Scene #8245: It's Like A Sleepover

Owner	Pose
Remee Halcyon	It is the next day, after Petra's trip to help with the Oblivion Protocol. At, presumably by now, lunchtime - or whatever time Petra decides to emerge from the suite's bedroom and into the secondary room Remee made sure was set aside - to which at Remee's insistence, at minimum some basic necessities were installed by some of the other Watch members. A couch, a table and chairs, and a kitchenette - you know, things that people have in their homes, and specifically not in the same room in which they sleep. She's insisted. In any case, when Petra makes her appearance, she's hit before anything else with a smell. It's a sharp smell, and an unwelcome smell, and a smell that permeates the entire room - and rapidly seeps into the bedroom as well, now that the door's open. "Oh hey!" says Remee, waving over at her. "Don't mind me, I had some leftovers from a planet-side trip that I'm heating back up." The microwave dings, and Remee pulls her fish sandwich out of it.
Petra Soroka	Petra pushes open the door with bleary eyes, rubbing a knuckle in one to clear it of sleep. She's wearing cozy, flannel pajamas, and draped over her other arm is her classic pair of overalls, one leg stiff with brown, crumbling blood. She takes her first step into the room, and her leg trembles, limping heavily. Her face crinkles up into a snotty pout of disgust, directed nowhere in particular. Eyeliner is smudged around her eyes, two days old. "Ugh. Agh." Petra opens her mouth and gags, "Good morning. Remee. Is there, ah, any breakfast for me?"
Remee Halcyon	"Oh yeah, I made some breakfast sandwiches for us both, and..." She pauses. "Oh, right, I ended up eating yours..." The fragrant fish sandwich is put down on the counter, and Remee goes over to the fridge. "Okay! Let's see what we've got, though... something nutritious... I can get some more sausages going, maybe? Or there's a few dozen eggs left..." She doesn't comment on Petra's appearance. Or even really seemed to react to it.
Petra Soroka	Petra shuts her eyes, swaying in place. Her stomach grumbles, loudly. She staggers over to a chair, limp pronounced enough that maybe she's just faking it? She pulls it out and sits down heavily, flopping the overalls over the back of another chair. "Eggs, would be great, and also sausage, and..." Petra trails off, muttering, "Pancakes...." "Oh, and, um. My overalls got torn, in the fight last night. There was... some weird crying monster made of goop and metal. Was freaky." Petra, almost automatically, reaches for the glass on the table, and almost touches it to her lips before freezing and putting it down, realizing that it's Remee's. She clears her throat. "Mmm. Do you think we could send it back to that drycleaner to get stitched up?"
Remee Halcyon	"Oh, yeah, sure sure! We'll make a laundry run today..." "... Um, actually! I... had gone out hunting yesterday, and ended up getting all my clothes dirty, and so I ran through all the clean clothes I'd packed earlier than I thought..." "... So I ended up going in and borrowing some of your underwear. That's fine, right?" There's a sizzle as some sausage links get thrown onto the kitchenette's electric griddle. "I could hear your stomach rumbling from here... I'll throw some extra on. You really don't eat enough, you know?" says Remee. "You need to take better care of your health."
Petra Soroka	Petra stares off into space, awareness slowly returning to her consciousness. She's silent for a long time, before saying, "...I need to get more underwear." Her forehead, which had been wrinkled in hostility ever since she walked out of the bedroom, smooths out, and she smiles vaguely, at nothing. Petra stands up, and grabs another cup to fill with water, taking a drink. Without a word, she walks over to the sink, and grabs one of the dirty dishes and a sponge. Even while standing still, she obviously favors one leg over another. That airy, silly smile is still on her face as she starts washing dishes. "So, um. We're going to try to deal with the mind control thing on Friday, right? What are the plans for, you know... after?"
Remee Halcyon	"Yeah - DRYCLEAN has the crown now and was looking at it, I think he was saying he could find-" She pauses, looking at Petra. "Jeez, what happened to you? "You've got - blood all over your pants, there... I didn't notice because I couldn't smell it, I guess..." She gets right up into Petra's personal space and goes to sniff at her leg.
Petra Soroka	Thoughtlessly, automatically, Petra calls out "they," when Remee refers to DRYCLEAN as he. She doesn't look up from her dishes, or even notice she does it. She does, however, notice when Remee sniffs at her leg. "A-ah? W-wait, what?" She takes a step away from Remee's questing nose, and her wounded leg buckles under her, causing a comedic chain of events leading to the wet, soapy sponge dropping on Remee's head. Petra stares at this outcome in silence for a moment, arms braced on the counter to hold herself up, then rights herself. "I just, uh. Got wounded, by the monster. And...." A long, long pause, but the silence is pregnant enough to be sure that the sentence isn't over. "And Rook used some kind of blood magic on it."
Remee Halcyon	Wolf, with sponge on her head. "Ah, you got wounded... do we need to get you some healing, too?" Remee takes the sponge off of her head, and then shakes herself dry - which thankfully only causes a little bit of water to go flying. "Still! That's not... um, hygenic, like that," she says. "Here, let me help you get out of those." Her hands go for Petra's pants...!
