Chapter Text
Dorothy has noticed her before but never really had the interest to approach.
This changed on that day.
On a spring morning, she stood beside a car whose hood she unsuccessfully sat on, staring while “recovering” her stamina.
In truth, she was trying to calm her breathing. Her personal life had gotten a lot more dangerous once she peeled back a layer of her privacy.
The culprit? The blue-eyed blonde that just now came to check in on her. She tittered at what happened to the engine but was disregarded.
They traded a few words.
Dorothy asked her if… “You are happy to be here, with me, when the guard post needs to be tended to?”
The other woman had climbed on the car wreck to balance herself on the spoiler. It broke. Tsk. She fell. An apology? Annoying.
Some fumbling later, she grinned curiously and answered. “I—I am! I’ve always wanted to play in the mud with a Goddess, like you… Dorothy.”
Oh, how the butterfly cloud stirred…
…
Dorothy has noticed her before but never really had the chance to approach…
Neither had there been time to properly get acquainted with each of the two hundred Nikke fire support aid units
that volunteered to join the Goddess Squad in Operation: Ark Guardian.
Rapunzel was responsible for remembering the names: with time, there were fewer to remember… 
…After a particularly brutal assault from the Raptures three weeks since the pre-Phase 3 preparations began, the only name left for her to say was…
Pinne. A Missilis Industry-made Product 23. ( Code: A.N.M.I. ) The very same blue-eyed blonde.
She had been ecstatic that someone recalled her name ( which is pronounced “Pine” [like the tree] ),
subsequently explaining that as the mass-produced soldier she is, she is “not meant to be anything more than cannon fodder.”
Her undertone bespoke that it feels rewarding to be remembered.
Dorothy was perplexed. This girl’s kindness… troubled her.
Besides, Pinne’s ability for (terrible jokes) “humour” when no one else is in a laughing mood is impressive, if not annoying.
The fact remains that their fighting numbers are reduced from 205 combatants to six combatants.
This would be harsher than before. Not that it was a concern when they had other immediate problems than clearing the battlefield.
One of them upset Dorothy, so, to distract the thought and entertain hope among her teammates, she took responsibility. 
While Rapunzel buried the dead, and Snow White gathered the salvage, and Scarlet repaired infrastructure, Dorothy stepped away to handle the logistics of their deployment.
The preferable target areas for resources were the temporary camps near the procession centre to the Ark.
At the very least, shelters had been evacuated, and the influx of refugees diminished, so there was no need to guard interminable corralling lines. They really only had to worry about themselves.
However, the Goddess Squad has sworn to remain “on the surface” to accompany and protect any surviving humans and Nikkes that come after the gate is sealed, to then enter with them after no one else arrives.
The Goddess Squad?
Them!
…What is left of them.
Context is interesting. Then again, everything is confusing nowadays.
(Even so, they must uphold their duties. It is as their commanding officer said and as Dorothy reinterpreted… “We have to protect this place at all costs. Humanity’s future lies in our hands. Goddess Squad, ready! Encounter!”)
…From the perspective of THREE WEEKS AGO…
(Five months ago, humanity lost the heretofore two-year-long war against the extraterrestrial mechanical killers known as the Raptures since their invasion of Earth four ½ years ago.)
(Red Hood, who had disappeared four months ago following her Corruption, had met Oswald, then hitched a ride to return to the Squad and help them defeat Anachiro (one of the Squad’s [Corrupted] successors and the reason humanity has to flee underground in the Ark), and then said farewell definitely two five weeks ago.)
(The United Forces of Humanity [U.F.H.] and the Vatican Therapeutic Research Center [V.T.C.] merged to become the Central Government [CG].)
(In preparation for a meeting with the squad’s commander and with the Central Government (CG) of the Ark, the previous leader of the Squad, Liliweiss, entrusted its leadership to Dorothy three six weeks ago. Upon her death by obsolescence while defending the Ark [see pre-recorded message] one week ago and subsequent burial nearby, Operation: Ark Guardian, whose objective was to safeguard and guide humanity to its new home, would soon end.)
(Operation: Ark Guardian is set to progress in five phases.
The twelve entrances to the Ark are progressively sealed inside / outside, which is what creates all the noise that attracts Raptures.
Eleven entrances are for supplies. Only one is reserved for humans.
The global elite have entered the Ark first. The rest have won a lottery and must present their ticket to be admissible. Those who are denied / are too late will be abandoned outside.
Only the primary personnel that entered during Phase 1 are needed for the Ark to function. The subsequent phases are deceptions to trick the ignorant masses.
Due to the increasing tensions resulting from the overwhelming number of Raptures, the dwindling supplies, and the trickiness of managing all the refugees, the Central Government has elected to end the operation at Phase 3.)
…
They recently defeated five Heretics without Liliweiss or the Commander.
(A Heretic is a Nikke proselytized / converted to serve the Rapture Queen; it is called that because it does not fight for humanity and therefore is unworthy of worship.)
The Commander has been taken into the Ark for emergency medical treatment.
Liliweiss has died because she pushed herself too far.
They are on their own now.
…
Last night, they held a banquet to celebrate their continued survival.
Dorothy had offered everyone to eat together… Fairy Tale Models and mass-produced models alike.
So here they were.
A table had been set up in a parking lot of the guard post, atop which there was a smorgasbord of food.
Rapunzel called up at the concrete guard tower. “Snow White! Er, why don’t you come down and join us?”
“No,” answered Snow White, “I’m not moving from my post.”
“Fine, then I’ll bring some up to you.”
When she smelled them, she neared the railing but continued aiming with her Seven Dwarves sniper rifle (scope). “…Are those… mashed potatoes I smell?”
“That’s right,” replied Scarlet.
“And that beside it… is that cream of mushroom soup? With black pepper sprinkled on top?” She pointed with her tone. “What are you frying over there? Is that tempura?”
Knowing that Snow White must be drooling, Rapunzel teased her. “Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t.”
Scarlet added, “Why don’t you come down already and eat with us?”
Dorothy concluded. “Yea, come on! There are no Raptures around—”
…Even though the report indicated that there would be no fighting for the next three days, they were interrupted and had to fight until pre-dawn…
—Right then, a shot rang from Snow White’s sniper rifle. “Raptures off in the distance, numbering approximately 4000! All artillery types! Take cover!”
“Everyone, get down!” Dorothy ordered.
There was a cacophony of gunfire and artillery. CRASH! CRASH! The guard post took direct hits. Dust flew in the ensuing explosions.
“Snow White! Eliminate the farthest artillery types!”
“On it!”
“Scarlet! Match! You two and I will move in! I’ll cover you as you slash and vaporize once we approach.”
“Like barbarians, eh? Ye!”
“Oke……..lesgo…”
“I will return to command! …Rapunzel, take the mass-produced Nikkes and aim for any Raptures we miss.”
“Leave it to us.”
