RE: A Far Distant Shore
It ought not surprise him that Lyntael proved much less patient for talking things out calmly, in this particular moment, Rogan contemplated. He kept the primary view screen focused on the girl's detailed diagnostics; he recognised heart rate, respiration, core and extremity temperatures and several other basic vitals, though he was still swamped by the plethora of other read outs and diagrams that he suspected detailed pain responses as well as emotional, chemical and hormonal levels and interactions, much of which he felt he really shouldn't be invading in the first place... but it was better that watching her directly in her current state.

She demonstrated with swift efficiency once again that, when it came down to it these days, she didn't really need his help any more. There was no question that she'd been desperate for it in the early days, but he did wonder... Eric's accusation drifted up in his mind again; he'd given Lyntael to him because he thought Rogan needed her – the gift of a brother worried about his sibling – but the words he'd spoken after it was too late; that she'd needed him as well... He'd known the idea was there, when the whole arrangement had started, but he'd only really looked at her physical difficulties, and how she struggled, and he'd scoffed at Eric's awkward play. Well, she definitely didn't need his help in physical function any more... a sneaking thought slipped into his mind; after everything, it really seemed like she didn't truly need him emotionally any more either. Perhaps the opportunity for that kind of mutual benefit had passed, and he'd missed it. It surprised him, how uncomfortable the thought made itself. She'd reached out when he wasn't listening, and she'd found her own strength now instead. She wanted to be here for him, or so she said, but she didn't seem to need his support in return, not any more. Was he over-thinking it? This was why he avoided leaving his mind idle...

“Ah! Don't you dare, not again—!” Lyntael's frustrated shout drew his eyes back to the screen and without thinking he flicked the view back to a proper visual to see what was going on. Immediately, he turned his eyes to the side, shielding the screen from general view as he caught sight of the girl struggling to dress herself quickly again in the shallow water. The fight, at least, was done with, and her no worse for wear. When his peripheral vision told him she as done adjusting her clothes, Rogan looked back, then suppressed a sigh. Well, it was a beach, at least, and as long as he didn't draw the screen in closer, it didn't really show off the fact that her undergarments weren't nearly as opaque as a swimsuit when they were damp. She seemed to be moving on, just in her vest and underwear, apparently unperturbed. He opened the channel but didn't immediately find a way to ask if she was alright. Was there a good way to ask if she was too embarrassed, without amplifying any such feelings with the attention? After another moment or two he cleared his throat quietly.

“Lyntael. I... assume you're content to continue?” His fingers moved to hover above the commands he'd need to reinitialise her clothing, but he didn't press anything yet for fear of leaving the poor girl exposed again unexpectedly. On screen, Lyntael seemed nonchalant.

“I'm fine, Rogan.” He believed her, but again he found himself wondering if there wasn't some subtle ulterior motive to her risky behaviour. She got indignant and flustered, but it happened far too frequently and... he contemplated looking back at her more in-depth vitals again, before second-hand embarrassment stopped him... he had a suspicion there was some part of her that found these kinds of accidents exciting. He tried not to assess whether there was any disappointment in her voice as she claimed to have been expecting a more complete malfunction.

Instead, he listened and watched as she wandered down the beach on his screen, one not dissimilar to the scene before him, saving only that it was more barren; she seemed to be content, but as she mused about finding her balance, Rogan found himself wishing he could find the peace about everything that had happened that she seemed to be cultivating.

“I feel like I still need... I don't know...” There was a sense of frustration and uncertainty in her words as she tried to pin down what she meant; Rogan quickly gestured for another of the same with his glass towards the waitress that was moving in his direction, stopping her from actually approaching his table. The last thing he wanted was being picked up on improper browsing in public while his navi was trying to have a serious conversation.

“It doesn't feel quite... quite like I fit myself, not yet. I don't know how to explain it any better. Like there's so much here, but I don't quite know how to express it properly. And there's pressure still...” He'd heard her mention that before as well, though he still wasn't sure what it meant, exactly.
“I... Rogan...?”
“Hmm?”
“Could you... could you disconnect from me, for a little while? Stay with me, and keep watching, but...” Had they reached a point where it only felt right when she was out exploring or busting, if she was disconnected from her PET and alone? Rogan caught himself frowning and stopped.
“Lyntael, I know it maybe what you've grown used to, and I'll still need to do it for our work, but at this point, I'd rather not have you untethered unless it is necessary.” He meant it as a reassurance, but it didn't seem to have the effect he'd hoped for. Lyntael paused, glancing down and clasping her hands like a child asking for sweets.

“Please, Rogan. You'll still be with me, and you can patch up again right away if I get in trouble, can't you? I just... I feel like I need this. I need to be... free.” Rogan flinched as she finished, and the waitress delivering his drink stopped in the middle of her bright greeting and ducked away quickly. Was it coincidence that he'd been having the concern that she said it so plainly now? He should be happy that she didn't feel dependant on him, really; he should be, so why did it sting? He swallowed moisture into his throat.

“Every time you've been given the chance,” his mouth felt dry. “To go, or to stay away, or to live somewhere else.... you always choose to come back, to me. Even when... Even when it seems like the worst choice you could make, and everyone thinks you shouldn't and don't deserve... this.” Too late, he realised that she probably hadn't meant her words like that, at all, and he was jumping to a dramatic conclusion without thinking... but it was something that he had worried about, so he pushed the thought onward anyway. “Lyntael; it was easy to accept when I thought of you as a program – it was just how you were made and it ultimately didn't matter so long as you served your purpose... but now... I don't want you to feel... trapped with me.”

On his screen, Lyntael had swiftly drawn in on herself for a moment or two, radiating sudden regret, but she also hadn't cut him off with any kind of rapid dismissal or reassurance. Perhaps she hadn't meant to say it that way, but he felt as though she must have had the thoughts regardless. Eventually, he saw her rub at her neck and try to shake herself out.

“I don't, Rogan, I promise I don't.” She had started walking again, and somehow that simple action was more reassuring to him than the words. “I didn't mean it that way, and I really do want to be here, now, with you, helping. I swear it, I do. It's my choice, and it will always be my choice, Rogan, so long as you want me around, or I feel like you need me.” He nodded, even though she couldn't see. She wanted to help him, and she wanted to stay if he let her... but she didn't need him, not like she had once. He ought to feel glad for her about that. He didn't. Soft giggling broke him out of the thought spiral.

“And unless you look after yourself better, that second one will be true forever.” He could see her smile, but there was something in it that made him think she still felt bad about the indelicate exchange. He should be happy for her, though... Rogan tried a soft chuckle in return.

“I suppose that's true. In a little while perhaps, I may need to sort out some things here soon regardless.” It wasn't strictly true, but he could find an excuse to disconnect her, if it was what she really felt like she needed. It still made him shudder internally when he thought about all the times she'd spent away from the PET and disconnected from any safety, out on her own without him even knowing. She knew how to take care of herself, without him. It was what he'd always told her he needed, wasn't it? It didn't feel good.
posted in Beach Street
RE: A Far Distant Shore

Every time his eyes drifted back to where Lyntael was attempting to clean herself up and wash off her clothing, Rogan pulled his gaze away again, looking elsewhere. He cleared his throat after another few moments of looking for something to break the awkwardness of his navi bathing while he had nothing to do but wait and try not to watch.

“You were interrupted before, Lyntael... you were telling me what you had been reading about these Cybeast programs, and the net war.” It was a more innocuous topic, on the scale of things; the idea of autonomous, destructive programs left to operate unattended across the nets was ludicrous and ridiculous to his mind, if he didn't know it was true... but he had to admit that he really knew very little beyond the basics of that situation.

Lyntael's voice gave him something to more easily focus on that wasn't the motions of her bathing and scrubbing at her muddied clothes. It was still a ridiculous situation that meant he couldn't simply press a button to refresh her, in the way he'd seen other navis could. The same function on her PET would just materialise fresh clothing, neatly folded, for her and if he wasn't careful about when he did it, it might well replace what she was actively wearing in the process. There was authenticity, and then there was excess – he wouldn't mind pressing a button to clean and refresh his clothes without having to worry about laundry or changing and he didn't think it would detract from his experience as a human being if he could. He returned his focus to what his navi was saying.

