Stumbling about, still half asleep, Kar98k wished she hadn't woken up. Having thrown herself onto her bed last night, she never got a proper recharge for herself and thus was struggling to get her body properly motivated. While she'd finish waking up over some period of time, she couldn't help but mentally kick herself for being so reckless the night before. Shuffling through her office, she was still dressed in full uniform instead of the comfy bathrobe she usually wore in the mornings. Enjoying herself a bit too much last night, she made a huge mistake and was thankful that nobody else was around to see it. Unfortunately, she felt it necessary to apologize to Fredrick for her obnoxious behavior in the maintenance bay.
Stretching as she forced her body to work again, she locked up once she noticed that a folder had been slipped under the door. Kar98k recognized it as the very same ones that would be angrily thrown at her by everyone else that complained about MP41 and her camera shenanigans. Fearing the worst, she slowly approached the folder as if it were about to explode like a bomb. Frankly speaking, if the contents inside were what she believed them to be, she almost wished it were a bomb. Kar98k knew what was inside it before she even opened it, but she still needed to know for sure. She almost died from self loathing right then and there, were it not for the fact that she needed to know exactly where in the maintenance bay that camera was most likely still hiding.
Kar98k was shaking from both embarrassment and anger as she held the photograph, knowing full well that it painted a completely indirect picture of what had happened last night. This juicy piece of visual gossip had been cherry picked out of an entire series of mistakes, being the prologue to one of her worst nights. Sliding the photo back into the folder, she resisted the urge to burn it and instead decided to go on a little trip. With her hair disheveled and her uniform hanging off of her, Kar98k stormed through the halls to the maintenance bay. She hesitated just outside the doors, but decided what she came here to do was much more important than her shame.
Inside, Fredrick was poking around at Angel's head while blasting his music. He didn't notice her enter, too focused on her eyepiece to care for company. Angel had an entire targeting computer built into the side of her head, replacing her right eye and replacing her ear on that side as well. It wasn't discrete, built to look like a fancy piece of headgear. Built into both her skull and her brain, it also couldn't be safely removed. Instead, Fredrick seemed to be trying to figure out the specific mechanics of the piece just in case he ever needed to work on it. Angel, slightly uncomfortable having someone poking at such a sensitive part of her body, was more than happy to see Kar98k walk in. "Good morning, Commander." Angel greeted her.
Fredrick paused for a moment before going to wrap up his work. "Hey, did you know that Angel here has a posthumous combat recorder built around the same idea as that neural cloud black box you have?" Kar98k knew he was upset with her, and was just putting on a show for Angel. Based on his reaction, she was surprised he hadn't locked her out of maintenance.
"It allows my sisters to learn from whatever foes may defeat me in battle," Angel explained, "and allows Father to apply the lessons of my failures."
"Sounds like a dick." Fredrick finally looked up from his work on Angel, finished prodding at her head. "Jeez, you look like shit this morning." He remarked upon finally noticing Kar98k.
"If you'll just excuse me." Kar98k walked over to Fredrick, and placed the folder on the table beside him. She then walked over to the locker where the camera angle had to have come from and went to open it. Fredrick took a look at the contents of the folder as she realized that there was an electronic lock on the door. Not wanting to mess around with a lock right now, she settled for kicking the door and breaking its latch. Angel looked about in absolute shock as she watched Fredrick begin cursing profusely at a photograph while Kar98k pulled a camera out of the shattered locker and hurled it across the room. Pieces of the camera broke off as it slammed into the wall, falling behind a workbench. Kar98k took a deep breath to relax herself, realizing she was now going to have to face the consequences of her actions from last night. "We need to talk."
Fredrick slid the photo back into the folder and slapped it on the table he had. "What we need to do is pay a visit to that smiling rat bastard."
"That's not what I wanted to talk about." Kar98k insisted on remaining here.
His shoulders dropped as Fredrick realized what she was trying to talk about. "Can we talk about this some other time?" He asked, crossing his arms. "Preferably never, I'm fine with that."
"Listen," Kar98k's voice was stuck in her throat, as if she was using it to navigate a minefield, "I just want to apologize for what happened." Shame didn't even begin to describe it, she went out of control. She let her emotions get the better of her, and she made a mistake. MP41, with her cruel blackmail, was simply an agent of karma out to punish her. While that didn't excuse the behavior, it certainly was a justification of sorts to curb her anger for this particular incident.
