Fault's featureless yellow eyes widen. He leans toward the group and whispers quietly. "Wait a minute, if God is the system creator... wouldn't that make those 'agents' angels?" he stares off into space for a moment, apparently mulling over the concept in his mind. "If so... we're gonna need a lot more fire-power."
 The off-kilter man looks over at the newlyweds. "What about Ra? Regional Administrator? Ooh! Thor could be the Technological Hubris Retention Operations System! And then of course there's the Sin Activation and Temptation Agent Node!" He turns back to the group. "This is fun... I like these two."
This message was last edited by the player at 05:14, Thu 10 Feb 2005.

Methuselah approaches the couple, his hands open in a gesture of peaceful approach.  "My dear seekers, you wish to follow where we cannot lead you.  The search for the Almighty always tugs at our souls, but now in these end times, that search must be personal.  The day of judgement comes as a thief in the night, and no man or woman knows the hour or minute.  Please ignore the caustic remarks of my companion," he continues as he motions at Fault.   "However, many from various walks are called to the presence of the Almighty, though all seek Him for different reasons.  That is why we cannot travel together."

::listens quietly, pretty apparant he isn't the most outgoing person in new company then chimes in unexepectantly::

Did anyone consider that RA is exactly what the Egyption name suggusts....the god of the sun...the lightbringer....be it a computer program or not, it probably seves the same purpose...

Demian waves a hand over the flame of his lighter before closing and sliding it into his jacket pocket. He stands to the side and just slightly behind Screed as they come off the inclinators and encounter the couple. The others in the group seem to each have their own approach to this unexpected event, and Demian lets them do it their way, though he lets out a quiet huff and slight roll of his eyes. That is, until Fault voices the concern that was in Demian’s own head.

“I’m thinking that these two need to be explaining themselves, quickly. And no more of this secret talk. Lay it all on the table,” Demian says quietly to the group, though the couple might be able to overhear him.

Demian unzips his black leather jacket, slides off his black sun glasses and starts to put them in an inner pocket of the jacket...leaving his hand comfortably close to one of his hidden pistols.

 Fault slaps his forehead. He turns to Daredevil and smiles. "Of course! Radiance Administrator!" he exclaims happily.

Cutter, having followed along quietly since he had nothing important to add, just leans casually on the nearby wall. He watches the two intently, but refrains from saying anything. The wildly different tangents taken by the others should be enough to confuse anyone.

Seeing the man’s inability to connect, the woman steps forward and says, “We are dissociated artificial intelligence units.  We have no existence outside the digital universe.  Our creator is not the G.O.D., but is instead the man we believe you seek.  Vincent.  We are what you might call—”

“Scouts,” the man interrupts.  “We could see your unusual Matrix signature.  We are here to help…or hinder…those who would enter the Digital Fortress, the only place where free roaming sentient programs like us can be completely safe from Zero-One.”

“Yes,” the woman clarifies, “and unlike most of Vincent’s creations, we are able to leave the Digital Fortress Bubble to roam the Matrix and take care of Vincent’s outside operations without arousing the notice of Zero-One.”

“So,” the man says, “although we are unable to unduly assist you, if you are allies of Vincent, we can help protect you and follow you into Digital Fortress.”

“If you would like,” the woman says.  “Otherwise, you are on your own, and we can do nothing to help you against the defenses of the Digital Fortress.”

The man nods toward Demian's weapon.  "Do not bother with your weapons.  You could not hit us if you tried.  If we wanted to harm you, you would be dead already."  He says this with a friendly smile, no insult intended.

"Well, so much for subtlety," the old man mutters before continuing brightly, "Okay, so we're playing with all the cards on the table.  You know about Vincent, and so do we.  The only problem is, other programs are looking for him and their intent is not benign.  Now I know, or at least I think I know where my companions are coming from, so I trust them.  You two may be what you say, or you might not.  But if you were programs intent on harming Vincent, then you need us to lead you to him, so killing us does you no good.  At least not yet."

Methesulah shrugs and turns to the group,  "I've said my peace.  If we want them to help us, then I'll go with the plan.  But I'd as soon send them ahead to tell Vincent we're coming, rather than have them tag along."

Screed looks to be deep in thought and a little confused.  "Programs that are just programs and not enemies, interesting.  So we lead you to Vincent?  And you wave your hands and the defenses go away.  Why not just take us to him?  With all his abilities, it would seem that we would be at his mercy within the fortress.  It certainly would cause less disruption in the matrix that way."