“That mostly fits the basics of what I've heard, Lyntael. I confess, I've not paid much attention to it, but it's not surprising that conspiracy theorists have much to say about major events like that.” Finished his drink and swirled the swiftly melting ice cubes in the glass. “You mentioned a change. I was under the impression that the most recent four were all destroyed during the events surrounding the net war, then restored later.”

The conversation did at least give him something to focus on outside of watching his navi, and as he listened to her discussing the odd theories and strange reports about the unusual cybeast entities, and their apparently even more unusual behaviour in recent years, Rogan let his gaze shift to watching the world around him instead of the screen. Across the thoroughfare and down the walkways opposite the small cafe, the smooth golden sands stretched away for miles in both directions as world class surf rolled in and crashed against them. It wasn't too dissimilar from some of the beaches Lyntael herself was traversing, at least in some senses, but it was very different in others.

These were the kinds of beaches she really wanted to visit. Sun, sea, sand and refreshing breezes... but also relaxation, comfort and... he cast his eyes over the crowds that sunbathed, played or simply milled around... people. People to make friends with and to enjoy being the social creature that she was with. Even the nicer beach networks were rarely as populated as this; navis rarely seemed to have private leisure time, from what he'd seen now that he was paying more attention; most were sociable, and personable, but most of their time was still spent alongside an operator, either in service to their needs, or as a companion. Lyntael needed more than that but the only places he'd really seen where navigators had the kind of time to freely pursue their own social lives, like she needed, were the sanctuaries that protected abandoned navis, where operators were out of the picture. He pulled his focus back to the story Lyntael was telling him with a quick side-glance towards the screen. If she had just intended to quickly rinse off, he was quite sure she could have been finished by now. Something told him the girl was taking the opportunity to just play in the surf while she had a defensible excuse.

“If they reappeared, wouldn't the sensible thing be to assume that someone, somewhere had a copy of the programs, or their original source code, and simply released it again?” It was the pragmatic supposition, if dangerous programs thought destroyed had suddenly reappeared... though by his somewhat shaky understanding, the amount of resource needed to actually encode and store programs of that size and complexity was still staggering, even many years later. At the edge of his peripheral, he got the impression of Lyntael slumping with a sigh and splashing at the water around her as her voice responded with an exasperated edge to it. He nodded softly at the scolding that followed and sighed.

It was a story as old as science fictions stories about artificial intelligence and it was surreal to think about it in those terms, playing out in front of everyone in the real world here and now, but... maybe the next stage really was that they'd be better off without human control. He wasn't sold on the idea that this was the ultimate truth for all navis – Lyntael was very unique, but... he had to admit that, as brilliant as Eric was, if it could happen here it could happen elsewhere, and would, and might have already, in who knew how many other cases. Humans would still need truly artificial assistants, of course, but what of those that weren't any more? Even if he only truly accepted Lyntael's person-hood as a unique and beautiful anomaly, he still had to extend the possibility to other complex programs, and try not to assume otherwise without being sure. It was a lesson it was taking him time to learn, and he tried to respond with a hint of good humour.

“I have recently come to accept that a great deal of the computer science field that I interact with on one level is plagued with talk and language that is distinctly unscientific, and frequently not really related to computers, on another level, Lyntael.” He'd meant it as a wry joke, but his navi snapped back quickly, irritation in her voice, and Rogan felt himself pull back from the screen slightly.

“You couldn't just make a data copy of me, Rogan. It wouldn't be the same.” Before he could control the reaction, Rogan winced, his teeth clenching as he drew in on himself like covering a wound. He hadn't... that wasn't what he'd meant. In his mind, her words immediately summoned up the memory of her, or something like her, standing before him in a distant airport overnight room with a calm, uncomprehending smile, blank and empty as she... it... asked what was wrong, and the soul-rending horror that had filled him, enough to overpower the smell of blood and the pain of his own injuries. That wasn't what he'd meant.

Rogan took a deep breath, then another, as he swallowed moisture back into his throat. As he had looked back, he had been able to see and finally admit that he had genuinely come to care about her long before then, but even when he'd protected her and made excuses of convenience to justify the choices... even when he'd struggled to save her in that dangerous, damn near suicidal rescue attempt... it hadn't been until that moment – as that 'restored' and 'repaired' figure, that empty doll, had smiled up at him that he had truly known he had failed, and understood what had been lost. He focused and forced the unpleasant recollection away.

“That was cruel, Lyntael...” He murmured the words quietly, trying to keep the momentary roughness out of his voice. She probably hadn't intended to remind him of that – it was his shadow; his mark on the wall, not hers.
“I... I'm sorry, Rogan.” The sudden upset and concern brought a small, wistful smile to the corner of his lips and he shook his head with a sigh.
“But, you are correct. I am... still getting used to dealing with that reality. So. These beasts re-emerged, or maybe did...” He sought to bring the conversation back on track, though Lyntael herself sounded a little awkward as she continued her story. When he thought about sending Lyntael to gather information on the phenomena, when it came with the dangers to programs that she described, he understood more keenly why few had been willing to take the risks.

“Rogan! I said warn me!” Lyntael's sudden half-shrieked shout snapped his eyes back to the screen, only for him to catch full view of the very things he'd been tactically trying to avoid looking directly at; somehow the sudden appearance of viruses had also lowered the water level in the area and left Lyntael preparing for a fight while still very much undressed. He focused on the statistics and the basic data the PET was giving him, rather than the visual display.
“Er... Sorry! There's, ah... Incoming?” Surely neither of them could blame this one on anything other than his own carelessness...
“Little late...” Rogan frowned; she sounded a little embarrassed certainly, but not nearly as upset about the situation as he really felt she probably ought to. Was she really just that used to it happening, or was it something else..? He thrust the thought away, refusing to entertain it, and did his best to focus on the sudden conflict his navi had found herself in... and trying not to let his eyes focus too closely or too often on the navi herself.
posted in Beach Street
RE: A Far Distant Shore

Normally, Rogan would have moved on to other tasks swiftly, rather than dwelling on the silence between them, but, of an irony, he didn't have any other tasks to distract himself from right now – not when the whole point of his afternoon today, after finishing with his contact, was to focus on her.

He sipped his drink and checked the directions that Eurayle had given them, ensuring that Lyntael was heading in the right direction. She seemed content to simply enjoy the trek across the network's beach, but Rogan found himself fighting back the urge to find something else to say. He was spared from his first attempt to strike up fresh conversation by another hostile engagement; if anything the lack of any kind of response that showed intelligence was a relief, this time – Lyntael tried to give a warning, but quickly moved to defending herself and neutralising the threat once it was clear the viral programs arrayed against her weren't capable of listening.

For all of her caution and reticence, the battle, such as it was, was concluded in a handful of short moments, and Lyntael's worst damage was an unfortunate amount of mud. He caught himself smirking as she gave up on trying to keep clean and let herself fall back in the muck for a few moments, staring at the sky.

“Majestic...” he tried not to laugh outright, but the was no harm in letting the amusement show through in the deadpan murmur. He was heartened to see her slight grin in return, even if it came with a feigned recrimination.

He probably shouldn't have been caught off guard a few moments later as she picked herself up and headed for the water; he was, nevertheless. A rinse off was perhaps within expectations, but he nearly choke don his drink when she began to undress. With a hurried movement, Rogan shifted the various view and statistic screens to pull away from the girl and ensure nothing untoward was showing. Despite himself, he glanced about the cafe to make sure no-one else had been looking in his direction at the wrong moment. He could only imagine the awkwardness of trying to explain something like that; at the very least he'd be asked to leave.

Once he was sure it was safe, he tweaked the different views again to track at a safer distance and from an angle that would keep his navi decently obscured. Even so, he felt like half closing the screen on his laptop anyway, just in case. Rather than give in to the paranoid sensation, Rogan opened the line and cleared his throat softly to get her attention, and remind the girl that she wasn't, in fact, alone. Lyntael jumped, seemingly startled, and made a quick motion to cover herself even though he'd already ensured she was safe. Apparently she had forgotten.

