Scene #8299:

Owner	Pose
Petra Soroka	Yesterday was stressful for Petra. Liza's operation, the smoke and screams that her presence always entails, clung uncomfortably to the corners of her mind when Petra tried to rest her bruises in the space station, so she decided to get out somewhere to clear her head. And where better to get fresh air and a clear mind than an arcade! Petra stands in front of an arcade cabinet for a zombie-themed rail shooter, plastic pistol gripped tightly in both hands. The LEVEL CLEAR window pops up, and Petra hesitates, deciding not to immediately progress to the next state. She pulls her arcade card out--it looks worn, like it's been swiped hundreds of times--shoves it in the pocket of her bomber jacket, and starts walking along the aisle of cabinets to head outside. Already pulling a cigarette out of her pocket, though she's decent enough to not light it inside, Petra's boots thud softly against the black starry carpet, the cacophony of tinny beeps and music and shouting fading to a dull roar as she thinks back to last night. <J-IC-Scene> Rita Ma hotmics a godawful crunching, slurping noise. It still sounds louder than anything else here.
Kukuru	Physically, Kukuru came out of yesterday's job relatively fine. Some lingering soreness here, some tender bruises and contusions there, but nothing that can't be slept off over the span of a few days. All things considered, she got out of it way better than her own companions or the target of her job. Mentally, though, she's struggling. It's not hard to feel like an abject failure after all that, so the last thing she should be doing is taking on more work no matter how much she wants to. After finally relenting and agreeing to take the day off, she's decided to go somewhere that nobody would really question her going to aside from the fact that it's going to be noisy: The arcade! After all... Nobody's going to wonder why she's playing a light gun game there. It's clearly not target practice, because she's shooting hearts at fake girls rather than bullets at fake zombies! Also, it's a lot more palatable to her than shooting anyone thatlooks like they might've been one of her neighbors. At least, she wasn't expecting to get looks, but it's kind of hard to ignore someone that looks like one of those fake girls playing such a game in public at her age. She's also not very good at it, like she's barely handled a gun before in her life. At least the dark jacket and general purple-black clothing helps her hide a bit better than her usual getup.
Petra Soroka	Petra walks down the aisle of gun-game cabinets, fiddling with her unlit cigarette like a fidget toy, and just before she reaches out to push the glass exit doors open, she pauses. She slowly turns her head to look back inside the arcade. Petra takes a few steps back the way she came, then freezes, then takes a few more steps towards outside. What is Kukuru doing here? What-- Why...? Petra's thoughts spin for a long moment, words and accusations overlapping loudly in her head. Is... Kukuru mad at her? For getting Anita kiFor hurting her during the Watch operation and helping Liza? Petra feels a pang of guilt, and preemptively burns it out with angry defensiveness. She can only conceptualize Kukuru being here as some act of aggression towards her; revenge, or pity. And that's just so unfair. After Petra tried so hard to get Kukuru to stand down, and to be gentle herself? It fucking sucks. Petra balls up her fist, and stops blocking the arcade's exit finally. She stomps over and slams her hand on the surface of Kukuru's cabinet, opening her mouth to hiss at her, but flinching so disproportionately hard at the noise created by her own hand that her accusation comes out almost like a whimper. "Are--you following me? Why?"
Kukuru	It's taken a bit of time for Kukuru to get into the groove of the game, fighting that natural inclination to avoid shooting people in the head, but the graphics of the game she's playing help a lot with overcoming that hurdle. She's getting a little too bogged down in the mechanics of it, too, but her aim is improving at a snail's place rather than not at all. By the time Petra comes over, though, she's still on the first stage. She jumps a bit at that slam, too, although perhaps not flinching as much as Petra does at realizing what the source of that sound was. "Huh...? Oh. Hey, Petra." Her voice is different today. Quieter, like she's not full of that same vitality she usually has. Distant, too, but in an overly forced way that doesn't sound at all natural for her. It's almost like she's trying to act tough and indifferent. "No, I just wanted to... Go do something outside of work. Get some practice in with..." She gestures at the game. "This... Thing. What are you here for, then?" It really sounds unnatural for her to try and sound off-put, although there's some genuine conflict in her tone as to whether or not she's glad to see Petra there.
