Yori is lying in bed, recovering from Flynn's latest visit (i.e. eight straight hours of designing and building new structures for the Grid) when the sound starts.
As a simulations program Yori is familiar with everything from the hum of recognizers and lightcycles to the glass-like clink that code makes as it solidifies into structures, but the drumming on the roof is foreign to her. Static is the closest thing she can compare it to, but that's still inaccurate. Her interest builds until it outweighs her fatigue, and she pushes herself to her feet.
Tron is in the next room, frowning as he looks out the window. Yori follows his gaze and sees hundreds of pixels streaking down from the sky, catching the light of the distant city before pooling on the ground like a miniature version of the sea. She leans against Tron, mesmerized.
"What is that?"
"I'm not sure," he says. "My scans say it isn't a threat, but- Yori!"
She's out the door almost faster than his systems can register, standing out in the [unknown] with a wide smile. Tron runs after her, stopping in the doorway. The droplets seem to be falling faster now; the sound is much louder out here. Panic surges through his systems like energy.
"Come back inside! We don't know what that is- we don't know if it's safe!"
Yori tips an open palm toward the sky, letting some of the substance collect in her hand.
"It doesn't feel like it's hurting anything."
Alan-One help him, she's becoming more like Kevin Flynn with every passing cycle. He really is a terrible influence. Here Tron is terrified she's going to derez, while she's distracted by color light sound how does it work?
She laughs, as if she can hear his thoughts.
"You worry too much."
Tron starts to tell her that constantly searching for threats means worrying, but she pulls him into the downpour before he can speak.
He blinks down at her, stunned. Her smile is far too amused.
Scans indicate that none of his systems are taking damage; nothing hurts. Perhaps the threat level is negligible as Yori said. She doesn't appear to be damaged either (which means she has no excuse for what she just did), but Tron notes with interest that her render is changing.
Yori's usually golden hair is turning dark, its waves and curls replaced with clumpy sort of lines. Somehow one such piece of hair appears to be stuck to her face, and when Tron pushes it away he finds that even its texture and density are different. Yori leans into his touch, and his investigation stops there.
The rain (he isn't sure where the word comes from, but it seems right) isn't hurting anything, but it does create a chill. Yori is shivering; it's only logical that he wraps an arm around her- pulls her closer. She trails her hands up the light-lines on his arms until they rest just below his shoulders, soaking up warmth. Her eyes reflect the glow of her circuits, just like the raindrops that streak down her face.
"Are you trying to derez me?" Tron asks. He means to sound chiding, but he smiles at her closeness and the effect is lost.
"Never."
Yori sacrifices a bit of warmth to cup his face, and her systems flood with affection when Tron kisses her palm. She stands on her toes for a proper kiss and he complies, strong arms wrapping around her waist. Yori hums. This is always nice, but everything is heightened by the rain; the soft whitenoise, the need for warmth, and the raindrops on their circuits.
Light streaks across the sky and Yori squeaks, burying her face in Tron's chest as the Grid shakes with another sound she doesn't recognize. He smooths a hand across her back, pinging [safe/calm], but he can't help the amusement he feels.
"Now can we go inside?"