Our Lady of Blades has an impeccably refined posture. It speaks words without her having to part her lips and say it: credence and principle define her. She does not know, entirely, how she's gotten here— 2B only knows that she has a job, and is not a leader. She serves one. She takes orders, and she completes them with precision. Part of that was hardwiring— the rest was desire, and pleasure in doing so. This way, her pledge remains intact.
2B's sights on the curious act of braiding hair (she's never seen this before, never thought of it, and now considers, absentmindedly: should she cut her hair shorter? What a pointless thought.) come to a swift halt when her attention is requested by Woe. It is dropped to her, effortlessly and immediately.
"All are functioning as intended," and a touch lower, no more than the whisp of a balming breeze: "I made sure."
She did check them all herself, put to the test and strengthened if necessary, down to the exact specs Woe has requested. If it could withstand the android, then they were safe— she'll make that a certainty. She's made it one.
no subject
2B's sights on the curious act of braiding hair (she's never seen this before, never thought of it, and now considers, absentmindedly: should she cut her hair shorter? What a pointless thought.) come to a swift halt when her attention is requested by Woe. It is dropped to her, effortlessly and immediately.
"All are functioning as intended," and a touch lower, no more than the whisp of a balming breeze: "I made sure."
She did check them all herself, put to the test and strengthened if necessary, down to the exact specs Woe has requested. If it could withstand the android, then they were safe— she'll make that a certainty. She's made it one.