Wrath, in Metric (Tanya Degurechaff)
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| Wrath, in Metric (Tanya Degurechaff) | |
|---|---|
| Date of Cutscene: | 24 October 2017 |
| Location: | The Paris Garrison |
| Synopsis: | Being X has bone to pick with his favorite chewtoy over recent, ungulate developments. |
| Cast of Characters: | {{{Cast of Characters}}} |
The Paris Garrison, late evening. Many of the soldiers have retired to their barracks, with only a handful milling about the canteen. Guards patrol their normal routes, on the watch for any uppity citizenry. In the distance, the siren winds up to sound curfew, and a squadron of men march out through the gate into the city streets to enforce it.
"I need your connections in Berun," Tanya Degurechaff comments, walking alongside a taller, brown-haired woman, "Specifically, your tailor friend on the east side."
"Ah? Trude?" Viktoria Serebryakov tips her head back, eyes on the sky, "I haven't spoken with her in a while! But I'm sure she'd listen to a request from you, Major."
"Good," Tanya holds up an envelope, thick with papers, "I require four uniforms to be sewn to these measurements. Precisely these measurements."
There's no response. Tanya glances aside, and discovers Viktoria isn't there. She turns further, spotting the woman a few paces back, frozen mid-step. Blue eyes wander the courtyard, observing the other soldiers, similarly locked in place. Her head dips, eyes narrowing.
"Being X."
"Some day," Viktoria's mouth moves, but the words are not hers, "You will speak to me with the reverence I ask of you."
"What do you want now?" Tanya's eyes remain narrow, darting aside when one of the nearby soldiers starts acting as the Being's mouthpiece.
"What have you done?" "To bring something like that into the equation." "A creature not of this world." "Magic not of this world."
"Oh?" Tanya straightens her posture, eyes turning back to the frozen Serebyrakov, "Are you upset about him? You're here to accuse /me/ of cheating?" Turning, she squares off to the woman, "Because that's the last thing I want to hear from /you/, Being X."
The voice goes silent.
"You claim non-interference, but you've interfered countless times, haven't you?" Tanya lifts a hand, "Don't think I didn't notice that Entente mage's eyes at Normandy. You're so frustrated that I'm winning your wager that you've resorted to cheating. And now you're here to call me out on an entirely benign recruitment of allies when you've told me to my face how you've manipulated this entire world into wanting my head?"
"Well?" Tanya leans forward, her face splitting into a nasty grin, "Have I suitably illuminated your hypocrisy, or should I continue?"
"The creature will remain." A voice responds to the right. "As my challenge remains. Do everything you can to live a long life. Or this will be your final reincarnation."
Time resumes.
Viktoria Serebryakov lets out a shout of surprise, throwing up her hands upon discovering Tanya so close to her. She recovers, letting out a nervous laugh, "W-wow, that shocked me..!"
With an incredulous look, Tanya shoves the envelope into her subordinate's hands, "I need four uniforms sewn to these measurements. Please deliver this request to your friend in Berun, the tailor. Tell her money will not be an issue." Without waiting for a response, the small officer turns on her heel and steps off, tension filling her every movement.
"Ah..." Serebryakov hesitates, then opens the envelope and pulls out one of the pages. Her eyes widen, glancing up after the Major, "...Th-/these/ measurements..?"
