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Metabee/Brass minifics

Chapter Text

The yellow robot’s displeasure with the current situation was made incredibly apparent through his various grumbles and offhand comments, as he stiffly stood, head positioned at an odd angle as Ikki fiddled with his collar.

“What’s th’ point of makin’ suits for Medabots, anyway?” He frustratedly asked. “ ‘s no use if I get into a robattle-” Metabee was abruptly cut off as Ikki gave him a hard poke and told him to stop moving. From against the nearest wall, another voice piped up.

“It’s a dance, you doof. Nobody’s gonna challenge you there, and the chances we’ll run into any trouble are pretty low.” Arika explained, already clad in her formal garb. Metabee’s grunt in response sounded more than a little disappointed. Nearly a minute of near-silence followed after that as Ikki continued to try and get the collar to sit correctly.
“You’re being very patient, Metabee. It’ll only be a little longer, he’s almost done.” Brass broke the silence with her own quiet voice, surprising everyone else in the room.
“I-er.. Thanks. At leas’ one person knows this ain’t easy.” Metabee replied. Ikki suppressed a groan.

Several attempts at getting the collar to look nice later, Metabee was finally freed. He immediately attempted to stretch and was met with the suit’s limitations. For the umpteenth time that evening, he let out a groan. The four individuals certainly were an interesting-looking bunch- aside from the inherent strangeness of a clothed Medabot, Ikki had been made to fix up his hair, and neither had ever seen Arika in such a frilly dress before (Metabee had nearly burst out laughing when she stepped out of the dressing room, but a cold glare from Brass had been enough to shut him up). In fact, the only normal-looking one out of them was Brass, having seen no reason to put extra clothes on over the skirt she already had built-in.

“You look very dapper like this, please try not to mess it up too badly, alright?” Brass said with just a hint of exasperation as she once again straightened out her friend’s tuxedo. They were barely twenty minutes into the actual party and Metabee had already been fiddling with it.

“Easy for you t’ say,” came the reply. “You don’ have to wear this.” He pulled a disgusted face as he gave the sleeve another tug. Brass silently sighed. Well, if that wasn’t going to work, she might as well try a different approach.

“Please, just leave it alone for a while, okay?” She said in a softer tone. “I’ve got something to show you. C’mon.” Before her companion even had a chance to reply, she had taken him by the arm and was pulling him along, the latter complying only out of surprise and a desire to not fall over at the sudden tug.

Brass led her companion over to one side of the main room, where a small patch of the floor had been covered in hardwood. Metabee scoffed as soon as he realized what it was.

“Dancin’? Really? I can barely move, and I can’t dance all fancy-like.” He made a slight gesture at the last couple words signifying how ridiculous he thought the notion was. However, Brass was not so easily deterred.

“It’ll let you move at least a little bit, and I can teach you easily enough. It’d take your mind off the suit, right?” She pressed. Metabee actually paused to think this time, putting a finger to his chin in thought. After a short while, he made up his mind.

“... Arright. Why not? Jus’.. promise not to laugh, okay? I dunno what I’m doin’ here.” Brass offered a small smile in response and offered her hand for her friend to take.

“Comfortable or no, I think you look quite handsome dressed up.” She shyly offered. Metabee smiled confidently in response, and for a second, the getup didn’t seem all that bad.