Fredrick sighed, obviously preferring to talk about anything else. "You have nothing to be sorry about," he said, looking at the floor, "you didn't do anything wrong."
"Your reaction had certainly said otherwise!" At least, that's what it looked like to her. She had overstepped her bounds and did something she shouldn't have, the heat of the moment was a dangerous thing. "You were about to hit me!"
He looked her in the eyes, clearly upset. "I'm not upset with you." He spoke softly, trying to make her feel calm. "You know how I feel about the subject."
"And I crossed a line!" Kar98k continued with her attempt to apologize.
Fredrick buried his face in his hands. "I'm not upset that it happened," his voice wavered a bit, "I'm upset that I'm okay with it."
While the two talked, Angel slowly reached over and picked up the folder that started this whole conversation. Making sure they didn't see her, she opened it and reached inside. The photograph was clearly taken from wherever the Commander had found MP41's hidden camera, but that was not the most interesting part about it. The picture didn't tell her the full story of what had happened, but it certainly spoke a thousand words. These two had clearly shared a very intimate moment that they didn't intend to have. Feeling her own face flush, she returned the folder and continued to be a fly on the wall for their conversation. It wasn't the first time she had listened to a private conversation that was held on this base, nor would it be the last.
Kar98k shook her head, slightly irritated. "I don't understand what you're saying. Are you mad at me or not?"
"I'm mad at myself, more than anything." Fredrick didn't seem to know what to do with his hands. "It doesn't feel right to me, but not in the way I thought it would. It's like feeling a cool wind blow in a hot room, but knowing that all the windows are shut."
"Maybe you just need to open the window." Angel spoke, getting herself caught up in their conversation. The two paused in their conversation, eyes widened as they realized that they weren't alone in their conversation. They were frozen in place as they realized that their private conversation wasn't as private as it should have been, maybe hoping she wouldn't notice them and leave. A foolish mistake to make, but under these circumstances it was quite understandable. "Sorry, I'll be quiet."
"Get the fuck out." Fredrick finally broke the silence, pointing her towards the door. "You heard nothing."
Kar98k simply buried her face in her hands out of embarrassment, groaning at herself for being so stupid as to not notice that Angel was sitting right in front of them. Realizing she shouldn't push her luck, Angel hopped to her feet and started walking away. Before opening the door, she pivoted and spoke to them again. "It is only logical to open a window in a hot room," she said as if she knew what she was talking about, "you don't want to be uncomfortable all the time."
From their expressions, they both seemed to consider what she had said. Still, they demanded that she go somewhere else so they could continue the conversation in a private manner. Leaving them be, she wandered the hallways looking for something to do. Her walk eventually turned into a dance, prancing about the base like a rogue ballerina. Her red long coat fluttered about as she danced, making her feel like she was wearing a heavy dress rather than a uniform piece. With Paradeus, all she could do is stand and pray, lest she find herself on the wrong end of one of her elder sisters' rage. Piety came from fear, and she was always afraid of her masters. With Griffin, they encouraged her to be more open and free, and dancing let her forget about the knives that cut her.
Angel danced into the cafeteria, finding it empty save for StG44. The blonde doll sat reading a book, casually eating some celery sticks for a snack. She was one of the few dolls that actually cared about what she put in her mouth, carefully preparing healthier meals rather than the nightmarish abominations of sugar and carbs some of the others would consume. To the machine stomach of a doll, all food is processed and applied the same with none of the negative consequences humans had to worry about. This made it even more impressive to her when a doll still held a level of self control and made meals with healthy decisions in mind. Angel herself had to control her eating and drinking, her unique mixture of human and machine bringing unknown consequences if she wasn't careful. Paradeus kept her running with a unique combination of nutrients and battery energy, meaning she never had to eat food. Unfortunately, the constant state of starvation she was in led to the shrinking of her stomach from underuse. After joining Griffin, the dolls were nice enough to help her learn to eat again. Dr. Adams said he was impressed with how well her once skeleton thin body was starting to fill in and look human again.
Taking a seat across from StG44, Angel rested her chin in her hands and watched the doll read. The doll looked up from her book for a moment, giving the Nyto her attention. "What are you reading?" Angel asked, reaching over to steal one of the celery sticks for herself.
