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?

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[...Wait. She recognises that voice. It's one she hasn't heard for a long, long time. But she still remembers it]

...Clu?

[he lets his voice lilt into that tone he reserves for the rarer, more pleasant surprises] Oh, someone else who knows me. I'm sorry, I don't remember you. But if you'd be kind enough to enlighten me, we can work on that, yeah?

...Yep. That's you alright.

I'm Maladict. As you've already gathered, I knew you from before.

[He's been waiting for something like this. CLU's had some time to get his bearings, so he's undoubtedly now trying to get an advantage of some sort. It happened last time and it's happening again now.]

It's impossible for anything to be 100% efficient. And I know you know we use more than books.

[He pauses before changing the subject. Best not to beat around the bush.]

I know what you did to him.

Maladict. [he says the name thoughfully, running it through his memory. nope, still nothing. this is one hell of a memory glitch.] Arright. How'd you know me? The more I can fill in this gap in my memory, the easier figuring this place out is gonna be.

[he's read the whole journal. of course he knows you use more than books. he knows about the flood, the strange creatures that live in balls, the odd change of the seasons, the "losses", the way people come and go. he knows how flawed it all is, how broken. how little you Users have all done to even try to change that. and it makes him sick. how can you not see how diseased this place is? how splintered and fragmented and IMPERFECT?

as for that accusation? he has no idea which "he" Alan-1 means, so he'll just play it cool]

Mmyeah?

[Alan would agree with that appraisal of imperfect, but probably not with any of CLU's potential attempts to change it.

He hates that CLU sounds like Flynn. Alan had been answered that way many times throughout the years he'd worked with Kevin, and that backhand response? To something as important as Tron? Just frustrates him.]

Why?

[it's not even snark, or intended malice, when he responds. even if he STILL isn't clear who Alan means. it'd be the same answer, no matter who they're talking about, because CLU doesn't do things for any other reason:]

Needed to be done, man.

Not when there was patience in the world.

Patience isn't the point. This is the biggest mess I've ever seen.

You don't have ink on your hands.

[How would she possible know that, speaking through a book? One must wonder.]

That's because I'm careful.

[she'd know because he wouldn't leave fingerprints. program logic.]

You didn't have a time where ink mattered.

[Come now, come now. Be honest, her echoy laughter commands it.]

[This time his tone has a little more venom.] He was perfect the way he was, before you destroyed his code.

Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh. [so that's what's got his shorts in a twist.]

Clearly not. My directive was to create the perfect system. If he needed changing, it's not my fault his code had flaws. I'm sorry, I know no User likes to think they've made a mistake, let alone see someone who knows what they're doing correct it.

Makes you feel just that little bit less like some great big God, doesn't it? A little less the Savior.

[Seeing as how he's not there, Hank has NO idea what he's talking about, page flipping be damned.]

These 'systems' being...?

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.

[oh, hey, it's you. he's still not entirely sure what to make of you, but he'll be pleasant until he decides if he should be otherwise]

This place. Paradisa. Call it whatever you want, man, it's still a system, code or no code. It's got its laws of functionality just like anythin' else.

I am a Del.

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

Unfortunately, I think it's 'laws' were concocted by a child. You've yet to see how truly bizarre this place can get.

The only flaw he had was that he was loyal to Flynn and the ISOs instead of to you.

I wasn't his God - I was his friend. Don't project your thoughts onto me.

[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.

Not firsthand, no, but I've read enough to get an idea. [and he'll just toss in some charisma for good measure] Never did thank you for giving me all that info, the other day.

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second glitch

Dictated forever

/woot

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Alan-1

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/flails happily

:D /waaaaaaaves

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Alan-1

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