Chapter Text
“Carl, you need to learn how to dance!” Donut announced out of nowhere as she entered the common area of our personal space. Her tail gave a swoosh that seemed part excitement and part annoyance, but mostly a whole lot of determination.
I was sitting on a couch, the magical pedicure kit in my hand, busy re-applying the buff the thing was giving me for the next 30 hours. I was usually doing it in my quarters, but ever since we received the stupid Instacots, I started to hate being there. I couldn't bear seeing my bed turning into that futuristic pod monstrosity and was avoiding my room. And so, I was doing my pedicure here, because at the end of the day I also stopped to give a fuck if somebody saw me.
Besides, it was empty in here anyway for now, save for Mordecai who once again was sitting atop the table in the dining area, stuffing himself with ice cream. Our bodyguards, Sledge and Bomo, were here too, but I doubted they were going to care either. Their attention was focused solemnly on some kind of a board game that Bautista’s sponsors sent him in one of the loot boxes. It wasn’t magical, and he had no use for it, so he left it in the guild common room. How the game made all the way to our personal space was a mystery to me.
Donut’s declaration came out of nowhere and took me by surprise. Stopping midway filing my toenails, I looked up at the cat. “What?” I asked.
“You need to learn dancing,” she repeated herself. “Well, more like we need to learn it, cause I don’t think I’m good at it either,” she proceeded to add as she jumped onto the couch, settling herself on its back rest near me.
My next question seemed to be a reasonable one. “Why?”
Donut, it appeared, didn’t share my understanding of ‘reasonable’ and rolled her eyes. “For the Masquerade, of course!” she responded in a tone that implied that I was the dumb one, while her request made absolutely perfect sense. “There’s always dancing with masquerades. I’m already going to be busy with the pet beauty pageant, but I don’t want to miss the ball either. And I want to dance with you, Carl. I think we will look nice swirling about the ballroom.”
We already knew the entire Masquerade was nothing but a trap for the top fifty players, but I couldn’t remind her about that out loud. I couldn't even hint at that. “Will we have to dance?” I asked instead, turning my head to Mordecai, hoping he was going to repudiate the notion, as it definitely wasn't something I could look forward to.
Mordecai grunted from his spot, which in his current form sounded more like a squeak. “Ah, they keep changing things around all the time, so I can’t answer that for sure,” he replied, licking some more ice-cream from the spoon that seemed almost giant for him. He was eating a lot of sugar on this floor, to the point I wanted to ask if it was normal. There was likely a simple explanation, like Pocket Kumas requiring a lot of calories to function. Like hummingbirds. Although that made the fact he never needed to use the bathroom even weirder. “It seems reasonable that they will have a ballroom dance of some kind given the context of the royal caste and all, but it’s not like somebody can force you to dance.”
“But I do want to dance!” Donut protested, sounding positively scandalized.
I sighed, knowing for a fact I was going to lose this argument no matter what. Not that I wanted to make a habit out of spoiling Donut, but I thought that after what happened at Odette's show, she deserved something going her way. I simply had a few points to make first. “Alright,” I said, nodding. “How do you even imagine this to go? It’s one thing for you to dance on Sledge’s shoulder to the upbeat music they play at the club. How will you be able to waltz, moreover with me?”
At the mention of his name Sledge raised his head from the game and looked in our direction. Donut waved at him from the couch and offered what seemed almost like a smile on her flat feline face. Sledge grinned widely at attention before returning to the board with colorful pieces on the table.
“I already thought everything though!” Donut announced, placing her paw onto her chest.
There was a tiny pop sound as she pulled something from an inventory, a plain piece of paper appearing before me on the couch. Glancing over it, I realized that the page contained a drawing of a contraption that was attachable to a human torso. Something like a small, solid step with railing and straps. In the weird apparatus was drawn an animal that I assumed was supposed to be a cat, but also could’ve been a monkey or a tiny bear. There was a crown atop of the creature’s head. It wasn't a technical drawing with measurements and list of materials, but a scribble made by somebody who wasn’t really good at drawing. Still, a pawprint was slapped in the corner of the artwork, in place of an artist's signature, as if it was some kind of masterpiece. Donut had used her scratchpad in the inventory and then somehow transferred it into a piece of paper, I realized.
“We will attach this to you, and I will stand on my hind paws, placing my front paws on your shoulders,” she explained, sounding really proud of herself.
“So, like a baby carrier?” I hummed thoughtfully, picking up the paper.
The look Donut gave me at that comparison was so mad that it was surprising a pair of Magic Missiles hadn't flown from her eyes.
“Alright,” I nodded once again, ignoring her attitude. “Even if I build it, even if it works as intended, I’m not a dancer. I haven’t waltzed once in my entire life. And we can’t exactly find a handy Youtube video to teach us.”
Donut opened her mouth, but closed it again, obviously having no solution for that particular issue. She turned to Modecai then. “Mordecai. Can we find videos somewhere?” she asked. “I have access to social boards, of course, but it’s very limited in what it tunnels. I could ask my fans to find a video and post it on one of the club forums of course...” she trailed off.
Mordecai sighed, looking over us. “If you want my opinion, I really think it’s a waste of time. You need to train and level up, not learn dancing.” Then he shook his head. “But... I know you well enough by now, my advice will fall on deaf ears. So, instead, I'm going to admit I have a decent rank in dance.”
I stared at our manager, feeling my jaw dropping in surprise. “Really?” I asked in disbelief. I couldn’t imagine Mordecai dancing, no matter the shape he took. It just seemed like something so far detached from his sphere of interests, so completely unlike him. “You can dance? As in ballroom variety?”
