A purely unbothered expression meets each verbal barb that exits the General’s mouth. MZ is unaffected, because of course he fucking is. All the blond can offer in return for fury is a lack of understanding. Still, the larger machine acquiesces, defers to the illogic of it all. You could at least try to argue with me.
What’s offered instead finally gives Rock pause. Grip subtly loosening as he replays the number over. If it were anyone else, he’d think those words empty platitudes. Appeasement. For it to be from the war machine makes it honest, even if the other android failed to grasp anything else in their exchange.
It doesn’t exactly make Rockwell feel better, but it certainly doesn’t strike another match.
“Fine. Whatever.” It’s not like it matters if you get anything anyway. All of this will never be more than a means to an end. Despite the irritation, his companion is fully released.
God you really get on my fucking nerves.
“I could go for another chance at punchin’ your teeth in.” If giving you what you want will make you stop asking stupid goddamned questions. He gestures for MZ to follow him with a slight tilt of his head, more than ready to discard the topic at hand.
Irritation, and yet the Light-bot still releases him. MZ straightens himself, watches Rock spin on his heels to leave. Was it worth pursuing, when he'd already learned how ineffective his battle partner's techniques were when he was angry?
At the rate of their current interaction, the same results would be found. They may be slightly different, but was it enough to tempt repetition? It was rare that the vamploid found himself interested in such a thing.
I doubt you'll retain anything new tonight, given I hardly did either.
And yet he still found himself stepping after the shorter machine. There was no harm in indulging Rock, at least not to himself.
"I believe this is the part where I wish you luck." Or something to that effect.
