Me: ...
The Reader: ...
Me: I can explain- *Someone throws a rock at me and I die*
Okay, so... I may have gotten carried away with this one. And then I finished reading a book my friend recommended to me, and I had to go over to her place to gush over it with her, then there was a thunder storm, and then we were looking at memes on the internet, and then the storm was over, and she had to go home... It was a mess yesterday. A good mess! But still a mess. Can I interest anyone in a branch in the middle of the road?
...Yeah, nevermind. Anyway! Day 6's prompt is "Date", and I... really stretched the meaning of the prompt for this one. I just really wanted to get this fic out, and it's technically a "date", so... it's what you get! See you at the bottom of the page!
It was just over a year since the chief had been freed from prison and the Toppat Clan had begun to regain its footing after the infiltration of the airship. Right had seen a lot of strange things happen in that time, but seeing Reginald Copperbottom himself, standing on a ladder in the halls of the airship, hanging banners and decorations of all kinds while humming aloud without a care in the world… Well. You could color the Right Hand Man surprised, so to say.
In fact, now that he thought about it, there was an air about the clan that implied more than just a hurry to get things back to the way they were. Some members and treasures had been lost, and their political connections weren't what they used to be, but despite that, the clan seemed… cheery. People walked with a spring in their step, chatting quietly with each other as they worked their tasks, and taking a second here and there throughout the day to admire the decorations being hung up for some reason.
Right leaned against the wall, looking over some paperwork while keeping an eye on Reginald as he teetered on top of the ladder, and wondered what the occasion could possibly be. Reginald had been free for a while now, and while it had been a fantastic victory for the clan, it wasn't the sort of victory that earned this kind of good natured merriness. No, something else had to be going on, but for the life of him, Right couldn't remember what it was.
A Toppat that he only knew as Earrings walked past him just then, talking loudly among her associates. "I can't believe it! It's finally coming!" She was saying. "Oh, what should I wear? Should I ask someone to dance? So exciting, just another week until the winter ball!"
Right jerked slightly, taking a quick glance around to make sure no one had seen him do that.
The Toppat Winter Ball, the first since the infiltration a year ago. He'd forgotten all about it, and he cursed silently.
It was something Reginald had instituted a year after he dethroned Terrence Suave, a remnant of Randy Radman's "Party Era" with a more elegant polish to fit Reginald's style. There were so many Toppats who celebrated so many holidays that it was impossible to force everyone to celebrate just one or two. And so, the Winter Ball was born: an event where Toppats from around the world would unite and dance the night away, celebrating the wealth and livelihood of the clan.
That wasn't what Right was concerned about, though.
The ball was mostly just in name, with the fancier dances and such being reserved for the early evening before changing into a laxer party, something both older and younger Toppats could enjoy. But there was one aspect of the ball that was always the same, the opening act of the evening, in a way: the dance between the chief and their right hand.
People could joke all they wanted about how it was an excuse for Right and Reginald to dance together, but Reginald took it very seriously. Every year, on the dot, the chief would dance with the Right Hand Man while the clan looked on. Reginald said it was supposed to represent the unity and strength of the clan, the bond that connected every single member of the Toppats together.
Right grumbled every year when he had to dress up and dance in front of everyone, but he did it anyway because Reginald asked him to, and once it was over, the two of them would usually sneak away to have a little date of their own, just the two of them. This year, though-
Reginald yelped suddenly, drawing Right's eye in time to see him take a bad step down the ladder and wobble dangerously at the top. Without thinking, Right leapt from his position and grabbed a hold of Reginald, startling a few shouts from the others in the hallway from his sudden movements.
"You okay?" He asked, checking his chief over for any sign of injury.
Reginald let out a sharp exhale, arms flung around Right's neck as he caught his breath. "Yes," he said at last. "I'm fine, thank you." They stared at each other for a second, though when Reginald glanced down, his face shifted from startled to… slightly amused? "Now, if you could see about getting us down, that'd be lovely."
Right blinked and looked down. Oh.
He and Reginald were still at the top of the ladder. Rather than running to catch Reginald like he'd planned, it seemed that his legs had somehow transformed into a miniature rocket, letting him fly up to catch his leader before he fell. Right dipped his head further down, trying to fight the warmth rushing to his cheeks… er, his one cheek.
