Kongō lounged on her pagoda, half sitting half lying on her side, enjoying the wind and looking at the sketch she had pillaged.
Well, theoretically she hadn't even remotely stolen anything, but having it felt like the most illegal thing ever and she had killed people.
She also didn't feel any kind of remorse for said killings, but an immense amount over that piece of paper.
Suppressing a heavy feeling, she looked down from her viewpoint to watch Zeitwächter and Churchgrim play together, the ball jingling with every push or kick, and let herself fall on the side again.
This sketch… couldn't stay with her. Guilt was a pretty new feeling, but she already hated it.
She hated the entire concept of Mental Models the same amount as she did the first time she had gotten one and when losing Maya tore her heart apart – even if that had been for different reasons each time – as she did now.
Feelings, in short, were more work than they were worth and if she could go back to never having felt them then-
…Then she wouldn't.
Kongō wanted to scream. In frustration.
Instead, she rolled on her back and covered her eyes with an arm.
Why was this so much anyway? A piece of paper with biro ink on it should neither stress her out so much nor occupy that much processing power.
The jingling of the ball stopped, then it continued after a few minutes. Must have gotten stuck somewhere.
Kongō knew that she couldn't just give the paper back; Zeitwächter was very sensitive and, while hiding it, would most likely feel a bit hurt.
She looked at the sketch, really looked at it.
It was a very nice dress, she wouldn't mind wearing it at all with a few changes, so what could they be?
Shorter sleeves would be a good thing, the top needed a few changes as well, though she couldn't tell which just now, and maybe different shoes.
Was that enough to warrant a giving back? Damn, hopefully it was.
A few hours later, when Churchgrim and Zeitwächter were done playing and relaxing in the shade, wind playing with fur and hair, Kongō jumped down from her pagoda, on Zeitwächter's deck, petted the dog and held the sketch out to the battleship: "Not now, but I would like a few changes."
Zeitwächter's face had already been glowing with a smile when she felt the other come over, but now it somehow brightened even more: "Okay! Why not now?"
Kongō nodded towards the dog lying on his side as if shot and then looked at his sister, who didn't look a lot better, pointedly.
"It's fine it's fine!", she began heaving herself up, "I'm a Fog ship, after all, I don't get physically tired and my mind needs something to do!"
First of all, that's not how that worked – the Fog's energy was insane but it wasn't endless – secondly, the Fleet of Masks curse, nanomaterial errors, had seemingly caught up with Zeitwächter's left knee and engine and her processor was concentrating on fixing those; it wouldn't mind a goddamn rest.
However, one had to credit her with a big processing power and also admit that she was more than annoying with nothing to do.
"Stay down, I'll bring your things", Kongō was already on the move.
"It's fine, I can just make-"
"No."
Annoying idiot, Kongō thought, who makes new things out of nanomaterial when they're having problems with them!?
Zeitwächter, obviously.
Suppressing an eyeroll or two, the blonde went into Zeitwächter's bridge-turned-office, got the first paper and pencil she saw and returned to hand them over, both Mental Models sitting and leaning against the battleship's superstructure.
"So, what changes do you want, Kon-chama?"
She repeated her thoughts from earlier, Zeitwächter nodding along and eyes already cross-referencing the sketch, Kongō and her ideas.
"Ok…", Zeitwächter said more or less absentmindedly, laying the foundations for a new sketch and then handing the pencil off to Kongō, "what do you have in mind for those sleeves?"
Kongō took the pencil slowly, not entirely sure yet, and sketched a shaky sleeve.
Well, it certainly wouldn't win an art contest, but it got the idea across (the obvious difference in skill aggravated her, though).
The other treated it as a fully workable part of the future design and completely ignored how crooked it was.
"Something like that."
Zeitwächter beamed: "It's cute! It looks a bit like a fan. What about the top, Kon-chama?"
Kongō looked down at herself: "A… bit of ruche, maybe?"
She nodded: "Like this? Or do you want some more?"
"How would it look with a free back?"
"Oh! Good idea!", the artist sketched that out as well and then they had descended into a rabbit hole of different design ideas; cuts, patterns, lengths – you name it.
When they climbed out of their wild haze, they had easily crossed out, readjusted and scrapped at least ten different dresses until turning up at the final version which now was held by one of Kongō's and one of Zeitwächter's hands.
"The colouring shouldn't have taken that long…"
"Neither should have the patterns…"
The dress was a dark purple, back and shoulders free, chest partly covered by the "normal" fabric, the other part by a slight see-through fabric with dark patterns, one leg bared thanks to a slit, long train, arms decorated by intricate patterned fabric under slightly flowing sleeves.
It was quite the beautiful piece.
Zeitwächter looked at her friend, eyes still awfully bright: "Are you going to wear it starting today?"
"Give me a break", she waited out the snicker, "tomorrow."
Also, the sun had already mostly sunk down behind the horizon – the day was almost over already so it didn't really matter.
You want to show off, a traitorous part of her mind threw in, but it was petted, fed and tucked into bed patiently.