“MPNs, rally on us!”
“Yes, Major Dorothy!”
“We’re going in!”
All Nikkes scrambled into battle formations…
The assault was brutal.
Then they were done.
TRANSITION! Aaaaannnndddd, lateeeerrr!!!
They needed more military wares… the water was “fine”… the enemy bombardment during the clash had resulted in the loss of most of their food inventory (which was supposed to last them three months)! (Even aboard their previous airship, the Wings of Victory, they had to forage for food. Now? They needed to compensate because…
With the other 199 MPNs deceased, the Goddesses and Pinne are the last defenders.
Today was Day 10 after the operation phase 3 launch.
When the Goddess Squad and the fire support were the last ones above ground, the Ark would be sealed in four months.
Two months have elapsed without a return (instructions or help) from the Ark.
Now, contact has been reestablished.
The estimated remaining span of Ark Guardian is two months.
…
As above-mentioned, they were attacked last night.
Presently, they finished cleaning after one hour.
Apparently, there was a bag of seed amid the wreckage…
Their last remaining food is… ten protein bars, two bags of cookies, three bags of potato chips…
Their circumstances deteriorated every day.
ARK SEALING
MID-OPERATION
BEGIN
PHASE 3
Now it was morning.
As the / a(n acting) leader (of the Goddess Squad) should, Dorothy assigned the Squad tasks.
She then applied to “take the first step into the unknown” (because “Lilith would have done the same”) and to go on a supply run alone.
She refused help from Scarlet or Rapunzel (Snow White was elsewhere, and Match had not offered).
However, with some assurance, when Pinne volunteered to go with her and to do her part…
How did she do it, actually?
“Attend to the mass-produced Nikkes. They deserved better than to…” Dorothy had instructed Rapunzel, apologizing for asking them to come through the recruitment form, unwilling to look at the carnage, “…I have no right to mourn. We fended off 4000 Raptures as 205 Nikkes only…” She glanced at her, the sole surviving MPN, whose involvement hereafter perked her. “We, Goddess, used to be us seven. Yes, we are deified for overcoming impossible odds; however, if more than one of us leaves this place, we won’t be able to protect ourselves. Six is not enough.”
Rapunzel conceded. She cautioned her to… “…If anything happens, fire off a signal flare.”
“I will. Don’t worry,” Dorothy replied.
Pinne had then shyly made her survival known. “Um…”
“Pinne?” Rapunzel called her. “Are you okay?”
“Wow. You remember my name?”
“Of course!”
“It’s just that most people do not remember us mass-produced Nikkes by name. I’m fine. …My comrades fought with all they had.”
Scarlet cut in. “And we thank you all for it.”
Did Pinne need Dorothy’s approval instead…? “I apologize for intruding, but I overheard you say you’re heading towards the temporary camp?”
“Yes. We have to procure more food.”
“May I go with you? At the very least, I could help you carry whatever we find.”
“No, that won’t be necessary. It is dangerous. There could be Raptures in hiding.”
“He-he, what difference does it make whether I’m felled by a Rapture or starve to death? I end up the same either way.”
Everyone looked sullen. Dorothy sighed…
“…I’m sorry. Bad joke. I… just want to be of some help.”
Rapunzel said, “Pinne…”
“That’s why we’re here, isn’t it? To help with mundane tasks.”
“You don’t have to say it like that…”
“I’m only joking.” She looked at her. “You may think I’m overstepping my boundaries by saying this, but… are we not comrades-in-arms? When times get tough, we must work together.”
A plea. “Dorothy…”
Dorothy droned… “Fine. I suppose I could use your help.”
Pinne was bright with happiness. “Thank you! I'll do my best.”
…
So here they were, in the near wilderness, surrounded by haphazard tents and detritus, with wind soaring through foliage to clear the afterimage of gunfire.
They were…
Near the Ark Entrance. Temporary Camp.
The sun was high, the sky was blue. Dorothy’s palms felt clammy. For that, she knew the humidity in the air was not responsible.
They were alone.
Play the game or be played, right? That conveys nothing. Oh! Let’s avoid epileptiform misunderstandings hereafter.
Hnn…
She realized that, in the time she was away in her head, Pinne had sat near her, on the ruined hood. Thankfully, Pinne stood off and therefore did not see Dorothy’s alarm. Her mask had withstood. She stuffed the blanket in a bag to calm her jitters as Pinne’s chatter distanced itself. Close call!
They put their firearms away and slung the bags they brought to store their findings.
Now was the time to forage in the camp.
Just as slowly, Dorothy trailed behind her… then next to her. They walked.
Pinne peered up at her.
“Look at all these abandoned cars, tents, kitchen items… Do you think people wanted to live here?”
“No. They were holding out for a miracle that would never come. Only a select few… a fraction of the population… were able to enter the Ark. Most people weren’t so lucky. So they made these camps near the entrance of the Ark and waited. Hoping against hope that… there would be more room.”
“And that never happened?”
“…No, it didn’t. Other candidates were selected for entry.” Asinine lottery.
“So the people who were here…” Pinne’s question lingered…
They deflated as one.
…Until it didn’t. “If that’s true, why didn’t the people here go somewhere else?”
“There was nowhere else to go.”
Pinne grumbled. Curious round pupils?
“Their hometowns had been destroyed by the Raptures, along with everything else on the planet. Coming here was their final option. The Ark seemed so close, yet so far away. When they realized there was no space for them in Paradise, and their last traces of hope had been snuffed out, they broke.” Subtle foreshadowing…
“Will… the same thing happen to us?”
“Not for us, no. There is a place we can go back to.” Are you sure?
“…I see! Well, let’s hurry and find some food. Should we start by searching all the tents?”
They stood before a tent. “Yes, but be careful when you open the—”
Zip.
The tent opened.
Inside, there are the bodies of a couple embracing each other. You and me, maybe?
A pungent chemical smell permeated the air.
Dorothy gagged. Pinne blinked. “Hmm… I don’t see anything. I’ll move on to the next one.”
“Does that not bother you…?” She turned away, unwilling to say the ‘word.’
“Of course it does. Just not as much as it used to. Maybe it’s got something to do with whatever job I had as a human.”
What? “Do you still have memories of when you were a human?”
“Nothing specific… More of a… general feeling, I suppose. …That reminds me! Don’t the members of Goddess still have all their memories?”
“…Yes.”
Fan-girl noises! “Wow! That must be really…”
Why-are-you-looking-at-me-like-that? noise.
“…painful.”
“Hm?”
“I feel like there would be some cognitive dissonance. It’s like I’m myself, but different. If it were me, I’d probably have experienced a Mind Switch by now.”
Dorothy didn’t answer.
“That’s why I have so much respect for you.”
Us? Or… Me? Umm… “…Thank you,” she thought.
“How about we move on to the next tent? I’ll check what’s inside the tents. You can check the surrounding area.”