Yeah, having over half of his body replaced with metal was still really weird.
Reginald gently tapped his shoulder. "Right? Can we get down now, please?"
Right ducked his head even further. "Right. Sorry." As soon as he figured out how, of course… Unsure of where to start, he tried wiggling his hips. The two of them fluttered around in midair, until Right figured out that if he brought his lower half forward, they'd inadvertently sink to the floor. Now, what was he supposed to do about his legs? It wasn't like he could think "I want my legs back" and-
The rocket retracted into his hips while his legs popped out in a smooth motion like a telescope being opened. He landed heavily, but caught himself before he fell over in a heap, and Reginald yelped at the impact, clinging even more tightly to Right. Right took a second to let Reginald catch his breath (and his own, secretly) before setting him gently on the ground.
Reginald brushed off his pants and smiled at Right. "Add that to the list of new abilities you've got under your belt," he said. "Literally."
Right lowered the brim of his hat. "You're welcome."
Reginald patted his shoulder (his organic shoulder) firmly, then leaned back to look up at the decorations he'd finished hanging. "Good thing I got it just right before we came down. What do you think, Right?"
Right tipped his hat back to peer up at the decorations. Sweeping banners of off-white cloth with silver and gold sparkles lined the tops of the hallway, like icing on a cake, but with more glitter. "Looks fine to me. But shouldn't you let someone else hang it up for you?"
Reginald shook his head in mock exasperation. "Normally, yes, I'd leave the setting up to the other clan members, but…" he turned and took Right's hands in his. "It's the first ball after… everything. I want to make sure it's extra special this year, and really put my mark on it." He leaned closer to Right and whispered, "I want to make it special for us."
…Oh.
Right really wished that Reginald wasn't holding his hands, because he desperately needed to hide the blush on his face. Judging by the small smirk being directed at him by his chief, that was probably on purpose.
Reginald squeezed his hands one more time before finally letting go. "Now, how are those reports looking?" Right blinked back into focus and turned to where he had dropped the papers when Reginald fell, only to see a pile of ash where he had been standing. Reginald followed his gaze. "...Ah," he said. "Well, at least we have copies. I'll go ask Sven to print some." Another pat on Right's shoulder, and then the man strode down the hall to the offices.
Right stared at the ashes, trying very, very hard not to literally burn a hole in the floor. Dammit, why was he acting so stupid? Someone laughed a short distance away, and Right zeroed in on them. "Oi, you," he growled at the offending Toppat. "Clean that up." The Toppat looked stunned by the order, before sheepishly pulling out a broom and dustpan to clean up the ash,
Right didn't stay to hear any complaints, walking in the opposite direction Reginald had gone; to his own private office.
His cybernetics weren't nearly as troublesome as they had been when he first got them, but what had just happened- burning his reports with his legs into a pile of ashes, nearly setting said pile of ashes on fire with his eye- if he kept doing random, dangerous things like this, how was he going to be able to dance with Reginald at the winter ball? Especially since it was so important to Reginald? The dance was always important to him, but if Right accidentally summoned his rocket legs, or turned into a weapon of mass destruction, or even- God forbid- if he simply tripped and fell on top of the man, he would never live it down. More importantly, though: this thing that Reginald had been looking forward to for so long would be ruined. Right could handle having people laugh behind his back, but he wouldn't be able to live with it if the same thing happened to his chief. No, he had to be able to dance perfectly, in less than a week. He needed to learn the steps so intricately that their dance would be the highlight of the night, impressing the entire clan… or he'd die trying.
It had been slow going, at first. His first step was to make sure his cybernetic limbs were calibrated perfectly, an endeavor that had created a dent (or three) in the walls of his office, from when he tripped and kicked the wall in frustration, but he finally managed to get his body to react the way he wanted it to when commanded. Most importantly of all, though, he learned how to recalibrate his body in case it got off balance, which he knew would be a very useful skill down the road for more than just dancing.
