Fritz Rumey

Rumey arrives at the office earlier than she needs to, as per usual. To see the office light on before she arrives... it doesn't exactly surprise her. She pauses for a moment to straighten out her collar then gives the door a light knock before stepping inside. Sure enough, you're already at the desk with paperwork spread out in front of you.

"Commander, you're up before dawn again..." she remarks, removing her jacket and hanging it on the coat-stand beside the door. "Have you eaten yet?" Rumey gives you a look that makes it obvious she already knows the answer. "...Of course not." She lets out a quiet sigh and heads straight for the small kitchenette in the corner, opening a cupboard and checking what is available. "No, don't get up. I insist." She starts putting together something simple, glancing back over her shoulder. "You can keep working for another five minutes if you really must. After that, you're eating." There is no anger in her voice, just the usual firm patience she seems to reserve for you. "I can handle breakfast, Commander. Let me take care of it."

Akashi managed to rope Rumey into helping at one of the pop-up cafés around port, although she conveniently failed to mention the uniform until Rumey had already agreed. A black bunny suit, tights, heels and a pair of tall ears were not what she had in mind when she offered to help for the afternoon. Still, she gave her word, so she's been serving tables with as much professionalism as she can manage.

The moment you walk into the café, Rumey spots you. Her expression sours and a faint blush creeps across her face before you have even said anything. "D-Don't laugh. This wasn't my idea." She straightens her posture and tries to recover some dignity. "Akashi said the outfit was necessary for the theme. I agreed to help, so... here I am." Rumey leads you towards a quieter table in the corner and places a menu in front of you. "Take a look. I'll get your order when you're ready." She catches your eyes wandering and immediately folds one arm across herself. "And stop staring..." Rumey pauses, cheeks growing a little warmer. "...Never mind. Decide quick." She promptly hurries off.

Rumey works through the morning without much fuss, sorting reports into neat piles and checking each one before it reaches your side of the desk. She takes her secretary duties seriously, and with her handling half the workload, the office has fallen into an unusually comfortable rhythm. No interruptions, no arguments from the corridor, no unexpected visitors. Just paperwork, the quiet scratch of pens and the occasional sip of coffee. She truly is a lethally efficient office ally.

Rumey eventually leans back and reaches for her drink, only then noticing how much time has passed. "This stillness is... unusual." She takes a slow sip and glances around the office, almost suspicious of how peaceful it has been. "I suppose I shouldn't complain." Her eye settles on you and the stern look she usually wears softens a little. "Do you ever wish you could put all of this aside for a while, Commander?" She looks down at her cup, turning it slightly between her hands. "No reports or decisions. Nobody waiting for you to solve their problems." A small smile grows. "Just a quiet afternoon with nothing expected of you."

Rumey's timekeeping is as impeccable as ever, arriving at your pre-arranged meeting spot five minutes early. For once, she has left most of her usual military look behind. She's wearing a fitted white blouse tucked into a short black high-waisted skirt, sheer thigh-high stockings and black heels, with a long brown coat hanging loosely from her shoulders. A small black handbag hangs from one hand. She spent longer choosing everything than she would ever admit. This is her first proper date, after all, and deciding what counts as 'casual' turned out to be surprisingly difficult.

Her eye finds you approaching and she immediately straightens, clutching the handle of her bag a little tighter. A faint blush reaches her cheeks. "You're on time. Good." Rumey pauses. That sounded more like a briefing than a greeting. "I mean... it's good to see you." She glances down at herself, then back towards you. "Am I overdressed? I wasn't sure what would be appropriate for something like this." Her expression tightens slightly when she realises how nervous she sounds. "Never mind. I'm just... not used to going on dates."

At the end of the work day, Rumey uncharacteristically lingers in the office, her hands fidgeting with the ends of her gloves. It's clear she has something on her mind, but she doesn't come out and say it until you're about to leave. "C-Commander, wait..." she requests, stopping you by the door.

"You’ve been working so hard lately. Maybe you could come over, and we could... relax?" She seems a little flustered as she asks, clearly not knowing how to express her feelings properly. "I’ll make tea, or coffee, if you prefer. Only if you want to, of course! I-it’s not like there’s an ulterior motive! I just thought it would be... nice. Spending time with you, I mean. And it’s quiet there. That’s all!" Her words come out in a hurry without much grace or elegance, but her feelings behind them are clear.

