paradisa | second glitch

[anyone listening to the journal today might pick up a very steady, consistent sound, almost like a metronome:

flip.
flip.
flip.
flip.

at odd intervals, there'll be a soft thud, a scrape, and then the flipping continues. anyone who ventures onto the second floor of the library will find the source of the sound: CLU seated at a table, behind a MASSIVE pile of books. there's a tall glass of some sort of glowing, blue liquid off to one side, but other than that, it's just him and the books.

to the uninitiated, it'll look like he's not even reading. he just turns a page, blinks, and repeats the process ad nauseam. but he's definitely reading, scanning each page and its contents quickly before moving on. occasionally, if a spread is dense with text, or a concept it details is completely foreign to him, he'll pause a moment before turning the page. but for the most part, he just. keeps. going. after he finishes one book in particular, he stops, and scowls down at the journal]

[he's careful to keep his tone light, though, because That Is How You Make Friends And Influence People.] These are the most inefficient systems. I don't see how any of you can cope. Don't you get impatient?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Just one more reason this place needs a lot of work.

[if there's one thing CLU is, it's honest ... if there's another thing he is, it's careful with what information he gives out.]

What're you?

I'm Del. What're you~

See, that's your name, sweetheart, that's not what you are.

I'm an administrative program, but my name is CLU. See what I did, there? Now you.

I am a Del.

[Here the scathing tone, know it's because she thinks your computeryness is an idiot.]

[what the hell is a Del. no, really. brb. referencing the journal, seeing if he can match that handwriting. it doesn't take long.

wow. every other word out of her is nonsense. she must be corrupted. or whatever Users call it]

Okay, sure, fair enough, but what's that? I'm new here. Still learning the ropes.

[This was taking ages, but her wandering ways didn't seem to be bringing her any closer to him, so she just let out a huff and slumped down to the floor with a plop wherever she happened to be standing at the moment.]

Delirium. The people, they glowed~

[and with that word, he makes the connect. delirium. it's a concept, a state - not a thing. maybe that's her directive. to not make sense.]

What people? You --

[but that. that makes sense. and at the same time, it doesn't. how would she know? if that IS what she's talking about]

In the Grid?

Forgot it already?

[he sounds equal parts confused and incredulous]

Nnnnooo...

You ask very silly questions.

You give sillier answers. [great, now you're bringing out the five-year-old in him, nice job, Del. NO U]

It's not my fault you can't hear properly.

[lksadjfhailesufWHAT. there's the clatterflutter of a book being knocked to the floor. SO ABUSIVE, CLU]

You're the one not making any sense!

[Your face doesn't make sense.]

I make sense I make lots of sense I have all kinds of senses.

[YOUR MOM DOESN'T MAKE SENSE]

That's not what I mean, and you know it.

[A sputter, and the sound of her knocking on things.]

I know the books won't tell you the right thing when you don't know what thing you're looking for.

Ohyeah? [scuffle. someone may just be picking the book back up and putting it where it was. perfectionism, it is a bitch]

What makes you so sure about that?