Next was figuring out how much he was capable of. On his breaks and during his free time, Right would sneak off to read through the manual he'd been given soon after he was upgraded, seeing what abilities he now had in his arsenal. The rocket legs and eye laser were apparently just the tip of the iceberg. Right could turn his robotic arm into a large sword, a machine gun, a laser cannon, a buzz saw, and more; his head and eye were equipped with digital maps, communication lines, and holographic displaying lights; and his legs… well. The things his legs could do would be saved for a later time, when he and Reginald were alone together.
Back to the matter at hand, though: it wasn't long before he had decidedly mastered everything his cybernetics had to offer. Most important of all, though, was that he knew the dance moves almost perfectly. Reginald would have no need to worry about the dance going off without a hitch for the clan, which was a big relief of Right's part. With the ball beginning at sundown that very evening, Right was ready to get the party started.
The entire airship was decorated in elegant white, gold, and silver. The banners Reginald had helped hang lined every hallway, and every room was lit with the warm golden light of candles and icicle lights. Every common room was filled with dining tables and chairs, a unique artwork acting as the centerpiece of every table. The main attraction, though, was the ballroom at the very center of the ship: a space large enough to accommodate nearly every Toppat, as well as the wood paneled dance floor, several long banquet tables covered in the finest drinks and food, and a crystal chandelier hanging above it all (it could also turn into a large disco ball at the push of a button, as a tribute to Radman's reign).
All of the Toppats were milling around on the dance floor, talking and drinking with each other in a variety of elaborate outfits, ranging from fine suits to floor-length dresses to outfits that combined the two in a million different ways. And, of course, they were all wearing their top hats.
Right stood at the top of the stairway in the front of the room, outside a curtained off room that Reginald was waiting in. Right hadn't seen Reginald's outfit yet, though knowing Reginald, it would be just the right amount of over-the-top to suit him.
Right was wearing black slacks and a black dress shirt, with a rich purple vest and tie, both patterned delicately with shiny indigo french florets, and of course, his top hat placed just so on top of his head. Reginald always helped pick Right's outfit, since he couldn't usually tell what the "in" thing was with fashion, though Right had been surprised when Reginald hadn't come in person to help him pick. Instead, Right had awoken that morning to find the clothes neatly laid out for him, with no sign of Reginald to be found. Right had been worried until he noticed Reginald appearing and disappearing throughout the day, and chalked it up to him being busy with making sure everything went well. Still, it was weird Reginald hadn't once approached him to ask how he was doing.
A grandfather clock chimed loudly, and everyone slowly quieted down to face him. He took a controlled breath, schooling the expression on his face before speaking loudly. "All rise for the chief of the Toppat Clan, Reginald Copperbottom," he announced, pulling the curtain to the side.
Everyone watched as Reginald Copperbottom stepped through the doorway, head held high and his posture erect. He was dressed in a satiny midnight blue suit with a black dress shirt, a vest embroidered with silver, and a lacy white jabot that was fastened with the dollar sign pendant of his usual gold chain. Rings of all kinds adorned his fingers, and his usual black gloves had been replaced with silkier ones that flared out slightly at the wrist. He'd worn knee high black boots, laced up to the top with a bit of a heel, and that was doing something to Right's heart..
In short, he was beautiful, but Right continued to school his expression. People would be gushing over Reginald's outfit all evening, and Right would get his turn, in time. For now, though…
He released the curtain, letting it fall behind Reginald like a frame, and the two faced each other. Right let his eyes subtly flick over Reginald's. He looked a bit pale, his expression as equally schooled as Right's. He must have been nervous.
Reginald held a hand out to Right, who took it before kneeling in front of him, pressing his mouth gently to the back of his hand. Technically, the right hand was supposed to press the hand to their forehead, as a sign of respect, though Right always kissed Reginald's hand, for reasons only the two of them knew. He pulled away after the appropriate amount of time, looking up at Reginald to find… a stubbornly neutral look in his eyes. Uh oh.
Breathing deeply to keep his cool, Right stood back up, still holding Reginald's hand, and the two of them descended the stairway carefully. The Toppats parted as they reached the bottom, and when they hit the center of the dance floor, they turned to each other again. Right held one hand up, just above shoulder height, and Reginald's hand fit into it neatly, and he set the other hand on Reginald's waist. Reginald rested his other hand on Right's arm, and Right glanced down once to make sure his feet were in the right position.