StG44 glared at Angel as she ate her snack, wanting to cuss out the Nyto for the offense of theft. Angel quite literally owed the doll her life, but she would never hold that above her. Despite that, StG44 didn't have to pretend to enjoy having a former Paradeus command unit hanging around taking her things. "It's an old political novel," her tone was dry, keeping her discomfort to herself, "it uses animals as a metaphor for the state of politics at the time."
Frankly, she sounds unamused with the subject. Working with FG42 and Paradeus, she had dealt with more politics than she cared to see for her lifetime. "May I ask you a question?" Angel cocked her head as she nibbled away at the snack.
StG44 looked up from the novel, realizing she would have to devote time to the Nyto. "Go on." Her terse response went right over Angel's head.
"Why didn't you kill me when you had the chance?"
"Why didn't FG42 kill me when she had the chance?" StG44 asked in return, rolling her eyes at the question.
Angel wasn't sure, she would never have taken prisoners given the chance. The idea of mercy was lost on Paradeus, especially when it came to its own troops. Her sisters were often slaughtered by each other regularly, especially those who lacked a name. Angel was just one Nyto in a sea of faces, each a failure of whatever Father's ultimate goal was. If its own faithful were undeserving of the lives they had, she struggled to understand why others should be allowed to live as well. Death was a salvation to her and her sisters, a freedom from the eternal torment that was living. The ultimate gift she could give to a person, was joining their neck to her blade. With Griffin, she had found a new understanding of life and death, and an appreciation for both in their own way. In a way, Angel had found a little bit of her humanity again. "I never did get to thank you for your help." Angel tried to warm up to her.
"Don't mention it." StG44 tried to sound polite, but still came across a little cold. She was warming up to the Nyto, but her own prejudices would take time to get over.
She slapped Angel's hand away from her celery sticks again as Dr. Adams popped into the cafeteria. The American man looked around, before his eyes settled on a Angel. "There you are." He spoke slowly, still trying to get use to the second language. They primarily spoke English in America, and picking up a new language takes a considerable amount of time for some humans. Often times the girls would have to repeat themselves, speaking too fast for him to understand. Of course, Fredrick liked to take advantage of this by speaking fast on purpose to mock him.
"Ah, Doctor," Angel waved him over, "we were just discussing human existentialism and politics." Her tone was quite jovial, much different than the way she spoke as a killer for Paradeus.
"If I wanted to talk about politics I would have stayed in America." He remarked, taking a seat next to Angel at the table. "How has your wrist been treating you?"
"It's much tighter now," Angel rotated her wrist to show off her range of motion, "thank you."
"Careful, Fredrick might get jealous." StG44 returned to her book so she could ignore their conversation.
"He's very busy being the local maintenance man," Adam's said, "I ran into him in the hallway on my way here. I guess the Commander was dragging him to her office to fix her window?"
Angel giggled, realizing what that meant. "I'm happy for them." she remarked.
StG44 looked up from her book again, clearly interested in what Angel had to say. Adams, on the other hand, only looked confused. "Did I miss some kind of Russian slang?" He asked.
Angel smugly ran her fingers across her lips, making the motion that she was zipping them closed. StG44 chuckled to herself and returned to her book, ready to give Kar98k a hard time later. "I'm sure MP41 will kindly let everyone know what it means."
Sitting on the firing range bench, Angel's white cat lay curled up in a fuzzy ball in the warm sunlight. Once again, things were quiet enough for the cat to spend its time around the range. The cat had grown accustomed to the automatic weapons fire that was often heard at the range, but the dolls did their best to avoid scaring it away as well. Seeing as the cat forced itself into Angel's care, the girls have tried to accommodate the cat despite its brutal murder of Kar98k's precious birds. In a way, their tolerance for the cat despite its crimes was simply a mirror of their own care for Angel herself. There was no doubt that Angel was a murderer, having personally led the primary assault that tore the Brigade apart. Still, she was making a conscience effort to be better by aiding them against Paradeus; what more could she do?
None of this was of any concern to MP40 right now, who just wanted to get her target practice out of the way for today. Not wanting to disturb the slumbering feline, she sighed and waited in the nearby shade for the cat to leave. Sitting under a tree, she thought about how much she had gotten done already today. Only halfway through the day, and she'd already managed to do her laundry, dust her room, and clean her guns to prep them for practice. Thinking about it, she deserved a bit of rest and relaxation. All the other girls got to slack off, she might as well enjoy some time to herself. Perhaps in the future she might have a piano delivered for her own personal use. They had more than enough room in the cafeteria, although if anyone left their drinks on it she would personally remove their hands.
