He didn’t remember why, when, or how he’d first gotten it in his head to listen to music while practicing his knife routines. All he knew was that he enjoyed it. Donning a wireless headset and queuing up the first in the lineup for his practice routine, Fred-104 stepped out onto the practice room floor, taking a moment to enjoy the fact that he was alone in this particular room on the combat deck as he rolled his shoulders once to stretch slightly as the first few beats of the song reached him. Clad in only his armor’s bodysuit and the black BDU pants of his day-to-day kit, where most IIs would have felt most vulnerable he felt at ease. Each long note that opened the song for the first few bars was a stretch, a slight warm up as he mapped out the circle in his mind’s eye that composed the scope of his first routine, designed for multiple opponents from multiple angles. In his mind’s eye, he could picture the timer of the combat deck’s computer systems, creating and loading his hardlight opponents for the upcoming routine.
The art of war is of vital importance to the state.
Things were definitely looking up. He and Ana-001 had reconnected after what felt like an eternity (and earned themselves a renewed ban on silly string after their antics on leave). He’d found himself an ally in Christian-B122. He was finally going to be moved from the standard enlisted’s quarters where he’d been residing, moved down to the section of the living quarters where the IIs and IIIs were residing - that prospect alone was exciting, hearing the term IIs as a multiple. And Adrian… his lover and his dearest friend, hadn’t moved on after all. John-117 smiled softly to himself as he took a seat at the piano he’d managed to locate in one of the Infinity’s many rec rooms. It had taken him weeks, if not a month, of searching to finally find one more suitable to the musically inclined members of the crew, let alone one that had a piano. It had been forever, since he’d had the chance to just sit and play. The one thing that had given him a sense of comfort and escape, a little reprieve from the world, and he felt like he hadn’t played in a lifetime. He stretched his hands, wrists, shook out his fingers for a moment, before throwing caution to the wind. Who cared if it took a little to get back into it? But it didn’t. Like most people remembered how to ride a bicycle, John-117’s hands remembered the layout of the keys and how to move in tandem. Two quick scales to warm up, before he nodded quietly to himself and set into the first few bars of Für Elise.