Scene #7903: Feed Rita Monsters

Owner	Pose
Lilian Rook	For once, the place that Lilian is for Rita isn't hard to get to. Inside a city, rather than out in a terraformed hellhole. A city that is not currently on the brink of mass violence-- partially due to her hard work and timely tackling. Down in the First Circle of the Eastern Seaboard Urban Center, the height of 'privilege and luxury' equates to the coastal downtown of a 'historic' small city that was simply never radically redesigned. Outside of some cameras, solar panels, and small utilitarian touches of that calibre, the pleasantly is simply that of a slightly rustic, if urbanly developed, seaside slice of the early twenty first century. Which, given either of their worlds, is actually quite a luxury. But it's far from the dizzying excesses Lilian probably could show her; and that doesn't even quite seem to be the point, given that her promise still includes probably more money being spent than Rita will hold at once in her life. The 'place Lilian knows' is actually just a little bit out of the way. The sort to be popular within her class, but only frequented by old familiars and spread by word of mouth, wherein girls of her age would be somewhat rare and out of place. It is unfortunately probably inevitable that anyone looking at Rita either inside or right outside will naturally assume being dragged out on a date with someone older (which is mostly true on several technicalities). An unassuming semi-modern building of several floors, clean and heavily windowed with black facades, and a gorgeous waiting area between a small nexus of stairs and corridors between a basement bar and lounge, a first floor grill and cafe, and a second floor restaurant, which is Rita's directed destination. Thankfully, she is not left to navigate completely by herself. Lilian is waiting here, and the one looking more restlessly nervous, despite this being her home turf. The way she looks around, subtly monitoring the sight lines of others, suggests to Rita that it's about what she's wearing; it's perhaps not too surprising that she'd decided not to fall back on her old ways after Rita's heartfelt praise, but it's very clear that she's never been here so 'unconservatively' before. That is to say, sleeveless and with a neckline rather than a collar, appropriate to a warm spring. She lays eyes on Rita with palpable relief. "I don't know why I was so strangely half-certain that you wouldn't come. But I'm glad you did. For a lot of reasons." Lilian greets her with deeply alleviated warmth. She turns only for a moment to address the sharply dressed hostess on duty at the front, gesturing up the stairs and simply saying 'two', apparently already being known enough that her name is not needed. When the both of them are guided upstairs, Lilian even remarks quietly, "It feels like an eternity ago since it was ten, but it really wasn't that long."
Rita Ma	Rita ducks into quiet side-streets a few times, anxiously changing her clothes in that way that only she can. This is sort of a special occasion, isn't it? But she can't quite find something to settle on. Her usual fancy-casual, with the skirt and the jacket? The aquamarine dress she wore the last time she tried to blend in with the First Circle? Something more daring, to show solidarity with Lilian's recent bent? She'd have asked Liza what the girls like, but red and gray aren't really her colors. Weirdly, in a place like this, Rita doesn't seem self-conscious or lost at all. For someone supposed to be a scruffy orphan salt-of-the-ocean girl-of-the-people, she really takes to the First Circle like a fish to water. "Ms. Rook! You're here!" Rita waves and beams with so much genuine enthusiasm you'd think it was a surprise. She's finally settled on a black bolero, black ruffled knee-length skirt with dark stockings, and a pleasantly saffron-yellow shirt; unmistakably the same 'style' as her normal outfit, but simpler, bolder, and more elegant. Her usual leather satchel has been traded for a cute, petite aquamarine handbag. The impression that she's some older person's date is only worsened by the way she girly-runs over and makes hard contact with a hug. It lasts a good three or four seconds before she's willing to let go, and even when she lets go she's looking to Lilian with a dotingly attentive expression that couldn't be interpreted very many ways. "I'm so glad I came too, Ms. Rook. Though I didn't really ever think about bailing! Of course I love getting to spend time with you." "Thank you!" she says to the hostess with a sweet little wave as they head towards the stairs. That's the one thing that mars her otherwise-adept navigation of high society: paying more attention to the service workers than she's supposed to. Once they're ascending the stairs in relative privacy: "I really loved that letter, you know. I still have it in my desk. It's really, really thoughtful of you, to take me someplace like this. I..." There's an unfinished thought in there, about how good Lilian is at acknowledging Rita's needs without making her feel uncomfortably Seen. It's left hanging and unspoken. Instead: "What was it like, when you took people here the first time? It must've been nice if this place is still special to you, right?"
Lilian Rook	Lilian reacts with more than a little surprise when Rita just hugs her then and there in the lobby. She glances around a few times to see who has turned to look (which is unfortunately a few people, who look away a little too late), but ultimately puts her arms on Rita's shoulders after a little fussing and frowning. "I wouldn't blame you. Considering the circumstances that . . . lead up to the invite. It wouldn't be extraordinary if the association was simply too negative of one." She smiles weakly. "And here I was apparently needlessly worried it was too awkward to send in writing. If it makes you happy, then I'm glad for it." The hostess looks at Rita just a tiny bit oddly, but smoothly replies with a very practiced and very white smile attached to a dazzling "You're very welcome." For some reason, that's the part Lilian seems to find amusing rather than embarrassing. "Yes, thank you very much." she thinks to add, just so that Rita isn't the only one. Service staff are sacred. The upper floor is remarkably spread out, all low mood lighting and crystal dividers, 'art deco' pieces that haven't been invented yet in 'modern' Earths and glass-faced tables. It has a strangely spirographic shape to proliferate as many booths and corners as possible around a central kitchen, the fire oven in which appears to be real, mostly lending itself to intimate settings to cater to the well-off company that inevitably frequents it. The table Lilian has for the two of them is rather small and cozy, but even then it's a bit too big for just two people, only really saved by being round and thus possible to sit closer than directly across. When the hostess departs, Lilian swipes across the glass surface and brings up a menu digitally; then pauses to really consider what Rita is asking her. "I was very new to the Multiverse. The Paladins completely. So I suppose I would be lying to say if I wasn't anxious. Of course, I'd practiced everything. I knew all the words and gestures and how to spend the money; I won everyone over to my side right away, of course. But it was . . . a chance to make a fresh start. With people who didn't know me in any way but the girl right in front of them. Even if it wasn't very personal, it was . . . it felt good, that it was just that way. That it worked. It was so . . . normal. Or as normal as those particular people could be in a room together. I really hate eating by myself, you know." A moment passes. "Do you mind if I simply order for you? It'll be easier if I do the talking and get us a grill for you to not use."