“What? I'm not going to wander around caked in mud if I don't have to. No-one's looking.” She was making an effort to sound matter-of-fact, but he could still hear a thread of embarrassment in her defence.
“I was more concerned about the danger of the network you're in, Lyntael. It's not an ideal place to be lowering your guard.”
“I know. It'll be fine. You can keep watch if you'd like... Then I don't have to berate you not to peek.”
“And here I was thinking you were doing this just to tease me again, Lyntael.” The thought had occurred to him, though he doubted it considering the conversation they'd had moments before. It was his part of the joke, though, and he played the part just as she was playing hers with her own comments. He tried to laugh softly at the end of it and was relieved when Lyntael giggled along with him after a moment. Some part of him was sure her laughter was as awkward and forced as his, at some level, but after a moment she continued to chat in a more thoughtful tone.

“No... I'm just... I don't know if you've ever noticed, Rogan, but I seem to have impossibly bad luck with my clothing and outfits...” It would have been very difficult not to notice it, in fact. Rogan had more or less grown used to it, now, though he had to admit, a lot of the time Lyntael's own choices and behaviour seemed to invite the mishaps, even if they were made innocently. And were they actually as innocent as they seemed, for that matter; his mind drifted back to their last infiltration, and the... voyeuristic, exhibitionist way she'd behaved when she wasn't sure if she could be seen or not. He though about Eric's basement lab, his choice of posters and decoration, and certain elements of Lyntael's initial outfit, long since changed.

“I...” He swallowed. “Had noticed, yes...” His hesitant answer seemed to be enough for Lyntael to continue.
“It's almost like I'm a character in some dubious late night anime.”
“I had a less charitable thought about it, if I am honest, Lyntael.” He crushed the thought immediately, regretting that he'd even given it voice. That was not a fair thing to suppose, just him being cynical.
“Hmm?”
“No, it's not important. It's not a recrimination I want to give voice to any more. I misspoke.” Lyntael was quiet for a moment or two, but her sharp insight reached the unspoken conclusion swiftly anyway and Rogan winced as she proposed it. Even though she couldn't see it, he found himself shaking his head as he denied the possibility of it being Eric's fault.

“Eric loves you, dearly. You mean the world to him, and I cannot fathom that he would ever allow something like that to slip into the work he did. It was an uncharitable thought, nothing more.” Eric had always been adamant that Lyntael was a young lady, and he'd wanted to prepare her for living as an adult woman able to... make her own choices. Rogan hadn't really understood any of the details he'd gone into about his special Sunseed program, but one part of it had been about it extrapolating based on environmental factors. Whatever that was supposed to mean, he couldn't help but wonder if some element of Lyntael's misfortune, and her own occasionally fate-tempting behaviours, hadn't somehow stemmed from factors Eric had forgotten about.

Rogan took a deeper breath and tried to stretch away the uncomfortable tightness in his chest. It was still difficult to think about Eric, and what had happened between them. Even if Lyntael was healthy and well, and even if the girl she was now remembered all the things she had lost, in some fashion at least... he wasn't naïve enough to imagine that Eric would simply accept him back into his life because of it. If that bridge ever could be rebuilt, it would be a very long time in the working, and one sudden and painful epiphany wasn't enough to mend the hurt. Perhaps it was a first seed, but it wasn't enough to be called a branch on its own. Perhaps, if the trouble he felt certain was brewing came to a head, and he could face some of the loose tails they'd left behind, perhaps that might be a gift and a penance worth offering.
posted in Beach Street
RE: A Far Distant Shore
Rogan's focus remained on his own navi as the other creature tried to explain the situation; he listened, but his eyes stayed on Lyntael, watching her struggle for calm and filter through the conversation before her with more cautious good-nature than he knew he would have managed at her age, and after what had just happened. Despite his worries, he watched her set aside her own distress and discomfort and reach out instead. The same insidious whispers of thought that had been scratching at his subconscious clawed at the back of his mind again; of course she could do that, and did it by instinct... he'd forced her to, again and again, until she was used to putting her own fears and discomfort aside for others. With a brief sigh, he rubbed at his temples with one hand. This was a little different... and it was something he really did not want to escalate before she could sort it out for herself.

“If I may...” He broke into the conversation before Lyntael could volunteer herself for more of the same. “Eurayle, was it? I do not wish for Lyntael to accrue any more blood on her hands in that way. I would spare her that, for the time being. It is not something a person should be asked to do lightly, no matter the good cause.” He tried to pick phrasing that would stop Lyntael herself from objecting to his decision, and shifted the dialogue away from the hunting of other flesh- and blood-like, life-like programs, towards firmer ground. Lyntael might normally have objected to him refusing their help to someone who asked, but this time Rogan could see that there was definitely a part of her that was quietly relieved, beneath the outward apologetic expression she showed Eurayle as he spoke for them both. She'd been tense and withdrawn until he interjected; it was subtle but definitely there to his eye, until she relaxed at his words.

At least it didn't sound like any situation that any of the people he was cautious about were connected to; another little group with their own plans, trying to make a foothold and stay out of the warpath of the bigger names. Her story about one of the mafia navis fighting one of the cybeast entities was intriguing and he filed it away, but more than anything it confirmed to him that the ones Lyntael was talking to right now weren't any really threat; just one more independent slapped down by a greater power and warned not to annoy the bigger fish.

It took another few moments for them to conclude the necessary pleasantries with the other navigator-program – Rogan wasn't quite sure if she ought to still be called that, given her current more of existence, but he had to resign himself to the idea that it was largely semantics – unoperated and abandoned navis were still called navis, even if they no longer served the purpose of navigation for an operator, after all. As if to juxtapose the thought itself, he caught the words that Lyntael was speaking to the other woman as they said their goodbyes, her voice gentle and considerate, despite everything of the past few minutes.

“...You're a person, and whatever ever else you've done with your life, whatever else has been done to you in turn, you deserve to be seen. Everyone does. Okay?” The words caught him off-guard and hit him in the chest like a solid impact. He felt himself wince, shoving down the ball of self-loathing that made itself known in the pit of his stomach once again. He knew she wasn't doing it deliberately; she wasn't directing the words at him... but he still felt them all the same. How long would it last, he caught himself wondering as he watched Lyntael begin to move on again. How long would the good natured care that she showed to everyone around her feel like weapons and blows without her even noticing? At least... he hoped she didn't notice.

Rogan sipped his drink, glancing away from the display and out over the tourist-packed beach. The silence between them lingered for long moments while he sought for something to break it with. They wold need to talk about more serious matters later, but that was a conversation for privacy and safe spaces. He caught himself contemplating the strangeness of it for a moment; here he was, awkwardly seeing a conversation topic to engage his navi with, but he couldn't put his finger on why he felt the need to. They were both use dot working in silence, talking only as important matters came up. Often Lyntael would talk and chatter to him outside that, and he'd humour it, but now, it felt reversed somehow, and he couldn't quite understand why. He still felt the need though. Something she'd mentioned during her talk with Eurayle rose to the surface of his mind.

“I wasn't aware you frequented any conspiracy theory sites, Lyntael...” Truth be told, he knew very little about the cybeast situation, beyond the general knowledge that most people had of the situation. He had to allow to himself that he probably actually knew a little bit less than even that, just because the oddities of strange programs rarely had any bearing on his work. He watched Lyntael shrug slightly on the screen, but the close up view of her features showed him a flicker of something else – something slightly shy. What could that be about?

“I read message boards, sometimes. I was... I was trying to read up on the net war, first of all... Aurora was involved in it, and I wanted to...” Ah. That would explain the girl's tentative reaction. This was something he hadn't had any idea or inclination of how to deal with before everything... now... now he felt like he somehow was even less prepared, against all logic. She really ought to be talking to Eric about this; if anyone would be equipped to act as her parental figure int his it was him. Rogan swallowed and took another sip of his drink as she ventured her explanation a little further, then tried to do his best.

“You... feel affection, for them, Lyntael?” A clumsy start. It really ought to be Eric... especially since he knew full well that, in talking to him about this, Lyntael probably didn't want mature or parental advice... But then, what was she expecting of him, given how she felt?