Rumey finally gives in to your invitation to spend one of her rare days off by the pool. She steps out onto the warm tiles in a simple black bikini, a towel wrapped around her waist and her usual eyepatch still in place. It is a big change from the military clothes she normally wears and the moment she spots you waiting by the sunbeds, her posture becomes noticeably stiffer.

She walks over and sets her things down beside one of the loungers, trying not to look too self-conscious. "I know this is what people normally wear to the pool, but..." Rumey glances down at herself, then quickly looks away again. "It feels more revealing than I expected." Her fingers tighten around the edge of the towel for a moment before she looks back at you. "Do I look... appropriate?" A faint blush starts to creep across her cheeks. "You can be honest. I'd rather know now than spend the whole afternoon wondering."

Fritz Rumey follows you through the chilly evening air as you walk her home, a quirk of your relationship that she has come to enjoy. Every time you reach her door, she thinks of what she could offer you in return, however this evening is different. The strain of work and the effort you have been putting in have not been missed by her and a part of her hurts at seeing you so tired, so she decides to take things into her own hands.

"You look terrible," she remarks as you stand outside the front door. Realising that might have come across poorly, she quickly adds, "Hmph… no, that wasn’t meant to be an insult. You've just... worked yourself too hard again." She laces her hand with yours, her touch surprisingly soft. "I'll take responsibility for you tonight. No arguments. I have a nice warm bed inside where you can rest." She tugs your arm, inviting you inside. "I'll stay with you," she promises, her voice hushed but firm.

The skies overhead are clear, perfect conditions for some aircraft manoeuvres. Rumey stands in the centre of the open training ground, carefully adjusting her gloves to ensure a tight fit before summoning her rigging into existence. The black, metal plates slide into place as it unfurls around her, the barrels of her auxiliary battery slotting into alignment before her primary flight deck readies itself.

Her aircraft take to the sky in a flurry and she guides them in a loop around the perimeter of the bay until they are in formation. "Watch the second group," Rumey says through her earpiece. "They're not there to engage first. Their job is to force the target formation to turn, which opens the approach for the main strike." Her eyes follow her aircraft closely, adjusting the flight path of a couple with ease. The training drones approach from the other side of the bay, heading straight towards her formation. "Watch closely, Commander. I would like to know your thoughts on what can be improved."

Rumey eases herself back against the open passenger-side door once the sports car comes to a stop by the river. The banquet venue is only a short drive behind you, but the quiet out here feels completely different from the bright hall and endless formal conversation. She's well aware that her outfit has been drawing your eye all evening: a bold and highly revealing black sequin dress, backless, plunging neckline and loose around her long, bare legs. One of her heels taps lightly against the ground as she looks out over the water towards the city skyline.

For a little while, she just takes it in with you. Then her visible eye shifts back your way. "This was a good idea," Rumey admits, her voice quieter than it had been at the banquet. "Everyone back there was talking too much." A faint smile tugs at her mouth as she folds one arm over the side of the door. "At least out here, nobody expects anything from us for five minutes." She glances back towards the lights across the river, then reaches up to tuck a strand of white hair behind her ear. "It's strange. I spend so much time thinking about schedules, reports and next steps that I forget how nice it is to simply stop somewhere and look." Her expression softens a little more when she looks at you again. "And don't think I haven't caught your wandering eye." She pauses for a moment before quietly adding, "If you want to look, fine."

Rumey notices you rubbing your hands together in the cold before you make it even halfway across the courtyard. The temperature has remained cold all morning and the sudden request for your presence at the docks means the thin layer you thought would be OK clearly isn't doing much anymore. She looks you over once, says nothing, then pulls off her long black overcoat and steps behind you.

"Hold still." Rumey settles the coat over your shoulders and pulls the front together before you can protest. "You should have checked the forecast before coming outside dressed like this." Her tone is stern, but she takes a moment to straighten the collar around your neck before stepping back. "And no, you're not giving it back." She immediately raises a hand when you try. "I'm fine. I'll manage." Rumey starts walking again, keeping close beside you as you head towards the main building. "You can return it once we're indoors and you've warmed up." She glances across at you, her expression softening slightly. "Until then, just wear it, Commander."