Chapter Text
“Heeeey McQueen!”
Gold Ship’s voice inspires terror in most everyone. Especially when it overshadows all other conversation in the cafeteria.
Almost immediately McQueen wants to just vanish. The earth shall swallow her whole so she can escapes this dreadful fate. Of course, within a mere second Gold Ship has found her.
With speed that isn’t even allowed indoor she approaches.
“Oh McQueeeeeen!!!”
The troublemaker comes to a halt with one of the broadest grins McQueen has seen in some time. Whatever this is, it’s going to derail her entire day, isn’t it?
“Look what I found!” Contrary to expectation though, Goldship presents a drawing. A drawing of McQueen. Her purple hair and features are unmistakable, but in this one she wears a long flowing gown. A tiny crown sits on her head, wrapped around her left ear.
Picture McQueen is posed to look into the distance, with the cold indifference of an actual Royal.
Both the beauty of it and the surprising existence of it baffle the purple haired Uma so badly, she just stares.
“…I didn’t know you could draw?” She asks, quietly. Hesitantly. Some part of her has to admit that if this is some kind of gift for her, she is flattered. Even if the twenty or so pairs of eyes that rest on the two of them don’t really make it easy to show.
“Huh?!? Me? Draw? Ridiculous! No, didn’t you listen, I found it!” Gold Ships antics continue to draw a few more eyes.
And there goes all flattery, gone in the blink of an eye. She’s just trying to embarrass her, that’s all she’s doing? Though, pretending to know what Gold Ships intention are at any given time itself is a futile task, that McQueen has yet to get right once.
“You like it?” Gold Ship holds it in front of McQueens face, as though she would otherwise need glasses.
“…no. It’s a ridiculous getup, I would never wear such a thing. Besides, crowns don’t suit me.”
“Paaah, no fun.”
The vandal on two legs just sort of tosses the picture on the table before McQueen, and heads off, rushing away again. Some poor teacher rushes after her, yelling something about indoor racing and how it’s not allowed.
Luckily, as McQueen continues to eat her salad, attention slowly dwindles again. Sure, the picture is still there for everyone to see, but at least no one is actually paying attention to her anymore.
So no one notices that she rolls it up and hides it under her tracksuit on the way back to her dorm.
It’s only when she is sure that the door is closed (she wishes for not the first time she was allowed to lock it) that she again takes out the picture. Her fingers trail along the edges, when to her own surprise she notices texture.
This isn’t just some printout, this is actual art someone made. The imprints of the pen, the lines that the pencil left, she can feel it all.
If Gold Ship didn’t make it, and truthfully she never would, then who did? Why?
It very much is pretty. This is the McQueen she always wanted to be. The ideal version of her.
It’s like someone took the image of her ideal self image, dragged it out of her mind and made it real. It’s uncanny. The perfect Mejiro, put on a thin piece of paper.
Digital’s day has been remarkably unremarkable.
She hasn’t seen anyone whisper any secrets. She hasn’t spied anyone staring into each others eyes. No, not even as much as accidental hand holding, or two Uma bumping into each other. Today’s material is dry and useless.
She’s about ready to call it a day, and just crawl into bed. Maybe she’ll work away on some of the pieces she already started. There are a scary amount of them still unfinished after all.
Once she stands in front of her desk, she begins deliberating. Going through unfinished pieces. Slowly motivation does come back, seeing all those pretty little ideas she’s had.
Yes, she’s going to draw.
At least she was going to, until she notices the absence of one particular piece.
Hadn’t she finished it? Had she put it in the wrong pile? Had it… slid off the table?
No. Nothing under her desk.
“Looking for something?” Tachyon murmurs, just loud enough to be audible.
Digital almost hits her head, quick as she comes back up.
The mad woman is wrapped in blankets, sat on her side of the room. So hidden in the corner that Digital didn’t even notice her upon first coming into their shared dorm room. In her hands a book whose title Digital is pretty sure she doesn’t want to actually read, or she might again fear for her morning drink.
Still- to be addressed by an Uma!