“No, I can check as well.” Weak stomach.
“Dorothy, be honest. You’re not familiar with the sight of a human corpse, are you?”
…Shut up.
“Sorry-y. I’ll do it. We don’t want a Goddess doing all the dirty work, anyway.”
I need to… “I want to do it. Please.”
“I-If you insist.”
“Thank you.”
Stupid cadavers in the camp.
They reinflated. Dorothy stood as Pinne hurried away, seemingly… no, no. Once more, there was distance between them…
…
Furthermore, Pinne later called after her. “Hey! I got this side! I’ll be here!”
“Certainly, you may go ahead.” Even as her voice carried a trace of her characteristic condescension, she might have been exuding… an uncharacteristic emotion through her polite smile. “Be wary of traps! (She self-dusted.) I encountered a tripwire earlier…” Ha! That point-blank shrapnel had been innocuous.
Pinne then spoke a second time, but Dorothy did not hear her at first. Her concentration had been inexplicably drawn to her face. How many times had she looked at her like that, without understanding why? She used to skim over the many other “first batches” of mass-produced Nikkes that were part of their defence strategy before, but she would focus on this one who is… exceptional.
For one, Pinne does not wear the impersonal armoured visor-headset headpiece, and she has a crystal fleur-de-lis pendant.
Quite fitting for a pert, personable, sunny woman with a resting grin, who closes her eyes whenever she chortles, is naive, and, since she tries too hard to impress, whose bearing is casual. Useless gestures communicate her timidly eager mien. She also deems herself to not rival the Goddesses…
This observation applies right now. Or… maybe it did not? When asked, “What did you say?” Pinne repeated, “Let me know if I start getting in the way or anything.”
“That cannot happen,” was Dorothy’s response. Who told that to Liliweiss, her predecessor, again? Maybe she should go see her at her sarcophagus soon. They both……?
…Huh? She is vaguely, if at all, aware. Pinne called out again, waving to a depot tent built around an armoured car. “…Then you don’t mind if I take what’s in there?”
…She sounded sheepish! Furthermore, she was also looking at her. Did she realize she had been staring? Oops.
Dorothy composed herself and, nodding respectfully, assumed a practiced smile before she responded.
“Not at all. You are welcome to take whatever you can carry.”
“Okay!” exclaimed Pinne, and away she went.
Once again, Dorothy watched her comrade move around the encampment. She grasped the folds of her skirt, as though… disappointed?
…If her gait is interesting, then the way Pinne carries herself is… unbothered. Why does she stand like that? That made her shift subtly.
Was this discomfort? Envy, maybe. That girl looks like she knows how to have fun! She understood now. She wished to learn more from her.
What could she be missing?
Dorothy is an enigmatic, prim, astute woman with a resting half-smile who squints whenever she snickers, is captious and, as lax as a ballerina, whose bearing is stately. Her useful gestures spell her ‘I-am-better-than-you’ mien. As the acting leader, she also wishes there were more Goddesses…
Does the ipso facto leadership allow her to recruit…?
Her? Pinne? Why does she give her a feeling of Déjà Vu?
A mental slap (and prayer for her makeup) later, Dorothy searched through the camp as well. She took careful, swishing strides while disciplining her hands to remain at her sides.
It was not the most ideal, being here when she wanted to keep her hair and her outfit clean: a translucent-sleeved white mini dress (with a rearward pannier and iridescent organza folds and twin ridged fish wings tailing & ribbons), sheer thigh high stockings, white heeled boots (with gold fleur-de-lis crowns), and miscellaneous accessories (pervenche ribbon with the largest cut diamond over a ruffled choker, and a one-sided veil).
(She does not need armour: her body is nearly bulletproof…)
It is to be noted that one of the reasons she “holds back” her strength and combat “barbarism” is not out of modesty, but rather to avoid the risk of staining her clothes. Then again, if she fought in dust and rubble in the two previous years, then she could do it here.
Meanwhile, Pinne was better geared: turtleneck coveralls with too-long sleeves, gray ballistic cuirass with a ridged breastplate and shell holders and pouches, and shoulder pads and a groin guard, black gloves, gray combat shoes, and her crystal fleur-de-lis pendant necklace.
(She needs to wear armour.)
She, a Product 23, looks like the most “normal” (throwaway) of all MPNs: recycled armour over ill-fitting clothes. (Not only is Missilis not benevolent with its units, her equipment is inferior to Products 08 / 12.) Her survival is quinary to fulfilling an objective or taking down at least one enemy. Moreover, barring her admiration for the Goddesses, she is obliged to assist them, no matter how trivial their concerns might seem. Despite her youthful disposition, and although cheerful, it also seems she does not receive compliments well…
………That aside, this is not why Dorothy could not envy Pinne. So, upon noticing the peeking, she handwaved dismissively. This place is filthy.
Her upper lip curled as she looked around but kept traipsing while her eyes flashed during an information search online in her head…
RUNNING SELF-SCAN
[ ¦|IlIl|lI|Il¦|¦lI|Il|lIlI|¦ ]
FIRST-GENERATION
FAIRY TALE MODEL : 02
DOROTHY
– CONFORM TO YOUR LIES UNTIL RUBY ON YELLOW LEADS HOME -
RUNNING ALLY SCAN
⇢⪢ D-12 A 23456 ⪡⇠
FOURTH BATCH
PRODUCT 23 # 622
MPN
(PINNE)
PROPERTY OF MISSILIS INDUSTRY
(A “Nikke” is a super soldier: a person’s human brain housed in a mechanical body capable of wielding heavy weaponry.
[ “Body” refers to the human-like pseudo-anatomy and “‘Ideal Self’ makeup” integument. “Frame” refers to the brain containment unit and the endoskeleton with the attached hardware and weapon apparatuses. ]
They are all women. To a “human”, She is now an “It”.
Her human rights are disregarded. She is reduced to the status of “weapon.” A woman is deprived of her birth name when becoming a Nikke, as “humans” label her with a new name to dehumanize her; strangely, that applies to unique Nikkes, since MPNs refer to themselves with their human names.)
(Created two and a half years ago, The “Goddess Squad” is composed of the six first-ever Nikkes, plus one Melee-MP they later recruited.
[ Liliweiss ( № 01 ); Dorothy ( № 02 ); Snow White ( № 03 ); Rapunzel ( № 04 ); Red Hood ( № 05 ); Match ( № 06 ); Scarlet ( # 49 ). ]
They are supernaturalized superweapons. They are celebrities and are deified. Five members are alive today, and the fate of the fourth will soon be unknown.)
Today, they must feed six people, not 205, so…
Their goal was to obtain food.
The Goddesses are prototypes — first-generation (Fairy Tale Model [Grimm]) Nikkes — and thus need to nourish their brains and sleep.
In contrast, Pinne ( # 622 ), being a newer, ordinary, bland MP model, has no need for sustenance or sleep because the power of her core “feeds” her brain.