He rolled his eyes, which seemed much cuter than he likely intended. “Well, if my ten ranks in the skill have any say in it,” he smirked. He proceeded to get off the table, which wasn’t graceful in any shape or form. He had to first hang from its edge with his paws to reduce the length of his fall. Even after that he landed with a soft oof. The sound of it was adorable, but it didn’t make Mordecai lose his confidence. Approaching me, he raised his paws as if intending to adopt a waltzing stance.
I almost burst out laughing again. He looked exactly like the baby lemur from that scene of Madagascar. It’s been ages since I’ve seen the movie, but I was certain they even had similar sounding names.
“I... ugh,” I masked my amusement with a cough. “Not sure it will work out.”
The cute little paws fell down, and Mordecai glared. “Go build the carrier,” he told me before I managed to add something stupid. And that was the point that sent me over the edge.
***
“One, two, three. One, two, three,” Mordecai was counting from the couch, his arms crossed over his tiny furry chest. He sounded annoyed, and still a little bit upset at me, but his mood was improving. I think.
Donut was in the carrier, standing on her hind paws exactly as she intended. She wasn’t moving at all, just staring up at me from her spot, while I alone was doing all the work trying to learn the steps. More than that, the design of the contraption made it incredibly uncomfortable to hold my arms in the correct position, with one of them laying on the cat’s back, while the other was holding her paw in my hand. I was certain that if I didn’t have my enhanced constitution, my muscles would've already been burning from the strain.
“We look ridiculous," I said. The viewers gauge in the corner of my HUD was low at the moment, but it was higher than usual for when we stayed in safe rooms without loot boxes to open. I supposed people were tuning in for the comedic value of the situation. What made it even worse was that Samantha had made it somehow to the common area, rolling against all laws of physics onto the counter to watch us. The possessed sex doll head was practically cackling the entire time as she watched the picture unfold.
The only one who paid us no attention was Mongo who found a nice spot in a corner of the room to curl into a ball and have a small nap. I was envying the feathery beast, I wanted to have a normal sleep, too.
“Because the carriage you build looks like shit, Carl,” Donut complained. “It is as if you built it from garbage."
“That’s because I did build it from garbage,” I confirmed. Well, not really garbage per se, but the salvaged parts of wood and metal we’ve been collecting all over the dungeon. In all honesty, it was just a wide plank of wood with four holes in each corner. The front of it was tied to my chest, and the straps attached to its back were going around my neck. It looked like one of these hanging shelves from Walmart people were getting for their plants.
“You didn’t even put a railing around it!” She continued.
“I was trying to be quick at making it,” I retorted. It was true. As much as I wanted to pander to Donut’s wishes, I also knew we couldn’t spend too much time on this. Not when I doubted we were going to be given a chance to demonstrate the skills at the Masquerade. So, I did the best I could given the circumstances. “Besides, I've seen you jump down three times the height. It's not like you can fall down and hurt yourself.”
“It's not about that!” She continued insisting. “The railing was supposed to be a part of the design. It was decorational. And it was also supposed to be purple.”
I signed, opting out to ignore any additional complaints, focusing on the sound of Mordecai’s voice instead, trying to follow the rhythm of his counting to circle around a single spot in the center of the room. I wasn't lying when I said I wasn't a dancer. I've never been a big fan of night clubs or any other venues where I possibly needed the skill. My only other experience in this was the high school prom, and even then, neither me nor the girl that I went with did much dancing. Still, under Mordecai’s guidance, my skill went up to two.
You've gained a skill level!
Dancing Level 2
You now have a 10% less chance of stepping on your partner's feet. Wow. This is honestly the worst buff one could possibly get. We should embrace our foot-stepping endeavors instead of trying to avoid them. What a lame skill! Why do you even need something like that? For shame!
I ignored the AI’s disappointed tone, noting instead the dancing skill was a generic one rather waltz specifically. I wondered if that was by design, and I was going to be able to perform all kinds of dances after leveling up or was it this way because whatever the hell we were doing right now was difficult to classify as waltzing. Not to mention the foot stepping part was utterly useless for me and Donut, given that her feet—or paws—weren’t even on the floor where I could step on them.
As it turned out, the skill was pretty damn useless against rolling sex doll heads, too. Obviously disappointed by our performance, Samantha yawned loudly. “That’s it. Because of you I have an uncontrollable urge to go kill somebody's mother!” she said, jumping off the counter, bouncing a few times as she landed with a distinct... rubbery sound. And she began rolling towards the training room. Which was directly through us. I didn’t pay close attention to her, certain she was actually going to take a route around us instead. She didn't. Mordecai stopped counting, starting to spout something unsavory at the wandering spirit. It should’ve been a sign for me, I should've looked down, but I still made another step and tripped.
Donut hissed at my sudden dive down, towards the couch, her hind paws sliding off the wooden shelf attached to my chest. She didn’t fall. Instead, her claws pierced into the shoulders of my jacket as she attempted to hold onto me. The jacket’s enchantment didn’t allow it to be damaged, but her claws went through it and pierced my skin. Together with her strength, it was enough to deal actual damage. Not much, but in any other circumstances that would’ve been enough to get her frozen or booted out of the safe space. Thankfully, the system appeared to understand it was done on accident and Donut wasn’t penalized.
The same way I wasn’t penalized when I fell down right onto the still screaming profanities Mordecai. He took some damage as he was smushed into the couch cushions with the weight of my shoulders, but no more than I did. The entire ordeal was honestly more unsignifying than anything else.
“You know,” Donut spoke after a moment, as we managed to untangle from the couch pile. She was still rather puffed up, especially her tail. “I told you the thing needed railing from the start!” she announced triumphantly.
Either her voice or the rest of the commotion made Mongo wake up. A little disoriented, he looked around the room until his gaze stopped on the three of us. Apparently, whatever happened looked like a lot of fun for the dinosaur, and so he rushed to the couch too, jumping on top of us despite our combined pleas.