Rita Ma	"She was nice," Rita says to Lilian, meaning the hostess. Her tone is one of sweet obliviousness. "And I don't think I could ever have a 'negative association' with you, Ms. Rook! Of course I'd want to spend time with you, after... all that." 'After almost losing you', she decides not to say. The sight of the upper floor draws a soft gasp out of her; her eyes widen and she lifts up off her heels a tiny bit, as if the extra half-inch of height could help her soak in that much more detail. She gently squeezes Lilian's arm to steady herself, and is only reluctantly pulled away from her gawking to actually sit down at the table. "It's so... smoky? Sparkly? And I've never seen a room shaped like this before," she murmurs. Her voice is kept low, maybe so nobody will overhear and think she's a rube. She showed no similar self-consciousness about being considered arm candy. Rita lays her arms out on the table, palms down, and stretches her legs until she taps its underside with her feet. As she listens to Lilian, she's still soaking in the details of her surroundings (the holographic menu raptly included). When the novelty starts to wear off, though, there's still a certain quiet glowing giddiness in her demeanor. "A chance to make a fresh start," she repeats with a heavy air. "Even knowing that everybody grows and changes, I have a really hard time imagining you as anyone but exactly yourself, Ms. Rook. So I think it must have worked, if this is how you wanted people to see you. ... I guess it was sort of the same way for me, making a fresh start. Even if I couldn't keep it fresh for very long." A little pause. A little frown. Slowly, though, that melts back into her background radiation of good cheer, just a blip on the graph. Rita reaches across the table to take Lilian's hand and squeeze it, smiling. "This is really nice, Ms. Rook. I like you a lot, but we haven't gotten to just spend time together much, have we? It feels warm. Maybe it's selfish, since you're so busy, but I wanna do this more." Do you mind if I simply order for you? "No, go ahead! I'm sure you know all the best stuff, Ms. Rook." 'A grill for you to not use' fully parses a moment later; the instant of its impact can be seen in the way pink blossoms across her cheeks. "Don't just say things like that out loud!!" she says, obviously flustering. Quietly mortified: "But... thanks for thinking of me, Ms. Rook. I really appreciate you keeping that in mind." She's eager to change the topic, and seizes on one from earlier. "So what do you think about the other Paladins, Ms. Rook? I know Mr. Ishirou and Ms. Tamamo are really nice, but..." But, she doesn't finish, the others haven't treated her quite as well.
Lilian Rook	Lilian smiles oddly to Rita on the way up the stairs. "She was, wasn't she?" Something about saying that seems to be terribly amusing to her, though she isn't explaining why. The smile falters a few degrees when Rita continues. "I'm happy, at least, that it struck you that way in the end. I did wonder if perhaps I was shooting in the dark with this-- no, I suppose what I felt was that I might be attempting to buy back your care, especially in a way that would be comparatively cheap for me, but not seem that way from outside. But now that we're actually here . . ." The weird smile remains glued to her face for a little while longer.?? At the table, Liian makes a thoughtful 'is that so?' sort of noise while swiping through the menuing system. "Well, your start sort of fell through with me from the start, didn't it? But I'd like to think it's gone better than well even so. If that's how you feel about me, then maybe I'll try believing in the idea that certain people are simply capable of taking someone as they really are. Perhaps it's a property of perceptiveness? If you can take in all of what someone is quickly enough, you ultimately see mostly the same thing, but if you can only grasp a small part of them, then their context and circumstances, traits and history, fill in the blanks for you; and then they're like stains you can't quite get out, when you want to paint over them with truer knowledge." She looks up when Rita grasps her hand. A tiny bit of pink creeps into her cheeks. "Come to think of it, we haven't, have we? I wonder why it feels like I've known you forever, when we only ever seem to meet five minutes before disaster?" She laughs gently. "One of the positive sides of dealing with the most selfish person in the Multiverse is that other people can be selfish for me too, and I can't critize them for it. What's the point of being self-conscious when I'm your company, no~?" "I think, maybe, I need to do more of this as well. I knew already that only working, without any relaxation or leisure, would render me too brittle to function. Everyone smart knows that. But I suppose there may be a layer to it I hadn't considered. A certain, specific type of brittleness, that comes from a certain, specific lack." Lilian laughs much more freely at Rita's embarrassment. Despite her tender sincerity, she is a bully at heart. "Oh don't worry about it. You see, I'm very clever; rich people here believe that eating their food unconvenientionally is a sign of high class, and specifically will believe pretty much anything you tell them about foreign cuisine." With a wry and cheeky smile, she waves a server over (who actually just sidetracks immediately, being this kind of place), flashes her black card, places an order for a significant quantity of wine and asks for 'one through twenty four' from 'off-menu', and that it come with the order she just placed digitally. The server very studiously examines her license, starts saying something about legal liability, and Lilian cuts them off to repeat the second half of the sentence and assure them that she's been here before. When the server walks off again to deliver the paper notice, Lilian listens to Rita with a look of increasing curiosity. "The other Paladins? That's quite a large group. Are you just trying to spin conversation, or is there something you'd really like to know?" The corner of her lip quirks up. "And remember, no fibbing~"
Rita Ma	"Of course it doesn't seem cheap, Ms. Rook," Rita answers perkily. "Time isn't cheap for anybody. Not even you. The food is really nice, but it's spending time with you that's the most valuable part!" "Your start sort of fell through with me from the start, didn't it?" A little more solemnly, but still with good cheer, Rita answers: "I guess it did fall through. But... with most people, I'm always scared that they're going to see a part of me they haven't seen yet, and hate me for it. Because it feels like people ought to push me away, and if they haven't yet, it's only because I'm fooling them." "And I don't have to be as scared of that with you. I am still, a little bit, but... you've seen a lot of me, and you still haven't pushed me away. It's hard to make myself understand why not, but it's a comfortable thing. So thank you, Ms. Rook!" She finishes with a bravely sunny little smile. "One through twenty-four" makes her stiffen back up, eyes going wide. She doesn't dare to contradict Lilian's order, but after the server's left, she murmurs: "That's... that's a lot of food, isn't it, Ms. Rook? Are you sure we're going to be able to eat that much? Even if we have twelve each, if they're not tiny, that's..." "The other Paladins?" Rita's spine droops from her usual perky good posture. Her face rests uncomfortably in her hands; they push up her little cheeks in a deflated look. She does, briefly, consider lying and brushing it off, but then remembers Lilian would know. "It's just... I don't know what you see in most of them. Is it a place that you're happy being part of? Do you feel like you belong? Except for Ms. Tamamo and Mr. Ishirou, all the other Paladins I've met have seemed awful. Is there a side to them I haven't seen yet? Or is there something about the Paladins that makes it worth staying, even though a lot of them are bad?" "... I'm sorry. This isn't good dinnertime conversation. We can talk about something happier, if you want to. Like your outfits! I think you look really pretty tonight, Ms. Rook. It's sort of an act of bravery to wear that out 'on the town', right? But it really does suit you a lot better."