Everyone’s power core powers their frames. Most of all, everyone has to eat to avoid the fatal “Mind Switch” cognitive dissonance.
When Dorothy and Pinne finished looting, they regrouped in the middle of the camp.
There, they found a ditch with a heap of furniture. It is so incongruous that they glanced at each other confused, then back to the objects.
“Well, that’s something,” Pinne commented while panning her view. “Nice view.”
Dorothy blinked when her teammate’s eyes lingered on her rather than the ditch. She is the view. That almost undermined her wit.
“You are giving me a long look,” she said while tossing her hair over her shoulder with a flick of her wrist.
After all, envy is only natural, really.
However, when Pinne continued to goggle, surprise and uncertainty impelled Dorothy to form that dainty expression where she lifts her eyebrows and puckers her parted lips. An open-mouthed pout, if one must.
“…What is it?”
“Your hair is pretty long,” Pinne remarked. Coming from a girl whose hair is as unruly as a mutt’s and is tied in a messy ponytail, there is admiration there. Indeed, Dorothy’s hairstyle, which consists of her knee-length straight-wavy hair, a headband braid, and a side bun, is as impeccable as her everything else. It can be considered stylish… and time-consuming to style… by oneself.
Dorothy was further pressed when Pinne added, “It matches your eyes well, too! Pink and… amethyst?”
Is she doing this purposely?
The focus of those eyes — which looked at you as if you were the most interesting centrepiece of any scene — certainly did not help.
And who thought to allow Nikkes to blush? What was she, seventeen?
Not anymore, so Dorothy could not react as such!
Her immediate reaction had betrayed her, though!
She put some respectable space between them, then, wary not to disrupt her smile while pursuing eye contact, slanted her hips and crossed her thighs and placed one boot in front of the other. “Yes, it can be difficult to maintain at times. Thank you.”
There it is. What?
Pinne figured that Dorothy was known for her easy conversations. This… did not seem to be her usual self, though. She replied with a whip of her hair. “Heh, okay, if you like it that way! You’re also welcome.”
This girl. Dorothy grimaced, and Pinne hesitated. She needs to regain control. Automatically, her head tilted slightly, draping long pink hair over her shoulder. She would answer, aiming for nonchalance. “I presume you also like your hair that way, apropos the improbability of washing it regularly? As for your clothes…”
The idea was incomplete.
Reason one: Pinne set her shotgun aside to fix her ponytail… which was distracting.
Reason two: unclean clothes appeared not to matter to Pinne.
Her MISG-09 slug shotgun is made for playing rough, so that was dirty too.
In fact, the silly champagne buckaroo slid down the slope of the ditch to hunt for treasure.
Aptly so, with a glimpse over her shoulder, she went on to say, “Uh-huh, that’s right, it keeps it out of the way! But I have to ask, Dorothy… Aren’t you at risk of staining your dress here?”
Dorothy wrinkled her nose at that mention, and, as she primmed her lips, her hand already came up to display her attire, which she cared for with unhealthy diligence. Even her hard light rifle was clean.
(In reality, her face hardly budged.) Amused or disdainful, she regained her aplomb and protested, “I’ll have you know these garments are designed for combat as well as fashion.”
“Really? You, the fashion icon in distress, don’t mind stains?” Pinne asked, not rhetorically, even though she scolded herself for the blasphemy. Why am I like this?! Regardless, the question is compelling, considering she was shin-deep in mud, all while handling grimy bits of whatever is down there…
Ouch. Dorothy nearly reacted. Instead, she frowned slightly as she smoothed her bodice again with a sniff.
“Well, I do not like getting dirty—” she gestured to the grime on Pinne “—but this is susceptible to laundry detergent, isn’t it? Or bleach… because now we are slumming it.”
“Y-yeah! Yeah. But, uhh, how much was your outfit…?”
“…Three hundred and forty million dollars. Excluding the accursed diamond.”
“Ooh-h! Err.”
“Hhnff. Yes.”
She has control over the situation… yes? In reality, the pomposity was indignation. Someone is interested in… her?
Dorothy turned her head, as if Pinne is sending her too much light. But… why did she tolerate her impudence?
How did the tacit contempt in her eyes turn into understated interest? Her pentagonal pupils unconstricted. Moreover, her iris’ artificial trichromatic twinkling twinkle, which gives her backlit eyes their “lustre,” brightened!
Why does this matter?
Can a scribble on a desk compare to an oil painting?
A wax crayon to a living doll of a woman?
Well, it does not.
Both are creative.
It is only after Pinne scaled the ditch that Dorothy would re-face her… later. What did she scavenge? She was unaware. Hopefully, the usefulness of the bag’s contents would not invite invective.
…Ah, what is Pinne doing? Dorothy watched her emulate her admittedly unnatural cambered weight distribution, only to stumble! She didn’t help her, but she did demonstrate how to assume her uncomfortable-for-anyone-else crossed-legs scissors stance. Pinne chuckled at her second failure again, then stammered that she could do it too with enough practice. The insult dimmed the twinkle.
No, don’t butcher it again, Dorothy thought. It’s… unique to me. The remonstration was swallowed. Therefore, to preventively brook, she must reassert their difference(s). Her body language became subtly aggressive: she donned her most imperious smile and inclined her head to contemplate.
“Besides,” she added, “is style not armour? A little dirt never hurt anyone. It keeps the Raptures guessing.”
Pinne both arched an eyebrow and nodded. After a pause, she slacked and agreed. “Huh! I think you might be right…”
Following that incident and some more looting, they had to encounter disgusting things before they could conclude the expedition. Ew. Nasty. Does that not bother you? Ripped tent. Difference.
At the end, they left the premises with their findings. On the return route to the Goddess Squad’s headquarters, they conversed a little.
They also ate the excess load. They even had a Rock, Paper, Scissors over who would get a snack cake package but decided to share it.
Surely, that was generosity when Dorothy gave her the biggest chunk? Pinne’s “you deserve it” annoyed her, but… wow, she unconsciously smiled.
Maybe they can be like this a little longer.
…
The headquarters where the Goddess is stationed is in the temporary outposts collectively referred to as the “guard post” facility, near the Ark’s door. (They have resided there even before the recent crash of their Wings of Victory airship.)
Two months ago, four helicopters (one of which was airlifting a container) had flown overhead to land at the helipads beyond the buildings. 
These were the last. Human soldiers were already inside. No more help now?
The noise of the sealing crew working night and day attracted Raptures.
Most of the personnel were not admissible to enter, yet they worked tirelessly.However, what if those who are are betrayed?
One of these days, it would be the Squad’s turn to enter the Ark… 
For now, today, they live in the…
Ark Entrance. Temporary Outposts.
They neared the perimeter. Soon, past the compound gates, they were hailed by their teammates.