MP40 shuddered as she had another intrusive thought, her mind once again wandering. Ever since FG42's betrayal, she'd been having increasingly violent thoughts and tendencies. Sometimes, she found herself thinking of the time she strangled the Nyto and the sick thrill she felt doing it. Something inside her tingled at the possibility of making someone hurt, the intimacy of holding them as they struggled under her grip. It felt cathartic to cause pain, and this fact upset her greatly. A doll shouldn't enjoy something like hurting humans, especially if that doll was in an important position such as hers. MP40 was afraid of what she might do if she let herself go unchecked, or who she might hurt next. She folded her arms across her chest, trying her best to repress those feelings so she could keep up the illusion of being normal.
As she coped with her emerging sadism, MP40 didn't notice that Peter had made his way over to the firing range. He had a pack of cigarettes, a common human tendency it seemed, and also appeared to be looking for someone. Pulling out a stick, he placed it in his mouth before speaking. "Have you seen the Commander?" He asked as he fished through his pockets for a lighter.
MP40 shrugged. "I think she took the day off."
Peter pulled out the lighter and flicked it, igniting the cigarette and taking a puff. He exhaled a cloud of smoke before continuing his conversation with MP40. "After everything you guys have been through," he took a puff of his cigarette, "I'm surprised she's taking only a day off."
"Vacation time isn't as necessary for us as it is for you," MP40 explained, "but it's appreciated all the same."
Peter shook his head. "You especially should consider some time off," he took a long drag from his cigarette, taking a moment to exhale deeply before continuing, "you're wound up and ready to snap."
She knew he was right, everyone was running themselves ragged. MP40 knew that just because she could work under stress, it didn't mean that she should. In a combat situation, it was only a matter of time before she made a mistake. Worse still, the growing pleasure she took from hurting others might develop even further. She had seen first hand what some of the more sadistic Sangvis Ferri Ringleaders were capable of, and she knew that she could get away with much worse for much longer while working for Griffin. "How do you deal with your stress?" She asked.
Peter gave her an incredulous look as he took another drag from his cigarette. The State Sec agent made a point to exaggerate the sounds and motions, obnoxious inhaling and exhaling the smoke. MP40 just couldn't understand how a human could intentionally inhale something so dangerous for a minimal high, while they simultaneously shun lower risk actions with much higher rewards. The behavior baffled her, but she couldn't even understand her own actions either. Everyone had their vices, and hers seemed to be violent in nature. Peter coughed, pulled MP40 away from her thoughts. "Since the Commander is busy," Peter started, "I'd figured that I might as well ask you how Angel has been doing since the last operation."
"Dr. Adams was more than pleased to show off his experience with medical prosthetics while Fredrick dealt with our salt water damage." MP40 shivered as she remembered the dive her and MP41 took into the harbor, a dangerous course of action for unprepared dolls.
"The Yank certainly has some skills, I'll give him that much." Peter remarked, walking over to a nearby trash can to extinguish and toss away his cigarette butt.
There was that word again, Yankee. She'd heard Fredrick use the term towards Adams before as well, but wasn't entirely sure where that particular nickname had come from. Best that she could tell, it was a collective term referring to Americans like Dr. Adams, but didn't seem to have the same negative connotations as most other names like it. "Why do you call him that?" She needed to know.
"If the kid was a war dog like us, he'd call us names back." Peter laughed to himself. "Wartime has a way of changing how you see the other person; you end up using all sorts of names to make yourself feel better about pulling the trigger. In the end we're all human, and for some reason Americans don't seem to mind that particular moniker. Hell, they sing songs about how much they love being called names."
The mentality seemed incredibly similar to behaviors she'd seen dolls performing on the battlefield. Sangvis Ferri loved to look down on the dolls employed by Griffin, and judging by their disgust towards the Nytos it wasn't too far to assume that they might have similar feelings as Peter had explained. What interested MP40 is whether or not she could apply this logic to the dolls of Sangvis Ferri, and if it also meant that one day they could work together again.
