Making the Rounds (Open!)

[TRAM]

Tram was used to making the rounds at this point, but the one part of Tron City he had never grown to liking had to be the alleyways. There was just something about them that always managed to put him off. It was where all the troublemakers typically tended to be found. He supposed he should be thankful they made it easy for him by grouping together; it certainly made his job simpler when they centered around the same locale.

But there was something about this particular walk-through that had Tram's sensors going haywire. He felt that there was something afoot in the dark alleyways, away from the hustle and bustle where the Users and Programs mingled, but he'd been given no indication that anything at all was out of the ordinary. Most peculiar. Maybe it was--what had Ben called it?--intuition. Did programs have intuition? It was most likely more of a User thing.

Shrugging off his contemplations, Tram continued down the alley, noting that at this distance, one could barely hear any of the noise from the direction he'd come. It was quiet, terribly quiet. He liked quiet just as much as anyone else, but in this atmosphere it really only served to keep him on the alert. Every minute noise was magnified so that even his footsteps sounded booming.

Wait. There. There was the distinct rustle of movement. He narrowed his eyes as he drew further into the darkness, able now to make out a slight glow from some distance ahead of him. Tram reached behind him, fingertips hovering ready over the disk on his back.

"Identify yourself, Program!" he called in an authoritative tone.

It was impossible to make out just who it was in front of him, but he wasn't taking any chances. Whoever it was, they had no business in this area of the city. Maybe he was being a bit paranoid, but that nagging feeling of something off just wouldn't leave him be and he was going to get to the bottom of it.

[NOMA]

Oh, the alleyways. Sure, it was indeed where the troublemakers hung around, did their business, but Noma prided herself on disguising her trouble making ways, able to sneak around and poke her nose where it didn't belong, even without getting caught. The program was beyond manipulative, terrifyingly cunning, and dangerously pretty. She knew how to use it to her advantage, too, and would be hard-pressed to admit to anyone she didn't know well that she did use it. However, that evening, things were slow, they were boring. Plotting just wasn't cutting it, she wanted to have some fun, and not the fun she usually went to Castor for.

The alleyways were dark--the darkness was a cover for programs like her. The darkness was a welcoming beacon, helping her to prove her point that anything done under the cover of brilliant darkness could be hidden, if you knew what you were doing. Noma wasn't particularly causing any mischief just yet that night, but she knew that any minute, someone could come around that corner and make her night a lot more interesting. All she had to do was play up the innocence factor. Gods, it was too easy.

Hearing movement, she looked up from where she'd been walking in the back of the alleyways, maneuvering herself from one to the other with ease. Pausing, she heard a voice:

"Identify yourself, Program!"

Tron? No. The voice was different. She furrowed her brows, straining to see within the darkness--ah, it was being played against her, wasn't it? Her love of the dark.

"...Noma." She stated simply, a little nervously, but it was all a ploy. Whoever this was, they were definitely some person of power. "Information Gathering Program...is..is there a problem, sir?"

[TRAM]

Tram cocked his head to the side thoughtfully, trying to make what he could from what he'd just heard. An information gathering program named Noma. She didn't sound as though she were up to anything, in fact she sounded a bit timid in his opinion. But then, sounds could be deceptive. He couldn't rely on the timbre of someone's voice alone; that had been learned the hard way. The security program blanched reflexively at the memory.

It had been one of his first patrols on The Grid when he'd encountered a stray virus. Of course, he hadn't realized it at the time. It was of a different sort than the ones he'd seen on Ben's laptop. It had been... friendly. He'd come too close to being derezzed for his trusting nature and, while Tron hadn't necessarily 'chewed him out' over the matter, he had been rather stern in his lecture. Tram had become too trusting, safely nestled within Ben's system. The Grid was a completely different frontier and he had learned quickly enough to be on his watch and never let his guard down.

Noma sounded innocent enough, but the situation required further investigation. It was true you could find information gathering programs in the oddest of places sometimes, as that seemed to be their nature, but all the same the alleyways were not where he wanted to find anyone snooping about. Deciding there needed to be something done about the darkness surrounding them, he pulled his disk from his back and held it flat upon his palms. Activating it, allowed its light to provide a small beacon of sorts, while the manner in which he was holding it offered no sign of hostility on his part. He strode forward in his typical loping fashion, squinting until he could get a better look at the program that had come into view.

