First Tron OC. Here goes nothing.

[copy_pasta]

Mundane,

Hey there. Gotta say I'm really glad you decided to give me a chance. I know you're nervous about the whole thing, fitting in, and I know for a fact that that irritable User isn't helping, but I think you'll be just-

the quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog

-fine. Sorry about that. It just kind of happens. What did I even say?

Never mind, not important. Anyway, you're going to be just fine. I believe in you, for what it's worth! You can-

1/4 cup chopped onion

-do it!

Comments

[similetap]

[And now there is a tall, dark program looming over you from behind. His voice is very low, and mostly monotone, save a small hint of amusement, perhaps.]

Yes, this whole process is a little intimidating, isn't it?

[copy_pasta]

[The other program turns around, blinking up at the dark figure in confusion. Okay. This doesn't look good.]

...Uh...yes, for her, not so much for me. I mean, I can-

comet cupid donner blitzen

-Handle myself fine....

[similetap]

[Oh, he's just a virus. He won't hurt you, promise.]

I cower in fear of the clipboard.

[copy_pasta]

Hey. I wasn't saying you should fear me - no one should fear me, I'm a nice guy. I'm just saying it's not me who is in-

He describes the properties as: Sie besteht darin, daß selbst die geringste Spur, die zufallig auf irgend eine Stelle der Haut kommt,

-timidated. It's my mun.

[similetap]

Noted.

Well, perhaps she should be doing her share of research into the data.

[copy_pasta]

She's trying to. She's getting it, slowly but surely. Kind of funny that-

Chlorotrifluoromethane, R-13, CFC-13, or Freon 13, is a non-flammable, non-corrosive chlorofluorocarbon (CFC) and also a mixed halomethane.

-She would start working with me on a night where she says she doesn't feel well. Users are kind of weird.

[similetap]

They have their eccentricities.

[copy_pasta]

That's one word for it, I guess.

[Now he's just staring up at you, looking...pretty uncomfortable.]

[similetap]

[Rightly so, because Etap just leans in over Copy, observing the program perhaps a little too closely.]

And what other words would you have for it?

[copy_pasta]

[To which Copy leans back a little, pitching backwards just a bit. Precarious. He's silent for a second, stuck for words, until-]

Whose Line is it Anyway? (often known as simply Whose Line?, and sometimes WLIIA) is an improvisational comedy show hosted by Drew Carey on ABC that ran from August 5, 1998 to September 4, 2004. It subsequently ran on ABC Family from 2005 to 2011—mostly repeats, but included some previously unaired episodes from 2005 to 2007. The series is a spin-off of the British show of the same name. The three primary performers, Ryan Stiles, Wayne Brady and Colin Mochrie, who were also on the original UK show, are joined by a recurring cast member or a special guest as the fourth performer.[1] Despite being out of production since 2007, the series has achieved a cult following among internet viewers.

[He then just blinks, having no idea what he just said.]

[similetap]

[He stares at Copy a moment, expressionless a moment, before there is a small tug at the corner of his mouth.]

You are such a popular program, clipboard.

[copy_pasta]

...

Thanks?

[Well, how ELSE does he respond to that? He ventures a smile back, however uneasy.]

Really, I have no idea what I just said, so....

[similetap]

Neither do I, but you seem to be accessed with quite a lot of frequency.

I have to wonder what would happen to the users if something happened to you.

[That's not creepy at all.]

[copy_pasta]

[=/]

...I have no idea. I never figured-

http://i1.kym-cdn.com/photos/images/original/000/070/111/halolz-dot-com-nope.avi.gif

-that I was that important.

[similetap]

[Etap takes a moment to load whatever url the program just spouted off. He doesn't get the joke, but it seems amusing anyway, getting a short chuckle from him.]

It is hard for a program to see their own importance in the lives of users when the access is one-sided.

[copy_pasta]

[Copy is just oblivious.]

...I guess that's true. Feels kind of good, knowing I'm needed. I know I can be-

trust me, trust me, darling dear

-hard to talk to sometimes.

[similetap]

Well, if we corrupted your data a little, it would restrict user access and clear up that little speech problem you are having.

[Smiiiiiile.]

