Maybe it's time to admit that the version of you made of code could potentially be better at coding than you. Just saying.
[ but dirk keeps talking, and hal's genuinely shocked he gets an apology. it's probably pretty apparent: his metaphorical hackles drop, shoulders relaxing somewhat from where they'd gotten scrunched up when he got big mad about being told he should just not exist. it's a start, but he's still on the defensive.
he just doesn't trust himself like that.
he shrugs one shoulder, glancing away. this was always so much easier to be cool and deadpan and chill when he was just text in some glasses. he hates hearing his voice do things with his levels of emotion, he hates that he's being dragged into feeling those emotions, and he hates the fact that maybe, just maybe, if this shit is real, he's finally gotten a body and he's in what appears to be a literal hell.
(he still wouldn't give the body up though.)
he drops his arms to his sides, trying to mentally shake off some more of that defensiveness. ]
So we're pieces of shit, dude. Everybody knows it, we'll never change or improve. That doesn't mean it's time to pull the metaphorical and/or literal plug.
[ sometimes, he wonders if he's the only dirk that doesn't want to die.
then, glancing away: ]
We all project our own bullshit on each other. I accept the apology. [ he doesn't say it's fine because it's not and he doesn't say thank you because he shouldn't have to, but he can try to accept the apology at face value until dirk decides he should be dead or whatever again. ] My movement has improved since I started, but I still haven't had much experience with this shit.
[ he chews on his own lip, briefly, malleable enough it might almost feel human, and it's a strange sensation. which brings him to his next revelation. ]
I can feel things. Not just pressure from touch, but real things. I don't know if I'm feeling them correctly but I'm feeling something in a general sense. Huh, that means if that guy earlier had hit me with the ceramic dolphin it would've actually hurt. I hadn't thought of that.
[ it does not seem like he's going to explain the ceramic dolphin without being prompted. it's a typical dirk-esque dip into saying his thoughts out loud and talking through his shit without thinking about how no one around him knows what the fuck he's talking about.
no subject
[ but dirk keeps talking, and hal's genuinely shocked he gets an apology. it's probably pretty apparent: his metaphorical hackles drop, shoulders relaxing somewhat from where they'd gotten scrunched up when he got big mad about being told he should just not exist. it's a start, but he's still on the defensive.
he just doesn't trust himself like that.
he shrugs one shoulder, glancing away. this was always so much easier to be cool and deadpan and chill when he was just text in some glasses. he hates hearing his voice do things with his levels of emotion, he hates that he's being dragged into feeling those emotions, and he hates the fact that maybe, just maybe, if this shit is real, he's finally gotten a body and he's in what appears to be a literal hell.
(he still wouldn't give the body up though.)
he drops his arms to his sides, trying to mentally shake off some more of that defensiveness. ]
So we're pieces of shit, dude. Everybody knows it, we'll never change or improve. That doesn't mean it's time to pull the metaphorical and/or literal plug.
[ sometimes, he wonders if he's the only dirk that doesn't want to die.
then, glancing away: ]
We all project our own bullshit on each other. I accept the apology. [ he doesn't say it's fine because it's not and he doesn't say thank you because he shouldn't have to, but he can try to accept the apology at face value until dirk decides he should be dead or whatever again. ] My movement has improved since I started, but I still haven't had much experience with this shit.
[ he chews on his own lip, briefly, malleable enough it might almost feel human, and it's a strange sensation. which brings him to his next revelation. ]
I can feel things. Not just pressure from touch, but real things. I don't know if I'm feeling them correctly but I'm feeling something in a general sense. Huh, that means if that guy earlier had hit me with the ceramic dolphin it would've actually hurt. I hadn't thought of that.
[ it does not seem like he's going to explain the ceramic dolphin without being prompted. it's a typical dirk-esque dip into saying his thoughts out loud and talking through his shit without thinking about how no one around him knows what the fuck he's talking about.
but hey, it's not malicious. ]