Petra Soroka	Petra's aggressive stance falters immediately at Kukuru's coolness. It's so out of character for her that even Petra recognizes that something is wrong, and that it's not about her, for once. "K-Kukuru? You wanted to get practice with..." Petra turns to the screen on the cabinet, taking in the brightly colored anime girls and cheerful music, "...With an anime girl rail shooter?" Petra is briefly baffled at the idea, expecting there to be some follow-up joke. When there isn't, and Kukuru still looks sullen, Petra feels a flutter of panic in her chest. Kukuru shouldn't be feeling bad after what happened. She was fighting for the good guys. Petra should be the one sulking, and Kukuru should be--trying to make everyone feel better. Petra needles Kukuru more, as if she's trying to convince her that there should be a punchline. "But, but you've never even fired one of these before, have you? It's...." Petra trails off, suddenly aware of the weight of the revolver in her pocket. She did, of course, bring her gun into this arcade. It doesn't feel right to be without it anymore. Like it's a crutch, to "Make her tougher." Petra finishes the thought with an audible murmur. She tilts her face up at Kukuru, Petra's eyes unable to meet hers. "Kukuru? Are you alright?"
Kukuru	"Anime...?" It takes Kukuru a moment to realize that there's actually a name for the style, but she shakes off her momentary confusion and curiosity with another attempt at forced indifference. "... Yeah. It's just in case I ever need to do it for real." It's an unlikely scenario to ever come up realistically, all things considered. Petra's seen her use her hands before already, so a basic handgun would very well be a downgrade in most instances. Still, it's something she's finally started considering! Kukuru shakes her head slowly at Petra's question of ever firing one before, then turns her attention to the cabinet again as she pops a few more girls in the face and gets more of those questionably 'happy' noises in return. For a moment, it looks like Kukuru might be smiling slightly again, but only for a moment as she forces herself back into that unconvincing indifference. "You and Liza and Waters make it look so easy. I could figure it out, too." She takes a considerably longer time to answer Petra's last question, even setting the gun wand thing back down to try and keep her expression and voice steady again. She can't maintain eye contact, either. "I'm o... I'm fine." She doesn't sound fine at all, if sounding 'entirely not like herself' is the criteria.
Petra Soroka	Petra flinches. "No. I'm not like them. It's easy for them. It's not easy for me, and it shouldn't be. And...." Petra leans back against the side of the cabinet, propping a foot up on it. This conveniently both makes her look cool, and keeps the women on the screen in their various states of undress out of her field of vision. "...I'm sorry I shot you, Kukuru." The boys crowding around the neighboring racing cabinet perk up in confusion and start unsubtly listening in, giggling. "It, it hurts. It's not easy, and I didn't want to do it, even though I knew you'd be okay. I was... it's one of the things I'm trying to get my mind off of, today." "...You can talk to me, Kukuru. I'm not one of them, I'm not like that. It's... okay, to admit to each other, that neither of us are happy about the way that went."
Kukuru	"No... No, I guess not. They really wanted to be there, because... They thought what they were doing was right." Kukuru finally takes a seat with her prop gun still in hand, although she's finding it a little too hard to concentrate on the game when she's speaking with Petra. She keeps her feet down, but she sloouches back with her arms crossed under her chest. It's as much of a defensive gesture as it is just not knowing what else to do with her arms. "Me and Wisky and Yorkie did, too. Just about everyone did, but..." She looks over at Petra, finally making eye contact while pointedly ignoring their small crowd of observers. "... Why were you there? It didn't look like you wanted to be there, and it didn't sound like you agreed with what Liza was calling for. So... Why'd you do it?" Although she's trying to keep her tone even, it's already getting a little shaky, as though Kukuru's trying not to let herself get too worked up and starting to fail at it a little too quickly. "What did you really wanna... Want to do there? Were you that afraid of her? Why-" Kukuru pauses, reaching into one of her shorts' pockets and digging out a flask that clearly wouldn't fit in there, then taking a sip. It's just soda, but the fizziness helps her relax a bit. "Why didn't you ask me for help?"