[copy_pasta]

..........

Uh.....thanks, but no thanks. I mean...if they need me, they need me. Eheh.

[similetap]

Suit yourself.

There's nothing in my code that says I have to corrupt you. I'm given enough free will to pick and choose, so you can be at ease.

[copy_pasta]

...Don't I-

But soft - what light through yonder window breaks?

-Seem at ease? Heheh...eh...heh....

[No, Copy, you don't.]

[similetap]

Oh, of course. What am I saying?

[Etap is not dangerously invasive of your privacy, no sir.]

You exude peace and confident ease.

[copy_pasta]

.....

I get the feeling you're being facetious.

[He crosses his arms, lifting a brow.]

[similetap]

That is a big word, clipboard. Did you retain that from your processing?

[He is a wordsmith and a pro at insults. Clearly.]

[copy_pasta]

...No, I just happen to know the word.

[Okay, now you're pissing him off a little. His eyes narrow.]

What, do you think I'm stupid?

[similetap]

I said no such thing, but it is standard code for a program that receives more frequent use to have much more basic programming.

[Come at him program. See what happens.]

[copy_pasta]

Now hang on a second, just be-

THEYRE TAKING THE HOBBITS TO ISENGARD

-cause I'm a frequently used program doesn't mean that I-

http://i.imgur.com/C6MMo.gif

-am BASIC.

[similetap]

BASIC is not a derogatory word, clipboard. It's the distinction between what kind you are and what kind I am.

[He might have internalized some laughter at Copy.]

[copy_pasta]

...Okay. Okay. Y'know what, I'm not going-

tiddlywiki monkeypants

-To get angry. Not worth it.

[similetap]

On the contrary. It might be exciting.

[copy_pasta]

Exciting?

Why would it be exciting?

[similetap]

Conflict stirs up a great deal many things, breaks the mundane machine that follows routine order and programming.

[copy_pasta]

...

Well, yeah, that's why it's called conflict.

Soak the wig in fabric softener solution for about eight minutes.

[similetap]

And that's why it's exciting.

[copy_pasta]

...You're really weird.

[Copy has no idea what to make of this guy.]

[similetap]

I'm evolved.

[Many programs don't know what to make of this guy.]

[copy_pasta]

Okay, well...good for you, then?

[His eyes narrow again, this time in scrutiny.]

I mean...I guess that's one word for a virus. Evolved.

[backup_operator]

Hey, I'm pretty new here too, being a Tron OC. Backing up is more my job. I think you'll fit in fine. Need any help? I'm always ready to help.

[copy_pasta]

Oh, hey there! I'm okay, but-

Hobbies include snowmobiling, motorcycle riding, skiing and you guessed it.........weather!

-thank you very much for the offer.

[backup_operator]

You're welcome. My name is Boris. It stands for Backup Operator Registered Intergrated System. Bit of a mouth full but my mun found a good acronym.

[painteddoll]

[The Painted Doll tilts her head. Here we have something that looks like it ought to belong to her...but does not quite. He even sounds - no, that seemed to be an accident. Hm. She points at him, this...well, strange copy of her precious toy. Her eyes are narrowed, brow furrowed. Yet her head is still cocked, as if to ask what are you?]

OSIHVNOAI HI THERE I PLAY TAMARA OVER ON LJ

[copy_pasta]

[And Copy just stares back, smiling amiably, albeit confused. He approaches, circuits glowing softly.]

...Can I help you with something?

((aaaah, I thought my friend - who plays John - and I were the only journal-based TDC rpers! Hi!))

[painteddoll]

[Doll taps a nearly porcelain finger to perfectly painted lips, in thought. A boy like this could get into a lot of trouble with that kind of question. Provided, of course...he was real. Someone could be playing a terrible, dull trick. A trick that could him a swift kick and a long respite in the Tamer's cages.

From the belt of her ragged tutu - although it wasn't tucked there, a moment ago - she pulls out a brochure and holds it out. On the cover of the literature is a sideshow poster for another boy he might recognize: The Scorpion. The Painted Doll taps the picture and points, again, this time not letting the gesture linger. Even going so far as to bop this little...copy on the nose.]