The sweet summer sun set over the base as Kar98k popped open the cork on the third bottle of wine. She had spent her day sitting at her desk and getting progressively drunker, giggling like a school girl at every little joke and quip as she tried to enjoy her impromptu day off with Fredrick. It was his idea to spend the day together as friends, rather than awkwardly hold conversations in the middle of the maintenance bay; it was her idea to get piss drunk doing it. He had stuck to only having a couple glasses, letting her slowly get wine drunk as they talked. At some point she had decided to put down the glass and graduated to drinking straight out of the bottle. Sitting on her desk, she wobbled back and forth as she turned the bottle upside down to drink. Drunkenly wiping her mouth off on her sleeve, she gasped in enjoyment as she had reached the point where she could no longer taste the alcohol in the wine.
Fredrick, still nursing off of his third glass, could only shake his head and laugh at her. "How much of this shit do you have?" He asked, genuinely curious where she was even keeping it.
"Enough." Kar98k answered in a vague and unconvincing way. Most of her wine collection was stolen from the first time she met Scarecrow, claiming a solid variety of premium vintage. She left it relatively untouched, choosing to save it for an appropriate celebration or other occasion. Spending time with a friend was more than worthy of draining her collection.
"I think maybe you've had enough." Fredrick watched as Kar98k tried to drink from the bottle again, but spilled a good amount of it on her face instead. The two of them laughed at her obnoxious behavior, choosing to keep having fun before the alcohol finally knocked her out.
Wiping her face off with her sleeve, Kar98k decided to continue their conversation. "So why did you sign up?" She hiccuped at the end of her sentence.
"Military family," Fredrick explained, leaning back in his chair, "all of them were navy men starting back during the First World War."
"I'm sure they'd love me." Kar98k went a tad hard on her sarcastic tone.
"Well, I have always been a bit of a rebel when it comes to family traditions." Fredrick kicked his feet up onto the desk that Kar98k was sitting on. "Dad said I should join the navy like everyone else did, but Mom's genetics said that I had seasickness. Damn near broke the old man's heart when he realized I was going to break tradition."
Kar98k frowned, her whole body dropping as she tried to visually display her mood. "I'm sorry to hear that."
"It's fine," he shrugged, "I had the grades for whatever I wanted, and Dad would have made sure I got it too. In the end I wanted to be a mechanic, and you see where I went from there."
"Watching your commander get drunk in her office?" Kar98k leaned into her joke a bit too much, almost falling off the desk. She caught herself in the least graceful flailing motion, followed by both parties laughing.
Fredrick folded his hands behind the back of his head as he spoke. "Oh please, we're Russian," he reminisced, "we still treat field radiation exposure with fucking vodka. Do you have any idea how hammered they got me before I even got to see a doctor for my burns?"
"Should we get something to eat?" Kar98k asked, rocking back and forth. She wasn't exactly sure if she should add food on top of her intoxication, knowing full well that she might overload her stomach and cause it to start purging. Of course, she was also too drunk to care; she had a private bathroom to force her stomach contents back up at any time.
Fredrick shook his head. "I think you should get some sleep." He advised.
Kar98k waved her hand in dismissal. "I'm fine," she giggled to herself, "let's get some food."
Fredrick moved his feet on the desk and nudged her off the desk. Kar98k lost her limited balance and ended up falling onto the floor with a shout. He shook his head at her and went to help her back up. "Where would you be without me?" He asked as he held out a hand.
"On the floor," she reached up to take his hand, "but by myself." Grabbing his hand, she made sure to yank him down to the ground with her. Being a doll, sending them both into a flurry of drunken flailing was no difficult feat for her to accomplish.
As they lay on the floor, staring at the ceiling and laughing to themselves, the two reveled in the fact that they accomplished nothing. An entire day wasted, pushing nothing forward but themselves. Normally, this would be seen as a series of circumstances that should be avoided or looked down upon. Today, however, was quite special for its normality and lack of progress. What neither of these two knew was just how important today would become in the grand scheme of things. A great tower in Italy is renowned for its leaning status, a trait that stems from poor structural planning. By refusing to keep each other at an arm's length and finally giving into the desires of the heart, they've created an exploitable weakness. An attempt to manipulate them had already been made in the past; however FG42 was not the only one that had seen this friendship as a crack in the dam. A hapless security camera stood in silent vigil, performing the duty it had been placed there to do. In the end, this wasted day would be a mistake in more ways than one; Paradeus was always watching.