“Um, I... I don't know. I really don't. It's... confusing.” She sounded hesitant, and he could see the first symptoms of a nervous blush beginning on her cheeks. “They're nice, and I care about them. I wonder what they're doing. I want to see them. I've had... Thoughts, feelings, you know what I mean...” Rogan fought off the urge to cough as some part of breathing and swallowing like a normal person temporarily failed him. Sudden uncertainty struck him; she'd tried to show a desire for affection to him in the past; wanted him to see her in ways he just couldn't... but maybe that had indeed changed, now; maybe she did just want advice after all? Talking about your more heated fantasies still wasn't exactly the kind of thing he felt a girl of her age should be talking to someone like him about... but... He cleared his throat.

“I'm not sure how I should feel about—”
“I love you, Rogan, I really do...” She cut him off suddenly before he could venture the thought any further. On the screen, he could see that her walking pace had picked up, her steps firm and hard; an unconscious extension of the determination to push on he could hear in her voice. “And for the longest time, I knew that that was a feeling I was throwing into the void, because you didn't see... and I hoped and wished, and told myself that if you did understand, it might be different.” More knives. He closed his eyes and turned his head away slightly, unable to keep watching her figure on the screen. What could he even say about that that wouldn't feel trite or formulaic?
“Lyntael, I—”
“Let me finish, please.” Again, she cut over him; her voice wavered and he could hear the threatening of a wet crack in it. Without looking at the screen he could imagine her clenched jaw and hard expression. Internally, Rogan tried to brace himself for the rest of what was coming; it would all be deserved, and she had the right to say it. He held his tongue and she continued after taking a longer breath.

“I knew, I think, even then, I knew that even if you did see, that it wouldn't be what I wanted. I know now, now that we can talk like this, and I know that you understand that I'm here, and that these feelings are real... I know that even if you do care about me, and love me, it won't be... it won't be... It won't be the way that I love you. That's not, how you see me. I understand that.” And there it was again. What was the right thing to do, to say? He wished he knew. Rogan rested one elbow on the artfully wrought iron cafe table and let his face press into his hand, trying to think of what he could say. It seemed like there was nothing he could say at all that wouldn't hurt her in some way, but he had to answer somehow.

After another moment he looked up again and drew a long breath, focusing on the screen again and looking at Lyntael properly; every detail – each scattered freckle, each wild, messy hair out of place, the way sand was clinging to her feet as she walked along the beach; her form, young but definitely maturing, even if she would always be slight; her outfit, cute and playful, but definitely the choice of someone who wanted to be seen as feminine. His eyes reached the torn section of her vest, where the top catch had pulled away and the dampness of it still clung to her chest, defining the body underneath in perfect detail. Rogan turned his head away, looking off to the side again. Maybe she was a young woman; maybe she was ready to start having those thoughts and feelings, and... pursuing a life that included such things... but he still couldn't see that in her, not without feeling lecherous and vile. She was still waiting on his response, and he drew a breath.

“No, Lyntael, it's not. I do care for you, and I regret... my failures.” He spoke softly, as gently as he could; there as no way to say it without hurting. He did love her, he could admit that now... but... “But you are Eric's little girl, and I couldn't ever—”
“I know. I know, Rogan. It's okay.” She cut him off, her initial words sharpened by a moment of panic and rejection; he understood. She didn't want to hear it, no matter how kindly spoken it was. She was holding back emotion, even now – It wasn't okay, despite what she said; they both knew that. “It's... okay. It is what it is, and I'm... I'm glad, so glad, that we have this chance, now, at all. That I'm here, and you're here, and we can see each other, truly and honestly. I'm glad, even when parts of it hurt. There was a part of me that believed a day like this would never come.” Rogan felt his fist clench and his jaw tighten... even when they both did their best, it seemed like they were destined to keep hurting each other. Why was this how it was, even now, when he was trying to be better?

“I'm sorry, Lyntael.” A dozen conversations, more... always the same. Heartfelt words, bared hurts, and sorrowful apologies.
“I know.”
“I always have such easy answers for everyone else, Lyntael... but so often we seem to end our conversations with those words, one way or the other.”
“I guess it means we're still trying. That counts for something, right?” She was doing her best to sound hopeful, but the familiarity of their exchange was weighing on her too, he was sure.
“I hope so.”
posted in Beach Street
RE: A Far Distant Shore

Sure enough, before they reached any kind of any actual meeting point, the escort was interrupted by something much more obviously violent and Rogan's brows drew down in focus as he took in its features. People could make navigators look like anything they wanted, of course, and to any degree of monstrous or strange if it tickled their fancy, but there was still something wild and broken about the creature.

“Hey! Easy there!” Lyntael's call came as she reached a decision in the seconds that it took her guide to 'explain'. “Back up, all of you... Come on, over here... just look at me...” She worked to get the other viruses to move clear and take the larger creature's attention herself. He wasn't surprised... even when she'd been terrified of everything, she had still preferred to risk herself rather than see others in danger. Now, with her extra confidence, it was almost a certainty.

He didn't exactly trust that anything that happened here and now wasn't some part of some bigger plan by the ones that had first attacked Lyntael... One of them needed to stay cautiously cynical, and he knew it wouldn't be her – she always wanted to trust everyone.

“Okay, fine... let's pretend I believe you for now.” Rogan had barely processed the thought when her next words reached him. Her expression was hard and untrusting as she glanced away form anyone else, clearly talking to the voice that had just asked for help. Rogan felt something sharp twist inside him for a moment and he pushed it away; it was good that she wasn't going to trust the other woman's story blindly. He should be relieved. As she kept talking, Rogan felt himself lean his head to one side, almost unconsciously as he grappled with the stance she was taking. She didn't trust that the woman was being honest with her, but she was still going to protect them. She clearly wasn't happy, in the moment, but she was certain. So certain that she was already fighting on their behalf against the creature, with barely a moment's warning.

There was a bigger problem, Rogan realised, as seconds ticked by and his navi made her stand; monstrous and insapient programs were one thing, but if this creature was as the voice had described, then there was no way that Lyntael wouldn't... He watched her dart in close and reach up to lay a hand on the creature's chest, speaking to it even as it took another swipe at her, landing blows that would have harmed her terribly if not for the defences surrounding her, but it wasn't the hits that made him wince.

“If there's anything left in there, struggling to hold onto yourself or trying to be seen... I'm here, and I'm watching, and I'm listening... And if there isn't enough, and you don't have the strength, then I'm here, and I'll be with you when it ends. You won't be alone.” Rogan grit his teeth as she spoke the words. Of course she chose to see it as a person... but even though he'd been sure of it, the words she spoke made his breath feel tight. How, after everything that she'd ended up going through, and all the things she could now remember experiencing in full... how was that what mattered most to her? The treacherous part of his heart knew the answer, of course... she wasn't directing the words at him, but he felt them anyway. It was what she'd needed, when she suffered and felt invisible. What she'd needed, and he hadn't given; what she never wanted anyone else to ever feel.

The creature didn't appreciate her concern, or so it seemed, but somehow, Rogan knew that Lyntael surely had no regrets for her effort. It struck again, shattering what remained of her defences and leaving the girl exposed to actual injury. Rogan knew that as far as navigators went, it was all just write protection buffer, and everything else was cosmetic... and he knew, too, that that wasn't quite true for his navi specifically. He saw her falter as the strikes from the creature dragged across her; unable to harm, this time... yet he could see, in her eyes and he expression, just for a moment, Lyntael was somewhere else.

“Lyntael, focus.” He wasn't going to chastise her for trying to reason with the beast, but a fight was a fight, and there was no talking her way out of this one... this was no time to be letting past events take hold. Even without that, though... there was also, he was sure, no emergency protection or special safety mechanism on the creature she was facing... the creature she was choosing to view as a person, worthy of care. Some part of him wanted to tell her to run away; to spare herself what a looming sense of dread told him was coming. If they were lucky, the program would simply resolve into simply data, and it wouldn't seem any more real than anything else.