Lilian Rook	Lilian looks at Rita with evident surprise for a change; and at such a ready 'of course' too. "I want to argue with that. Because of course I sort of have more time than anyone else. But I suppose that isn't really true. The fact that I wanted it so badly in the first place . . ." she goes on to think on it a little while longer. It seems needlessly reflective, for Rita having said something so simple and obviously true. "Ah, well, that sort of worry is normal, I think." Lilian continues on the other subject instead. "Obviously I . . . know what you mean specifically. But even for normal-- ordinary people, I'd think they're all at least a little bit aware that someone might suddenly decline to care for them should they only learn the wrong piece of information. It's half the worry that privacy is built up around, isn't it? Even if there's logically no particular need to hide it, you feel as if you can never really know. I'm certain even small people with small secrets think that way." She only grins enigmatically after the server leaves. "Oh don't worry. If we don't finish it here, we can take the rest home. And even if we didn't, they've gotten paid, right?" Conversation only lasts a few minutes before the staff are right back with exactly the drinks Lilian ordered. They don't ask for ID from Rita. It could be any number of reasons, not limited to the fact that Lilian gets and pours both bottles herself. She indicates Rita is welcome to the red she puts on the table between them, but actually hands her a glass filled with a light, sweet and clear rice wine. And then really takes her time to think about that question. "I suppose that's a natural question. You being where you are, and I being where I am. If it isn't a shock that we'd talk to each other regardless, it's perhaps a bit of a shock that we've never talked about that difference overall, no?" Lilian begins, a little cautiously. "I think it's true that . . . there are sides to many of them, that you don't usually get to see, being on the outside. I won't neglect to say so. After all, there is still no shortage of imbeciles outside the Paladins who act confused and aghast when they see me behaving normally, rather than in the context of being their direct enemy." "For the Paladins especially, I think, there is a certain expectation, and need, to not show breaks in the ranks. Keeping disagreements and conflicts internally contained, goals and dissatisfactions locked down, working together to present a flawless outer face of 'professionalism', 'justice', 'reliability', and that sort of thing. An organization like that lives and dies by such a thing. Reluctance to call on the Paladins, when people need help, because the Paladins themselves are just 'more people to deal with', costs lives. As does costing the Paladins face and funding. So it's natural that you'd only see the heel of those people from your side, most of the time."
Lilian Rook	Lilian's face falls a little bit. She starts on her wine, but it doesn't really get all that much better. "You could perhaps even say that, out of all the ways to be, that sort of 'holding rank and pretending' is the one I'm most familiar with. I wouldn't like it very much, but I'd find it hard to argue if you really wanted to assume that I was simply the most comfortable working with company that agrees personal feelings are a distant third priority, and collectively agrees that a greater stability comes first. I think that . . . in some respects, it is easier. It costs less, to do what I need to do rather than follow whatever I feel, when the people around me are also at least trying to put those aside as well. It feels . . . more fair, I suppose? There's a gentle, positive pressure to it; that everyone else is trying, so I'd like not to ruin it." "But it'd be disingenuous of me to insist that's all there is to it. You're not stupid. Even if you couldn't articulate why, I'm certain that you'd know my heart isn't in it, if I tried to forgive and defend everyone." Lilian sighs. "I can't be bothered to keep it a perfect secret that I don't get along with everyone there. Really, out of everyone there, I might actually be the one who least fits in. I've thought about more than once. About why they'll willingly accept outcomes I won't. Why they'll refuse to do things I will. Why they expect things to come to them that I've never had. Why they care so much less than me sometimes, and so much more about other things." "I . . . don't know if it's them or me. They weren't everything I expected them to be, but there's no way for me to be certain that it would really be different anywhere else. It's very probable that I just don't fit in well with anyone in particular; that my thoughts and feelings are all just 'too specific' to smoothly integrate with reality. But I don't think there's a better place for them. I don't know how long I'd be able to keep accepting the world we live in, were I anywhere else." Lilian runs out of steam for a little while there. Long enough to almost start choking down her drink at Rita's best attempts to say something nice instead. "W-well, you know, I've been here before, s-so . . . it's always a little nerve-wracking to try on a 'new look'." Her face is a tiny bit red. "And I thought it'd give you the wrong idea if I went right back to the old standbyes after . . . that."
