[ #2 often rolls with the punches, goes with the flow, follows rather than lead most of the time...but sometimes he feels tested and he gets a little grumpy. The flashes from the cameras combined with the endless wave of voices of people shouting were overloading his sensors in a way that is the very opposite of pleasurable. Before he realizes it, K's already ushered him into his car. Good, good.
Being in the vehicle doesn't stop the fans from trying to get his attention but the familiar comfort of the seats after years of many road trips makes it a lot more bearable.
He doesn't have eyes to roll at K nearly being sandwiched by the driver seat and he's not embarrassed enough to want to look at his side of the window...so #2 just helplessly shrugs as the other adjusts his seat. K just happens to be nearly the same height as his former companion. #2 buckles his seat belt, covering the right side of his helmet not to obscure the crowd's vision, but his. ]
This way.
[ A cable extends from his helmet and attaches to the headrest behind him, where the screen by the console appears with a map and directions to his apartment, about an hour from here. When K starts the car, one of #2's favorite songs start to play, something that is a far cry from his stage shows. The radio's off, indicating that it's actually playing from #2 himself. He needs to hear something good after that madness.
The gold robot leans back against his chair (plenty of leg room on his side, ahem), letting out what sounds like a long buzz that eventually turns into humming. Fans give him validation but they also make him crabby at the same time. Sometimes, that crabbiness has him feel a bit daring. Or in this case, comfortable enough to not give too much care into what he says. ]
Would I be in trouble if I say that people are fucking crazy?
no subject
Being in the vehicle doesn't stop the fans from trying to get his attention but the familiar comfort of the seats after years of many road trips makes it a lot more bearable.
He doesn't have eyes to roll at K nearly being sandwiched by the driver seat and he's not embarrassed enough to want to look at his side of the window...so #2 just helplessly shrugs as the other adjusts his seat. K just happens to be nearly the same height as his former companion. #2 buckles his seat belt, covering the right side of his helmet not to obscure the crowd's vision, but his. ]
This way.
[ A cable extends from his helmet and attaches to the headrest behind him, where the screen by the console appears with a map and directions to his apartment, about an hour from here. When K starts the car, one of #2's favorite songs start to play, something that is a far cry from his stage shows. The radio's off, indicating that it's actually playing from #2 himself. He needs to hear something good after that madness.
The gold robot leans back against his chair (plenty of leg room on his side, ahem), letting out what sounds like a long buzz that eventually turns into humming. Fans give him validation but they also make him crabby at the same time. Sometimes, that crabbiness has him feel a bit daring. Or in this case, comfortable enough to not give too much care into what he says. ]
Would I be in trouble if I say that people are fucking crazy?