First of course she has to calm herself down, before she can answer. A few deep breaths do the trick. Though, her furious search has still left Digital breathless. “Mmmh— yes. I mean…” she could never admit what it is she’s actually looking for. No one can know that she’s been watching McQueen for days now, to get the picture right. “Not at all actually. Never mind. Oh look! I found it.”
She holds up whatever random half finished piece was on top of the pile. This one a piece of El Condor Pasa as she imagined her under the mask. Probably not a good idea to show that off either.
Tachyon looks up, her signature smirk tugging at her lips. “Oh, right. Gold Ship was here earlier. She agreed to take something of mine if I just handed her something to embarrass McQueen with. I couldn’t even say no, before she took something of yours.”
Her indifference shines through in her flat tone.
In short order Digital has three distinct thoughts.
One: Another Uma was in here and she didn’t even know??
Two: Gold Ship, how dare she rummage through her things!
Three: McQueen has now seen that drawing of herself.
The first two are immediately forgotten in favor of the third.
“No… It… no…”
Panic settles in. Now it all depends on whether Gold Ship actually told McQueen who made it. Normally Digital keeps all her work Anonymous. She never signs it. She only posts it on accounts she knows no one can trace back to her. Tachyon naturally let herself be bribed to never tell, even if Digital had to walk around with pink glowing ears for a week.
Still, this could be a huge disaster!
It could mean her identity is uncovered!
What to do? What to do? What even can she do? If McQueen doesn’t know and she asks for it back, then all hell breaks loose. But if she doesn’t act-
It all gets too much.
Before Tachyon can even ask a question, or wonder what’s going on, Digital has already fled the dorm.
Though, the scientist just quietly smirks to herself, as usual finding herself amused by her roommates antics.
Eventually Digital runs herself to exhaustion, and ends up in front of a particular tree stump. The one that she has many times observed others scream their frustrations inside.
It’s not a bad idea, though when she leans her head in, to do the exact same thing, only a high pitched screech escapes her. No other thoughts, no other words.
Finally, her energy is spent. She just sits there, leaned against that little tree stump, wailing in despair.
She just has to lay low. McQueen is a tactician. A royal. She’ll want something from her. Yes. She only has to wait for the Queen herself to approach her and make her demands know. Agnes is ready to follow every demand placed on her if it keeps her safe.
Slowly but surely she returns to her dorm. Of course, she should have another picture ready, just in case the first wasn’t good enough. A peace offering.
Tachyon is still in the same spot, reading the same book. Thoroughly unimpressed and very much used to digitals chaos by now.
McQueen has been staring at the little thing for almost five minutes now, when some quick footsteps approaching her dorm suddenly break her out of her little fantasy. In a panic she scrambles to hide it, and decides to slip it into her nightstand drawer.
The steps approach, and simply continue past her door. Tip taps that get quieter again as they get further away.
Her heart is racing all of a sudden, worse than it does in the middle of an actual race.
Why is she so tense about it?
Why did she think she was getting caught with it?
Is she… guilty? No, that’s a silly thought. Why would she be guilty over liking a picture? What a strange idea.
Then she let’s go the breath she started holding the moment she heard those footsteps, and has to face that okay, maybe she feels a little guilt over liking the picture that much.
The next day her trainer notices that she’s a bit out of it, and they call off training earlier than usual, so she can get some rest.
Three days pass. Digital has finished three entire pictures of McQueen, though she is getting restless that nothing has happened. Still she is convinced this is some greater strategy. That it’ll all make sense soon.
She is in her usual corner of the classroom, where she can see everyone, and she can observe everyone else. No one bothers her here. She can just dreamily stare ahead, and notice all the notes that get passed around, all the whispers, she can drink it all in.
So she can see as McQueen, her fellow student in this class, walks down the aisle between the desks. Until she stands right next to Digital.
“Digital, righ-“
“I’ll do anything!” She blurts the words out, not very strategy like. Panic has overtaken her. She didn’t actually think what it would be like to be face to face with McQueen! Oh, her perfect posture! Those ears! That perfectly combed hair and tail! Oh, she truly is perfection in person. “Anything you want!”
A deep deep sigh passes McQueen’s lips. She already tried arguing with the teacher that she’d prefer anyone else to do this assignment with. Eventually she did relent, that they can’t always avoid Agnes.
