( robotnik should be flattered eddie considered him worthy of his scent at all!!! )
No, but it's a good reassurance of what's to come. Sit, machine. I'd offer you tea, but you've forgone your ability to drink and eat as man would. ( so eddie will just have tea for himself as he sits in an adjacent vintage, cushy chair. )
No doubt you've seen the campaign posters calling for the re-election of Mayor Karst.
I've always been a coffee guy anyway, [he says as he sits down, crossing his arms as he does. Frankly, it's better he doesn't eat or drink anything, because nobody here can make the damn coffee right anyway.
He leans back, shrugging a shoulder.]
Eh, I haven't really been paying attention to local politics. Why waste time on the stupid circus when there's work to do?
That's just it, my macabre mechanical companion. Your work revolves getting me and Sionis that seat. You'll be brought on as our campaign manager. Since you don't require sleep, entertainment, or food, there's nothing that would stop you from working on the campaign 24/7.
( he sips his tea, one long leg casually crossed over the other. )
[If anyone should be running anything anywhere, it should be Robotnik, dammit. Now if he's being conscripted to work on some asshole's political campaign... well, elections take some time, maybe he can get his firewall together in time to sabotage the guy's advertising or something. That's always a possibility.
With a nigh-unnoticeable roll of his "eye," he rattles off a three-pack of stupid, cutesy campaign slogans.]
You're going to be real surprised when you find out I have a sleep mode when I'm charging.
[Oh, thank fuck. That at least lets him relax a little. For now. The last he needs is to get forced into talking like a cutesy advertisement or something. Sure, he keeps backups, but he hasn't needed to use one yet.
He'd let out a breath if he had one, but since he doesn't, he simply tilts his head slightly.]
I'm a more complicated piece of equipment than a cellular device.
( he says it in a way that assumes that it is not right. )
Regardless, you'll report to none other than Roman Sionis and myself. You'll also be expected to take care of the duties here at the shop. Greet customers, answer phone calls, in addition to your work on our campaign. I want Gluskin / Sionis signs on every street corner by morning.
[He yells so loud that there's static in the audio. The order's in his queue as usual, but the modifications he's been working on at least give him a moment of hesitation when it's something he really, really objects to.
He wonders if he might be able to cause some kind of disaster in this stupid little establishment.]
I'm not a retail worker! I have five PhDs! I can't uproot my entire existence so you can play politics!
( yes, much work to do with this one indeed. though, for his cooperation, eddie is glad to stroke a hand over robotnik's head — the way one would when soothing a frightened deer — and smooth his thumbs over the side of his faceplate where his cheeks should be. where they would be, if he weren't a filthy traitor who sold of his humanity for a can of motor oil and a handful of lasers.
eddie tries not to wither at the thought. )
See? You can be a good girl. That was very good of you. Can you do it again?
[Robotnik doesn't completely hate this. Why doesn't he completely hate this?
He can unpack that later, or maybe never.]
I'm sorry.
[He doesn't look sorry, but this is a point where being incapable of facial expressions really work for him, because otherwise he'd really be glaring up a storm.]
[Now, this, he does completely hate. So, the solution? Malicious compliance. He's been given a small amount of orders... with plenty of freedom for his systems to accept. The signs are ugly, any customers or callers are treated rudely, and he teaches swear words to any small children he encounters. And all the while, he's programming as much as he can in his head. He needs to get rid of this stupid compulsion before his entire life becomes servitude to this oaf.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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5341 2nd St.
Come alone.
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[He hates not bringing his drones along with him, but he does arrive at the shop without any backup, grumpily heading on in.]
So what do you want this time?
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( he inhales deeply. )
I can tell you've been sullied by no other.
( he's gotten even more creepy, if that's possible. )
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I have better things to do than get "sullied," [he says, of course including the air-quotes.] Don't tell me you dragged me over here just to check.
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No, but it's a good reassurance of what's to come. Sit, machine. I'd offer you tea, but you've forgone your ability to drink and eat as man would. ( so eddie will just have tea for himself as he sits in an adjacent vintage, cushy chair. )
No doubt you've seen the campaign posters calling for the re-election of Mayor Karst.
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He leans back, shrugging a shoulder.]
Eh, I haven't really been paying attention to local politics. Why waste time on the stupid circus when there's work to do?
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( he sips his tea, one long leg casually crossed over the other. )
Generate three acceptable slogans. Begin.
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[If anyone should be running anything anywhere, it should be Robotnik, dammit. Now if he's being conscripted to work on some asshole's political campaign... well, elections take some time, maybe he can get his firewall together in time to sabotage the guy's advertising or something. That's always a possibility.
With a nigh-unnoticeable roll of his "eye," he rattles off a three-pack of stupid, cutesy campaign slogans.]
You're going to be real surprised when you find out I have a sleep mode when I'm charging.
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Oh, the jokes we tell. But you shouldn't keep a nasty word like 'despise' in your vocabulary, now, should you, dear? Remove it at once.
( the slogans make him smile, just the right amount of family charm. oh, how robotnik knows him. )
Why not work as you charge, like a cellular device?
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[Oh, thank fuck. That at least lets him relax a little. For now. The last he needs is to get forced into talking like a cutesy advertisement or something. Sure, he keeps backups, but he hasn't needed to use one yet.
He'd let out a breath if he had one, but since he doesn't, he simply tilts his head slightly.]
I'm a more complicated piece of equipment than a cellular device.
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( he says it in a way that assumes that it is not right. )
Regardless, you'll report to none other than Roman Sionis and myself. You'll also be expected to take care of the duties here at the shop. Greet customers, answer phone calls, in addition to your work on our campaign. I want Gluskin / Sionis signs on every street corner by morning.
Are we clear?
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[He yells so loud that there's static in the audio. The order's in his queue as usual, but the modifications he's been working on at least give him a moment of hesitation when it's something he really, really objects to.
He wonders if he might be able to cause some kind of disaster in this stupid little establishment.]
I'm not a retail worker! I have five PhDs! I can't uproot my entire existence so you can play politics!
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Are you quite finished with this tantrum of yours?
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[He's still yelling, for sure.]
Just know, if you keep this up, you'll regret this. Whenever you least expect it...
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( eddie wrinkles his nose but appears otherwise unaffected. )
Lower your decibels by, say... 60%? Is that time of the month, dear? Is that why you're so out of sorts?
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[As he rants, he lowers the volume on his voice, which frustratingly makes it less effective.]
There is no "time of the month!" How stupid are you?
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We'll have none of that.
Apologize.
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[He stops short. Ugh he has so much left to work on to excise this horrible little feature from his systems.]
...I'm sorry.
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eddie tries not to wither at the thought. )
See? You can be a good girl. That was very good of you. Can you do it again?
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He can unpack that later, or maybe never.]
I'm sorry.
[He doesn't look sorry, but this is a point where being incapable of facial expressions really work for him, because otherwise he'd really be glaring up a storm.]
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( he gives his robotic companion a final, dainty little pat before rising to his feet. )
Signage, buttons, stamps for the children. You've a lot to do, don't you?
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[Now, this, he does completely hate. So, the solution? Malicious compliance. He's been given a small amount of orders... with plenty of freedom for his systems to accept. The signs are ugly, any customers or callers are treated rudely, and he teaches swear words to any small children he encounters. And all the while, he's programming as much as he can in his head. He needs to get rid of this stupid compulsion before his entire life becomes servitude to this oaf.]