"So your name is Noma. My name is Tram, I'm a security program," Tram said, offering her a smile and extending his hand, his tone friendly and conversational. "I've been patrolling the area and I must admit I'm a bit surprised to see you in this particular section of town. May I ask what kind of business brings you to the alleyways?"

There was the chance that she'd simply gotten lost. It had happened more often than he could count. Sometimes programs or users thought they'd take a shortcut through they alleyways, but the dark, winding walkways could be more labyrinthal than they first appeared. He wondered if that was the case.

[NOMA]

Noma was almost taken aback when the security program introduced himself kindly and extended his hand to her. Maybe she'd gotten so used to others being cold, making it a bit harder for her to mess with them, to lure them into a false sense of trust, but if this (what did he say his name was? Damn, selective hearing...Tram? Yeah, Tram) Tram program was going to be that friendly, Noma saw no use in complaining. Keeping up the front that kept her safe, looking a little lost and a lot nervous, she reached out and shook his hand gently, before pulling her's back and looking around.

"I...actually believe I took a wrong turn somewhere back there..." She gestured behind her to the other alleyways. What a lie that was, she knew her way through these alleyways like the back of her hand, but figured getting lost was the easiest excuse of them all, the most believeable. "I have to say...I'm rather relieved to run into someone friendly," Noma managed a smile back, the nervous air still there, but she hoped he would believe she was the one letting her guard down in the situation now--trusting him. If she trusted him and gave him no reason to see her as a threat, this would be fun. "I was a little worried who I may find back here." She said, looking behind Tram to where he'd come from.

"Do you know the way back to the street?" She asked, making a bit of a face. "The light from your disc is reasonably comforting, but the darkness is still unsettling...I mean...we can't even see slightly behind us..." She took a step forward, a bit closer to him, and glanced over her shoulder. She would play up the angle that she was a little frightened.

She should have been an actress.

[SARK]

They could now hear footsteps, that came from one of the dark alleyways. The sound was soft was first but ever so gradually they became louder and clearer as someone approached. The first thing they could see was the red circuitry that shone through the darkness and then just a moment or so later, he appeared.

The program was tall, perhaps even taller than Tron himself. He wore white armor, akin to other programs such as Gem or Castor but his seemed oddly sinister, the way it reflected in the light of the circuitry and disc of the two programs ahead of him could send chills up anyone's spine. Glowing red circuitry laced his armor and even went up to his helmet, which guarded his face with shut visor. Attached to the sides of the helmet were two long devices that resembled horns, perhaps his most striking feature.

He stopped and stood in complete silence as he observed the two programs. The girl was the target, the information gatherer program, she would be useful to the Master Control Program. The one next to her though was not on the Master Control Program's list nor was he on the list of Zero Zero. It was obvious who he was, a simple System Monitor program, Sark had encountered many like this one before and they had all met the same fate, deresolution.

Maybe the thing that Noma expected the least was for a real threat to appear. Sark had been tracking her all day and now he supposed that she had caught wind of him and had gone to this System Monitor for protection. Sark could not let anyone know of MCP and the work he did for him, the time to strike was now, even if it meant taking out the monitor.

Sark reached behind him and drew his disc. The disc's base was white like its master's own armor but the rim of the disc was void of light, it had not yet been activated as a weapon. Sark spoke to the programs in a heavily digitized voice, one of the features of his helmet to hide his own identity. "Master Control Program has chosen Program Noma to serve. Compliance is necessary. Any and all resistance will be met with immediate deresolution." Sark tightened his grip on the disc and it suddenly sprang to life. A red flowing light now inhabited the disc and it lit up the alleyway like a torch, it glowed much brighter than Tram's disc and could've easily been mistaken for a fire by any user.

Sark did not enter any sort of disc war stance like he usually did, he stood with his disc at his side and though it seemed he was not ready for battle, he was. Sark had already analyzed this battlefield and had discovered over a thousand tactics to defeat the monitor program, from whom he expected the most resistance.

[TRAM]

Tram smiled warmly when she returned his handshake. He'd always been partial to them, handshakes that was. Listening to Noma speak he decided his earlier assumption had been correct; she'd just gotten a bit lost, was all. He nodded in sympathy, really feeling quite terrible for her. She seemed afraid.

"Well, I'm just glad I found you before someone else did. I apologize if I startled you just now, but you run into some shady programs back here and I wasn't sure who I was dealing with," Tram admitted to her.

