Scene #8019: ES-VC: Prelude

Owner	Pose
Tamamo	It's not Earth, so it makes sense that it's a bit hard to pin down 'when or where on Earth this would be,' but there are plenty of similarities. People have smartphones, yet waitresses carry out drive-thru meals on roller skates. Grainy advertising billboards show red-faced children and smiling men whose graying hair has a single, forward curl, while others are digital screens animating the kind of concerning kitchen offerings for which a certain Princess became known. This street alone has multiple speakeasies, though the nature of such an establishment means that they're only bills as 'clubs' (and/or 'klubs'). Pedestrians have a tendency to travel in excitable groups for unclear purposes. But all of that can be passed by. Tamamo's invited Lilian to a particular basement beneath a particular bar, which has 'closed,' though the middle-aged man cleaning the glasses behind the bar goes to open it at her arrival with a smile, and gesture toward the back. "Right this way, miss." Friendly sort. The basement is a library and a study, the books tending toward the cryptic, running from reprinted histories to questionable grimoires to modern examinations of the effects of mythological figures on society. Tamamo is sitting next to a small stack of them.
Lilian Rook	Lilian summarily decides that this time period of Earth is her least favourite. The aesthetic feels cheap and skeezy, and more importantly, it's the period most fondly reminisced on by the sort of person she hates most in the whole wide world. Even if it's very American altogether, it represents the zeigeist most iconically, and for that, Lilian's skin crawls at every apple-cheeked child on a billboard she passes. Tamamo being found in a dark and secluded bar basement is unsual, but welcome. Not just because it's Tamamo, but it's out of the lights and sounds of the single generation that thought their rabid consumption would last forever and into the comforting quiet of an old place filled with books; something that always makes Lilian feel inherently safe. She quietly slides herself a seat across from Tamamo, dressed up properly (and thus, too-rich), for an outing. "You've truly found the strangest spot to bury your nose this time." she says. "This is really unlike you. What is it?"
Tamamo	Tamamo turns the page. Quite unaware of Lilian's particular issue with the area (and unthinkingly sporting an evening dress to match the general aesthetic), she still thinks it curious enough to explain. "The people here are rather concerned with foxes, I might say." Beginning with that sort of misleading line. "Although, they are also quite concerned with cats and dogs. Similarly, they are concerned with demons, whether with horns of great size or wings of dubious use, as well as with dragons and serpents of the sea. They are concerned with all manner of inhuman creature, and are..." She trails off for a moment. "It is nostalgic, perhaps, to find a group of humans so eager to follow the divine that they see gods in every direction. I cannot walk the streets above without being offered hospitality. And yet, for their interest in the collection of records, I shall take advantage, for some little while. A pity I cannot, on my own, even attempt all of the drinks offered to me. Oh, but no one would mind should you provide some help in that regard, I think." There are a couple of glasses near her, and more than a few bottles, as if someone had been enthusiastic about discovering her tastes. She puts the book down, setting A Treatise on Mesoamerican Dragons beside something with only a Chinese title. "Oh, but all of that may wait. I had called you here to tell you of what plans I have devised, for that more important matter. I would not..." It's not as if she hadn't already thought of what to say, but it's difficult to remember that day on the sands, when she'd been blindsided by Lilian's own plans. It's difficult not to remember it. "...tell you that I wished you not to take a particular route, if I did not intend to find a preferable option. And so, I have thought, traveled, and read. I have such a plan as, I believe, shall suffice, and yet, I lack some of the means by which to be certain it shall succeed."
Lilian Rook	"Tamamo . . ." Lilian begins, then runs out of words and sighs in vexation. She settles on dry observation instead, her eyes drifting to the bottles. "I'm fairly certain they were trying to flirt. Having me along would either piss them off or excite them far too much." she concludes. Considering it's all right there though, Lilian's hands hover the bottles while she scans ahead for the one she'll enjoy the most, opens one barehanded, and slowly pours two glasses. She's clearly seen how the maids do it a million times before. "Mesoamerican . . ." Lilian mouths quietly, whilst Tamamo thinks. If she herself were a fox, her ears would prick up uncomfortably at what follows. "I . . . certainly remember that, yes. Clearly." She coughs lightly. "I had noticed you'd been a little preoccupied, during the periods in which I've suddenly found myself free, but . . ." "Of course I trust you, Tamamo. More than anyone. But I'm worried."