Rita Ma	Rita takes her wine glass in both hands like it's a chalice, but looks to Lilian uncertainly- she's doing the tea magic, right?- before taking a sip. When she does, her expression warms over with marveling delight and she kicks her feet a little under the table. "Mmm! Thank you, Ms. Rook!" Rita really does have a surprisingly mature palate, despite everything else. Then she glances around self-consciously, to see how many other patrons could have line-of-sight to their table. Hesitantly: "Taking some of it home might be a good idea. It depends." On how many people are watching. She falls quiet and stills her fidgeting, next, to match Lilian's more serious tone. Rita can't entirely conceal her dubious feelings about the Paladins she dislikes having other facets, but that's submerged beneath a contemplative look when the discussion turns to the personal. "You feel different enough from everyone else that you'd have to 'squish yourself down' to fit in anywhere," Rita says at the end, "so it's easiest to fit in where everyone else is 'squishing themselves down' a little too. Is that it, Ms. Rook?" "It's definitely not like that where I am." She has the decorum not to say 'in the Watch' out loud in public- or out loud at all, even if Lilian has repeatedly inferred it. "Everyone else is being their truest self all the time. It's where people go when they don't want to compromise, so of course that'd be how it is." Rita stares down at a cloth napkin, twisting it between her fingers. "But I feel like, because of that... well, it's kind of hard to say." She tugs on the napkin thoughtlessly, with what doesn't seem like very much force at all, and catches herself cold when a few of the threads audibly fray. With a guilty start: "Um. I guess being around 'heroes' like that has always made me feel safe. Part of me is always a little scared that I must be tricking them, somehow. But the rest of me feels like, if even they're okay with me, maybe I'm not so bad?" Lilian, by Rita's bittersweet smile as she looks up, is clearly included in 'heroes'. Then Lilian sputters at the compliment, and Rita laughs and leans forward with sparkling eyes. "I forgot how pretty you are when your face turns red, Ms. Rook," she says with a terrifying innocence. "But being less 'uptight' with your clothes really does suit you better. It reminds me of someone I like a lot." In a quiet moment, Rita starts poking the table with her finger while waiting for the food. Without looking up: "Ms. Rook? How do you feel about the Antegent? Would you say you 'hate' them, or is it something else?"
Lilian Rook	'Taking some of it home might be a good idea. It depends.' Lilian gets to keep her gently smug little smile for a few more moments. She waves her finger a little bit to draw Rita's attention back. "Stop triple and quadruple checking. Nobody came all the way out here to watch strangers eat. Packing some for home is perfectly typical. It'll be just fine, alright?" Indeed, it's actually very difficult to get line of sight on any other patrons without the mood lighting and fancy glass making it impossible to really discern what they're up to, and the kitchen artfully blocks direct-across views. The designer knew what they were doing. 'You feel different enough from everyone else that you'd have to 'squish yourself down' to fit in anywhere...' Lilian handily loses her footing as the experienced one, comfortably in her element. The way she shifts, as if leaning off of a sprain, is enough for Rita to know that she got her, more quickly, easily, and directly than Lilian would have liked. "You could put it like that, yes." she says, with professionally held discomfort. "Rather, it's easiest to want to. Fitting in is trivial in of itself; people are easy to predict and even easier to please if all you want is to blend with them. I've just always struggled with the arithmetic of it, I suppose. Which parts of myself are worth what, and how much I should insist on selling them out for, gauged against whatever value that social unity it has; that's the one sort of economics I'd say I'm not particularly good at applying." Lilian sinks deeply into her seat. "You could even say that the Paladins primarily work by bringing together Elites who will pay some of themselves into a collective account, so that everyone can withdraw from it when they need. By trading away the parts that I have to 'squish down', I can call on all the good parts of other people that I don't have, represented in that title of 'Paladin'. So it feels as if it's more worth it to try." Her gaze drifts downward into her drink, a rueful little smile sneaking onto her lips. "It's fair that way. It doesn't matter how good or how bad anyone is. They get out whatever they pay in. A terrible person who tries very hard to be a better one gets more out of the name 'Paladin' than a naturally wonderful person who fits in seamlessly." "I don't get along well with people who can't compromise. People who put the entirety of themselves in front of you and demand to be called a hero . . . I end up either hating their guts or hating that I'm not more like them." 'I forgot how pretty you are when your face turns red, Ms. Rook' Lilian's painfully flustered mien sharply rises into a crimson-faced strangled squeak, then gradually falls off into polite coughing and fussy, self-conscious clothes-straightening. "I'm glad you agree." she says, clipped at first, and then less so once her eyes widen as she realizes what she just said. ". . . It's not as if I don't think it looks good. Or that I don't enjoy it. You understand."
Lilian Rook	'Ms. Rook? How do you feel about the Antegent? Would you say you 'hate' them, or is it something else?' Prior casual topics terminated, Lilian, looks to this one with her full attention. Neither shocked nor on-guard, but deeply curious, she folds her hands in front of her and leans her head just out of alignment with her laced fingers, absorbing Rita's expression over the top. "What a bizarre question. Nobody has ever asked that before. Who wouldn't hate them? They're monsters that've taken just about everything away from just about everyone. They'll kill you the instant they lay eyes on you, just for being born human. Who wouldn't hate them? If they hate all humans, then shouldn't we hate all of them too?" The way she says it has the inflection of going nowhere. Like she's repeating it out of a book. It isn't until Lilian leans forward, putting her chin on her fingers, that she sounds as if she's giving her own answer. "Up until a couple of years ago, a world full of Antegent was the only world I'd ever known. Even now, it's too normal for me. I don't feel the same sense of loss, of fear and anger and grief, as everyone older than me does; or even people my age who are orphaned or destitute because of them. Of course they're my enemy; I'm glad to kill as many as I can, wherever I can. But I've begun to suspect a long time ago that it isn't the same thing." Lilian takes in a deep breath, looks to the side, begins to formulate a sentence, and then exhales instead, looking back to Rita. "I hate them for who they turned my family into, Rita. It's their fault I grew up in that empty house. It's their fault that my aunts and uncles and cousins and grandparents were gone before I could ever meet them. It's their fault that my brother broke inside. It's their fault that my sister can't bear to spend a day with me. It's their fault that my mother won't dare care about anyone ever again. It's their fault that my father only lives for something to replace everything they took. And it's their fault that Cecilia had to carry the world by herself." "So of course I hate them. It's because of them that everything turned out this way. But that's not really the same as hating them for something they did to you, is it? I don't feel anything personal towards them. What I feel is more . . . the injustice that they exist at all. That they did everything they did and now they just . . . continue to be. That we just accepted them as reality and started taking it all out on each other." "Why? Surely you aren't about to start identifying yourself with them."
