>> TO re:ShaPE tHE HUMAN COND--IT\ON__

"My trip to Purgos went on entirely too long, and I apologize for the inefficency."

          "Tireless you are, Ada. A good worker. And well appreciated, too!"

 >__            » The pause is heavy, the moment of his reveal lingering and dragging on until,                                    — at last,                                           — his twisted, charming smile creeps up. « « — “Yes, my little bird of paradise?” — »

     “My—” Her voice faltered a moment, registering the title he’d so calmly treated her to. The circuits burned beneath her armor. “—Luminary, you wished to see me. My… report is in.” —(Also known as the list of how much she’d fragged up in training in the past cycle). But dammit, she’d tried really hard this time. “I hope—it is satisfactory, sir.”

      His gaze was gently, and the lines around his eyes and lips reinforced the genuine nature of his smile as a small, glowing fetch function — no more than a spark in the air — danced around her to her disk. It was when the function, with copied data hovering beside it in a large visual panel, returned to his throne that there was a clear difference in his expression. His lips stayed in a smile, but his eyes darkened and lost the happy crinkles in their corners; his nostrils flared slightly, a hot, fiery exhale coming out disguised as something pleasant.      "Mm, now, your scores leave something to be desired, dear," he cooed out in the warmest, sweetest of tones, leaving the comfort of his seated position with just little effort. Upon his feet, he grasped the function in his hand, now practically holding a sheet of data as if it were upon transparent. "And here I'd thought you would excel in combat. Agile. Lithe." He circled Quorra like a predator, reading from the page whilst faking a lack of harsh judgement. His free hand curled a thumb over knuckles, rubbing them, perhaps dusting.      "Well, I'm afraid this just won't do, my lovely pet."

  >__           « — It has been a  l o n g  time. — »

     "…Sir?"

 >__            » The pause is heavy, the moment of his reveal lingering and dragging on until,                                     — at last,                                            —  his twisted, charming smile creeps up. «                                    « — "Yes, my little bird of paradise?" — »

a series of unfortunate or overlooked films | Tron: Legacy (2010)

This is a smart lightsaber.

          "Now. Why don’t we satisfy that curiosity of yours?" he asked, purposefully tantalizingly to his student— no, his world. Nothing compared to being still capable of play and jest with her. Before she could even attempt to get it, he scooped the long, sleek gift box from the table, walking out to the open air of the poolside.

     NAVI flew to hover by the gift, as if curious, itself. And Quorra was soon to follow, that excited grin returning as she jumped upright and nearly bolted after him. She wanted to snatch the gift right from his hands, but she stopped herself and put her hands behind her back. "I think that was my favorite reading so far!" She looked at him, bashful. "Thank you, Flynn." Then her eyes fell again to the gift—it could not be helped. She was really excited. "…Can I open it now?"

      Were the surfaces of the safehouse not constantly humming with a gentle warmth, the chill of the air would bring a bit of a dampener to this moment; Flynn wiped away a few droplets of water from Quorra’s cheek to keep her from getting too uncomfortable. A slow, happy sigh was prelude to words.      "This dreamer… well. What he dreams isn’t that amazing. Just sees a bright light, rolling through the Sea of Simulation, cleaning it and reigniting it. Making it live again…" His thoughts had passed from their physical position to the imagining of those rising, falling, rippling renders of the water’s surface. In his idleness, his finger traced slow circles on Q’s soft cheek. "A world where the ISOs return, and CLU isn’t… what he is now," he said, and frowned out the last few words. Then he clung back to the reality of his dreaming; all he really saw in his nights was the one scene. It was accompanied by an understanding of the light’s implications, and great emotion.      ”The light, Quorra. What a beauty it’d be. Wiping away that poison, rushing up in every floating bubble until the sea swam with potential again… That’s what I dream about. Waking up… Well. It’s not a nice feeling.”

     ”Well, I dreamt of the Real World last cycle. Everything was so bright, Flynn. Like, the light you talk about, but it’s the whole sky.” She pressed her palms to the poolside and jumped up, twisting to sit on the edge. ”But the best part was, you gave me a ‘dog…’” She leaned into him a little, looking away to give an unassuming hint.

Flynn frowned, his meditation somewhat interrupted, though he was one to always forgive that. He cleared his throat, tilting his head to the right and then back to the center, speaking to the ISO behind him.”Yes, Q. I believe in Tron. I believe in what he did for me, I believe that he should be such an icon.” He frowned then, standing and stepping through the barrier of floating points of light before the balcony. “I don’t believe those words, but if anyone could survive what I saw done…” He left the sentence hanging for a long while, turning and flashing a brief, sad smile to Quorra.”It would be him.”

"Be discreet. No picking fights, no getting in combat unless it’s completely necessary for you to survive," the old man resigned, voice soft and gravelly, nearly a croak. "You’re more important than them. Don’t be a hero, Quorra," he warned— worried. Little red specks fell to the streets of the city, and then rose up past the sky-line again, no doubt collecting what few citizens still needed to be rectified or tossed into the games. The ISO could not change that, and Flynn knew it. Being such a rarity did not change that she was just one drop in an ocean. She wouldn’t be heroic, wouldn’t be able to fight entire wars for these people, but she could be a drop.  What is an ocean if not a multitude of them? "You may go…" he finally gave explicitly, running a hand down his weary, frightened features.

     She looked to the skyline, seeing as well those glowing dots of red flying toward the city center. A grimace crossed her face, lit by the Energy pool beside her. "What if…" She leaned, watching her reflection waver in the wind. "What if we set up a audio/visual link? We could patch it, make it untrackable. You could, keep an eye on me. I could show you what I find." Maybe that would suffice for compromise, or at least, ease his heart. 

It was a face he would see soon enough anyway. She would leave to her fight. And he... decidedly, he would wait, and then he would go, too. But it was best even she not know he was there. Where she would be a shadow, he would have to be a ghost.