in charge for once.
…this is exactly the inspiration I needed to get back to work on Beyond the Sea tonight. Wow.
MAY “Yori Lives Story Contest”Since we’ve been seeing so much amazing artwork of all kinds(and hearing many amazing story suggestions too! ) …We’ decided that a “Yori Lives Story Contest ” would be fun.How does the character Yori/ Lora fit into the proposed story line for TRON 3?Artwork: ANY kind… one piece up to a short graphic novel!Story: One line, a synopsis or …….. ;)Rating: Keep it G to PG-13Prize: Autograph with their choose of picture for me to sign and limited edition glass Yori pendant necklace made by David BirdWe’ll post the entries, and our friends on Tumblr will decide by end of May.Main picture is made by Robert Plissken
Yori [Lora] fans, you know what to do.
Sob I think I’m disqualified from this contest by default.
Whaaaaa! :D It is so cute!
“When I said I wanted something to read, this wasn’t what I had mind,” Sam said, looking up from the pile of books that Quorra had draped over him. Fuck, why did his leg have to be in a cast? It made his house-mates three hundred percent worse.
“Well, you didn’t specify,” Quorra said from the open kitchen, where she was mixing the egg wash for french toast with the precision of a chemist. Why were they having french toast? Because his painkiller had come with instructions to eat something when taking, and that happened to be Q’s favorite.
His protestations that it was two in the goddamn morning were met with a pat on the head. He had a feeling the books would be met with the same if she wasn’t distracted, even if the point had been to just have something to stare at until he could sleep.
“Do you want syrup or nutella?” Quorra called, a giggle in her voice as she snuck a glance over at him.
Sam looked sideways at Rinzler, who had taken custody of the prescription bottle when Sam had tried to take the damn pain pill earlier. Rinzler stared back, his chin resting on one hand, before he deliberately plucked a copy of The Martian Chronicles off the book pile.
“Someone has to keep you out of trouble,” Rinzler proclaimed. Sam groaned.
Kat, you are a national treasure. <3