Rita Ma	"Oh, it's not..." Rita raises a hand to start to explain, then falls a little short, looking suddenly sheepish. "It's the other way around. If people aren't watching, then..." Then she'll feel less embarrassed about eating a biologically implausible amount of raw meat. The innocent admission about flusteredness makes Rita put on a characteristically, yet contextually terrifying, sunny 'mmmm!' She leans forward, face in both of her hands and eyes blissfully shut. "I'm glad you agree, Ms. Rook! I'm not sure how often I can make you happy in that way. But if you like it, I can try for a little more!" Then: "Surely you aren't about to start identifying yourself with them." "N- no! Of course not!" Rita fumbles to put her hands up, as if physically warding off the question. "I'd never- I mean, you've seen them. Do you think we're anything alike?" The question doesn't sound as rhetorical as Rita would like it to. Her hands return to her lap, followed shortly by her gaze. She deflates. "I just want to make sure that the way I feel is still a normal way to feel. About the sea monsters. About all of this, I guess." An uneasy pause. "No, I know it isn't normal. But at least still..." She struggles for words. "Visible from shore." She squeezes her hands together until the knuckles turn white. Her expression, by now, is downcast. "'Monsters that hurt people need to be killed.' I still feel that way. But my big sister really, really hates them. I'd have said that I hate them too, but the more I think about it, the less sure I am. The way I feel isn't like the way she feels. Maybe it's closer to the way you do." Rita reflects for a moment. "No. I'm sad. I'm sad at 'the injustice that they exist at all'. I wish it could be a different way. Is that good enough?" She says that like she's hoping for a passing grade on a test. She glances off to the side to look for the waiter, a little impatient for the food, and then flinches away from looking just as quickly. Guilt.
Lilian Rook	"You'll be fine." Lilian reiterates. "The special menu is all small portions to go with a more conventional meal. Really, it's the health concerns that'd kick in well before." She sounds perfectly calm about it all, but then she is the one between the two of them who actually knows what she's ordering. She laughs just a tiny bit. "Now don't start that. I'm supposed to be making you happy today, remember." 'Do you think we're anything alike?' "Obviously not." Lilian scoffs. "I just know by now that you have an atrocious habit of demonizing yourself before anyone else can hypothetically get around to it." Her voice lowers and softens slightly. "Thinking if you imagine all the horrible things everyone around you would think and say, all the time, it won't be so bad once one of them finally does." Lilian sighs. "Which is quite mad. We both know how wrong that is." Rita's second question is asked, and the plates come at exactly the right time for it, so that Rita doesn't quite have to dwell so much and Lilian has a convenient opportunity to think about it. Lilian herself has ordered something reasonably conventional, along the lines of east asian dining appropriated for rich westerners, though if Rita's culinary knowledge extends very far, she'd probably notice how much of it is dedicated to being high in iron as possible for its calorie count, with salted and grillable additions. A couple of items are already cooked or prepared in tiny portions, whilst the rest is clearly meant to be used on the fancy little grill plate that's brought out with a seasoning and dipping set and genuine teeny tiny fondue spout. The ostensible purpose of this is to bring Rita a lot of food that she's supposed to cook on her own (again, the wait staff remind her of their waived liability if she fucks it up and makes herself sick), and can therefore, not. Twenty four plates takes two trips to bring out, but as Lilian claimed, each of them is very small, and what a snob might call 'deconstructed', each one about a third to half a decent appetizer. This is clearly for reasons other than charging the most money for the least food and pure aesthetic value. Rather than cuts of tender beef or slices of palm heart like on Lilian's side, Rita gets most of the dazzling crescent of little white dishes and cups. Thin strips of naturally almost gossamer-faint 'meat' are lined up and slashed with drizzles of something strikingly blue-purple, matched with a fan of shockingly red wedges of something slightly gelatinous and what look like clipped herbal branches split and hollowed line bone marrow, all on a bed of leafy-black. Something with shell peeled half-off exposes slightly iridescent, membranous innards, possible to suck out like crab leg, while others have something ground and dried and orange dusted with pepper on a bisected and ready to be stuffed fillet of something flakey and pale violet. Lilian gets to sizzling her normal human food, only loosely pretending she's splitting the special menu with Rita.
Lilian Rook	'Is that good enough?' "Asking me for a good grade in monster hating, which is both possible to get and normal to want." Lilian says, grinning sarcastically. Focusing on her food is a handy way to decrease the visual pressure on Rita all the same. "She's much older than you. The things that have happened to her have taught her to hate in a deep and personal way. She hates them with every fibre of her being because anything else would be tantamount to accepting what the world did to her. What it took from her. I'm not all that dissimilar to her, only maybe a step removed in passion." Realistically, it should be a good hour of light eating for Lilian to get through her plates, but she seems to be magically speeding it up to draw less attention to Rita's pace, breaking it up to sip from hot soup. "I think being sad is probably healthier. You're allowed to be sad about what you never got to have. You're allowed to mourn that so many bad things happened to people who didn't deserve it, and you're allowed to empathize with the burdens they have to carry now." "Really, I suppose you just don't have a single punishing bone in your body." Lilian sighs. "Even when you want someone dead, it's not because you feel like you're getting back at them; you're only ever concerned with what they'll do in the future." A break for wine. "You just don't get the same urges Kana and I do, I think. You never seem to feel like someone, or something, has to suffer to make up for what's already been allowed to transpire." She pauses, musingly. "I suppose I could say that you don't get the same sense that God owes you for fucking it up. You feel like you owe everyone else instead. You're more like Bota in that regard, I think." "So, I think that's better than good enough. Wanting things to get better, and people to have more, is what a good person does. Wanting punishment, retribution, fairness, is for people with damage." She seems to be blandly accepting of the fact that this implicates herself as well. It's less clear whether Lilian realizes that Rita hasn't told her either Kana or Bota's names before.