Scarlet began with… “What is this? Canned food?”
Dorothy showed them. “Yes. I brought back some that were still in good condition. Be sure to inspect it before eating it, though. Better safe than sorry.” Even though we can eat rotten food without consequence.
“‘Tis the most fruitful bounty thou hast returned with! More than enough to last us ‘til ‘morrow.”
Dorothy glanced at… “Pinne did exceptionally well…”
Pinne… blushed? “Please, I didn’t do all that much. A-Anyway, eat up, everyone…!”
Rapunzel entered. “What about you two?”
Dorothy explained. “We ate on the way back.”
Scarlet replied. “So thou choosest to transport some material back in thy stomach. Arrant most sagacious of thee.”
She… laughed? “He-haha, that was the idea!” Is that surprising?
Rapunzel continued. “I’ll divvy this up to everyone. You go ahead and get some rest, Dorothy.”
“No, I’m fine. I can help.”
“You say you’re fine, but your face says otherwise.”
Always. “A‐ Uh…”
“Get some rest.”
“Iz’ nah tha’ bad,” Match muttered from far away.
“…Fine.”
(She thought about… humans.) “Uffh. ‘M- we’re s’posed to be living deities…”
…
After the debriefing, Dorothy reflected on the day. She knew she must have sounded stern and impersonal compared to the dependable leader image she wanted to project, only that duty and decorum held her back, as they always seem to. She cannot afford to eat her emotions now…
Here is the rest of the Goddess Squad.
Five Goddesses and… one MP.
Liliweiss Snow White, Scarlet, Dorothy, Pinne, Rapunzel Red Hood
(Match is off-screen.)
After dissuading Match from toppling a construction tower crane to instead melt a police bus for barricade fortification materials, Rapunzel and Snow White talked. Scarlet joined in before arguing with Dorothy instead. Pinne bobbed glances between them, as if watching a tennis match. (Did she struggle to comprehend their social dynamics?)
When the others left, she lingered around Dorothy, not seeming to know what to say to her…
“Yes?” prompted Dorothy.
The scrutiny embarrassed Pinne. “I won’t pretend to be indispensable, but I am committed to doing whatever I can to help.”
“Good. It is imperative you involve yourself. Even so, let us hope that we may yet receive additional help at this stage of the operation. (She is above handshakes.) As for addressing me… no more ‘Major.’”
“Alright, comrade!”
“None of that, either! My name will suffice. Like you employed earlier.”
“A-Alright! And, Dorothy? Th-thanks for letting me tag along with you today…”
“Of course. We need to do better.” She then added something…
“I see… Five Goddesses and one… me.”
…
At last, Pinne waved her off until later, when she would relieve her of the night patrol.
In response, Dorothy curtsied in farewell and watched her go inside the guard post.
Soon, it was her turn to return to the barracks…
Before, when all Nikkes were still alive, it was an open space. Between the buildings and the tents, well…
Two days ago, they created partitions for a semblance of privacy. 
Dorothy entered her “room” by unzipping the “door”…
Zip.
Back in the camp.
Drip… drip… Squelch.
Dorothy gasped. “Oh my G…?!”
Pinne cringed. “Ew… this one looks pretty nasty. Ah, no wonder! The tent’s all ripped, so it’s been exposed to the sun.”
“What… is this?”
The huddled, motionless shape in the corner of the room…
“A person.”
“But how?”
“Humans are different from Nikkes. Once they die and enough time passes, this is what happens to them.”
Dorothy shuddered.
Pinne almost nudged her. “…Let’s move on to the next tent.”
“Yes… that might be for the best.”
Return to the guard post.
Trash can NOW. Retch. Coolant. Throw up!
…Pinne entered rushing fourteen seconds later. “…Dorothy! Are you alright!?” She offered her water but dared not touch her.
“I’m fine.” Dorothy gave a polite smile and, like Pinne had done, waved her off until she received an, “O-Oh, um, I’m sorry! I’ll… I’ll leave you alone now.”
…
Even long after she had left, she kept staring at the door.
Presently, as they were, Dorothy did not understand what drove her to act that way, what this meant, and neither did she dare label it yet.
She is too proud, too closed, too… beguiled?
Was she a prank orchestrated by her overactive imagination?
Was She a dream?
Dreams are pleasant, and they give hope. Dorothy therefore hoped this repressive internalized phobia would cease after so many years.
However, there are seventy-one problems that must be solved before that can happen… starting with these three below.
Firstly, she suspects Pinne muttered, “Stupid, stupid,” to herself far outside.
Secondly, she fears what Pinne must have been thinking after she was chased off… “I’m just a mass-produced unit. Dorothy probably won’t even remember my name tomorrow.”
This isn’t true. She has to convince her otherwise!
Thirdly, even if she wishes she could further her affinity with Pinne, she would hamper the impulse of her (absence of pretend-heart) core to weigh outward.
She has been raised like so and taught these manners: expression of self is unladylike.
A friendship suffices, Dorothy advised herself. That is the purest form of love, isn’t it?
Yet, that is not why she shunned trust, even as she is tired of death and destruction. So, she aspires to find love… a friend… no matter what it means.
The five weeks remaining until the Ark seals have to be enough…
…
So she looked for the signs where they were (not), she bided her time, and she dug deeper still, but only unpacked in privacy.
As super soldiers on an operation, Dorothy daydreamed until they had more recreation time… and even then, she never thought about pursuing her, aware that presumption is untoward… or, more so, approaching her would be unprofessional and inappropriate. Being an intellectually reserved person with an intolerance for uncertainty, she was careful not to be forward. As for when their colleagues saw them together, Dorothy was tight-lipped, and Pinne seldom spoke out of turn.
Gradually, they fought and collaborated, interacted and hung out… and Dorothy remained perplexed.
Hence, she consulted her friends without disclosing her agenda. She questioned Scarlet about Shakespearean poetry and her pursuit of one of their airship’s male flight deck officers; she asked Snow White about her principles of trust and about her admiration for Liliweiss (despite her Mind Switch); she pressed Rapunzel about Red Hood’s love philosophy and (unhelpfully) perused the romantic content in her stash; Match, as always, was useless on the matter, if not for her notion of belonging.
With these experiences aiding her supposition, the perplexity thus developed into intrigue. That is a sentiment she sought not to master, for it seemed indispensable to personal enrichment. In doing so, her life goal will be fulfilled: to be happy.
Above all, although she is not pious to Hellenism, she sometimes prayed to Nike, the Goddess of Victory, for divination because none of her mental scenarios made sense…
Their relationship was… complex. Dorothy values Pinne as a dependable and loyal subordinate, whose abilities on the battlefield she respects. However, she also values her on a personal scale. Dorothy likes her forthrightness and honesty; while Pinne did call her out on her vanity, she disregarded her failings, instead challenging her to be better without ever truly making her feel lesser for who she is.
Even so, how she works aloud through her thoughts is annoying.
As for her jokes, some got her to snort, though she did not understand most.
The same went for her pragmatism.
Misunderstandings aside, she feels grateful to her, but also… envious.
How could something so soft exist? She simply does, which, to Dorothy, makes Pinne… her musical inspiration… her Dim-Flow.
Reconciling artistic appreciation with abstraction is an exercise. She hears music when she sees her! She probably does, too, hopefully. Or not? But! What if she were her trobairitz one day?
An apt comparison indeed…
This was a game in which Dorothy always lost, and she wanted to keep playing because whatever they ended up doing, it was perfect, simply because she was with her. Writing ([her] a letter of) what she feels might (not) help sort this out. How confusing!
Especially when they were not there: Pinne is inconspicuous, whereas Dorothy’s presence is felt in her absence. Lastly, they both operate on different wavelengths…
(It is to be noted that even in five weeks, the Ark would ask them for another three weeks, then another, and another…
Perhaps they have a little more time to get acquainted?)
Like with this!
Some days, when they were close, the twinkling light of Dorothy’s eyes’ twinkle would reflect and therefore make Pinne’s eyes shimmer.
Aside from that, what was that flutter? The most pressing was that electric current. Her nerves were live wires, stripped and… dangerous.
Because of this, she worried she might short-circuit. Was she defective? Or was it something else entirely?
The context is as follows… to prevent a Mind Switch (during / after “body creation” & “body activation”) when / after the brain of a human person inside a brain containment unit is transplanted in a Nikke frame, the body must have as many bodily functions as an organic body. By doing this, the brain is duped and therefore retains intellectual capacities.
For Dorothy, though the NIMPH in her brain was irrelevant to the situation, the cortical implants to transport the nanites were utilized by another component of her internal systems: in her unique frame, her combat analysis coprocessor (the military tactical computing device exclusive to the Grimm series) and it was overheating. Its strategic software, the offensive matrix, salivated for a resolution.
This… she, Pinne… is dangerous, so it, while already having a measure of control over her proprioception, would seek to overtake her motor functions in an attempt to eliminate the stimuli inducing the “flutter,” which it perceived as a threat.
Dorothy denied it access, even though she shared its “worries.”
What should be done?
Fight or flight?
Is she a foe or an ally?
Is this combat or rest? This was… oh-so much more. Pinne was not an enemy. More like… a friend.
Oh. Yes.
…
Dorothy had ambushed Pinne at a toll booth.
She could have done that, but uttering fit her intent.
“Will you be my friend?”
“Friends?”
Her look said, You are dumb. But it had worked.
…
So they were friends now.
At the same time, did friends do this? When Pinne dawdled nearby, she started to laugh. They were doing that a lot. She purportedly was oblivious to Dorothy being affected by her, but she could not ever corroborate that!
She almost did, on a summer day…
…
Pinne had been standing guard for a while. She yawned. Her mind wandered… to…?
Dorothy had come to stand beside her. She rearranged her hair to part it astride her skirt folds, then surprised her with, “Hello.”
Pinne jolted and jerked her head (from her daydream). She blushed. (?) “H-hey. Um… d-did you need something?”
“No. Can I not ascertain the productivity of the Squad?”
“Oh… I’ve been…”
“…Productive.”
“I haven’t turned to dust yet, at least…!” Bad joke!
“—I would hope you wouldn’t be soon.”
“I, I could cover your next shift?” Pinne asked… expectantly? Yes, no, she was annoying anyway.
“You’re ridiculous,” Dorothy responded flatly. Her eyebrows twitched. “How is your surveillance faring?”
“Okay-ish.” She forced a chuckle but nodded. “…It’s kinda boring, isn’t it? Jus’ starin’ out…”
Notwithstanding her apparent disinterest, the twinkling of her eyes accelerated. “Boring? Not with you, certainly.” She eyed her in contemplation before they looked abreast.
Pinne, now concentrated (and redder), tried to play it off. This had to be retaliation for all her terrible jokes. Right?
It is true that she struggles to find words that are neither childish nor awkward.
Despite that and the difficulty of eye contact with Dorothy, she wishes to improve.
Pinne thought, I wish I knew more. I know it is silly, and I feel like I am wasting your time.
So… her hands consoled each other… and she said this… “Um. I… I like standing here with you, too.”
This could be mistaken for affection. At that, Dorothy bit her upper lip and glanced away for once. Pinne was about to comment again but had to do a little head dip and wave goodbye when Dorothy excused herself, curtsied, and left.
…
…Of all, Pinne is flustered by her presence. Those glances she sneaked during her departure were an annoyance. She is annoying…
Why? Because, like anyone else, she is too shy to follow her; because meeting her is… intimidating; because dreams cannot be caught mid-stride?
Dorothy’s delicate social manoeuvres do awe: how effortlessly she engages with others and leaves them wanting more!
She is used to controlling interactions with enviable ease. Mystery is dehydrating. The thirsty tend to forget their dignity around her.
All eyes are on her.
Or, at least, it used to be like this. An audience of six plus late rescues is inconducive to the rhythm.
Every Fairy Tale has weak points.
¶ UNIFORM Y-1-812 ⚠
The shadow is unseen… Moreover, she sometimes has mishaps. For example, when she tosses her hair, her then-wrinkling nose can bleed; when she turns her head slowly, she drools; when she speaks sweetly, her eyes imply disgust.
Does Pinne not acknowledge those…?
If Dorothy is sinister (beyond her left-handedness), why wasn’t Pinne repelled by her? Could it be that, as the Second Goddess, Dorothy is her idol?
The awkwardness of hero-worship withal, her prototypical magnetism exasperates her because it is subconscious…
As for that subconscious attraction that had been brewing, it was awkward.
Should Dorothy advise her to stay away? Or does she inwardly like the attention?
Seriously, there was only one way to hide from it: to foreground her aristocratic ego, to be aloof and snobbish and dismissive to force Pinne to distance herself so that she would not have to.
But Dorothy did not commit.
She could not manage to put the irreparable between them.
She never stayed away.
These feelings permeate her in less time than it takes for atoms to coalesce every time they get together.
To compartmentalize them had become as exhausting as smiling.
Insecurity, jealousy… She likes seeing her star-struck, so… pity? Contempt? Awe! Fear! Hopelessness.
Her desire would subside, then return whenever she stared at Pinne for too long.
Feeling this way about another girl is inexpiable.
(Raised with the rigidity of reputation ruined by indecorum resulting in exclusion from polite society, it was… disruptive. Despite that, and despite the lack of diversity and inclusivity today, she questioned the extent of her understanding…)
No longer could she gainsay her identity.
While not exactly inscrutable, it was the first and only instance in which Dorothy felt desirous of…… she isn’t certain!
She worried about damage to her facial hardware, and she would primp herself before letting Pinne see her.
She would forget to maintain her mask, and she narrowed her much-needed space because she felt light and relaxed but reckless and irresponsible around her. Her concentration improved when listening to her. She nearly smiled. Her eyes twinkled with an unanswerable brightness as she turned to face her whenever she was in the vicinity, a bit like a sunflower seeking the sun.
Hot, hot, hot…! ⌂ ╪ EXT. TEMP. EX. 1¯900¯000 K ⚠
When they were apart, she would think of Pinne, and she would giggle and kick her legs. When did she become quite so… immodest?
Actually, she was also hysterical when squealing in her pillow… But isn’t that what the “L…” word does? For her to preoccupy her thoughts?
A romanticist’s dream, undoubtedly!
Overall, this ricochet of her absence of a synthetic heart in her centre seemed unreal, much like its agency is an absurdism. How do people even develop that bond? Dorothy struggles to rationalize it. Even so, she wants to be empathized with… to love and be loved.
She only has to determine how to be vulnerable. Well, if she would first stop lying or doing that in the dark when no one can tell…
Could she do that, really? Friendships are tricky to maintain. They presuppose both parties consent to self-revelation.
She is not obligated to share. Yes! No?
What is this?
A fairytale or a tragedy?
What to do?
Exposure or anonymity?
Do they even fit?
Flowing to slovenly?
Haughty to humble?
Grace to clumsiness?
Romantic and pragmatic?
Holiness and blandness?
Deities are open, though.
Oh.
There it is.
A Goddess is nothing without her Precious Wings. Although they were not fully fledged, she would leap if Pinne caught her.
If she did, then that would consolidate the silly previsions she made. As the daughter of a preeminent politician and a socialite, Dorothy could have had a cushy life even as the world was being torn asunder by the extraterrestrial invaders. Despite the eminence of her family, in pursuit of more in life, she volunteered to become a Nikke and fight on the front lines. She hoped that by taking up arms herself, if not to build something better, she could expedite the process of reclaiming Earth from the Raptures and reinstating the state of the world as the one she knew growing up. Chiefly, if they were to succeed, then she already yearned to have someone by her side. They could do so much before embarking on another adventure! Time would no longer feel like a curse but a luxury.
“Oh, it is. What about…”
A synergy of dreams and accomplishments rather than individual accolades?
Alternatively, she could content herself with trysts and mundane activities. There is also romance to be found in a high-stakes lifestyle, which is balanced by the pleasure of coming home to someone. Perhaps a certain angel could be that someone. Maybe the archangel could jump to do that thing she has been fantasizing of ever since she was a little girl…
Would it be in the Ark, perhaps? Lavished with praise on a pathway of flowers with a smile? That implies it is… a place? A feeling? A pairing? Oh! Happiness is Paradise Together! Therefore, Dorothy ought to ask if Pinne would follow her there. Until then, she dreams of seeing the night sky with the girl of her dreams.
Would it be unconscionable to ask?
Whether these notions were selfish, Dorothy does not care, not since Pinne began coming to her for companionship and counselling, and certainly not when the Ark repeatedly asked for three more weeks even as the despair accumulated.
Indeed, as the Second-ever Nikke and as the Goddess Squad’s acting leader — a position that, withal Liliweiss’ passing, confers on her the title / status of “Goddess of Victory” — Dorothy must be undaunted.
A leader is a mediator who arbitrates conflicts to facilitate the coexistence of tensions. Leaders do not explicit their own deficits.
So, she distracts from the doubts in her movements by projecting.
People have always taken her smile for granted and assumed how easy it is for her to be “her” and to do what she does.
In their gruelling weeks of nonstop fighting, the impossible decisions were overlooked… until now.
Indeed, she didn’t give up or allow herself to be weak… because ‘someone’ has always focused on her.
Pinne had made all the difference these past weeks. That became her light of salvation.
Dorothy almost began to reappreciate summer. Almost. Whenever there is sunshine, she would open her parasol, since she does not know how to do otherwise.
She loves sunny days, and yet she shies away from the warmth.
Then, autumn arrives, and with it, the rain clouds come back.
…
⚜
On one such evening, Pinne was in overnight convalescence in the guard post facility’s repair centre, the “infirmary” for Nikkes.
She was injured during a search-and-destroy mission two hours ago. What happened? She encountered a damaged but dangerous mass-produced Heretic! She destroyed it, thankfully, but not without sustaining damage too… She had shot a red smoke flare to request help, and that further provoked two other healthy MP Heretics, which, having felt its fellow die through their telepathic link, homed in to come behead this angel next.
She was on the ground, hazy, dizzy, dewy! The light was occluded. Then, the Heretics came in sight. The two black Helleborus flowers were sneering down at Pinne, they would—! SPLAT! One Heretic’ head exploded. No gunshot? It collapsed then crumbled into dust.
Across from it, a white-stemmed sunflower spattered with red. It danced in the breeze, swaying freely, and then the other black flower snapped. Its peduncle broke, and its petals scattered. Swwwish. The Queen’s prototypical guards had abjured. Whooosh.
The haze cleared.
There, an archangel, resplendent in her white dress, appeared. Wingless, heaving, marred with streaks, she was at just the right angle to be wreathed in light.
Pinne watched her idol hurry to her.
This is the Goddess of Victory. Her.
Dorothy reassured as she lifted her.
“Let’s go home.”
…
Pinne had gotten sprains, fractures, lacerations, and… ALMOST a concussion. As long as her brain is fine, she will be fine.
Although she was in a critical state when Dorothy rescued her, she would live.
Those last three words are what Dorothy tried to convey to her as she carried her to safety. Yes, a gentle carry unlike a fireman’s or drag. She panicked and just… scooped her. Pinne was saying “It hurts, my tummy hurts,” and Dorothy, not knowing how to comfort her, endured her blubbering and obstinately clung to hope.
…
Yes, she will live!
Presently, Pinne is safe with the Goddesses. By morning, her mass-produced frame would have adjusted to the replacement parts — it must be noted that Fairy Tale frames can instantly force any Nikke parts onto their bodies (e.g., teenage-looking Snow White reappropriated a dead Nikke’s hands before she rebuilt her adult-looking body with Rapture parts).
Nikke repair is still experimental, notably for an expendable MP body, but they were accustomed to it. Fortunately, they could spare their sparse resources for her.
Pinne was to be confined to a cot and bound to “medical” apparatuses until completion. 
The sight made Dorothy’s tongue curl in distaste. …She chose to watch over her, as a leader should. She must lead by example, and looking after her subordinates was one such model. Having class shows one knows their craft, and hospitality and gentility have also been inculcated into her.
But… this? This was… different. Strikingly so, in the absence of preamble, as well as a book and her tea set she had brought Pinne, along with a blanket she borrowed from Scarlet, and the prerogative of a servicing before Snow White joined in.
