More destruction on the news, this time a little too close to comfort. Downtown Manhattan, the reporters approached the group of instrument droids in hopes of getting answers.
'Why do you target tech shops? What's the bigger plan?'
'The message should be clear. We're sick of being toys, we're living beings too, and until we're treated as such, we'll continue to protest loudly. And just to make sure everyone knows, we wouldn't be doing this if you just listened to us in the first place.' The dog-headed droid barked into the microphone.
Bass bounced his leg, honing in and spacing out. "I know that guy."
"Say somethin'?" Neil asked from the other room.
"Oh, just thinking out loud," he responded, fixing his hair. That's right, they had a show to put on.
Right across the street of where the live feed was rolling in from.
Neil rolled in, fixing the straps around his torso. He unhooked his LED helmet from its charger and held down its power button. "You good?" he noticed the anxious posture.
"Anubis," Bass pointed, "they're an old friend of mine. Um, ex-friend. And they're right next to where we're going."
"I get it, you don't want to run into them huh?"
"I doubt they would recognize me, but..." He stuck on his magnetic earrings. "They left me for dead, and I wish I could say that makes me upset, but it was the out I needed. I used to do this sort of stuff with them and Zarse all the time, I didn't think anything of it. Like, it's hurting people, but it's also hurting robots too."
Daneil glanced at the clock. They had time to spare. "What made you stop? Like, what made you want out?"
Bass sunk back in the chair, "I got caught in crossfire. Some of us began worrying about the bigger picture, and Anubis didn't want anything to do with it. It was like a 'you're with me or you're not' thing -which, I was totally cool with- until I got my speakers slashed and was dumped in an alleyway. I realized that although I agreed with the idea, it wasn't about 'us' robots, it was about 'the robot movement'. Then after that, I kind of gave up."
"And it became less personal?"
"Yeah. I didn't jive well with that. If we're just numbers to them, then what difference is it between that and what 'the humans' think?" Bass rubbed his arm. He watched his boyfriend pull open the fridge, "Sorry to be a buzzkill so soon before a performance."
Neil bit into a cold dorito shell taco, "Itsh okay, it happens. Sometimes you just gotta get it out of your shistums beforehand."
"Yeah," He stood up and slipped his boots on. Once more, he felt like Neil didn't get it at all, or that he was choosing not to. "Yeah, I guess. We should take the back way around."
"Mhm," He stuck the rest in his mouth before fitting the helmet on and pre-setting the screen.