He blinked as he looked at the screen again, then checked the other elements of the display to confirm what he was seeing. Lyntael had relaxed her stance, standing still and turning her face upwards to breath, as though she wasn't in the middle of a desperate battle. She seemed... bright, on his screen. The rolling clouds had broken into pouring rain, and as she checked the spread of the effect, sure enough it was focused directly around Lyntael as its epicentre. He couldn't claim to know too much about the sorts of networks that navigators traversed, but he was.. fairly sure... that manipulating a network's local weather patterns was not something that a navigator without special access was meant to be able to do. Her status had gone blank; a whiteout of static with no information, but as the creature attacked her again, its weapon passed through without connecting, as if Lyntael wasn't even real. Rogan's brow furrowed as he looked at her. No... as though the weapon wasn't. She still hadn't moved, though cracks of lightning flashed on the overview and sparks rolled off her in waves. Rogan dared to clear his throat softly on the line.

“When I said focus, Lyntael... I did mean, on the fight.” The effect was immediate, as though his words had pulled her from a trance. When she moved, it was... well, if he had been feeling poetic, he might have said she moved like wind and lightning. It took her scarce seconds to end the battle with an almost horrifying degree of precision and power. He found himself controlling the urge to flinch as the former navi died violently. So much for simple data dissolution.

Rogan couldn't help the grimace that tugged at his features as he watched Lyntael's reaction, all too familiar. Whatever trance-like state she'd been in flickered and faded and she stumbled back. With the communication view up, he could see the shock and sudden horror flash across her face, followed by the unmistakable look of someone about to throw up. He understood, intimately, what the girl in front of him was feeling and fought off the urge punch his fist into the cafe table. It wasn't right. Putting it off might have been hopeless, in the end, but he'd still hoped to spare her this for as long as possible.

Instead, he watched her lean on the wall, fighting heaves and trying to breath. It was too familiar; the taste of bile in your mouth, mixed with blood. The air, thick and foul, not enough to fill your lungs; not enough air in the air to breathe. Your own injuries forgotten in the face of what you did; too much blood and someone living now dead, by your own hand, even if you tried to tell yourself you had no choice. How he hated those words. His own mouth felt dry and his chest was tight as he drew a breath and calmed himself.

“Lyntael... listen to me. Listen to my voice.” He spoke, quiet and firm, unsure exactly where the words came from but determined to help if he could. “Focus on breathing, Lyntael. The air is clean, even if it doesn't feel that way. Just breathe.” Close by, one of the serving staff at the small cafe approached, probably to ask if he wanted anything else, but she paused when she took in Rogan's intent focus. He waved her off with one hand, and for a mercy she went. One the screen, he could see Lyntael trying to take longer breaths, eyes closed tight. “You are alright, Lyntael. Centre yourself and focus on that. Don't dwell, not for now.” There would be time to deal with your thoughts and feelings later; dwelling on the immediate action would just make you spiral. Physical calm first. Grounding and stability. “Spit if you have to, and drink if you can. It will help.” She looked like she'd staved of the retching, at least, but cleaning out your mouth would still help you feel cleaner, at least in the short term. He watched her steady herself. Good. The rest would be discomfort to deal with in safer spaces... that was always how it went.

“I'm... I'm okay. I... I just... I didn't...” Her voice was too painfully close to the nervous girl he remembered, but Rogan did his best to respond with calm reassurance.
“I know. I was not expecting that.” In his peripheral he noted the approach of another navigator... probably the voice that had guided them here. “We will talk about this, Lyntael, but not here. You have company.” It was not a conversation he was looking forward to, but now it was necessary. Rogan shook his head and pushed away the rising swell of unwanted memories, but a sense tickling in his mind whispered that trailing threads were becoming the knots of a net, and running wasn't going to work much longer.
posted in Beach Street
RE: A Far Distant Shore

The sounds of sunny beach-goers and excited theme-park enthusiasts continued to make a strange and discordant backdrop to the thoughts that Rogan turned over in his mind as he watched his navigator press further into danger on in her pursuit of answers to the smaller conundrum she'd happened upon during this supposedly simple outing. Once his other work had been taken care of, he'd shut down his laptop and slipped it back into his bag but now he pulled it out again, a thoughtful expression on his features. It only took a moment to shift the viewing output to the larger screen, and split it into a few different elements that the PET could normally only show him one of at a time. Most of the time, when he worked with Lyntael, it was purely through audio while his hands were full with other tasks, or else it was a glance here and there to check her status or statistics. Occasionally – though more frequently lately – he would let the view settle on the display that represented her location and surrounds in whatever network she was in, instead, and that had always been more than enough to get an idea of the girl's disposition, even if what was rendered was more of a drawn back, eagle-eyed view of her situation.

Rather than any of those elements, however, his eyes focused instead on the direct communication view – the one that was always disabled. It was a natural part of the personable intent of any interaction; the desire to see the face of the one you were talking to; but Rogan had never had any need for it really. He looked at it now. It captured a feed of her much more closely; a portrait capture intended for face to face discussion, and Rogan could see the messy, wild strands of her hair, the light dusting of faint freckles across her cheeks, and the hard expression in the deep green of her eyes.

His mind drifted back to some of the things Eric had enthused about when telling him of his 'sunseed' project. He hadn't really understood most of it, and hadn't paid much attention to the bits he could have understood. Between one soft blink and the next, he noticed that several of her delicate eyelashes were sticking together. How much had Eric designed with meticulous care, and how much had been left to chance, unknowable until it was complete?

Her expression hadn't shifted much as a different element of the screen showed him another ambush springing around her and the girl shifting into a cautious, defensive stance. She was concerned; he could see that up close. Concerned, maybe a little worried, but not frightened. There was a note of frustration too, as her gaze moved across the space around her, assessing everything in quick heartbeats of time.

“I'm going to suggest, Lyntael... not friendly this time.” He murmured the words, barely parting his lips to speak them as he watched her react. The worry wasn't for herself, he realised. It was for the metool virus that had been following her. A small crease formed at one corner of his lips. Of course it was.

She spoke with confidence; decisive and certain, without the shaking hesitation or quavering he was accustomed to hearing from her in dangerous moments. People grew and changed, they learned and were shaped by the difficulties of their lives; he knew that... but the thought in his mind persisted, bringing an echo of pain to his chest: would his Lyntael ever have grown to become this girl... could she have, if he'd only learned his own lessons sooner? If he'd been faster when it really mattered? He caught his own thoughts a moment later – it didn't help anything to think of her that way. This girl, now, was 'his Lyntael'... she'd even told him that she remembered everything... but some changes were indelible, and they were part of her story now, no matter the regrets.

Once more, as he watched, her determination to give her foes a chance gave way to an unexpected result. He had to admit, he was a little bit intrigued by the unfolding situation, even if it was largely inconsequential to anything of import. For as long as the net had existed, people had been hiding things in secret locations across it, and as more and more of their net had become increasingly unconnected to any physical data centres, the sheer malleability of ethereal data spaces had made the the hiding of things within it exponentially more needle-and-haystack... He shook his head, grinning at the thought; it was a poor euphemism these days, in truth. The near infinite possibilities let the reality far outstrip to colloquial now. Even so... A group in hiding, working on some sort of virus-based experiments. Likely one of many thousands, but still the ones they'd stumbled across. He did wonder what they were up to.

More to the point though... he watched as the cluster of viruses escorted Lyntael deeper into the city, towards whoever the mystery speak had been. With an absent curiosity, Rogan retraced and picked up the communication that Lyntael had heard, and attempted to clean it up enough to trace. Whoever the speaker was, they were close at hand, it seemed – a navigator, rather than a human operator, though they likely still spoke on behalf of one. More 'trained' viruses meant increasing danger, especially if it was giving them more time to bring other navigators into place as well. Rogan tapped a few keys and checked some of his more recent contingencies.

