For I don't know how many cycles now, I've been walkin' the streets of the frags. Always seems like it's night; always seems like it's rainin'. A program can't operate like that without gettin' a little rough around the edges. Seems like I never did nothin' but track down bugged code tryin' to hide out from Master Control, maybe a small trojan here or there.
I guess I got a little rough at times, maybe a few unnecessary deletions here or there. At least, that's what Control said when it retired me for some new diags.
Then there was l.exe. God, I loved that dame. She'd tag along to the frags with me sometimes; think she liked the danger, the bad programs runnin' around. 'Course, now that I'm a nobody, she's taken up with one of those new diags. Can't blame her. She likes her men tough, and I'm old, broke down.
Now I hear about this Core Wars. Can't say I care too much about who wins or loses, but it might be a good way to show Control I ain't so useless, so outdated. Control, and l.exe.
Origin:
Spoiler:
One of the guys over at the software engineering team musta had a sense of humor and a thing for old movies, making a diag act like a Humphrey Bogart detective in some old black-and-white. Seein' as too much personality's what made me self-aware, guess I should thank him. Me, I just wish he'd coded me prettier.
Iconography:
Spoiler:
Yeah, take a good look. I got the stubble you could light a match on, goin' a bit grey these cycles. Matching duster and fedora. I ain't too big, am I? Go ahead, think I'm too old and slow to catch ya. Why should you be scared of me? Could be because I got a Colt in a shoulder rig and you've spent so much time sizing me up that it's in my hand now and pointed right at ya. Now come along nicely. Make a fuss and I'll plug ya.