Rita Ma	Rita clasps her hands in front of her chest and gasps softly when the food arrives. Her eyes are wide in amazement and sparkling with gratitude, directing it half and half to Lilian and the wait staff. When the latter remind her to be safe, she says "Don't worry! I will! Thank you!" The moment their backs are turned, she pops a piece of raw Antegent flesh in her mouth and chews with a sunny eyes-closed smile. "Mmmm. This really is good, Ms. Rook! You're the best. Yours is really iron-heavy, isn't it? Is that because you've gotten hurt?" She is a little brisk about eating, but not as ravenously piranha-like as one might assume. It's only when she gets to that hard shell that her manners crumble: Rita bites into it with a resounding crackle-crunch and swallows the jagged pieces without thinking, only afterwards glancing around nervously to see if anyone heard. (If nobody did, she eventually resumes doing it, happily bouncing her legs under the table.) After a quick pitiful objection of "A 'grade'?! No! I don't mean it like that!!", Rita settles down to soaking up Lilian's words in relative silence. They give her several things to metaphorically chew on, which takes a lot more time than the literal chewing. When Lilian gets to 'even when you want someone dead', Rita smiles an uneasy, bashful smile. "I'm not so sure it's healthy of me," she answers reluctantly. "Or that I'm a good person in the way you mean it, Ms. Rook. I think it's just... you can get mad when you lose something you deserved. And it's hard for me to believe I deserve things." "But how do you know so much about Bota and Kana, Ms. Rook? I don't remember saying that much. Have you been reading my mind again?" Her expression fogs over with something like concern- not for herself, but for Lilian. "I thought you didn't like doing that."
Lilian Rook	The tastes of otherworldly flesh are, predictably, something else. What is unpredictable is just how. Far from simply novel combinations of familiar flavours and sensations, each one is partly or mostly like sampling something Rita has never tried in her life. In the sense that salmon is different from beef and orange is different from apple, complex flavour profiles, matched with other things equally novel, and dusted and sauced and carbonized in just slightly familiar ways to provide reference, generate tastes that are as fascinating as they are generally just enjoyable. The textures are occasionally pretty weird, but Rita has had much worse. Considering the absurd difficulty of sourcing even predictable ingredients --the kind of commonly occuring, low level antegent and alien growth that are known to be safe when prepared certain ways-- and the sheer niche of the experience, there's no wonder it's absurdly expensive, rather than just for the prestige. Oddly, even the things that certainly appear to be equivalent to flora(?) sit with her just fine. And no, nobody looks. I'm not so sure it's healthy of me," she answers reluctantly.' Lilian blinks shortly by way of surprise at Rita's dietary acumen, then airily laughs it off. "Ah, of a certain ways, yes. Admittedly, I've also just had certain cravings but replacing whole blood takes a while you know. Unless your name is Arthur Lowell at least." She contemplates the rest only briefly. "Well, perhaps it's unhealthy that you can't bring yourself to get angry. But being angry doesn't mean that the sensible or constructive thing is the punitive thing. The ideal is, after all, that even when you experience anger, that you try not to harm people for the sake of it." 'But how do you know so much about Bota and Kana, Ms. Rook?' This time, Lilian waits a little while for a fillet to sizzle away on the grill plate before answering. "Very recently, one of our operations resulted in crossing paths with the Union Busan. I ran into them almost immediately. I suppose nobody from the Watch felt the need to tell you. In fact, they were about to tell those two nothing about you either. I decided differently. I thought that they should at least know that you're still alive." "I know I needn't say that they're worried. And that they care about you very much. I know that you have your own reasons for not going home. So I'm working with them, and the Union Busan, to make certain that there'll still be a home for you to go back to, when you're ready."
Rita Ma	"This is really amazing, Ms. Rook! I've never-" A brief pause. Rita recalls the other times she's put an Antegent in her mouth. "Well, I've only had something like it once or twice. But this is even better than those. I wonder if you could put just a little bit in other foods? It'd add good notes, I think." Even though she finds the flora perfectly edible too (after a moment of hesitation), Rita struggles just a little with them. Sometimes she has to tug her head to one side to properly bite off a chunk, like she's pulling at a carcass. Then she has to push it over to one cheek with her tongue and chew carefully. There's a reason herbivores have duller teeth, after all. "Well, I guess that's true, then. I'm not sure I've ever hurt anyone because I was mad at them," she says after swallowing something not meant to be swallowed and dabbing at her lips delicately with a cloth napkin. "I try not to wish anyone dead who..." A hesitant pause. Her face wrinkles up. "Well, never mind. I think you sort of get it, Ms. Rook." Hearing the words 'the Union Busan' makes her jolt upright from her slump as if electrified. "You went there?!" Scared. Desperately hopeful. "So they're okay? But-" A grimace of pain. "No. Nobody else told me. I guess... they were trying to find the right time." Rita squeezes her fork between her index finger and thumb. The metal starts to crumple, but she doesn't see it. Her eyes are downcast. "Why are they worried?" Her voice quails a little. "I wish they wouldn't worry. I told them to stop. I can't stand it. Thank you for telling them I'm okay, but..." The metal creaks. Rita's eyes shut; her hand relaxes. "They were supposed to let me go." Her tone is defeated. She knows exactly how impossible what she's asking is. "'When I'm ready'..." Her eyes scrunch tighter. Her shoulders draw in. "Thank you for keeping them safe, Ms. Rook. But I can't go back there. I can't. It doesn't matter if I'm ready or not. It'd just put everyone else in danger."
