abandonware | i n [B] o x . // acata.

[To say A2's avoided crowds would be a vast understatement. In all respects, she's been a ghost — not anywhere near the Temple, not in the room she and A4 have shared since the latter's arrival, not anywhere.

She feels a twinge of something like guilt at A4's approach as a result, emerging, landing in a crouch from her perch in a tree up above. She looks better put-together than one would expect, at least — someone's taken a comb to her hair and she's dressed.]

Number 4.

[It's not relief that she feels, not exactly. Part of why she'd been avoiding anyone was out of the dimly held fear that they would all be gone. This emotion does not register to her fully: it's trapped under numbness. But her expression does soften.]

...

[It seems stupid to say hello.]

I've been here the whole time. [a pause, and she adds, gruff:] Sorry.

No need to apologize. After everything that's happened, I thought you could use some time alone. But don't think I could leave you alone for too long!

[ Not like the years of loneliness after Pearl Harbor. Something she still regrets.

Despite recent events, she puts on a smile. Outwardly resilient, at least. It would be a lie to say their previous mission hasn't effected her. And knowing how much of their numbers in the Circle has dropped, it serves as a reminder that it could happen to her too. Back to being a dead android. Until that happens, she wants to do as much as she can for her former captain.

She steps forward, looking A2 up and down. ]

Nice to see you've been able to keep nice and tidy too. Still, might be good to keep some extra clothes for later.

[ A grin, as she makes a vague gesture to the light blue garment in her arm. ]

You can come back whenever you'd like, you know.

...Yeah.

[A2, as expected, doesn't return the smile. She plucks at the ends of her sleeve, as if looking for a loose string, and shrugs some in answer. She has questions, knowing of the data Anemone shared with her on her team, that Number 4's personality data had been deemed unsuitable for long-term combat. It was such a cold and analytical way to dismiss her, but A2 thinks of it now, in the aftermath of Akvos and all that destruction, and wonders at it.

Instead, she affords a curious nod to what A4 is carrying.]

What's that?

[ And as expected of A4, she doesn't allow her expression to falter. To keep smiling even in a difficult situation is what she's programmed to do. Especially with everyone's low spirits, someone has to do it.

Unfurling the piece of clothing, she reveals the long, blue night gown. It's a color that's a far cry from the usual black during their days under YoRHa Command. Clearly unsuitable for combat and not for outdoor everyday wear. Not that A4 realizes it. ]

It's a dress. [ She doesn't know enough to properly call it "sleepwear"... ] Cute, right? We don't have to wear black all the time. Not anymore.

[A2's brow furrows. She takes it, baffled, turning the clothing over in her hands.]

Seems hard to fight in. [She says, after a pause. She's just imagining tripping over the hem or getting it caught in something..]

[ She laughs a bit, delighted to see that A2's accepting her seemingly strange choice of new clothing. ]

Who said you'd have to fight in it?

[ Just walk around and look pretty in it. Or, well. She can try to fight in it. A4's not stopping her. ]

Why wouldn't I fight in it? [Is her counterpoint, after turning the clothing back and forth in her hands. It was a little too long not to trip over in a fight...]

We're designed for combat.

i n [B] o x . // acata.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject