Work Text:
A year had passed.
One whole year since everything—well, almost a year since the more recent stuff, but at least one since their prom.
And yet, despite everything, the colony had been able to throw together another one of these. Any drone would have thought that after the events of the last one, the idea of another wasn’t even in the picture, but Lizzy had somehow been able to convince the WDF … with considerable threats from both her and V. How curious.
Uzi would actually be lying if she was to say she was dreading the event. Sure, she might’ve last year, but that was because of her … less than present social circle. Who the hell wanted to show up to prom alone, anyway?
With that being said, she ended up with a ‘date’ after all, even if in very, very unconventional circumstances—and a shanking to her hand on the same day.
You win some, you lose some.
She hadn’t been as excited to go with N as she’d thought she’d have been. Especially during such a low time, she should’ve jumped at the idea of having the chance to swing about with someone her whole school had been salivating over. She just … wasn’t Uzi’s type.
Sure, N was very nice (and that was great!), but she was so … different from Uzi. Uzi herself was vapid and, if anyone could think this, it was her, rather negative. She doubted that she’d be of much if any interest to N.
They’d shared a few moments that were all too intimate, but it was just a fluke within friendship. They’d never established anything beyond that, and maybe that was a good thing, Uzi reasoned. If Uzi had ever felt anything for her, it was surely a puppy crush.
V was hot, too, but she was a bit too much for Uzi to handle. Besides, she seemed to have something going on with Lizzy, anyway. Ew. Keep her.
Uzi hadn’t quite found love yet. Her history of such from before wasn’t good, either. She’d saved the world but not her own relationship status.
Dying alone was metal and cool—not pathetic.
…
Whatever.
Uzi let out a sigh, finding herself still jittery with nervousness as she adjusted the lacy straps on her dress. It was a pretty piece—long and frilly, but generally thin in volume. The dress was a dark, almost inky black overlaid with floral patterns. Beyond that, she sported her signature choker and a necklace or two—along with last year’s gloves.
Surprisingly, she’d ditched the beanie this time. Consequently, she felt absolutely naked, only adding to her apprehension.
She was a fucking God, if these things had problems they could all compact into an abnormally dense cube. A misshapen smile formed on her lips at the thought, her circuits easing.
She vented another quick puff of air, before pushing forward into the gymnasium-turned-ballroom.
Color and sound assaulted her from all directions—deep blues, purples, and specks of sparkling green and red all parading along her HUD. She weaved past a few classmates, shooting them looks of discomfort as she narrowly avoided knocking into their gross, sticky casings. Uzi shuffled along the wall, trying to find her way to the ‘punch’. There would hopefully be non performative drinks there, namely coolant. Sure, get hammered as soon as you get there, Zi. Coping mechanisms are cool.
She continued to move her way through the crowd, the condensation and moisture of everybody else’s raging fans making her uncomfortably warm. Gross. She finally reached the ‘appetizer’ table, which had batteries and circuits in a large bowl placed on it along with a performative cooler, very edible ‘fruit punch’ (what the fuck was this stuff? why did they keep bringing it every year?), and most importantly, a jug of coolant.
She grabbed one of the red solo cups beside the container, making quick work to fill it up and chug her first before going right back in for another.
The tangy sweetness rolled past her tongue into her throat, creeping its way into her circuits and slowing her processor.
A dopey smile made its way across her face, her body already more relaxed at the idea of getting a break like this. She let out a sigh, leaning on the smooth wall behind her.
As much as she wanted to stay, the loopiness in her system made her feel a little bit bolder—hell, talkative even. Hell, what were these drones up to and how could she involve herself? Uncharacteristically confident, Uzi sauntered back toward the center of the room while lifting her cup to her mouth for another swig of coolant.
Before she could sip it, though, the cup shook in her jittery hand and splattered onto the linoleum below. “Uuguhh, Shiiiiiit,” Uzi drawled in a groan, peppy demeanor fading into a duller disappointment—but she was too calm to get as angry as she usually would’ve. Uzi huffed to herself, “..Gotta get a fuckin’ paper towel now..”
Suddenly, answering her wishes, a cloth of some sort was swept over the stain before being thrown elsewhere. When she dragged her eyes from the floor to its source, she was met with beaming yellow pixels. Oh god damn it.
“Hey, buddy! I’ve been looking for you and Thad, finally caught ya,” N chirped. “Bit of a spill, huh?” she’d say lightheartedly, a small laugh within her words. Her outfit, however, was the most unexpected part of this encounter. What N sported was a long, dark dress with a white, lacy accent or two—it had vertical slits on either side of it, showing her legs and their accompanying painted-on garters. Though, what was much more baffling to Uzi was the large open space the dress had that exposed almost all of her core symbol. To make things all the … worse? Better? She also had a pair of thigh buckles and a matching studded choker. Surprisingly alternative and annoyingly attractive. Uzi’s visor flared up, and she hoped it just looked like a drunken flush.
She stumbled a step forward, tentatively meeting N’s gaze as she responded, “Urgh, well you found me and saw my screw-up, happy?”
“Always happy to see you, friend.” N’s tail swished behind her, and she smiled at Uzi’s antics, seeing through the worker’s front completely. Though, her sunny demeanor faltered when she saw the cup in the worker’s hands. Uzi’s behavior had been odd… “How many of those have you had?”
Uzi paused, as if giving it extreme thought. Her answer was wrong, but she gave it nonetheless: “L-like, two? Get off of my back, dude, it doesn’t—“
“No one on only two drinks of coolant acts like that,” N cut her off, anxiously combing through her hair with one hand that had its claws out.
Was Uzi trying to drink her troubles away? Robogod, N sure hoped not, but that didn’t mean it stopped being true. She recalled the mauve-haired drone having mentioned something like this before—saying that she could actually experience social gatherings without being hurt by whatever her peers decided to say. Perfect for things like prom. So that she could feel normal, too.
To say it disheartened N was an understatement. The disassembler parted her lips to speak, but a screeching microphone butted in before she could—both her and Uzi flinching at its shrillness.
Lizzy tapped on the microphone, spouting a few throwaways and empty threats to artificially pep up the crowd. It worked—nobody wanted to fail out of their classes.
N’s brows furrowed, her opportunity to speak snatched away in an instant. She looked around, trying to figure something else out before Uzi slipped away and gorged on more. Instinctually, N shifted closer to Uzi and loosely swept her arm in front of the worker’s torso, the act out of protection. Uzi’s eyes widened, and she struggled to quiet the thoughts in her head. Lizzy’s booming voice was almost enough to distract her. Almost.
“Okay, freaks!” the cheerleader howled. “Same old, but this time I have something a little bit more … important. You all better handle it the way it needs to be.”
N had then clocked what this would be about—more than likely, Doll. She was proved right as a mock obituary appeared on the projector behind Lizzy, jokingly flashy before she rolled her eyes and switched to a more serious display.
It was sad how Doll went. Even more so given the fact that she had so much in common with Uzi—who would’ve probably been more than happy to offer her help, if she’d been accepting of it.
Some just didn’t want to compromise.
An unfortunate outcome.
While she was certainly empathetic for the belated drone, N did not feel the same closeness and grief in the way that Lizzy and … maybe two other drones tops did. Her first priority was with Uzi.
Uzi blinked slowly, optics hardly recalibrating as she struggled to look like she cared (if she was a little bit less tipsy—since she wasn’t quite drunk—she definitely would’ve, as she did care) for the moment. Taking her distraction as the sudden gift it was, N scooped the worker to her side and charged through a few unsuspecting drones and out of the prom room. She slammed the door behind them, immediately weaving through the halls so as not to get caught by anyone who took after the two. They were likely not being tailed, but someone could’ve always been upset at the sudden exit. Hell, Lizzy probably was—and N hoped she wasn’t aware it was them and didn’t do anything about it later. And if V got involved…
Whatever, her main concern was fixing up the disheveled bot she was currently hauling in her arms.
After a while, N’s steps slowed, and her frantic sprint steadied into a quiet tread. She’d adjusted herself to hoist Uzi up by her shoulders, the worker having complained but not being able to support herself. After a while, Uzi went very, very quiet in this position. N thought that she felt so small against her chassis.
Uzi’s unit came into view, and N let out a sigh of relief as she pushed the door open and, once in her bedroom, lowered Uzi onto the bed—seated.
“I’ll talk to you in the morning, or a couple of hours from now … but whatever made you feel like you had to do that again—let’s talk about it, yeah?” N asked, her voice gentle and slow, honey to Uzi’s audial processors.
Uzi wanted to retort, deny the fact, or just shut down—but something stopped her from doing that to N. She wasn’t sure she’d ever been so close with someone else, no matter how gruff she acted.
“I—okay. It uh—it wasn’t enough to make me black out, yet. You got there before I could finish.”
“Good,” N sighed. She dropped to her knees to be at eye-level with Uzi.
It was an action of care. Uzi knew that. She wasn’t very used to that sort of treatment, yet.
Things had been really, really hard for the worker. She wasn’t sure when she was going to crack, but she had decided a sudden relapse into old habits was her main plan when attending prom that year. Ideally, no one would bat an eye, hopefully just thinking she was an especially voracious partygoer. N, of course, saw through that.
She couldn’t find it in her to be made at the disassembler.
She slowly nodded, averting her gaze. N smiled at her, and Uzi tentatively looked back at her.
As Uzi stared at the slightly out of place bangs that made up N’s shag, her creased honey eye-lights underlined with an exhaustion only those closest would spot, and her soft, sweet smile, Uzi’s core dropped—down to her feet, she was sure. Chances were, there was a flaming violet blush on her face.
It was a very pretty dress. Still was.
Oh my God I am so, so gay for her.