❀: Ten favorite quotes by the character
- "Let me explain to you the facts of life. Virus meets Administrator; or, alternatively, boy meets girl. And they fuck, and she gets knocked up - infected - and then some nice user does the Admin a favor and cuts the virus out. It’s simple as that.”
- "Whatever was going on last night … you all need to get laid."
- "Don’t you whatever me, father dearest.”
- “Don’t look so pleased, glitch, I can’t let anyone else kill you. It’d take the fun out of it.”
- “The black guard doesn’t do much of anything, from what I’ve learned.”
- "As if you could derezz me!”
- "Aren’t we something rather like friends, Ozias?"
The viruses will admire anyone … perhaps what they need is a messiah, and I could fit that role. [Written, not spoken.]
- “I can’t make you do anything. That’s a privileged reserved for the basics I’ve infected.”
- “My designation is unimportant. You know me by my name. Vira.”
"You have to make a decision."
No matter how badly he wanted her words to be nothing more than another desperate attempt to have him join her, he knew, this time, she was right. He could not go back to the city, and although he might be able to lurk about the shadows where the glaze of golden light did not extend, he could never keep it up forever. There was nothing left for him. His allegiance to CLU for nearly all his cycles that he dared to remember, had meant nothing when the evidence of his broken code and corrupted memory files had been discovered. An imperfection - that’s what he was, who’d plagued the Luminary’s army under the guise of a “loyal soldier.” The endless kills, the high targets eradicated, the shady tasks he had performed efficiently and without question, were all erased when this one mere imperfection reared it’s corrupted code. There truly was nothing left for him, and he was utterly alone…Except for her.
Ozias’s head turned just slightly to let his eyes peer over his shoulder and lazily observe the subtle, yellow lines of broken, infectious code that squirmed their way out certain cracks in her suit. Lines that would be his to adorn should he choose to join her over imminent death - or worse. He sighed deeply though his nose and raised his chin, stare shifting elsewhere across the rocky expanse of wasteland that was the Outlands. “All of my obedience…For nothing.” He wanted to go into why he’d modified himself, how the corruption came to exist, the relevance of his longtime companion and once best friend, his lieutenant, Roz, but he couldn’t. The utterance of such pitiful emotions would likely sicken her, and he despised the very idea as soon as it was considered. But what did he want, then? Could he really choose to become the yellow-eyed servant she’d wanted out of him for so long? He’d been a slave to a tyrant this long, was changing sides to fulfill the same position, really any different?
"What will it be like?" He paused and his stare intensified with the squint of his colorless eyes which he turned on her. "Truthfully."
Vira had her ways of knowing what was happening in the Occupation, and when word of Ozias’s immanent rectification - or deresolution, she didn’t read that carefully - she’d been on the move, barely a snapped order to her father to ‘look after the children’ before she was gone.
And now she was crouched a bare foot away from him, her hands kept safely to herself. There was no forcing him - Ozias, she knew, would have to make the choice himself, or else she’d spend the rest of her existence fighting him.
She was silent as he spoke, just an oddly intense gaze fixed on his face.
"Infection?" She cocked her head to the side, oddly quiet as she considered. "Painful," she admitted finally. "It’s painful." She considered all the aspects she knew - her infected were different from her, of course, because she wasn’t a program like them. "But … powerful. You have to constantly be alert so you don’t infect someone you don’t want to spend the rest of your life with." She laughed, meeting his eyes. "But I don’t really know, darling. I’ve never been anything else."
Interesting she would say that, because he didn’t know anything else either. So many cycles fighting and battling to a point in his runtime he’d restricted himself to remember, and then no further without instigating his own torment. But he’d reflected on his past long enough, and knew that it was prominent to his continuation, that he move on.
Despondently, Ozias turned around to face her, and took in a slow, pained breath to recover his demeanor, but he failed. His shoulders remained hunched and his head slightly lowered with them, gaze meeting hers very briefly before it flicked away to avoid exchanging the apparent weakness with her likely eagerness. This was all good news for her, he knew.
"I’ll make my decision when I’ve witnessed for myself this…style of function you suffer." His reply was made with utter disdain, probably doing no good in inspiring the virus to tolerate him, moping around her territory. But how could he decide if this supposed power under her immediate influence would be better than deresolution? He needed to see for himself the lifestyle she maintained, and while he had no problem enduring what he blindly fancied in her, he was as always disinterested in such a close tie to obedience. With CLU, there had been certain freedoms. But so close to her, he knew those would be minimal…but then again, their interests were already so very similar— oh, it was so confusing for him.
"Until then, you’ll do me the favor of keeping your Infected at a distance?"