Lilian Rook	'I wonder if you could put just a little bit in other foods?' "I wonder as well, honestly. I've never particularly looked into how well it stores or transports, and I've certainly never asked anyone at home to learn how to cook it. It'd probably be much easier for you, though." Lilian Visibly Considers Rita's chewing style as that line of conversation closes. The 'huh' is internal. 'I think you sort of get it, Ms. Rook.' "I do." Lilian says, and that's the end of that. 'You went there?!' Lilian takes a deep breath. It is for Rita's benefit, as show, not her own. "They are. It seems the odd little worker's council that your brother set up is performing admirably. There are supply shortages as it seems there always are, but they seem to be more or less equally distributed. Besides, I've already promised my own aid in that regard. The necessities for that many people aren't all that burdensome." Lilian leans on the table. "They've all worked very hard. I don't mind sharing some of 'more money than I know what to do with'. It seems only fair." 'Why are they worried?' "Because they're your family. That's how it's supposed to be." says Lilian, firmly, earnestly, and without saying 'how they are'. "They know better than to worry that something terrible has happened. They worry that you aren't treating yourself right. You ran away on fairly jarring terms, after all. It's natural that they'd worry that you might be wallowing in guilt and punishing yourself, instead sleeping in a decent bed and making friends." Lilian pauses to consider something. "They were most relieved that I told them you were getting along with people, and knew how to take care of yourself, for the most part. We reached an . . . understanding." 'It doesn't matter if I'm ready or not. It'd just put everyone else in danger.' "We all know that. That's why we're going to eliminate the Queen." says Lilian, dropping the bombshell that the words comprise with perfectly British deadpan. "To be clear, that was their idea; we simply happened upon them at a fortunate enough time to aid with the effort. Not just Kana and Bota; the entire Union Busan is throwing themselves into the task too. Not just to be rid of the Leviathans; they all earnestly seem to want you to return." Lilian leaves her food alone for a while, then hits her wine about twice as hard as she should. "We've made contact with that awful creature. Or I suppose she made contact with us. My analysis is that she perceives you as a threat to her rule. She is indeed obsessed with you. I understand more clearly now, why you'd run away." Lilian internally considers Ishirou's words, then utters with disgust, "She even had the stones to demand that we trade you over as part of an ultimatum. A 'bargain' that ends with the extinction of humanity in that world, but slower. And more importantly, letting her live any longer will cause the Leviathans to spread to hundreds, if not thousands, of surrounding worlds, very shortly. So of course I said that I don't negotiate with monsters, and especially when they have nothing to offer. Whether or not she, quote unquote, 'spares humanity', we can't let her live." She pokes her fork towards Rita. "So don't get any stupid ideas. This battle is inevitable, and you can't stop it. Everyone on Earth has a reason to take her down." "The Busan's plan is well-conceived for what little they have, presuming the allies they want will follow through. But it's still extremely risky. The Paladins have pledged their aid, variously. If that doesn't fill you with confidence, then at least trust in my capable hands, especially with Tamamo, Kana, and Bota there too."
Rita Ma	'They worry that you aren't treating yourself right.' Rita slumps in her seat and looks off to the side, guiltily unfocused. Her fingers play restlessly with a lock of her hair. She can't possibly object that that's an unfair worry. "For a while, before you met me and a little after, I wasn't. But some of my friends pulled me out of it. Even if I still miss them a whole lot, I'm doing okay now. Ms. Rook, could you please tell them I'm sorry? They shouldn't have had to worry about that." 'That's why we're going to eliminate the Queen.' The jolt that follows is nearly equal to her initial shock, but it's tamped down by her visible guilt intensifying. Rita's hands fall to her sides; her eyes scan Lilian's face in soft disbelief. "But you don't even know if you can! Just because Bota and Kana came up with it- you're going to let them try something dangerous like that? All for..." 'All for me', she doesn't say. That's the part she really objects to. But her guilt is shut down by bafflement. Halfway through reaching across the table to plead with Lilian, her grasping hand falls short. "What do you mean, they want me back? Ms. Rook, you're wrong. I know you're wrong." A horrible pain emerges from the depths of her heart to paint itself on her face, a year old but still fresh. "They saw me. They saw me, Ms. Rook. All those people." Thin lines of glittering moisture seep through her disguise-wrappings from her true eyes beneath. Her faltering hand balls up, nails digging into her palm. "They were so scared of me. I heard them screaming. 'Monster, monster.' All the things I'd told myself, that nobody else had ever said..." She doesn't finish that sentence. Instead, as Lilian outlines their encounter with the Queen, Rita crumples in on herself further and further, as if she could achieve negative volume and just vanish from the spot. The mention of a bargain is, perversely, her only reprieve- she brightens up, ready to jump on the grenade, before Lilian shoots that down too. The tension is unbearable. She really might start to sob. 'This battle is inevitable and you can't stop it. Everyone on Earth has a reason to take her down.' Finally that releases Rita's tension all at once, in a choked exhalation and a clammy shudder from head to toe. She droops down until her forehead meets the table, completely drained. "As long as it's not just for me," she murmurs. "If it were, it'd kill me. Please understand, Ms. Rook." When she finds the strength to sit back upright, she still looks pale. "I trust you. It's not like I don't. You and Ms. Tamamo are amazing, Bota's gotten so brave, and Kana is... Kana." That's spoken as if it were a mythological epithet. "But please, be safe. Even if it's not all for me, if anyone got hurt..."
