Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-28920015-20170331004852/@comment-27661770-20170407010748

"Didn't saty jack about dismantlement, unless I absolutely hafta and there ain't no specs or blueprints or anythin' to go by. I may be a "sell my soul for money" guy, but at least I make sure that someone who ain;t the Devil gets it. Y'see, it's a talking, stitched plush thing that looks like a dog. An' that ain't Rapture. In fact, I'd say that comes way in the future."

GIR shook his head at Gaz. About half of the people talking seemed to have pointed out the stitches, and mistaken it for a robotic plushie.

And likely the newest tech.

And now he caught himself thinking in a complex manner. And mentally patted himself on the back: Zim was gonna be proud of that thought. Dig it out of thought logs, frame it on the wall, maybe title it "GIR's First Smart Thoughts".

Oh boy, having a legitimate, personal thought, despite being a robot, was a rabbit-hole of not being hated, wasn't it?

Subject Delta tromped over to the group, making a grunt at Sinclair.

.EXE nodded to the Game Master. The nod was an unspoken invitation to join their cause.

Karkat came bounding at talk of an alien. He had to see thi-

what the hell was that and oh shti was that a caninelusus plush robot he had to see this anger be damned this was legitimately, pacifyingly calming.

Dave didn't buy the "skin disease" story for one second, but he let it slide. No point in ruining the party yet, unless it was with memes. Especially ironic ones. He walked down the Columbian architecture, almost stepping on an empty Vigor bottle-

oh shit he did and there's stairs