Even in saying that, he still wasn't sure they were safe. How many times had he thought he was alone, only to find some corrupted program nearly at his throat? They were crafty, that was the problem. But so long as he was diligent, so long as he was focused and true, they wouldn't get the better of him no matter how crafty they were. He blinked slowly as Noma moved closer to him, but nodded with another polite smile.

"I would be happy to escort you back to the main road," Tram informed her. "Stick close to me and I'll make sure you get back safely."

He'd just been about to turn back the way he'd come when his ears picked something else up. It was subtle at first, but it steadily grew louder. Out from the darkness, a new program approached them. His armor was white with glowing red circuitry unlike any Tram could recall having seen before. It was oddly... sinister. His eyebrows drew together in a frown as the unknown program spoke and readied an identity disk that blazed in a manner that caught him off guard.

"Master Control Program...?" Tram echoed. He recalled the stories Tron had told him, of the system he had liberated from the Master Control Program's iron grip. How could this be possible? What was going on here? Whatever it was, it wasn't good. Stepping protectively in front of Noma, he struck a defensive pose, his disk glowing a bit brighter as he held it ready for battle. "I'm not sure who you are, or what you think you're going to do with Noma, but I'm only giving you one warning. Stand down Program, or I will be forced to take decisive action against you."

He wasn't sure what this Program was up to, but he'd stop it somehow. He turned his head slightly to speak over his shoulder to Noma. "Go. I'll find you once I've dealt with him and I'll get you out of here safe. I promise."

[NOMA]

He was definitely more trusting than Tron, that was obvious. Offering him a smile in return when he offered to help her out of the alleyways, she'd readied herself to follow him, but as he heard something, so did she. Pausing, she glanced behind her, heading the footsteps that grew closer to them every moment. It did unnerve her, though she wouldn't admit it. She didn't keep track of too many other programs that hid themselves in the dark as she did, and as the one in question stepped into view, she felt dread growing in her processors.

The program in the white armor and red circuitry was one she'd never seen before. He loomed over them and she furrowed her brows to look closely at him. Who was he? What did he want? She went to open her mouth to speak first, but the newcomer beat her to the punch.

"Master Control Program has chosen Program Noma to serve. Compliance is necessary. Any and all resistance will be met with immediate deresolution."

"W-what?" Master Control Program? Noma couldn't ever remember stammering unless she was acting, but now she wasn't. This was indeed something she wasn't expecting, a real threat, someone she might actually have to deal with for her own safety. The minute the program pulled out its disc, she did the same, clutching it with a white-knuckle grip, ready to stand her ground if necessary.

"I think you're mistaken," She nearly growled. "I don't serve anyone, anymore." It slipped out without her even thinking of Tram standing there near her, and when he stepped protectively in front of her, she actually felt herself take in a small gasp of surprise. Again, something she wasn't familiar with; someone trying to help her.

Noma had absolutely no allies, no friends. She had a confidant; Castor, and he was the closest thing to a friend she'd even consider. She told him of her troubles, he helped her when she needed forged discs and a cover from the authorities, they kept each other...entertained, but Castor wasn't there right now, and if he had been, he probably wouldn't have stepped in front of her with plans of keeping her safe.

"Go. I'll find you once I've dealt with him and I'll get you out of here safe. I promise."

"Aha, no. I appreciate your sentiments, but--" She stopped herself, her disc lighting up as well. She paid attention now to what she was saying. "If I take off running into these alleyways, I'll get myself even more lost, besides, you can't say no to a helping hand, can you? I'm not completely defenseless." Noma was far from it, and she wasn't letting this strange program mess with her without a brilliant fight.

[SARK]

Sark laughed, which sounded strange with the effects of the voice changer. Noma and the System Monitor had drawn their discs; Sark was sure that Noma was going to take the opportunity to run for it, based on what he had seen of her so far. Sark had analyzed strategies for a single opponent in this battlefield, now that there were two he was set back quite a bit. "Very brave of you Monitor, but I expected no less, your programming requires it after all. I have fought the other Monitors of this Grid, like you, and none of them have survived. What makes you think you will do better?"