“Lyntael... I am watching, but are you sure about this? My instinct tells me that whether our mastermind here wishes to talk or not, you are walking into violence that grows increasingly stacked against you the longer you stave it off with words.” He was nodding along to her affirmative even before she spoke; he'd known what her response would be before he'd finished his own cautious words.
posted in Beach Street
RE: A Far Distant Shore
It was, he had to admit, a strange feeling. Rogan continued to work, sorting information and doing research in innocuous ways that couldn't raise any kind of suspicion, but as he kept one eye on Lyntael's progress and activity, he was keenly aware that his other tasks were mostly busy-work. It wasn't like a stake-out, or waiting for a particular moment in a plan – here it was just... as though her were relaxing, with little to do, and the sensation was borderline uncomfortable. Lyntael would probably tell him that he'd forgotten how to relax, or take time for himself. He glanced at the screen again, a wry twist at one corner of his lips. Perhaps he couldn't even claim she'd be wrong.

It was hard to accept though, not when they had serious, dangerous and important work on the horizon. This was still preparation for that, after a fashion, but it didn't stop it feeling like an excuse for being unproductive. Lyntael needed to grow comfortable with herself and what her capabilities were now, after everything that had happened, and since she still needed to work alone, it left him little to do but busy himself with background activity.

He took another sip of his drink and looked out over the sunny beach front and the rolling waves beyond. The cool breeze and shade from the baking heat; milling throngs of tourists and beach-goers, the regular sounds of theme-park rides and their over-excited passengers... Yes, it definitely felt like making an excuse for being lazy. The drink even had a thin slice of lemon in amongst the ice. After another moment, Rogan looked at the PET screen again, while Lyntael held her ground and addressed the hostiles around her.

“Lyntael... it will be very difficult for you to assess your combat strength if you try to avoid every fight.” A part of him understood that she was trying to work out more than just her fighting capabilities, but it still left him feeling like her current path of resolutions wasn't really getting her anywhere. She spoke back without relaxing her stance or growing distracted from what was before her, her words a more clear articulation of what he'd suspected she'd say. He caught himself sighing softly, then stopped and refocused, looking at the situation again.

Despite the mounting danger, the girl before him was still calm; her heart rate was up, and her bio-metrics – which he was gradually getting better at reading – suggested that she was still a little tense, and a little nervous... but she looked confident and in control all the same. Not the terrified but determined brave face she would try to show in the early day, nor the reckless anger and aggression she'd began to display after.... his thoughts still skipped articulating it, even in his mind. After. It really was different to see.

Rogan glanced up and nodded, tapping the now empty glass as a name-tagged young woman stopped by the table to collect it and ask if he'd like anything else. Once she left, Rogan returned his attention to Lyntael's screen, listening as she gave an ultimatum to another group of viruses on her trek. He cleared his throat.

“Actaully, Lyntael...” He spoke a correction to her, but even as he reminded Lyntael about her very real bounty hunt, he knew that the issue wasn't really much of one. He wasn't bothered by it, or by her resistance to pursuing it, not really... it just made it feel like they were doing something more productive. There was a feeling that he couldn't quite place as he watched her; even if he felt it was pointless effort and a waste of time, seeing her act with the confidence to give those second chances, and, he had to admit.. after everything he'd put her through, still with the heart to give them as well... He wasn't really sure what the spark of feeling was, but it brought another hint of a smile to his features. Still, the danger increased the further she went with open palms. He amended his initial correction as, sure enough, the nearby viruses seemed uninterested in words. “And you're only endangering yourself by not quelling the immediate threats swiftly.” Lyntael answered as she fought, her voice level despite a slight panting of exertion.

“Maybe... But that's my choice this time, and I'm making it.” Rogan felt a sharp lurch in his chest and he winced at her words. Choice. Choice was what it always came down to; you can't be free unless you can make your own choices, and you can't make your own choices unless you have choices to make. He and Eric had both made choices in pursuit of true freedom, and as proof of their ability to exercise it. Choices that had left ruin in their wake, and blood on his hands. He pushed the unwanted memories away.

His eyebrows drew down slightly as he watched the fight she'd been pulled into; despite the situation, the girl wasn't acting against the viruses around her; instead, he watched her methodically bring down the defences that had forced them into the cage match situation in the first place. The unwelcome memories pressed at the edges of his thoughts again as he listened to her speaking.

“This fight isn't any of yours, and it's not one you'll win. Go live your lives somewhere else... that's my offer.” She sounded a little out of breath, but sure of herself all the same. Rogan felt his brow crease as the simple, surface-level situation conjured uncomfortable parallels in his mind. Locked in and forced to fight to survive; to hurt, or to be hurt, and her choice was... to try for something different.

Lyntael had told him that she was trying to work out who she was now, and who she wanted to be... and somehow, the thought whispered in his mind, who she was choosing to be was a far better person than he had ever managed. But he knew that, didn't he? Maybe she couldn't see it for herself, but, even at her most terrified and helpless, even at her most furious and rash, with guileless authenticity she was always... his thoughts reached for a description that they couldn't pin down until they settled on the best truth they could find... she was always herself. He brushed the moment of introspection to one side and cleared his throat.

“I'll admit, that was... unexpected... But the point remains, the bounty request you agreed to is not progressed by scaring them off.” Was he diminishing what she was attempting by phrasing it that way? Probably.

“I know, I know... I just... I don't know, Rogan.” She wasn't irritated or put off by him, at least he didn't think so. It sounded more like her own thoughts were as busy as his. “I don't feel like I can just treat this all as black and white. It's supposed to be that simple, for navis and viruses, but it's just not. Maybe it was, back in the beginning, when all the programs here were simple, but I don't think any of us are any more.” It was the same thing that Eric and his other colleagues had tried to convey to him, many times over... but rather than humans insisting on behalf of navis, now it was his navigator insisting on behalf of viruses. Rogan held his tongue for an extra second or two as he watched her divert her attention, crouching to talk to the one virus that had been following her around for some time now. It's behaviour had certainly been strange, but hardly anything on the same complexity as Lyntael herself, or any of the other navigator she'd interacted with in the past. It wasn't something that he could rule out categorically any more... but even so...

“Lyntael...” He tried to pick his words carefully. “It took me far too long to understand that you are a being, in truth, and that you do indeed think, and feel, as I never permitted myself to accept. I know that you want to extend that benefit to every other program you meet, but I do not think there is another program out there on the net as unique as you.” It still hurt to say it, and he could feel sensation in his throat and behind his eyes as the admission carried memories of things he'd rather forget with them... He pushed on. “But you know that there are even whole classes of navigators out there that are known to be simple, insentient, insapient computer programs, fit to task... you can't expect to find a friend in every virus you meet. You will only get hurt doing that.” This much was true; it was a distinction he'd always scoffed at, but it existed throughout all levels of AIs, all across the world, and he'd started to pay more attention to it now. Most still classified all viruses as simple code structures without any kind of life or self-awareness, that just replicated and destroyed, as the definition of any viral program described. The friendly metool at Lytnael's feed didn't look like it cared much about those formal definitions, he had to admit.

“Maybe. These ones... they know what they're doing, I'm sure of it. I don't want to hurt anyone. I don't want to let them continue hurting others.” Lyntael sounded... wistful, as she answered him, still looking at her new companion. It was the common crux of failure in any idealistic outlook. There often wasn't a solution that could make everyone happy, or keep everyone safe. A part of him felt certain that she wouldn't be able to hold onto that peaceful altruism forever, but he also loathed and dreaded facing the day when she sacrificed it.

“And... What will you do?”
“I don't know yet.”
“Well... I'm... watching.” He didn't really know what else to say. Perhaps she understood anyway. As he watched her push further into the ruined city before her, Rogan felt the warring perspectives struggle in his mind; she'd get hurt again, looking for solutions that eventually would not exist. It was a fool's optimism that imagined righting wrongs without also doing harm. At the same time, a small part of him desperately wanted the young girl to succeed where he couldn't.
posted in Beach Street
RE: Coastal Paths
Lyntael stopped for an extra moment to take another breath and let it out more slowly. A small pulse of static rolled off her and diffused into the too-shallow water. As she glanced down at it, seeing her own form at the lower edge of her vision, the slight flush of exertion threatened to become a rosier tone of nervous embarrassment and she let herself relax again. She cast one last cautious eye towards the contented kettle then began scanning for her other clothes, now a good dozen feet away after she'd chased down the last hostile virus. Her sense of relaxation became another brief jolt of panic for an entirely different reason.