The music began to play. The chief and his right hand stepped in sync as a single violin played a short solo, soon joined by an accordion. Right deftly pulled Reginald into a turn as the rest of the orchestra they'd brought in started playing. They swayed and spun to the beat, Right even going so far as to carefully lift Reginald here and there when the music called for it. Finally, they slowed down and stopped, Right leaning forward to dip Reginald back in his arms. Right looked into his eyes. They were a bit warmer now, but there was still something in them, something that held him back. Right opened his mouth, the chief's name on his lips.
The sudden polite applause of their audience reminded him of where they were, and Right carefully pulled Reginald back to his feet. When the applause died down, Reginald took a deep breath and announced, loud enough for everyone to hear. "Let the Toppat Winter Ball; commence!"
A proper applause this time, with whoops of excitement as the orchestra popped off. Most Toppats rushed over to the buffet to grab snacks while a few immediately began to partner up and dance to the music. Right flicked his gaze over the crowd, checking to make sure no one was going to start a fight in the buffet line (which had happened at least twice in previous years), then turned to ask Reginald a question… only to find he was alone. The leader was nowhere in sight. Right looked around frantically, and turned just in time to see a midnight blue tailcoat swish through a doorway in the back of the room.
There were only so many places Reginald liked to go when he wanted to be by himself: his room, the pilot's deck, and the small balcony on the side of the airship. That was where Right found him, leaning against the railing and facing away from him. One arm was draped carefully on the barrier while the other held a firm grip on his top hats. Right wasn't sure how the force of the wind up here didn't blow the two men to the ground below, but he wasn't really concerned about aerodynamics right then.
"Reg?" He called from the doorway, the golden warmth from inside spilling out onto the cold blue hue of the night, Right's shadow reaching out but not quite touching Reginald's. "You okay?"
Reginald didn't respond. Right shut the door behind him, bathing the both of them in the light from the full moon. He walked carefully next to Reginald, leaning against the balcony in a similar position to his chief's. Far below, the ocean glittered like silver, the face of the moon stretching across it like an arrow of light. Light wisps of misty clouds tickled the back of Right's neck every so often.
Finally, Reginald turned to him and said, his voice a bit hoarse: "You've been avoiding me all week."
Right blinked. "I have?"
Reginald shot him an exasperated look. "Every second you weren't working, you were always so busy with something that we never spent any time together," he said. "You were always holed up in your office, or in your room… we never even had a meal together! I had to pick your clothes for you because you never had time to tell me if there was something in particular you wanted to wear, too."
"I- Reg, you always pick good clothes, I'd wear whatever you wanted me to wear-"
"That wasn't the point!" Reginald snapped. "I wanted to hear your input! I wanted to share those little moments with you, even if you just said yes to everything I suggested; I wanted to be with you!"
That last word echoed down to the ocean below. Right stared at Reginald, at his eyes that shimmered with tears. He hadn't been avoiding Reginald… had he? He had just been getting the hang of his cybernetics, using every spare moment he had, to… dance alone in his bedroom.
Okay, maybe he could see how that would look like avoidance.
Right's grip tightened on his hat brim, but he didn't pull it down, even though he wanted to. "...Sorry," he managed, not meeting Reginald's eyes. "I was just… trying to make sure I got the dance right."
Reginald blinked at him. Then again. "You were worried… about getting the dance right?"
Right nodded, face burning. It sounded really stupid when he said it out loud.
"Right, you've never cared about dancing perfectly, never once! Why did you spend so much time with it this year?"
Again, it was Right's turn to be confused. "You were saying a week ago how important the ball was, that you wanted it to be extra special this year. I was just trying to make sure I didn't mess up and ruin it for you."
"Right Hand Man," Reginald scolded. "You could never ruin any time we spent together. Even if you had set the whole airship on fire somehow, it still would have been special! Don't you know why?" Right stared blankly at him. Reginald dragged a hand down his face and sighed. "Because," he emphasized, "despite everything that happened this past year, despite all the setbacks and troubles and hardships, we're still here." He took Right's hand in his… his metal hand. "Despite everything, it's still us. We're not the same as we were a year ago, but we're together, and we're us. That is far more important to me than a thousand dances. I wanted to celebrate us."