"As for you, Noma. I'm afraid you have no choice in the matter, you will comply, by force is necessary." Sark slammed his disc into the side of the alleyway, it stuck fast into the wall. He loosened his grip on it and suddenly, the disc began to spin in place, producing the grid-equivalent of sparks that shot off in every direction. Sark gently pushed the disc and it went along the wall in this fashion, towards the two programs. When it neared them, the disc suddenly shot across and hit the opposite wall, where it rebounded and hit the other wall. Now the disc went downwards and behind the Monitor, when it hit the ground it almost seemed to leap towards him, the lights on its rim danced lethally.

As soon as Sark had loosed his disc, he drew his baton from his side. The baton carried a similar color scheme to his armor and was used for rezzing in vehicles and weapons. He interfaced with the baton by thought alone and immediately a blade of red energy appeared on its end. Sark gave it a gentle twirl in his hand and thought about charging the programs, but he held back for some reason. He waited to see how the Monitor would deal with his disc.

[TRAM]

Tram couldn't help from going a little slack jawed at Noma's response. He would have thought she'd have readily complied with his idea, but instead there she was, standing her ground.

"But... but...!" he sputtered. This wasn't part of the plan! How was he supposed to protect her if she was knowingly putting herself in harm's way? That's not how things were supposed to work. Didn't she understand that he was there to protect her? That's what he was written for, it was everything he lived for. Unfortunately, it didn't seem like she was going anywhere. "It's not that I don't appreciate the help, but I... Well, I don't suppose you're going to leave if I ask nicely again, so at the very least, leave the heavy lifting to me."

Of all the programs he could have run into! Users Above, he swore the independent ones would be the death of them. It's not that he doubted other programs could take of themselves, it was just that he'd rather do it for them. That was why Sam had brought him to The Grid. He raised his eyebrows curiously as the mystery program addressed them again.

"I don't claim to be any different from any other monitor programs you've faced," Tram replied honestly. "But in this case, I would have to say that the one thing that separates them from myself is that where they've failed, I will not. Tron has entrusted me with the protection of this system and I won't betray that trust. Ever."

He tensed as the strange program stuck his disk in the wall, sending it spinning towards them, viciously spitting sparks all the way. His eyes tracked its movement along the wall until it jumped, whizzing across the alleyway and rebounding off the opposite wall. It bounced back and forth, just as it did along the clear walls of the Disk War field, before, quite suddenly, he found it behind him. Releasing the tension built up in his anticipation, he twisted his slim frame quickly, noting just how close his opponent's disk was to him as the sparks hissed along the portion of his suit covering his abdomen. He swung his arm upward, using his own disk to deflect the enemy disk high above them, most likely to return to its owner.

Tram crouched back into a defensive stance, his eyes remaining focused on his opponent. He wouldn't be brought down so easily--but the fact that was becoming increasingly obvious was that this enemy was on an entirely different scale from those he'd faced in the past. Tram was skilled (he was modest, but he wasn't going to lie about it), he knew that much, but so was this newcomer. But he couldn't let Tron down; he had to protect Noma at all costs.

[NOMA]

ooc: I'm just gonna throw it out there--my posts COULD get a little short. I was never too good at fight scenes, but I'm going to do my best!

Tram's reaction would have been funny if the situation weren't so serious.

"As for you, Noma. I'm afraid you have no choice in the matter, you will comply, by force is necessary."

Noma tried her best to disguise the flicker of fear in her eyes as she thought for a moment about the possible outcomes of this battle. She never claimed to be the best fighter, just quick, lithe, knew when to duck and back away--she was better on the defense rather than charging right into something, so maybe she would let Tram handle the heavy-lifting...unless he needed her--wait, no. He wouldn't need her help. If things got that bad she'd run. Part of her mind was still telling her to run, asking her why she was being so dimwitted to stay there and think she could hold her own, but Noma was prideful. She didn't want to be seen as a weak fool.

When the disc came suddenly flying at Tram, she stepped back and away from him so as not to be hit by it as he redirected it's blow. It had come dangerously close, and since she'd been standing close to him, it was a matter of her moving as quickly as possible away so he could redirect it, and it didn't injure him in any way.

"Heavy lifting, right," She breathed, staring at the disc as it bounced away from them and up into the air. "It's all yours, dear."

Fighting for yourself was easy, fighting for others? Not so much.

Making a face, Noma crouched low, trying to get a hit in before the strange newcomer's disc returned to him, and flung her disc in Sark's direction, hoping for it to bounce off the far wall behind him and make some sort of contact. She could only hope, and she was growing more nervous as the moments ticked on.