Petra Soroka	"Woah! A-ah! Down!" Petra fumbles around for a defensive weapon, and reaches her hand into the sink, splashing it with water. She flicks the water at Remee's face while backing away, her other hand grabbing tightly to her pants waist. "Don't do that! Let me put on some shorts. I need to change the bandage anyways." She backs away from Remee warily, staying facing her as she retreats into the bedroom. It's a full 15 minutes until she comes out, the food's probably finished, but Petra looks much better cleaned up. She's washed her face, reapplied eyeliner, switched into an oversized sweatshirt tucked a tiny bit into her shorts. But, of course, the shorts reveal the brown-black stained gauze, poorly wrapped around her upper thigh. One end of it is already peeling up.
Remee Halcyon	There's a yipe at the water being flicked. "Hey! I'm not a dog!" complains Remee, even if it actually does get her to back away. "Cut it out with the spray bottle schtick..." The food's finished, and there's suspiciously less sausage links on Petra's plate than Remee put in the griddle. There's no fish sandwich anymore either, at least. "Food's ready-" Remee says redundantly, but then pauses and sniffs the air. "That smells fresher... you got injured again?" Remee narrows her eyes. "Petra..." "... It's clearly unsafe for you to stay in your mech like that," she says, hands on her hips. "You got gouged by that sharp corner on the control panel, didn't you? You don't have to feel like you need to hide this stuff from me."
Petra Soroka	Petra's return is heralded by another stomach grumble, and she eagerly goes to sit down at the table. Her gaze is, with great reluctance, torn from the food, to meet Remee's. For once, she looks more like the dog, guiltily unable to meet eye contact. "I got hurt by the monster. And Lilian did something to it. The wound, I mean. The monster too, I guess." She shuffles uncomfortably. "She made it bleed more. Like she made more blood come out, faster, for a longer time. That's why so much got in my overalls."
Remee Halcyon	"Lilian..." Remee sighs. "I guess we need to do something about her too... it's not enough to make our home here at a place she can't reach, huh?" "Anyway. Eat." Remee goes to sit opposite her at the table.
Petra Soroka	Petra sags when Remee drops the questioning, relieved. "Y-yeah. I mean, at least we know she can't get here." Petra pauses for a moment, expecting the irony despite herself. "See? She couldn't resist foreshadowing that perfect, so that must mean we're safe here." Petra picks up her fork, and starts shoveling sausage into her mouth, practically as impolite as Remee is. "So, um. Like I was saying, about Friday. After Friday. When it's safe to not do the buddy system..." She leaves the sentence dangling open, taking another bite of sausage.
Remee Halcyon	"I have a few things prepared specifically for her in case she shows up," says Remee, then pauses. "Actually probably should still keep all that to myself just in case..." "Friday is just when we have the mission... it's not necessarily going to be an all-clear, you know," says Remee. "... But, okay, assuming best case scenario..." Remee tilts her head. "Then what?"
Petra Soroka	"In case of...?" Petra trails off, her mind immediately jumping to the conclusion that Remee is accusing her of being an infosec weak link when it comes to Lilian. Then she blinks and shakes her head, dismissing the thought. Petra chews on a sausage thoughtfully. Or maybe anxiously. It's hard to emote through a chewing motion. "After that... you'll be back in the grassland biomedome, right?" She's still not getting at the question that she wants to ask.
Remee Halcyon	"Yeah, I mean, I'm comfortable there. It's why I picked this station, you know?" "I mean, it hasn't been... horrible, rooming with you." There's a bit too much hesitation in that ellipsis, but Remee powers through. "I mean, we've worked things out. But I miss having a wide open area to run around. Like I had back at home."
Petra Soroka	Petra hesitates, her mind running through a million interpretations of that pause. Does Remee hate rooming with her and is being polite? Are the grasslands an excuse? Did Petra do something wrong? Is Remee actually reluctant to separate, too? Petra shudders, the negative readings significantly outweighing the positive. But.... Petra's eyes wander across the countertop, lingering on the dirty dishes. Inside her mind's eye, she effortlessly images this kitchenette with only one person in it, those dishes piling up. Half the dishes and a tenth the desire to clean them. A silent bedroom, all to herself. Even in the Kana, she was able to play ambient sleeping sounds. "Um. I also, kind of like being your roommate. But, I'm really grateful for all this set up here, but... I'd be okay with being in the grasslands too. Like, in a cabin, I mean.
Remee Halcyon	There's a long pause from Remee as she says that. "You want to move in together?" she asks, her face unreadable. And then. Her ears perk. She stands up. Her wagging tail hits the back of the chair several times. "Yes!" "A cabin? I mean it'll take a little bit to get built and set up, but - yes! That'd be great!"
Petra Soroka	Petra flushes,her ears burning red, and ducks her head. She stammers, unable to meet Remee's eyes. "Well, I, I just don't want to, it's not really that," "...Sorry for being so indecisive. And wasting time and resources. But, um, I would be comfortable in the grasslands. W-with--together." Remee's pose, leaning over the table, brings her face close enough that Petra can't look anywhere but down. She spears one of her remaining sausages on her fork and holds it out to Remee as an offer, just a purely habitual action. "If it's okay with you. Then I'd really rather be out there." Petra smiles at her plate, despite herself. Her wound throbs under its bandages, and a tiny whiff of fresh blood reaches Remee.
Remee Halcyon	nom And then Remee's nose wriggles. "... We need to get that wound checked out, first, though."