Digital Being inhabiting a Laptop Computer Ink Art from page 73 of The Mutant Epoch RPG Expansion Rules

While a digital being can be housed within almost any laptop, and access the programs, files and peripheral devices that it’s hooked up to, only 1 in 10 are specially designed to accommodate digital beings and have a back port that accepts either a palm disk, medallion disk, or the CPU core from a hand mirror or projector aerial drone. To better aid the DB when interacting with physical beings, any laptop will let a digital being’s face appear on the screen as an animated version of its chosen or assigned persona.

Art Fight 🔁REVENGE on @computerized!

<<Day 13 // FF.net // Ao3

Set in a computerized world.

Filthy spammers! Chat Noir sneered into the darkness of the catacombs. How’d they even get the jump on him!? That’s it, he turned to pacing, that is the last time he rides the cable car. But how bold! They bugged him right in the dataspace, dumping him here like trash.

Electric zaps flung off his shoulders, bouncing at the ground before sizzling out.

He’ll trace them down by the bugs coding, slip past their backdoor, and send them to the catacombs.

A sniffle diverted his thoughts, cutting off his electrical flow. He’s not alone?

Sitting against a junk file was a small program, curled, head tucked behind her knees, and shaking with sobs. As he stepped closer he noticed her black hair, fashioned into pigtails, and an outfit of pink capris and a white shirt.

“Hello?” He greeted.

She leaned away from her knees, yet didn’t look up, “hello...”

“What brings you here?”

“Fell through the cracks. I’m no longer supported.”

“You?” He glanced her over. “Yeah right. You’re fairly new. Only outdated programs lose support.”

She did look up then. “Or fragmentations.” Square chips out of her left cheek revealed coding beneath, zeros and ones forming and disintegrating in tandem.

“Oh, that’s not so bad.” He dismissively waved a hand. “Pair with an interface. Then you’ll run smoothly.”

“Easier said than done...”

“Ah, picky?”

She exhaled.

“Tell you what, how about we link up, and I’ll defrag you.”

“You’re an interface?” A moment later, she turned away. “Linking leads to pairing. I don’t know you.”

“Currently, my username is Chat Noir, at your service.” He bowed. “And yes it does, but pairing is permanent and requires permission on both ends. Linking however is temporary and will take us to the Processing Department for evaluation. Or do you have another terminal to exit the catacombs?”

She opened her mouth, shut it, and murmured, “Marinette.” Getting to get feet, a frown marred her face. “I wish I’d been born an interface.”

“Not gonna lie. I’ve been around for many light cycles, but you programs? Come and go from the system with each update. You find your way to the webs yet?”

She shook her head.

“It's my favorite place to escape.” He grabbed her hand, initiating the link. “Try going before you’re booted.”

She gasped, defragmented in a millisecond. Feeling refreshed and protected even partially by his firewalls.

Then they began transferring, file by file sent away to Processing.

He waved. “See you on the other side.”