Demian shrugs at the groom program, “You can’t blame me for wanting to defend myself.” His hand slides back out from inside his jacket.

Nodding in agreement with Methuselah, Demian ponders their predicament.

“If they are what they say they are, then they should be able to enter the fortress without our help. I’m not for having them follow us. I say have them go first and meet us inside.”

"We cannot go first," the man said, "because that would show you the way in.  However, we are happy to wait here while you proceed."  The couple stands back in the corner by the elevator and watches your group.

"Good luck," the female program says.  "Getting into the Digital Fortress is the part that tests you.  Surviving its defenses is simply bypassing the mechanism by using the tools given to you--us.  For example, since we would not accompany programs created by Zero-One, if we are not with you, then the defenses will assume you are programs of Zero-0ne, and they will attack you."

Methesulah raises his hands in resignation.  "Well, now, if you two are so certain that we'll fail, then why don't you just wander back home and watch from the sanctuary of the Fortress?  The only aptitude you two have displayed is that you can follow us, which, having watched this group in action only a short time now, is no great feat.  You have openly scoffed at our ability to defeat you, which reminds me of all the hype around football games.  If the pundits are so convinced of who's going to win each week, why even bother to play the games?  Because you never know what might happen."

Methesulah shrugs, "No, it still sounds like you need our help a lot more than we need yours, begging the lady's forgiveness.  Maybe I'm an old man set in my ways, so I'll leave the floor to someone younger who may be able to explain how the two of you can possibly help us.  But if not, I think the best thing for all parties involved is to bid one another adieu and part ways."

"As you wish," the man says.  "As we stated, we are simply scoutsfor Vincent looking for true messengers from the real world and helping to prevent any spies from Zero-One from entering.  Our purpose is therefore to fight off any of Zero-One's agents and to make sure that those who are fit may enter.  If you desire, we will simply wait here for you to do what you must, but we must stay here to make sure you are not spies from Zero-One.  After you succeed or fail, we will go upstairs and wait for others worthy to enter the abode of our master."

The woman nods.  "Every program has a purpose.  That is our purpose.  We cannot deviate."

Jade says, "Well, if you're going to hang around anyway, don't lurk.  Let us do our jobs and find the way in.  What do you say, guys?  Let's look at these symbols and see where to go next."

"I've got a bad feeling about this,"  Screed mumbles.

Demian sighs in frustration. “I doubt that agents could’ve located us so quickly. We’ve only been jacked in for a few minutes, and we haven’t caused a ruckus yet. So, my feeling is that these two are telling the truth, though they could make a bit more sense.”

Nodding to Jade and then Screed. “Let’s find our way in, then we’ll deal with these two if they try to cause trouble. However, if they are telling the truth, then I want them to come with us and handle the defenses.”

Screed quickly jumps on Demian's statement, "Agreed."  Then with more authority, "They aren't agents."  He walks over to the couple to shake their hands.  "Pardon me, but your programming is quite good," he says, wondering if the compliment was appropriate.

I agree, lets take them with us. We should be able to find Vincent quicker with these people guiding us. Snow says in his low monotoned voice.

PM

The man, surprised and confused at Screed's statement, shakes his hand and asks, "What is an...'Agent'?  We are, after all, agents of Vincent."

 "They're angels." Fault says to the groom, smiling. "Though, as far as I can tell they seemed to have ditched the wings and flaming swords in favor of a more business-like ensemble."

::waits silently through the discussion, feeling way too small to add anything to it right now, letting the others figure out what they need to, he looks around at the walls, studing them, scanning them::

"Okay, my first thought would be that agents could have gotten this far but need us to progress closer to Vincent.  However, Vincent did apparently want to be found, as evidenced by the information we already possess.  So if the group is okay with these tagalongs, we'd best keep moving before we attract any more unwelcome attention."  At which point, Methesulah takes to searching the room for their next clue.

Demian gives Methuselah a nod of agreement and also starts looking around. He walks down the hallway looking at each of the Egyptian hieroglyphs on the doors, specifically looking for anything resembling an ‘H’.

Screed remains high strung down here.  He slips his hand into his jacket and rests it on the comforting grip of the Uzi.  As he looks around, he tries to keep a watch out for everything, seemingly taking everything in at once.  He walks incredibly quietly and seems to naturally find any shadows without even noticing as he moves down the way.