[SARK]

Sark stared right at Noma, his eyes piercing the soul (or in this case programming), he could easily see the fear in her eyes. A sick, frightening sneer formed under his helmet, she was lucky that she couldn't see it. Every fiber of Sark's being now wanted to make her fear grow, she would suffer and Sark would make sure of it. MCP only needed her functions, not her pretty face, or her arms and legs for that matter. Sark shivered in anticipation.

As for Tram, well, Sark wasn't interested. The Monitor was basically spewing the exact same stuff as his predecessors did. Sark didn't hate him, he actually found him kind of amusing. All Sark had to do to break him would be to make him fail, and Sark already knew that he would take great pleasure in that as well. Until then, Sark would simply deal with him.

He watched as Tram twisted and dodged his disc before deflecting it upwards with his own. Sark watched as his disc went high above the alleyway, he cackled in response, "Ha, ha. Oh, dear." That was when Sark suddenly caught a glimpse of light flying towards him, Noma's disc. Things were just getting better and better.

Sark ran straight for the disc and it seemed as if it was going to collide with his legs but he jumped at the last second and the disc passed underneath him. Sark forced his weight to one side and ran across the wall, it was nothing amazing, but what he was going to do next would leave real-world freerunner's speechless. Sark jumped off the wall and hit the other one, here he used all of his strength and propelled himself off the wall and high into the air. He stretched out his arm and caught his disc, which almost seemed to crawl back into his hand.

Sark twirled in mid-air and let fly his disc once more. The disc flew with spectacular speed towards the wall of the alleyway, it hit and bounced from wall to wall, it was like watching a ball go from bumper to bumper in a game of pinball. The disc never seemed to lose speed as it continuously rebounded, instead it seemed to gain speed with each bounce, until it was a blur. Each time the disc would bounce it go a little more towards the couple and eventually it was upon them, heading straight towards Noma.

Sark of course did not just float around in mid-air to watch things unfold. He placed his other hand onto the hilt of his red energy sword and raised it high above his head as he fell downwards, heading straight for Tram. When he got close enough, he would strike. Sark was having so much fun already and the battle had hardly even started, he hoped the Monitor would prove for soon interesting entertainment yet.

[TRAM]

Tram watched with some slight twinge of admiration as the enemy program maneuvered lithely through the air. Under different circumstances, he might have been a very interesting opponent to play against in Disk Wars, or perhaps even a Lightcycle Battle. But as it stood, they were enemies and this was no game. He found himself instead wondering just how the other monitor programs had fared in similar circumstances; this fellow was speaking of them as though they were insignificant bits to be trod under foot. It did help to explain some of the recent disappearances, at the very least. Tron, Sam and Clu... this was something they needed to know about as soon as possible.

This was all assuming he survived. It's not that he lacked in confidence, but the facts were the facts, and this would be a hard win. If he escaped unscathed it would be nothing short of a miracle, not to mention he had Noma's safety too look out for and that took priority over anything else. He watched as her disk was dodged, almost as though in slow motion, and things strangely seemed to come to a head. The enemy's disk was bearing down on Noma, who was without hers, and the enemy himself was bearing down on Tram.

"Not good," he muttered under his breath, reaching to his thigh for his own baton.

In a practiced, fluid motion, he hurled his disk in a line that sent it straight towards the oncoming enemy disk. If he could keep her safe, Noma would have time to retrieve her disk. At the same time, he activated his baton within his other hand. A familiar blue glow shot along its edges, creating a weapon similar to the one his enemy was now bringing down upon him. While more practiced with disk combat, he could hold his own with the weapons batons could become. He brought the sword upward, hoping to parry the blow heading his way; close combat suited him better. Usually, by dragging his opponent into close quarters, it became easier for him to disarm them because he was able to grab hold of them. In many cases, he'd been able to use his height to his advantage, being that he was quite tall, but this enemy was quite the giant himself.

'It's like I'm forced into the defensive... He hasn't given me one opportunity to retaliate at all!' Tram thought in wonderment.

[NOMA]

This new enemy was very good at what he did. For a fleeting moment Noma had hope that her disc would hit him, but of course, at the last second he jumped. She didn't take time to marvel at his skills, she really could have cared less. This was a matter of life or deresolution, and she currently had too many plans to carry out to worry about being derezzed at any point soon. The fact, however, that their new enemy could take both of them on with ease bothered her, and before she knew it, she was still weaponless and staring down the glowing red disc that was hurling toward her, having nothing to deflect it with.