Tamamo	"Lilian..." Tamamo starts, then giggles. It takes a few moments to control herself. "Do you think I have so rarely observed passionate gazes?" But she ends up putting that aside. They hadn't really had a good opportunity to talk about it. Tamamo had done more in secret, uncertain how it would be taken, than she'd done in plain view, and now that weighs on her. "Shall I speak more plainly?" Carrying the risk of making mistakes, and of being mistaken. "Though there are such things of which I do not know, I know, at least, that your transformation came about from influences external. I had been worried, before, that it was some thing that had always been entwined with your spirit, and only now revealed, but it is not so. Night Mist served to protect you from it. That creature of your dreams, before--" Oh, yes. She hadn't mentioned this, either. "Candelario informed me of it, at a later date. He thought it a creature that we might go and defeat, and I suggested to him that, if it were something kept away, and we would need enter its own lair to fight it, and did know nothing of it, that this might be a foolish sort of bravery. I do not believe my reasoning incorrect. However, since then, I have traced the strings between it and you. It is not quite so distant as I would have preferred it remain." Tamamo retrieves another of the books from one of the piles. "Is there any need to say that I worry for you? Often and terribly." The spine reads, 'Cu Chulainn.' "Of this, be assured. I will spare no effort for your sake. No, 'for the sake of our future.' For a future I may spend with you. For..." She stops. "Oh! Hah -- please pardon me. I may have been, one might say, working myself up. And yet, there is really no such need for concern. I know just what needs to be done. It begins with stealing an artifact from Lugh, as close to the place of your family's lineage as possible. That is, truly, the best and safest way to gain the authority I will need. At another date, I shall need to acquire the indigo ink as used by the artists of a particularly violent heaven, but on this point, I know already the arrangements that must be made. There is a third point, but of this, I have not yet decided what type of doll would best serve."
Lilian Rook	Tamamo's giggle is infectious. Lilian does it too. "No, no, of course you're right. I was caught up in whether you'd be aware of the culture and rather missed the point of how universal the impetus is." It's good to have that little break in the clouds. A ray of sunshine cast on how they are normally. Lilian has plenty of breath to holding still to do. 'that it was some thing that had always been entwined with your spirit' "Maybe it is, halfway." Lilian murmurs under her breath. "No, I'm certain that's at least a little bit true, but . . ." 'That creature of your dreams, before--' Lilian's eyes open wide. "How did--?" Her spine stiffens. She looks as if she's about to be interrogated. As if she expects to have to start lying very quickly and very well. She doesn't like suddenly being rendered this kind of vulnerable by Tamamo. This kind of bare. "Christ, of course it's Candelario's fault, that nosy little manbitch." Lilian huffs explosively as Tamamo explains. "I haven't had that dream since I was tiny. That thing . . . I barely remember it. I used to think it was coming to take me away." An uncomfortable noise follows. "Some nights I wished it would. But that delusions is . . ." Lilian's mind obviously wanders back to the Tree of Crisis. The huge, dark shape within. The pale ghost of herself, scar and all, slumbering within its core. She shakes her head. "No. We're not going back there. We were absurdly fortunate last time. To push our luck ten times over would be absurd. Especially after . . . I don't know, but I feel as if it'd be a bad idea, after seeing that remnant of Mors Caelorum on the western isles." 'Is there any need to say that I worry for you? Often and terribly.' "No." Lilian admits. "And I wish you wouldn't." A weak smile. "I don't want to be that bad for you. What's the point of any of this if I just make you worry and not happy?" 'It begins with stealing an artifact from Lugh, as close to the place of your family's lineage as possible.' Lilian chokes on her drink. She has to thump her collarbone to get back her breath. "Excuse me? Lugh? Second king of the De Dannan? If he's even real, or what myth records him as, how do you propose we steal anything from him? And how on Earth would that help?" The talk of dolls flies right over her head for a bit. She looks at the spine of the book. The ghost of a wince tenses her cheeks. "You're not chasing down something like Cruaidín Catutchenn, are you. You're going . . ." Lilian shakes her head vehemently. "Tamamo I . . . I can't just go walking back there. Not after how I left last time. I broke contract. When you and Xion came for me, I reneged on an oath and abandoned Dunscaith. She won't . . ." Lilian sucks in air. "Be pleased. And that's . . . what are you going to do if it's deep into the Otherside? Tir na nOg? A hundred days for every one?"