Lilian Rook	'Ms. Rook, could you please tell them I'm sorry? They shouldn't have had to worry about that.' "I can, but . . ." Lilian begins. ". . . You should be careful, about what you want to apologize for. If you choose the wrong thing, all you'll accomplish is making whem worry about how unhappy you must be to say it." 'But you don't even know if you can! Just because Bota and Kana came up with it- you're going to let them try something dangerous like that? All for...' "I can and I will, Rita." Lilian's voice is much less conversationally soft all of a sudden. An inch short of 'sharp'. The kind she could get weapon-ready with a few quick strokes of a whetstone. "What happens if they don't try? Union Busan gradually slides into decay and deprivation. One of them rolls the worst dice and is killed in action during a freak contingency. Then the other. Everyone you ever knew never sees you again. If that your plan? To avoid them until they die anyways? How many more battles are you going to force them to fight? How many people are going to die because of the Leviathans?" Rita can shrink and recoil all she wants in front of Lilian. This is the one thing she's deadly serious about. "Don't get so full of yourself. Your situation alerted everyone to the existence of a queen. It was only a matter of time before they decided to destroy it. To save their world. And to avenge the dead. If such a thing existed here, it'd be exactly the same." That said, Lilian utters a deflating sigh and looks over her laced fingers at Rita with the sort of expression reserved for a pet cat that fell off a table when you only meant to spray it with water. "I told you I went there. That means I saw what you did. They still haven't fully repaired everything. No surprise, given how little useful metal there is out there. It's like stitching in places, holding people's homes above the water line. How long do you think it took them to realize you saved them? Months? Days? Minutes? They aren't stupid, Rita. They all know the reason why they're still afloat and alive." 'As long as it's not just for me' Lilian picks up her fork again, but only succeeds at spinning it over back and forth between her fingers for twenty seconds. "You said you were sorry before, for not letting me choose. If you really meant that, let me choose to protect your family. It's not out of some sense of needing to pay you back; I have no reason to feel indebted to you at the moment. They're just . . ." "They're good people, in a bad situation they don't deserve. One that we might be able to solve, for once. And I'd take this mission on even if just one human life were in the balance. Because . . ." Lilian takes in a deep breath. "This is when I finally get to be the type of person I'm supposed to be. I want to protect good people, and even if I can't do that, I at least want to protect the people who were good to you, and taught you to be good to people like me. Okay?"
Rita Ma	Rita pulls her knees up against her chest, rests her chin on them, and hugs her legs, staring at the wall to her left rather than meet Lilian's gaze. She looks almost like she might throw up. She flinches at the sharp tone, but the flinch is, by necessity, subdued. There isn't much more she can express. 'Is that your plan? To avoid them until they die anyways?' Her face scrunches up tight in anguish. She briefly flickers translucent, trying to find a way to hide. It takes her a moment longer to be able to answer that. "No," she says, her voice a little scratchy. "I thought I'd be dead first, Ms. Rook." 'They all know the reason they're afloat and alive.' Rita winces. "There being a hole to fix at all was my fault, too. It's because the Queen sent a big monster to look for me. Solving problems that I caused... that doesn't count for anything." She sounds miserable. It's not clear if she really believes that, or if she's just explaining her thoughts. Maybe she's trying to decide if she believes it. "So I thought... if I just left, they wouldn't be in danger anymore. And everything would be..." Like I hadn't been born. But she can't get those words out. 'Okay?' Rita tries to breathe in to answer, but it turns into a single sob. Her face is mercifully hidden by her knees. Her next breath doesn't hitch, but it's accompanied with a bleary sniffle. She fruitlessly tries to rub at her eyes with the back of her arm. "Okay," she says, but it comes out quieter than she meant it to, barely above a whisper. "Okay." It's firmer the second time. "You don't... need my permission, though. So what are you asking for, Ms. Rook? For me not to feel guilty? I can try my best, but I can't promise that." Rita raises her head to look down at her slightly squished fork. She's still got about a third of her food left. For the last few minutes, she hasn't touched a bite. For once, she doesn't seem to have much of an appetite.
Lilian Rook	'I thought I'd be dead first, Ms. Rook.' "Don't." Lilian grips the bridge of her nose, closing her eyes half-behind her fist. "Please don't." She takes a second to collect herself. "Don't make the people who love you miserable. And don't capitulate to the thing that wants you dead. Never ever.")] 'Solving problems that I caused... that doesn't count for anything.' "Stop. I'm not having this." says Lilian. "You already blame yourself for things that are no one's fault. Don't you dare start blaming yourself for things that are someone else's fault. That monster made the decision to kill all those people, not you. That thing decided to make things into you go or it goes, not you. It's responsible for the deaths of millions. Even now, it's trying to exterminate the human race, and repeat the process a million times over. I am not allowing you to take that evil onto yourself. It was the queen's doing and the queen is going to pay." "Don't shoulder abuse as something that was your fault for tempting. That's something someone has been trying to teach me too. And you've done far less to earn that cognitive dissonance than I have." 'You don't... need my permission, though. So what are you asking for, Ms. Rook?' Lilian stares into the dregs of her glass for a few moments, then moves to refill it. Over the sound of the slow trickle of liquid, she says "Nothing more than I said. I'm asking you to let me do it, and that means not trying to take matters into your own hands. From the moment I heard the queen's shitty ultimatum, I knew would be enough to convince you throw your life away, like you just thought about. But I want to do this, because it's what Lilian Rook should do. So no matter what other choice comes, whatever grenade there is to throw yourself on, don't. Please let me do this. Let me save the world and have a happily ever after. Can you promise me that?" There's the feeling of a thumb and finger against the underside of Rita's chin, unearhtly soft, gently tilting her head up. It doesn't fade once Rita can see Lilin hand in her lap leaning forward with sober concern, eyes searching Rita's face as if expecting to find an injury. "I have a lot of debts to pay too, Rita. It's okay, if you aren't okay. I don't need you to pretend you're fine for me. I just need to not worry about this one thing if I'm going to fight."