“That’s great, we were assigned-“ McQueen watches as her fellow student turns a cherry red color and then- just keels over.
The loud clatter of a chair falling over draws the attention of the entire class, as a broadly smiling Digital comes crashing onto the floor.
“This isn’t the time for jokes!” At first annoyance displays on her features. Everyone is well aware of Digital antics, and she for her part isn’t very amused by them. Always sneaking about as she does.
It’s only when there is no answer, not just that, when there is no movement, that McQueen realizes.
Digital did actually pass out.
It’s far from the first time that she has. Any Uma who has been involved with her since she joined knows she either falls over, or runs away at the mere idea that one might want to talk to her. Which at first seemed amusing. To McQueen it has become annoying. It always came across as some weird joke, and she already has Goldship to deal with.
She doesn’t have the patience to deal with two tricksters.
“…I’ll take her to the infirmary.” McQueen sighs to herself. It would look bad if she shoved that responsibility onto anyone else. Plus, it let’s her get out of the assignment, which is at least a small plus.
The nurse does not look particularly surprised that it’s digital who is once again being admitted. She seems to be a regular customer of theirs. Still, it’s their duty, they can’t really refuse her.
She’s barely tucked in, before she slowly awakens once more. “Ah- A dream. How wonderful!”
Through the dizzy eyes of a mild concussion McQueen seems to look even prettier.
McQueen just sighs to herself.
The nurse is off somewhere, getting equipment to take some vitals.
“Have you come for me?” Digital’s speech is just a hint slurred, but she seems determined to get her words out there. “I prepared you more offerings! I made you more- Please spare me. I’ll do anything.”
“…Spare you from what?” McQueen can’t deny she’s at least a tiny bit curious what this ones mind has come up with. Maybe precisely because she is already used to Gold Ship being weird around her, she’s used to play along.
“Your wrath! You must not tell the world that I am the great artist! It must stay a secret! I’ve made you more, if you just spare me that fate.”
Digital’s desperation is quite audible. Audible and loud enough that the nurse peeks around the nursery curtain to check if everything is okay. But apart from Digitals maniacal cowering under the covers, everything looks just fine.
“…My Wrath. Wait. Artist?”
The picture is still very much rummaging around in the back of her mind. It’s still very clearly present. Almost too much so.
One dot connects to the other.
This deranged student is the one who painted her? All empiric and royal and great? Her? “…That was you?”
Digital blinks herself out of her concussion induced stupor. This is in fact not a dream. But she realizes a tiny bit too late. “AaaH! Did I give myself away? You didn’t know? Oh nononnono-“ Digital hides completely under the covers now, realizing only very slowly that she’s created this entire situation for herself.
Her panic attack is interrupted by the arrival of the nurse once more. Who, by the looks of it, is already well acquainted and fed up with Digital.
Luckily for the three of them the nurse is human, and therefor does not cause Digital to pass out again as she more or less forces the blood pressure test to occur. Digital does oblige, but by the looks of it, she’s just too out of it to really pay attention to the instructions given to her. It’s hard to tell.
The entire time Digital does still silently stare at McQueen with the pity inducing glare of an adorable cat.
While McQueen finds herself, mouth agape, staring at the one before her. Her? Really? And she already made more?
Whatever the display shows, it seems impressive enough for the nurse to whistle.
“You’re staying in bed lady, your blood pressure is high enough to blow a valve.”
Still, McQueen waits until the nurse retreats once more, and it’s just the two of them to ask. “…Can I see them?”
Agnes does have the presence of mind to whisper, nonetheless with the intensity of someone trying to bargain for their life. “Of course! They’re yours! All yours! Whatever you need, just don’t tell anyone that I drew it!” There is the explanation for the high blood pressure at least.
“I… won’t tell anyone. Promise.” McQueen finds herself agreeing easier than she thought. Partially because she never would have told anyone. It’s her secret as much as it is Digitals. In a way at least.
It’s surprising to learn that the picture apparently was never meant to reach her. That it wasn’t meant to flatter her. It makes it that much more sincere.
Digital really does see her as Royalty, doesn’t she?