“Ah! Don't you dare, not again—!” Her first leisurely wading stride became a more urgent splashing towards the abandoned clothing; her eye had caught the tell-tale sign of beginning data fragmentation, as she knew tended to happen to her things whenever they strayed too far away from her without extra measures to maintain them. She rushed over and grabbed at what she could before it broke apart; her luck always seemed to demand that her underwear became victims of fate before anything else, and she grabbed at the smaller article first, pulling it from the waves before it could fade, but by the time she caught hold of her skirt as well the normally valiant defender of her modesty had already begun to disintegrate heavily. An exasperated sight became a more resigned, rueful shake of her head as she lifted it up to assess the damage and wring the water from it as best she could.

The damage, as it turned out, wasn't complete but it was substantial enough to make the skirt hard to wear at all; a good third of the band had degraded into loose data and washed away, leaving only a ragged strip that she couldn't quite get around her waist at all as she waded out of the water to the edge of the shore. Oh well... the circling breezes beginning to dry her skin continued to draw attention back to her more sensitive exposed areas and Lyntael carefully squeezed as much water as she could from the garment she had rescued successfully and pulled her underwear on before any other random eyes decided to show up.

It was a beach; that was the best mercy she had here. At a distance, anyone would probably assume she was wearing swimwear on her lower half, which was perfectly decent and acceptable. She examined herself with a careful eye as she folded the remaining scrap of her skirt's fabric into a bundle in one hand. Hopefully, no-one would look too closely, if she did run into any other navis... as long as they were still damp like this, the thin white fabric of her underwear didn't really obscure as much as she would have liked. She grimaced as she tried to gauge just how visible the stylised lightning bolt and the personal details it pointed to would be to outside eyes. Hopefully the fabric would dry quickly.

Time to push on. She was supposed to be looking for the source of all the shell viruses that were inundating the area, and if Eurayle's directions were actuate then she had a fair way further down the beach to go before she'd get to the place they were supposedly massing most prominently. She began a more relaxed stroll along the shoreline, toes splashing in the water as she walked along the tide line. With a deep breath she reached out and felt for the wind rolling across the sand, pulling cool air along with her and around her to ruffle at her vest and hair. Even if it was the rouge nets, there were still moments like this where it could seem... pleasant. Lyntael let herself smile.

It was a few moments of quiet walking before Lyntael heard Rogan open their channel again. He didn't speak right away and the channel clicked off again in silence before opening a second time a few seconds later.

“Lyntael, I assume you're content to continue?” Tactical phrasing. He was concerned about her decency but also didn't want to talk about her consistently terrible fate in that respect any more either. She felt her smile become a more wry smirk as she nodded.

“I'm fine, Rogan. Honestly... If I'm really honest, and I think about everything that has happened in the past in situations like this, and how often they seem to occur, this is really pretty mild. I was expecting a... more complete disaster. I'm fine. I don't think we're going to run into any other random navigators down here anyway, just viruses, and most of them really don't even understand what I'm embarrassed about in the first place.” She shrugged her shoulders and glanced around, just to see if her words had tempted fate and summoned a crowd of video-recording news-navis or anything of that nature. The beach remained clear for now.

“I feel... I don't know, Rogan. I'm still finding my rhythm, I think. I can feel the flow and the pulse, the cycle and spiral of my charge...” She took a breath and closed her eyes, turning her face upward slightly again. “The air and the wind all around me, beautiful, like I'd forgotten it could feel...” As she focused forward again she extended a hand in front of herself drew the feeling of energy through her body until small crackles began to dance across her fingers and flash in faint caustics beneath her skin. The paths that the electricity coursed felt hot when she moved the power, across her chest and up and down her limbs, but there was a comfort to the beat of it as well, and it didn't hurt the way it had once, not for small things.

“I feel like I still need... I don't know. It doesn't feel quite... quite like I fit myself, not yet. I don't know how to explain it any better. Like there's so much here, but I don't quite know how to express it properly. And there's pressure still... I... Rogan...?” She frowned as she thought about what she was feeling.

“Hmm?”
“Could you... could you disconnect from me, for a little while? Stay with me, and keep watching, but...”
“Lyntael, I know it maybe what you've grown used to, and I'll still need to do it for our work, but at this point, I'd rather not have you untethered unless it is necessary.” There was a firmness in his voice that told her he didn't want to relent on the point, and Lyntael glanced down at the sand for a moment, unconsciously clasping her hands behind her back as she walked, but she pushed again.

“Please, Rogan. You'll still be with me, and you can patch up again right away if I get in trouble, can't you? I just... I feel like I need this. I need to be... free.” She winced as she said the word. The implication wasn't what she meant, but Rogan was silent for a painfully long few seconds. Eventually he answered in a tone that was quiet and softer than his usual clear tone.

“Every time you've been given the chance... to go, or to stay away, or to live somewhere else.... you always choose to come back, to me. Even when... Even when it seems like the worst choice you could make, and everyone thinks you shouldn't and don't deserve... this. Lyntael; it was easy to accept when I thought of you as a program – it was just how you were made and it ultimately didn't matter so long as you served your purpose... but now... I don't want you to feel... trapped with me.” Lyntael held her tongue while he spoke, rather than interrupt. If it had just been a throw-away word, she mightn't have even thought about it, and it wouldn't have mattered. If it hadn't been something that was already weighing on Rogan's mind, he probably wouldn't have noticed her saying it that way. So she let him finish.

“I don't, Rogan, I promise I don't. I didn't mean it that way, and I really do want to be here, now, with you, helping. I swear it, I do. It's my choice, and it will always be my choice, Rogan, so long as you want me around, or I feel like you need me.” She tried a soft giggle to lighten the serious tone. “And unless you look after yourself better, that second one will be true forever.” On the other side of the line, her operator was quiet for an extra moment, then sighed and laughed softly with her.

“I suppose that's true. In a little while perhaps, I may need to sort out some things here soon regardless.”
“Alright.” Lyntael felt he smile fade as she walked on. Something told her his laughter was as performative as hers.
posted in Beach Rogue Net
RE: Coastal Paths
Charging herself and beginning to try and stabalize the charge within, her vision was certainly much worse off than before as she moved forwards in an attempt to get closer to the Pirahna, it wasn't long before it began to fire at her again, spear flying forward and nearly catching her, but her blustry winds fended off the frontal assault and sent it into the drink as she shocked the virus just a little bit with her explosive nova (40!!), the virus reeling back as she continued to get closer and closer as it made the attempt to move back in response to her movements just as she got close...just barely out of the second shock that eminated from her body. But the third would clip it just barely, sending shocks through it's body and sent it into the air as it's data would dissipate with no recourse against her. It was a mostly cleaned up fight...and thankfully, it seemed like the Kettle had no intentions to fight as it's "comrades" were finally done and gone. Battle routines would release off of Lyntael and, with it, no more worrying about any more peeking viruses or navis as the Kettle turned it's back to her as if in understanding. Also, that flung away spear seemed to have stuck around...I mean, it looked to be good for some chip data related to the Phirana she just deleted.

-- Viruses --
Piranha2 EXPiranha2 EX (Piranha)

Piranha viruses work as a hive-mind. They all move at the same time, attempt to detect targets at the same time, and once a targets is detected by any of them, they all attack that one target at the same time. Moving and searching for targets takes one action. Attacking takes another. Any Piranha just recovering from a status effect that prevents normal operation will resume acting in unison with the rest of the group.

Area: Yoka, Dentech, Beach

HP: 150
Attack Damage/Effect: 20 Aqua x 3 Shots
Attack Accuracy: B
Attack Description: Locks on and fires 3 tridents.
Element: Aqua
Possible Rewards (Per Virus): TriSpear, TrainArrow2, Zenny
Special: Floating. When multiple Piranha virii are on the field at once, they attack one target as a group.
: Faded away
SuperKettle EXSuperKettle EX (Kettle)

Kettle do not attack unless and until they are attacked. This behavior does not count as a Counter or a Trap. It's simply what they do. Moving and dodging require actions, while retaliating against attacks does not. All Kettle have passive Regen. When this virus is attacked with non-Fire Damage below its max HP, it will boil over to attack nearby enemies with Aqua Damage equal to the damage taken. This effect does not damage allies. If the damage is greater than or equal to its current HP, the virus is also deleted after the counter attack. If not, the Kettle will regenerate a portion of its HP and continue on as normal. When this virus is attacked with Fire Damage, it will boil over to attack nearby allies dealing exactly its max HP in Aqua Damage. This effect will not damage enemies. The virus is automatically deleted after boiling over in this case.