Tamamo	'We're not going back there. We were absurdly fortunate last time. To push our luck ten times over would be absurd.' "Oh, yes, I agree. I did tell him words to this effect. Why, even in storybooks, the heroes do not always return home whole, after their triumph. There must be a good reason, before one seeks danger." 'I don't want to be that bad for you.' Breathily, "Oh, there are such things for which I wish, my Lilian." Smiling through the unease, "And yet, if I do nothing, and am concerned for nothing, shall my wishes come true? For how long might we avoid speaking of some unclear and troubling matter, and what end shall result? And so, I decided, though I must trouble you, now, and be troubled, it is not a matter that should be left alone. To overcome, too, is sometimes necessary." Wistfully, "I do long for some things to become distant memories, of challenges over which we have long since triumphed, merely pieces of the foundation built for more peaceful lives." Maybe it's a little warm, down here, though her outfit should breath quite a bit more easily than her usual layers of robes. 'I can't just go walking back there.' "Are there others for whom it would be safer?" After a moment, Tamamo continues with a serious tone, "Give that true consideration, whether this is a task that would be better or worse for your own presence in that step, and whether there is another who can be trusted to aid. Not to succeed, but only to aid, mind you. You must trust in me, for success." '. . . what are you going to do if it's deep into the Otherside?' Tamamo has to take a moment to think about that. "There are other options, each less certain than the last. The easiest, yet the least useful, is to look to the isles in the East, rather than the West. I would not leave you," a barely noticeable pause, the next word difficult, "alone for so long, though I would not be so reluctant for any other."
Lilian Rook	'Why, even in storybooks, the heroes do not always return home whole' Lilian winces a little. "I'd give my usual objection, but I suppose we're here because I've discovered my one weak point in that regard, aren't we?" 'I do long for some things to become distant memories, of challenges over which we have long since triumphed, merely pieces of the foundation built for more peaceful lives.' "Every day." Lilian blurts out, in a hoarse whisper, then sucks in a rattly breath once she realizes she just did. Her eyes, having wandered to the corner of the room, snap back to Tamamo. "That's a familiar feeling. I know it very well." Lilian sighs, now in the process of seeing how tightly she can squeeze her glass without it cracking. "Not just about us. Barely ever about us. This is all . . . this has all been just one big extension of everything that came a long, long time ago. If only I could be rid of it. Laugh it off. Remember it with a sense of distance and pride. I get that. I just want . . . this, to not be worked into 'us', into every crack and pore, inextricable and insperable, like it is into 'me'." 'Are there others for whom it would be safer?' "Practically anyone who hasn't broken a contract with Scáthach." Lilian remarks, drily. "Well, no, that's not strictly true. I have an inkling of how powerful she is, and there aren't many in Sector Zero who wouldn't be in even more danger, given the slightest chance of rubbing her the wrong way." The anxious displeasure creeps into her voice now. "But if I go, it'll definitely go badly. And if you're there at the same time as me . . . well, I don't know what she thinks about you being 'the reason'. We didn't actually speak all that much. Not about anything other than war. Of course, I could leave Arina and Satsuki in your care --I'd trust them to protect you-- but . . ." She thinks a little longer. Lilian shifts uncomfortably in her seat, but without the tension this time. "East, is it? I'd think a solar treasure would be just as hard to get there, for different reasons, but something did spring to mind when I started trying to solve for it." She looks up. "Don't we already know someone who knows where everything is at all times? A mutual friend already wrapped up in a treasure hunt and desperate to go outside. And who . . ." Lilian rubs her gloved hand. "Probably knows a little about how I am, right now. How this feels. She made her own wish, after all."