[DISCONNECTED] Mailbox [IC]

[a_perfect_end]

[he got it to beep just like a tape-fed answering machine]

Greetings!

Recently-deposed Grid management and complaints department.

You know what they say: if you can't say something nice, lay it on me. Do your thing at the tone!

Comments

[notglitching]

[Wow, Clu. Paranoid much? Rinzler is, in fact, approaching on a tangent. And aiming to pass on a tangent, too. Just because he hates waiting on standby doesn't mean he doesn't know how to wait.

Tomorrow. Those were Clu's orders, and Rinzler has a timestamp and location to match, too. Under normal circumstances, the current message would qualify as a dismissal, but he'd assumed that much before and been wrong too. Better to be sure.]

Further data required?

(wrap here? we're already logging the important bits~)

[a_perfect_end]

[Clu should know better--does know better, rationally--but that's never slowed the racing of his processor before. He's always like this--just not always with Rinzler, and that had proved a massive tactical error, had exposed a huge vulnerability that he's too eager by half to just patch already: paranoia restored.

He won't fail them again, not by that route.

The message is exact, formulaic, adhering perfectly to the oldest possible formalities.]

No. Your report is sufficient. Thank you for your time.

[Now all that remains--for both of them--is to wait.]

(Sounds good!)

[notglitching]

[It's not Rinzler's formula. Not the one he's used to... not just that. Still, it can't be faulted for its clarity. Rinzler eyes the display for a long moment, fingers curling over the keys—before he nods (to no one) and closes the device.

Tomorrow.]