Area: Netopia, Beach

HP: 160 Degrees
Attack Damage/Effect: Variable Damage Aqua (Max 160) + Nova4
Attack Accuracy: C
Attack Description: Boils over and releases geyser explosion when attacked. Boil-over damage never exceeds the virus' max HP. See Notes for more details.
Element: None
Possible Rewards (Per Virus): LittleBoiler2, Zenny
Special: Regen(80): Passively recovers 80 HP every action.
: 160 HP (Sea) (Full and happy from absorbing the seawater, about half-way out at this point)
WallandWalland (Walla)

TwinFangs can actually block attacks. This is very useful to the Walla, as they do not move or dodge once battle begins.

Area: Yoka, Beach, Sharo

HP: 160
Attack Damage/Effect: 60 Null x 2 Targets
Attack Accuracy: A
Attack Description: Opens mouth to launch a pair of steel spikes at the enemy. The spikes can block or deflect incoming attacks, and they cannot strike the same target twice.
Element: None
Possible Rewards (Per Virus): TwinFang2, Zenny
: YOU NO LONGER EXIST YOU FOOL!
ShellnerdShellnerd (ShellGeek)

Shellgeeks alternate actions between attacking and guarding. These are the only actions Shellgeeks may perform, and the first action of every battle is always guarding. Shellgeeks will not break from this pattern unless forced to by status effects. The secondary attack of Shellgeeks can be used to grant an ally of this virus a free movement, or even to knock an ally out of the path of an oncoming attack.

Area: Yoka, Sharo, Beach, Okuden Valley

HP: 140
Primary Attack Damage/Effects: 20 Null x 2 Spears
Primary Attack Accuracy: B
Primary Attack Description: Fires two spears at one target.
Secondary Attack Damage/Effects: 40 Null
Secondary Attack Accuracy: B
Secondary Attack Description: Fires a star tipped arrow. Can be used on an ally to move them. Causes no damage to allies.
Element: Aqua
Possible Rewards (Per Virus): TripleNeedle, StarArrow2 (Rare), Zenny
Special: Attacks every other action. IronBody when not attacking.
: SELF DELETION!!!1! (Ping!)

-- Navis --
Lyntael.EXE: 350 HP (Sand) (Invisible1, ends start of next turn)(Barrier40)(Casing10) (Off-target3 (2 applied next round, 1 the turn after)(Self-slow1) (Roughly right on the shoreline, feet in the sand)

-- Terrain -- (The area is mainly Sand, with the "back" part of the field walled with a large rock and mud wall, it seems mostly unclimbable to lack of foot and handholds, with too much of an incline to climb up the muddy parts)

30% Sea
  • Fire Elementals lose 10 HP/action standing, 20 HP/action submerged. Other Non-Aqua Elementals lose 5 HP/action submerged. Nullified for Aqua Elementals.
  • Ice attacks: 50% Freeze1 chance, Changes terrain hit to Ice.
  • Terrain changes between Sea and Onsen do not inflict damage upon submerged entities, nor do they eject submerged entities to the surface.
  • Elec attacks: +100% Source Damage.
  • PanelShot: Imbue Aqua.
(The Main Coastline)
70% Sand
  • -20% Evasion and reduced movement speed to all.
  • Can Burrow as standard action, incurable Blind1 until turn after exiting Burrow.
  • Wind attacks: +100% Source Damage + Blind1, change terrain hit to Normal, trigger Sandstorm for 3 turns: Lose 5 HP/action, Blind1, Fire attacks gain Slashing.
  • Fire attacks: Change terrain hit to Glass.
  • Terrain changes between Sand and QuickSand do not inflict damage upon burrowed entities, nor do they eject burrowed entities to the surface.
  • PanelShot: Blind1.
(The beachline that has been graciously cleaned up)

-- Objects --
BMD: EARLY OPENED! (+9000z at battle end)

Battle Win!
8100z, 17 Bugfrags, TrainArrow2Effect: Adds +40 Aqua to Buster Shot Attack
Accuracy: Buster Accuracy = A
Description: Allows the user to fire Aqua Spears from buster.
Duration: 6 Uses.
Element: Aqua
Special: Overrides Buster. Disables Charged Shot.
Trader Rank: C

BMD reward: 9000z
posted in Beach Rogue Net
RE: Coastal Paths
Despite her best efforts, Lyntael stumbled, staggering in the knee-deep water while the faint roll of the tide continually kept her off-balance. She did her best to shake the tingling buzz from her limbs but it was little use with the increasing pace of her charge filling her body again; it wasn't painful yet, but it was impeding her. The static made her extremities feel clumsy and distant, and the sensation was making her more aware than ever of the way the swirling breezes around her were flowing against parts of her body that really should be covered. She grit her teeth and forced herself to refocus.

The piranha had been thrown away but it was still launching spear shots at her as rapidly as it could; at least the other virus wasn't getting itself involved. Lyntael began to close with the one remaining hostile, doing her best to avoid any on-coming spears even if dodging in the wade-depth tide was awkward. Her charge wanted to burst; it strained beneath her skin to expend again but she held it back and allowed her body to pulse energy in softer, more even fans of sparks as she drew close to her target.

The virus wasn't too much threat now, she knew that, but she had to do better balancing herself and keeping herself under control. Winds whipped about her as the repeating rolls of static spread out from her, but any time her quarry got knocked further back Lyntael shifted with it, trying to stay close. In between ,as she manoeuvred about the violently-inclined fish, Lyntael made quick jabs and sharper follow-through strikes, trying to take what opportunities she could to debilitate the creature while she focused on calming her charge and bringing it back down to stability; that was what she really needed to work on in these moments. She could feel the lack of her usual precision with each movement while the lingering sensation from earlier expends made her limbs slower to respond but she focused on trying to make each little shot count when a moment presented itself.

In a break between the brief flurry of blows, Lyntael hopped back a step, and glanced back over her shoulder to keep the other virus in sight while she took a measured breath and let it out again. It still hadn't shown any violent inclination – just a desire to fill up on water.

“Hey... If you aren't going to be a danger to anyone else out here, I don't have a problem with you, okay? Maybe try not to surprise someone while they're trying to wash next time!” She called across to it and shifted to one side so she could keep her guard up and watch it without losing track of the piranha, if it was still an issue.

Summary
L*) Knock Back effects are Double Strength, and attacks with them gain Wind type
L1) Action Precluded: Buster Charge
L*) Turbulence: Frontal Deflection against shot or lobbed (hands free, layer 5)
L2) My Faith Can Heal, with time for laughter (Buster Charge, Feint, Movement, 10Elec Nova2, Knockback, Self-Slow (1 Rank, 1 round)) (Overcharge -2)
L3) My Fear Swells, but I hold tight (Dodge, 20Elec Nova2, Knockback, Charge-Burner) (Overcharge +1)
L*) Fast Armour: 20Hp (10Hp) Casing Refresh
L4) Take Aim
L5) Basic Buster Strike: (30, Disarm x 5 Hits, B (A, Off-Target 2, Take Aim)), to Piranha
L6) A Fresh Start, and the will to live (15Hp Sacrifice up front, Status Cure, SupportBase(20), Feint) (Overcharge -2)

Cooldowns and Overcharge
My Fear Swells, but I hold tight (3TCD)
My Vision Alters, yet I see through (2TCD)
My Soul Screams, and yet I fight (2TCD)
My Heart Falters, yet beats anew (2TCD)
My Faith Can Heal, with time for laughter (3TCD)
My Fear Rejected, with hopeful stride (2TCD)
My Anger Directed, 'gainst violent threat (2TCD)

Overcharge: Begin: +6, My Faith Can Heal (-2), My Fear Swells (+1), A fresh Start (-2), End: +3
posted in Beach Rogue Net