She almost said Tram's name in worry, hoping he'd do something to help her out, but he did before she could speak. Good, too, because she didn't want to sound like some defenseless litle snot. Seeing him toss his disc and hopefully intercept the one coming at her gave her time to move to the side and catch her own, spin around and make sure nothing was coming at her to deflect. If Tram's disc had hit the enemy's, then there was nothing to worry about--except the program was hurling down toward Tram with baton in hand.

The way Noma saw it, she had two choices.

One: Get the hell out and worry about this security program later, if he survived. Or,

Two: Stand and fight and possibly help him win against this armor clad villian.

It was possibly the most difficult choice she'd ever faced. Noma wanted to run. Every fiber of her being put together was telling her to run, supposedly like the coward she was, but for some reason, she wasn't running, and she was hurling her disc again at the enemy, tossing it straight up into the air toward him, hoping to at least scrape him or momentarily catch him off guard.

She held her breath...she wasn't very good of a fighter. She decided if this didn't work, she would run.

[SARK]

So Sark's initial attack had been thwarted, his disc was deflected and sent to some far away corner; the enemies own disc was flying towards him. Things were looking quite grim for Sark, or so it seemed. In reality, Sark was now seeing the final moves necessary to take out Tram, the system monitor. However he wasn't quite sure of his strengths and he wasn't sure of what Noma would do in that situation, but she did seem to grow even more desperate with each passing moment. Sark could sense her anxiety.

Sark's disc was bouncing from wall to wall in a deeper part of the alley; Tram's disc could not be seen. Noma's disc was quickly closing distance and would most definitely collide. Sark figured he wouldn't need a disc to deflect a disc; he twisted his sword into place and the disc bounced off of it. Sark raised his sword once more, about to bring it down on Tram, who conjured his own blade to match him.

The two blades of energy violently clashed, sending short sparks of blue, red, and purple energy flying outwards and colliding with surrounding objects and walls. Now Sark's feet touched the ground and he maneuvered his sword a bit before attempting to force Tram's blade into the wall, where he would hold it in place. It would be easy due to Sark's likely superior strength. Sark thought "likely" because he wasn't too sure of this monitor's strengths, he seemed different than the other system monitors.

It didn't quite matter wether if Sark was able to the get Tram's sword into the wall or not. He now released one hand from the handle and reached behind him; Sark's disc stopped in mid-air and suddenly changed course, heading back to its master. This was all part of Sark's tactic. Both of Tram's hand were likely occupied from this latest attack, Sark would grab his disc when it got close and he would strike Tram with it when he did (who would have little hope to retaliate). The whole time the program kept an eye of Noma, ready to jump back if needed. He decided after this he'd play a bit more on the defensive side, draw them in and let them make a mistake.

[TRAM]

Tram braced himself for the inevitable clash as Sark dropped from the sky like a lead balloon. The Security Program grit his teeth at the moment of impact, feeling the force of the strike ripple down through his blade, to his fingers, hands, arms... reverberating down to the soles of his boots. The sheer force of the strike was unreal, like nothing he'd ever experienced before. He'd fought his fair share of Viruses and Corrupted Programs, but as tough as some of them had been, none of them could hold a candle to the threat that confronted him in the dim, narrow space of the alleyway.

'Just hold it together. He's tough, but tough doesn't mean unbeatable,' Tram thought to himself, even as his arms trembled under the stress of the attempt to parry Sark's strike.

Yet, even as he thought that, there was a sudden and unexpected increase in the force behind Sark's thrust and with a startled noise, Tram found his blade buried in the wall. And Sark had done it all one handed. he had done it one handed, Tram noticed, because he needed his other hand to retrieve his disk, which was rapidly returning to its owners hand. In this predicament, Tram found himself at something of a loss; never before had an opponent been able to disarm him so thoroughly.

Well, it wasn't as though he had many options left. Setting his jaw in a determined manner, he did the only thing he could think to do. Dropping both hands from his blade, he sprang at Sark in an imitation of a rugby tackle.


OOC: Lawl. Desperate times call for desperate measures? Just slowly moving this along while we think of how we all want it to end. XD