His face was strange to her - he seemed out of control, and almost emotional. She’d never seen this side before, and while she was curious about it, she was also on edge. He’d been pushed too hard, and she’d seen what programs past their breaking point could do.
He voiced his request, and she stiffened. “You want to see the Den?” Her voice was guarded, her eyes wary, and she leaned away from him as she spoke. How do I know you’re being honest? rattled in her mind, almost escaped her lips, but she didn’t ask it. She’d read the orders, and while there was a chance this was all an elaborate set up, it seemed unlikely.
Besides, it’s not like she couldn’t just infect him if he betrayed her.
"Fine," she said finally, standing with her usual grace. "Just know that if you’re doing this for any reason besides curiosity, I won’t give you the luxury of choice." She held out her hand, trying to seem casual about the contact.
"You’ll be safe from my infected so long as you’re with me. They know better," she promised, her voice the sort of even she only showed when she was hiding her emotions. "Please don’t make me regret this, Ozias."
How many times had he heard his name spoken by the Virus Queen? Once? Maybe twice? If this were so, he couldn’t remember either. A long pause fell between them as he glanced down at her hand, then back up at her face, to the lips that had been moving in cautious speech. He was well aware of the unusual circumstance, and her need to be guarded, no matter how he might assure her otherwise. In that reality, he didn’t bother. She would find out for herself the desperate truth of his promise.
But she’d said “please” as well, and that threw him off a bit. Whatever respect he’d built for her over the cycles was amplified in those mere statements, along with her agreement. She had no reason other than his request, to turn him into one of the infected now, and yet even still, despite his separation from his own kind, his abandonment, she extended this offer of choice. Only the most sinister could understand that kind of grant of power and trust.
"You wont," he returned at last. "Now if you don’t mind, I need to get as far from the spying eyes of the city as possible…?"
Vira smirked and turned on her heel, beginning to walk. The point she’d spun on was now a crackling yellow - evidently she’d finally gotten her hands on the design of Abraxas’s boots, or she’d gotten her code into someone who could mod her clothes for more circuitry.
"Truth be told, home is not far from the city, darling.” Vira smirked over her shoulder. “We just guard it very well. Nox is oddly adept at steering other programs away - he used to be a guard, if memory serves.” She paused at the end of the street, pulling her hood up over her head. “He can still pretend if he needs to. Follow me.”
Users, she was babbling, wasn’t she? Vira chuckled to herself. She must really be on edge; Nox himself would never let her live it down if he knew.
She lead the former Guard down the backways of the Grid, the buildings getting less and less occupied until they were walking an alley between two abandoned warehouses. The longer they walked, the more yellow began to appear; at first, a patch of corruption in the seam where the wall met the floor, and then a trail along the ground,and then a dent in the wall and corruption crawling from it, as though someone infectious had been thrown into it. Vira touched it lightly as she passed, almost unconsciously. That’s the first time father and I really fought. It’d taken her weeks to heal from the wounds, but the wall had never healed from her impact.
"Not much further, now," she offered, the first words she’d spoken since they started walking. "The family will be pleased to see you. My father won’t be." She chuckled and gave him a slightly strained smile. "Try not to derezz anyone; that’s my job."
backup-grid-creator started following you
“Ƴσυ.”Vira’s voice had lowered, twisted into a snarling hiss. "Ƴσυ ѕнσυƖɗ нανє ѕтαуєɗ ɗєαɗ."
She didn’t know how the user had come back, but she knew that he didn’t deserve it. — but no, he and Quorra had been friends. Quorra had said so.
The knowledge that Quorra approved of the creator barely tempered the knowledge that Ada also approved.
"ǀf уσυ gινє мє ѕумραтну," Vira warned, ”ǀ ωιƖƖ fιηɗ α ωαу тσ ɗєѕтяσу уσυ, υѕєя.”
"Melita, domi adsum," Vira called out in a sing-song voice, the power fist warm on her hand and the machete cool at her hip. She'd gotten bored of the desert, and so she was doing what she always did when bored; try to murder her sometimes-bedfellow. It always proved entertaining, at least.
“I fucking swear,” Ursula snarled as she glared at Vira from under the leather hat. Her upper lip curled upward in a sneer as she unsheathed her kukri, having sensed Vira’s current intentions.
This game they played could be tiring, but for the most part it was extremely enjoyable just because it was entertaining and served as a form of release from other, less pleasant emotions.
"Reginae cor meum," Vira threw out with a pretty smile, "what sort of woman brings a knife to a fistfight?" She pretended to pout as she circled the woman, her fists already up and ready to block or strike as opportunity presented itself.
I came out to attack people and I’m honestly having such a good time right now
Until further notice, this blog is on hiatus.