this won’t be fun in the slightest. AR-15 is a t-doll who knows her own strengths and weaknesses, and knows them well—that’s part of being able to work on them and improve where needed, after all. dancing, specifically, is something that she’ll never need to be skilled at in order to succeed on the battlefield. getting too used to this kind of comfortable complacency will only ruin that part of her.
so, she is rigid. SOP-II’s attempts to position her arms are met with slight resistance, but she eventually caves after yet another glare ( this time, promising an extended tongue-lashing after this is all over ). maybe she’d have enjoyed watching others dance, but swaying to the music as they are is just embarrassing. she isn’t making much effort to mimic the movements of the others, instead choosing to avert her gaze and wait until her teammate’s had her fill.
but then, there’s a shift in the mood. lighting is dimmed, music is slowed, and then she’s all too conscious of how nearly everyone else on the dance floor seem to be couples—really, this is definitely the time to make their escape now. it’d only been half a song, but she’s put up with SOP-II’s whims enough.
( besides, she knows that the other t-doll doesn’t genuinely mean half of her fake pouts and sulky expressions ).
when she finally turns to reprimand the other t-doll a final time before leaving, though, something about the look on SOP-II’s face steals the words from her lips. eyes are closed and there’s a satisfied, happy smile against those features—for once, it doesn’t seem like a prank at AR-15’s expense.
something inside her softens slightly, and when her partner’s lids blink open once more and she’s led into a twirl, she goes along with it. fine, she thinks to herself, just one dance.
and she steps on SOP-II’s foot again—this time, completely accidentally. “shit—!”
the mood could’ve disappeared, but sop ii resists the urge to say “ow!” extremely loudly. instead, she bites the brief pang of pain away... and smiles. it is kinda funny -- the normally composed ar-15 cursing of all things because she isn’t able to dance properly and stepped on her teammate’s foot. she lets out a little laugh and she takes the lead again, gently trying her best to recover from that small, cute fluke of her partner.
“that’s the first time i heard you curse, ar-15,” she muses. ar-15 was always so composed in the team, inside and outside of battle. even in the midst of danger, she had a plan (unlike a certain soppo who preferred to go gun blazing into the enemy). she laughs again, savoring that new memory added to her neural network. her dance partner’s little misstep during a romantic waltz. these are the memories she wants to make. these are the things she wants more of since they had the opportunity in this world. who knows when it could happen again?
who knows when it could disappear?
“it’s not too hard, ar-15!” she says, gripping ar-15′s hand just a bit tighter. “one, two, three, four... and repeat!” she explains, foot gently nudging ar-15′s, making sure the right one moved front and back at the beat of the music. “you should have been able to analyze the pattern easily and got the moves right...” sop ii sighs exaggeratedly. they’re two dolls of the same feather with abilities (besides weapon linked) that are virtually the same. “you were too focused on leaving!” she chastises. she sticks out her tongue and blows a raspberry. “you suck, ar-15. won’t even give me one dance!” one out of many.
“you need enjoy the moment!” she says. “enjoy ourselves!”
“prepare yourself for another twirl!” there’s a huge grin on her face. she’s totally prepared for another misstep and for her foot to be stepped on again, but it’s worth it. none of this time feels wasted (to sop, but maybe ar-15 feels the opposite).