He took Right's face in both hands, sending his top hats falling over the side of the balcony in a spiral. "Reg, your hats-" Right began.
"Right, please promise me something." Reginald brushed his thumb over Right's lips, stunning him into silence. "Promise me that no matter what happens, no matter how we change or anything like that, promise me you'll stay by my side. Promise that you'll be my shadow, my constant, my right hand, my everything. And please," he pressed their foreheads together. "Please promise that you'll never hide from me. You're so strong, love, and so brave… You should be proud of that."
The wind whistled in their ears like a song, echoing around them in their little quiet spot in the sky. Right slowly closed his eyes and placed his hands over Reginald's. He felt his own top hat fly away, but it didn't matter. "Didn't mean to push you away, Reg." He said quietly. "I'm sorry. I promise not to hide things from you." He opened his eyes and saw that Reginald was smiling now.
"Good," Reginald said with a sniffle, and they brought their lips together, their hair tangling together in the wind from how close they were. A good, warm kiss, with a promise of many more to come.
Finally, Reginald pulled away and smiled at him. "We are going to have to get those top hats back somehow," he said with a laugh.
Right squeezed his hands and stepped back. "Hang on, I'll go get them."
"Right-?" Right jumped over the side of the balcony. "Right?!"
Reginald clung to the railing and stared in a mix of horror and awe as Right's legs transformed into a miniature rocket that sent him zooming around in the mist. In less than a minute, Right returned, holding three top hats in his hands. The rocket transformed back into legs, and Right handed two of the hats over with a surprising amount of grace. "Sorry, they got a little wet," he said, plopping two soaking wet pieces of cloth in Reginald's hands.
Reginald stared at the hats, flicking his eyes between them and his right hand man. Finally, he burst out laughing. "You're such an impossible man!" He exclaimed when he calmed down.
Right pulled Reginald close to him. "And yet, here I am," he whispered right into his ear.
Reginald shied away, only to go on the offensive with a series of light kisses. "And yet, here we are," he laughed. They hugged tightly, taking deep breaths of sharp cold air as they clung to each other's warmth. After a moment, Reginald peered up at Right curiously. "So," he said casually. "You seem to have a better grasp on your cybernetics now."
Right shrugged. "Side effect of learning to dance, I guess."
Reginald hummed, walking his fingers up Right's chest. "Any other skills I should know about?"
"Plenty," Right grinned. "But I don't think this is the best place to show them off."
"Oh? Then where should we go?"
"How about we head inside and get a little cozy in bed, hm?"
"Such an impossible man!"
"Your impossible man."
"Indeed. Indeed."
Finishing this was like treading through mud. Very glittery, sparkly mud, but still mud. Still! It's done! Finally!
The music piece I decided to use for the "big dance" is called "Waltz Katzen Blut", which literally translates to "Cat Blood Waltz". You can find it on YouTube; it was made for a single scene in Studio Ghibli's "The Cat Returns". Fun song! Not so fun name.
I love the idea that Reginald just... hosts a ball, every so often. And I imagine that the Toppat Clan is pretty international, so I doubt they can only celebrate Christmas/Hannukah/Kwanza and be done with it; they need to go all out! Thus, the Toppat Winter Ball was born.
Right Hand Man is a bit of a silly fella. A silly fella with self-confidence issues when it comes to his perceived usefulness to the clan and to Reginald post cybernetic-surgery, but a silly fella. Reginald is also a silly fella. A silly fella who runs away from his problems instead of forcing the issue, but a silly fella nonetheless.
I made up their outfits on the spot, though I had to look up the name of the "french florets" that are on Right's vest and tie (apparently they're just called French floral patterns; google it and you'll see what I'm talking about). Also, Reginald gets high heel boots with laces because yes.
Anyway, I'm going to give this a minute to settle on the site, then post chapter seven, the final chapter of this collection of Copperright goodness. And then... it's probably safe to say that you'll have to wait until tomorrow for my next week of prompts. Leave a review of this and tell me what you thought! Or yell at me for taking too long! Either way, I'll see you in the next one. Until then!