@beyond-use
It took him a while to get one of these mutts to sit still. Very few onlookers are around at this hour. Despite the street lamps beginning to light up, they’re hardly needed to notice the glow of the tablet headed canines romping about the Netwalk.
Over the course of a few hours, some of the larger dogs have a messy, wide maned purple wolf scribbled on it’s interface. Within moments one of them shakes their heads–resetting the picture like a toy. Impatient and frustrated, Bass finally gives up.
There’s something much more interesting walking down the path. Another robot. Though he doesn’t appear as space-like as Zynnia–not to Bass. The goofy eyebrows and glasses…ugh. He looks like he could be related to Auto, of all robots. Bass is confident he knows all of Light’s bots. He doesn’t hide anything, but a certain other scientist might.
Bass circles the larger, lankier individual. Scrutinizing everything he can manage to see at his much smaller height.
“Are you one of Cossack’s numbers?” he certainly looks docile enough to be one of them. Crossing his arms he stops in front of him, foot tapping. Sharp, pink-red optics not removing themselves from the other’s face.
Bass stands as tall as he can, “I suppose you’d’ve been warned about me already if you were.”
