Chapter Text
Tools clutched in her hands as makeshift drumsticks, Ruby did her best to follow along to the rhythm blasting from her headphones. She'd gotten a part shipped in for Crescent Rose, and it had been nearly a week since she'd done maintenance on the poor thing. With all the preparation the team had been doing for the tournament, it was important to keep the weapon in top form.
And that usually resulted in Ruby spending hours at a time raking over things with as fine-toothed a comb as she could at a workbench (because apparently using the desk in her room was "disgusting" and "a safety hazard" according to Weiss, even though one of their beds was literally tied to the ceiling with rope).
After cycling out the old part, she'd run it through a basic and advanced practice routine before coming back to do more thorough maintenance of everything to keep it the well-oiled murder machine she'd designed it to be. Which usually took a fair amount of time, she would be the first to admit, and as such seeing students come and go from the workshop was something she was well accustomed to. That was one of the reasons she brought her headphones anyways, so no one could distract her. Protecting her ears too, sure, but with how loud she turned her music up it might've been a moot point.
Ruby loved weapons, especially her own. As such, it was easy for her to find smaller and smaller "problems" to fix in order to prolong her time spent working. It was always satisfying to see the machine she'd put sweat, tears, and more than a couple drops of her own blood into work as efficiently as she made it. But that meant late nights agonizing over the diameter of a gear or how many teeth it had. It meant shaving miniscule amounts of time off of something already far faster than anything else in its class and a majority of the things outside of it.
That tendency for finding incredibly small details that stole away hours of her life went hand-in-hand with her tendency to get swept up in the more exciting moments in her music, typically resulting in air guitar solos or drum fills with wrenches on the edge of the workbench. As such, she would go from finding a problem to fix to a performance to music only she could hear, back to that problem until another part of a song grabbed her attention enough to get her to play along with it as best she could using whatever was lying around.
The shop had long been left for her use only, the last student had left a few hours ago at this point if she had to guess. Which made it all the more surprising and (mildly) terrifying when something grabbed onto her shoulder.
Whipping around, she immediately leaned into a defensive stance, wielding the tools in her hands as threateningly as possible. Her somewhat crazed eyes finally caught up with her reflex, settling on Pyrrha. The taller student was wearing her pajamas, sleep mask resting on her forehead. She looked tired, not like she'd been woken up but more like she hadn't been able to get to sleep yet.
Ruby relaxed with an awkward laugh, pulling her headphones off and setting the tools on the workbench behind her, "Hey Pyrrha, what's up?"
"Ruby, it's nearly two in the morning. Shouldn't you be in bed?"
"I'm almost done, I promise. It's just that I know I can shave off some of my time if I can just rework some of these gears and-"
"And stop playing the drums?"
Ruby blushed slightly. So Pyrrha had seen that, no big deal, "I guess I got a little carried away with my music. Happens some times, especially when I've been in here for a long time."
Pyrrha smiled at her, a gentle, sleepy tilt to her lips, "It's alright Ruby. I can understand how music can grab one's attention. Especially during something as menial as weapon maintenance. Besides, it was kind of cute."
Her blush grew more intense. So Pyrrha thought her wrench drums were cute, so what?
"If you thought my drums were good you should see my guitar," she blurted before she could stop herself. Immediately she mentally slapped a hand to her forehead, before Pyrrha's laughter reached her ears.
"Maybe another time," the redhead told her, fighting off a yawn, "But for now, I think it's time we both go to bed. I'm sure you've done more than enough maintenance for one day."
"Alright," she sighed, struggling to keep up a pout, "Only because you said so. And because you thought my air drums were cute."
"You should see some of the instruments I play when I'm giving my weapons a tune-up."
"I might just take you up on that," Ruby answered as she turned around to quickly reassemble and then fold up her sniper-scythe.
"I can't speak for how I look playing them however," Pyrrha continued, "I don't know if I listen to anything that invokes that much movement."
"Pssh, as if you'd look bad playing a fake instrument," she scoffed, hitching the packed away weapon to her belt, "I'm sure you look better doing it than I do. You're you for crying out loud."
"It's hardly a contest, Ruby," she scolded good-naturedly, "Though I don't think it's one I see myself winning."
"Uh huh," the shorter girl rolled her eyes, and when she looked at Pyrrha she could swear for a moment she saw the hint of a blush, but she quickly dismissed the thought as absurd, "You'll have to show me some of your music sometime. Maybe we can do a concert."
"That sounds wonderful Ruby."