Pinned to the wall, nose to nose with the admin, Clu could see his expression twitch. It was subtle, but it happened repeatedly, and Clu imagined he could almost hear the other swatting down various violent responses. Responses that would make their entire interaction up to this point moot and ruin any chance of preventing the coming disaster he'd outlined in the bargain.
When he spoke, even his attempt at a verbal response faltered, a shiver running through his frame. "You tore out protocols to become what you are now," he pointed out as the admin trailed off. Clu wasn't privy to the details, of course, but well... there was a reason that editing your own code to any significant degree was considered at best highly inadvisable, even when one did have the permissions for it. Most programs found the idea repellant, or even blasphemous, to the point where it had become something of a self-enforcing taboo. But that didn't stop some, for better or worse; Bostrumite ISOs, for example, had been rather famous for tweaking their own code in a variety of ways. While ISO code was flexible and adaptive enough to handle such things, to a point, the more rigid coding of User-created programs, however... "That was never not going to have side effects. No matter how carefully it was done."
Ripping out safeguards had allowed him to do what he felt was required. But it was a disc that cut both ways. Slowly, cycle after cycle, eroding his ability to self-regulate, allowing the corrupted logic trees that had led him to poison the sea and betray his User to begin with to grow and spread, to widen the cracks and breed justifications and denials like junk code bred gridbugs. And with much the same destructive results.
Even with most all of his functions locked down, there was no mistaking the shift in the code around him. He couldn't, at present tell what had been done, but something clearly had. Something big. And since the admin had to know that he would check it at his first opportunity, he had no reason to believe that it wasn't what he claimed.
Whether or not it would stay that way was more in doubt. "What I want is a free, healthy system, where everyone can feel safe," he said. "Restoring the games is an important part of that. And one I can easily keep an eye on." The implications were clear; if the admin ever went back on his word and made the games deadly again, the deal was off. But it likewise bound Clu to his end of the deal, because if he were to abandon his new post in central processing and go rogue, he would risk the admin doing just that, and worse, in retaliation. A link forged begrudgingly and negotiated through clenched teeth. But one that would bind them both.
He wasn't especially surprised when the admin leaned in still further, forearms resting on the wall, as he continued talking. Not only was such a move entirely on brand for him, given what Clu knew, but shifting that much data at once had likely taken a lot of effort even for a program on his level. Needing a moment to regather his processes and let energy flow catch up from the sudden massive load was entirely understandable.
What was surprising, though in hindsight probably shouldn't have been, was what came next. The world became fuzzy and pixelated around the edges for a moment as the changes took hold. Without saving them to disc, the changes wouldn't be permanent, thank the Users. But that didn't make it any less uncomfortable, especially on top of the already invasive coding of the function binders. And especially since the clothing template he'd been forced into was far tighter than anything he'd ever worn willingly.; how did Sirens even move in outfits like this?
Not that he could do much moving at the moment, of course. He'd managed to shift away from the kiss on his ear albeit a bit too late, mostly out of surprise, because wow, really? After they'd just gotten through snarling at and insulting each other, he was doing that? But Clu didn't think he'd be able to do it again, and not just because of the function binders. Every circuit and inch of skin felt hypersensitive, the suit providing none of the insulation that normal clothing templates did. It was like the specialized and delicate sensors on his hands had been spread over his whole body and turned up to their maximum intensity. He could feel everything; the texture of the wall behind him and the floor beneath him- how was it that not even the shoes offered any insulation, what was even the point of them then?-, the feel of the suit against his shell, the heat of the admin's circuits in such close proximity to his, he even imagined he could feel faint static still crackling in the air from the massive amount of code that the admin had recently shifted.
It was the heat of the admin's circuits that drew his attentions though, overlayed protocols shifting and drawing more energy to his own circuits in anticipation. It was blatantly clear what the admin intended, and though he didn't dare try to move when he was this sensitive, the glare returned, full force. "Nice trick," he said sarcastically. "What's the matter, can't get an actual Siren's attention, so you gotta make one instead?"
no subject
When he spoke, even his attempt at a verbal response faltered, a shiver running through his frame. "You tore out protocols to become what you are now," he pointed out as the admin trailed off. Clu wasn't privy to the details, of course, but well... there was a reason that editing your own code to any significant degree was considered at best highly inadvisable, even when one did have the permissions for it. Most programs found the idea repellant, or even blasphemous, to the point where it had become something of a self-enforcing taboo. But that didn't stop some, for better or worse; Bostrumite ISOs, for example, had been rather famous for tweaking their own code in a variety of ways. While ISO code was flexible and adaptive enough to handle such things, to a point, the more rigid coding of User-created programs, however... "That was never not going to have side effects. No matter how carefully it was done."
Ripping out safeguards had allowed him to do what he felt was required. But it was a disc that cut both ways. Slowly, cycle after cycle, eroding his ability to self-regulate, allowing the corrupted logic trees that had led him to poison the sea and betray his User to begin with to grow and spread, to widen the cracks and breed justifications and denials like junk code bred gridbugs. And with much the same destructive results.
Even with most all of his functions locked down, there was no mistaking the shift in the code around him. He couldn't, at present tell what had been done, but something clearly had. Something big. And since the admin had to know that he would check it at his first opportunity, he had no reason to believe that it wasn't what he claimed.
Whether or not it would stay that way was more in doubt. "What I want is a free, healthy system, where everyone can feel safe," he said. "Restoring the games is an important part of that. And one I can easily keep an eye on." The implications were clear; if the admin ever went back on his word and made the games deadly again, the deal was off. But it likewise bound Clu to his end of the deal, because if he were to abandon his new post in central processing and go rogue, he would risk the admin doing just that, and worse, in retaliation. A link forged begrudgingly and negotiated through clenched teeth. But one that would bind them both.
He wasn't especially surprised when the admin leaned in still further, forearms resting on the wall, as he continued talking. Not only was such a move entirely on brand for him, given what Clu knew, but shifting that much data at once had likely taken a lot of effort even for a program on his level. Needing a moment to regather his processes and let energy flow catch up from the sudden massive load was entirely understandable.
What was surprising, though in hindsight probably shouldn't have been, was what came next. The world became fuzzy and pixelated around the edges for a moment as the changes took hold. Without saving them to disc, the changes wouldn't be permanent, thank the Users. But that didn't make it any less uncomfortable, especially on top of the already invasive coding of the function binders. And especially since the clothing template he'd been forced into was far tighter than anything he'd ever worn willingly.; how did Sirens even move in outfits like this?
Not that he could do much moving at the moment, of course. He'd managed to shift away from the kiss on his ear albeit a bit too late, mostly out of surprise, because wow, really? After they'd just gotten through snarling at and insulting each other, he was doing that? But Clu didn't think he'd be able to do it again, and not just because of the function binders. Every circuit and inch of skin felt hypersensitive, the suit providing none of the insulation that normal clothing templates did. It was like the specialized and delicate sensors on his hands had been spread over his whole body and turned up to their maximum intensity. He could feel everything; the texture of the wall behind him and the floor beneath him- how was it that not even the shoes offered any insulation, what was even the point of them then?-, the feel of the suit against his shell, the heat of the admin's circuits in such close proximity to his, he even imagined he could feel faint static still crackling in the air from the massive amount of code that the admin had recently shifted.
It was the heat of the admin's circuits that drew his attentions though, overlayed protocols shifting and drawing more energy to his own circuits in anticipation. It was blatantly clear what the admin intended, and though he didn't dare try to move when he was this sensitive, the glare returned, full force. "Nice trick," he said sarcastically. "What's the matter, can't get an actual Siren's attention, so you gotta make one instead?"