[Rinzler had spent considerable time cloistered in his room--after ascertaining he could still prop the door open--figuring out exactly how his new wings worked and monitoring traffic on the network as the Barge's population responded to the indignities of the latest flood. None of it (save one) required his particular attention or energies so he hadn't bothered joining the awkward replies and cries for help cluttering the network, content instead to practice flying and brood over his next actions.
And then CLU had spoken up and it was, abruptly, time to go.
So here's a great red and brown hawk swooping into the level four common room, alighting on the back of a chair and ruffling all of his feathers before slicking them down again. That fox has to be around here somewhere...]
[After completing another circuit round the room, CLU pads around a couch and comes across Rinzler. He immediately stops in his tracks, both ears attentively pricked towards the hawk that's invaded his 'territory', tail tip twitching back and forth with some aggression. Foxes are generally wary by nature, and it's been a maddening battle so far to shove its instincts from his thoughts and act relatively normal.
He hasn't eaten yet, either, and the urge to go off and scavenge for some small rodent or bird is nearly intolerable.
[The hawk is most assuredly a hawk, but that's Rinzler's voice. And it's somehow the Security Program's bow when the bird stretches out one wing and ducks his head politely to the fox.]
The fox's body language shifts, his posture relaxes. Of all the Barge residents, this is definitely the one that he'd wanted to come across most.
CLU casually strolls over to a chair nearest to the hawk, then hops onto it so the two are closer to eye-level. He takes a moment to investigate the bird--with all its feathery differences to his own form--then sits back on his haunches.]
The flood turned you too. [His try at a faint smirk looks more like the fox is baring his sharp little teeth than anything else.] And not in the same way.
Yes. [Rinzler rouses his feathers, then slicks them back down, fixing his attention completely on CLU.] User fauna. They keep some.
[He pauses then, both with the difficulty of producing words at all, even in this different form, and the mind-boggling nature of the fact he's about to relate.] But. Millions of classes of fauna share User world.
[Seriously. It wasn't just ... whatever passed for Gridbugs and Bits and the Users out there. There were more insects by weight than there were Users.]
Millions. [There's a short silence as CLU absorbs what Rinzler has said, white-tipped tail swishing slightly. Gridbugs were perhaps the closest analog to User fauna that programs had on the Grid, but even then it was an inadequate comparison.
There were no creatures like this with fur or feathers or claws or talons on the Grid, and certainly not millions of different types.]
The User world is not one for simplicity, is it. [Or consistency, or orderliness. Not from what he's seen so far from the Barge and its User inhabitants, or even from how Flynn had behaved back in the Grid.]
...oops. rinzler broke. UH. SORRY. I APOLOGIZE FOR ALL OF THIS.ifightforAugust 1 2011, 06:10:02 UTC
["The User world is not one for simplicity, is it."
He can't help it.
He can't, CLU. He's been here too long, and now he's a bird. With feathers. Last time he was a cat and all he wanted to do was curl up in his User's Warden's lap and sleep. Now all he wants to do is kill everything smaller than him until he stops feeling like that's all he can do.
Rinzler starts making this noise that's somewhere between his usual growl and somewhere between the high, piping flight call of the hawk he's become, and he keeps making it. It goes on.
[At first, the sudden noise the hawk makes immediately causes the fox's hackles to raise and an instinctive, low growl to rumble from his throat.
Then, once that unintended reaction has been forcibly shut away, the odd squawking fit that Rinzler has gone into gets a calm-but-dirty look from the black fox. The remark had been made rather dryly, of course, but this isn't entirely appropriate to him.
And so CLU waits for him to finish with it, his expression somewhat hard to discern behind the fox's generally inexpressive face.]
[And CLU stares solidly back at the hawk, clearly not amused by the outburst.
It could be that he'd underestimated how thoroughly Flynn's override had affected Rinzler's behavior. Or this place--in addition to this absurd, aggravating flood that couldn't be over soon enough--had done more to the security program than CLU had yet realized.
And then CLU had spoken up and it was, abruptly, time to go.
So here's a great red and brown hawk swooping into the level four common room, alighting on the back of a chair and ruffling all of his feathers before slicking them down again. That fox has to be around here somewhere...]
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He hasn't eaten yet, either, and the urge to go off and scavenge for some small rodent or bird is nearly intolerable.
One ear flicks back.]
Who are you.
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[The hawk is most assuredly a hawk, but that's Rinzler's voice. And it's somehow the Security Program's bow when the bird stretches out one wing and ducks his head politely to the fox.]
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The fox's body language shifts, his posture relaxes. Of all the Barge residents, this is definitely the one that he'd wanted to come across most.
CLU casually strolls over to a chair nearest to the hawk, then hops onto it so the two are closer to eye-level. He takes a moment to investigate the bird--with all its feathery differences to his own form--then sits back on his haunches.]
The flood turned you too. [His try at a faint smirk looks more like the fox is baring his sharp little teeth than anything else.] And not in the same way.
Reply
[He pauses then, both with the difficulty of producing words at all, even in this different form, and the mind-boggling nature of the fact he's about to relate.] But. Millions of classes of fauna share User world.
[Seriously. It wasn't just ... whatever passed for Gridbugs and Bits and the Users out there. There were more insects by weight than there were Users.]
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There were no creatures like this with fur or feathers or claws or talons on the Grid, and certainly not millions of different types.]
The User world is not one for simplicity, is it. [Or consistency, or orderliness. Not from what he's seen so far from the Barge and its User inhabitants, or even from how Flynn had behaved back in the Grid.]
Reply
He can't help it.
He can't, CLU. He's been here too long, and now he's a bird. With feathers. Last time he was a cat and all he wanted to do was curl up in his User's Warden's lap and sleep. Now all he wants to do is kill everything smaller than him until he stops feeling like that's all he can do.
Rinzler starts making this noise that's somewhere between his usual growl and somewhere between the high, piping flight call of the hawk he's become, and he keeps making it. It goes on.
And on.
He's laughing. He can't help it.
Users help him, he can't help it.]
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Then, once that unintended reaction has been forcibly shut away, the odd squawking fit that Rinzler has gone into gets a calm-but-dirty look from the black fox. The remark had been made rather dryly, of course, but this isn't entirely appropriate to him.
And so CLU waits for him to finish with it, his expression somewhat hard to discern behind the fox's generally inexpressive face.]
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He says nothing. He's got nothing to say for himself for that display.]
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It could be that he'd underestimated how thoroughly Flynn's override had affected Rinzler's behavior. Or this place--in addition to this absurd, aggravating flood that couldn't be over soon enough--had done more to the security program than CLU had yet realized.
His tail flicks behind him.]
Finished?
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