Interestingly, having Dorothy by her side made Pinne stop whining during the repairs. Thankfully, crystal Fleur de Lys busied her. This is the closest to doctoring they have.
Snow White left afterward to act as sentry outside for the night.
Later, Match came briefly to search for her, then hurried after her once given directions…
Rapunzel came by to initiate the Goddessium healing with her magical staff. Did she just wink knowingly?
At both of them?
Debrief had been neutral, so what is it?
Pinne pleaded. “That was sooo embarrassing!”
“At least you are safe. Rest assured,” Rapunzel replied. A golden light beam undulated from said staff. ^
“You won’t snitch on how I got blindsided… riiight?”
Dorothy withheld a snicker. “I— We promise the utmost confidentiality.”
The MPN thought, I don’t need to be protected, so… “I’ll do better.”
I will become stronger, the acting leader thought. For you, I am willing to be… the Goddess of Victory.
Rapunzel announced, “I’m almost done for now. But I could let you two chat and come back later?”
Neither answered.
What is the big deal?
Pinne would be fine, so, yes, Dorothy could have left by then. She knew she had other duties to attend to, but… someone in need… that must have been a viable excuse to stay, no?
An excuse to… evince warmth that rarely surfaces in her interactions with others.
Yes, she was becoming accustomed to the girl’s company. The thought of her leaving is unsettling.
How should she know why she cares? She did not want to find out, either!
It is simply that seeing her from afar disheartens her. At least the strictures of friendship are a buffer.
“Later, then!”
Then, Rapunzel left.
The door clicked shut.
They were alone.
Few words were exchanged aside from a “Thank you” from Pinne when Dorothy tended to the tea service. Once a source of embarrassment, the task allowed her to brave the attention directed at her. What is so… interesting? Everything, really. She has the finesse of a musician.
The tea was steeped and poured into two cups. She handed one to Pinne with one too many sugar cubes and a, “Here you are. I hope you like it.” Although she apologized for the accidental saccharine taste, Pinne complimented it, “I like sweet things,” and that evolved into a proper conversation…
Pinne would look at her with those wide, mesmerized eyes, which she did with everyone, right?
Likewise, before her mask reaffirmed itself, Dorothy let her eyes soften. Soft? She has never been soft. That is, until she met her.
…As it concluded, Dorothy relieved Pinne of her cup, then, at her request, smoothed the blanket over her.
Only once she was done fussing unnecessarily with the folds until they were perfect did she sit in an adjacent chair.
It merely is a kind gesture that friends (occasionally?) do to cheer up the sick. Ah, but of course, Pinne had to comment.
“Worried about my ‘wild’ side tryna ‘drive off’, eh? Heheh…”
“Er… no? Stay there for now.”
Oops. “…Hrr, hehheh. Okay! Thanks again, Dor’thy.”
Dorothy bowed at the gratitude but blanked at the lisp and the thumbs-up, and, as Pinne hummed to herself and entered dormancy, she waved her good nap with a half-smile. …She, too, would like someone to sit next to her and hum her a song to help her fall asleep… In a way, it is admirable how Pinne can achieve repose anytime.
This lack of tension built up Dorothy’s own weariness. She balked at whether to hold her hand… reassuringly?
That is what she hates: not being able to control other people’s reactions.
So, to that extent, she simply existed in the room with Pinne.
Dorothy would finish her cup and pour them another hot cupful.
After drinking, her pinky finger lowered, and she set the tea cup on a saucer plate on the table. She could stay awake, even as the “medical” apparatuses called to her. They discomfit her. Despite that, she resigned to also connecting cables in herself, in her three dorsal charging ports.
Now what? Fine, she busied herself with adjusting the ribbon over her ruffled choker or scrabbling its diamond with her manicure. In reality, she fled boredom. Whenever she contemplated the handholding, she would bite her hands; when hers neared that gloved hand, her fingers curled.
Could she demur any longer?
The solution was to read the book. Reading aloud isn’t like her. Maybe Pinne hears her.
…
In its ticking haze, the wall clock denoted the page flips. During the occasional passing of the “night-shift nurse,” Rapunzel, Dorothy professed positivity and sighed inwardly.
She restyled her hair. Rainbow dots floated outside her glitching vision. It’s fine. Even if her skin felt too tight. Or her nerves misfired.
THE BRAIN-SPLITTING BREAKDOWN CAN WAIT. She crossed her legs to remain stationary.
Yet now and then, the words blurred so that her stare lifted to regard Pinne.
It lingered for two fake heartbeats longer than necessary before returning to her book.
The night advanced. Darkness skulked. Dorothy, though lulled, resolved to remain vigilant.
The tea was lukewarm then, and she drank it, still waiting for the time she would reheat it to share.
She remembers how Pinne cried earlier, after the rescue, about the pain and how weak she was.
It hurts. Pinne doesn’t need anyone; if Dorothy was stronger, she could have been there right when she needed it…
“Dor-th-hy? A- I, hhhhnm… ahhhnmm…”
“Hey, hey. Focus on me, Pinne. Mh, breathe in… then out… Snn… nhh…”
“Snnffff… nnmmh…”
“Well done. Like that.” I’m so proud of you.
…At least her Precious Wings is recovering now.
Every so often, a machine beep indicated that Pinne is indeed repairing. Dorothy smiled.
Mm! She righted her posture, leaning towards her without realizing it.
With her so close yet so far, it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep her mask.
Nonetheless, propriety reasserted itself. She exercised restraint and instead let a word absolve her: later.
Thus, she raised and lowered the saucer plate and teacup for a distracting sip.
So if she held it in, swallowed it, then maybe things would work out…
Pinne was going to get well soon, and everything would return to normal. The tea was cold.
…The cup clattered. Dorothy slouched in her seat, fisting her hands between her thighs.
“Hhhnn…” The heeled boot clicked with each bounce of her leg.
…But a tiny voice nagged at her.
Dorothy endeavours… wants… needs to broach her interest, even if illicit. Pinne, I need to talk to you. Please. Can we talk, just for a little while?
What! I would have been upset that you do not answer, but I only want you to look at me. Look at me. Look at me. Look at me. Look at me. LISTEN.
Yet, she was wordless… breathless. She took one, then another, until the shudder subsided but before hyperventilating.
Then, she gave in… only to panic and withdraw her hand from near hers. She babbled apologetically, but whether to compensate for overstepping her boundaries or to chastise herself for her idiocy, she is certain it was all three. Something spasmed when Pinne did not react. Of course.
She is asleep, oblivious to the unutterable confession of a girl who has never known love in any truthful capacity before she entered her life.
Dorothy supervised Pinne for a little while longer before retiring with her bedding somewhere else than the barracks. She was unwilling to let anyone see her do that. She could no longer ward off the despair. As she had on all those other nights, she cried in her pillow because her desire overwhelms her.
Because every time they see each other, she fails to say, I missed you.
Maybe next time.