Petra Soroka	Petra stops fidgeting, and stares out vaguely into the rest of the arcade, hand balled into a fist at her side. Petra opens her mouth, reaching for a defense, some way to say that of course she believed in it, or believed in something. That she knew what she was doing, somehow. Instead, she slides her back down the cabinet, sinking into a crouch on the ground. She crosses her arms over her knees and rests her chin on the bridge. "...How do you do it? Care so much about those kinds of things, I mean. I... it doesn't really matter what I choose. You and Grier and Father Berislav, and, and Rita, you guys believe in these things so strongly. Any one of you could've talked me into thinking you were doing good, because you thought you were. So how could I argue for any position over the other one?" Petra looks up in shock at the flask, her eyes darting over to the arcade staff window nervously. Even when talking about murder, she'll still more concerned with breaking social etiquette. "I mean. Yeah, I'm afraid of her. Grier." Petra rests her cheek on her fist, seeming to sink into herself. "But that's not why. If both arguments seem good, then, how could I choose the one that people would hate me for? That's it, really. My teammates. My side." Petra doesn't look up, staring into the carpet. Absently, she tries to count out how many copies of a certain yellow squiggle are repeated in the pattern in her field of vision. "You aren't just feeling bad because of me, are you?"
Kukuru	Like Petra, Kukuru doesn't answer the question right away. She stares at the cabinet, at the floor, at the kids watching them and visibly forcing herself to look away instead of greeting them like she usually would. Her hand does go up for a moment, but she stops herself halfway and ends up making it look like she's shooing them away instead. "How? I guess... That's just natural for me. Why does dog bark? Why does a mimic bite? That's part of what we are. I mean... I don't know about Liza or Beri or Rita, but I don't have to think about caring." Kukuru takes another sip from her flask, then goes quiet while listening to Petra's responses. Petra's fear admission has Kukuru's expression softening slightly, and she visibly struggles again not to just do what might very well be the natural thing to try and comfort her. Instead, she keeps her ass planted on that seat. "That's... Makes sense, I guess. You have your family, and I have mine. It... Had to happen, I guess." Kukuru shakes her head at the last question, going quiet again for a short while before pulling her own legs up to rest her head on her knees. "Nah... I just... I didn't want Liza to do something she'd regret never being able to take that. Siblings fight all the time, but not like that. Even if she sounded like she really wanted it, I..." She stops herself, picks up the prop gun, then starts pointing and clicking at the cabinet again. "... Nah. I messed up trying to care again."
Petra Soroka	The kids scatter, not being shooed away, but as if Kukuru's apparent dismissal of them is a threat somehow. They hop inside the racing game booth, wander a short ways away, or otherwise pretend to be occupied with something else. Petra traces a squiggle on the filthy floor with her finger. She stares at the carpet, and past it, eyes unfocusing to blur the pattern into unrecognizability. "Family? No. Allies. Family is something you have to earn. They haven't earned it for me, and I haven't earned it for them. I definitely haven't. I don't really know if I have any family, by my definition." Her forehead wrinkles with confusion, seemingly having forgotten something. "Well. My parents. They're family by default, so they don't count." Petra rubs her eyes, trying to refocus. "I don't think they were sisters, anyways. I don't think even Grier would've done that to her sister. They were allies, before, but not sisters." Petra raises her head and finally catches sight of the spectators. She smiles at them wanly, then tiredly droops back into neutral as she fishes the cigarette out of her pocket. She doesn't give the kids another look, as she lights it up, still sitting against the light gun cabinet. "You didn't mess up caring. You cared a lot. It's natural for you, like you said, you don't need to work for it. I do. I think I messed up, a little bit, by not caring enough."
Kukuru	"Earning a family? That's..." Kukuru lowers her prop gun, and she stares right at Petra. She desperately wants to tell her she's wrong, to reassure her through whatever made her feel such a way about the very concept of family, to show her how wrong she is in Kukuru's eyes. Her hand goes out briefly, and then she pulls it back. "... Maybe." Kukuru doesn't sound convinced. Instead, she just sounds extraordinarily tired, even for her. "By your definition. Thigns would be... Easier that way, I guess. Not having to think about anyone but the people you trust, or making people follow you by forcing them to trust you..." Petra talks about messing up, and Kukuru finally laughs. It's not her usual pleasant laugh, though, but another tired and somewhat bitter one. "That's... Right, huh? Liza did what was natural to her, everyone trusted her way of thinking, and it worked out really good for her. You didn't trust her, and I went with my gut, so maybe... Maybe what's natural to me is what's really wrong, then." Letting out another weary sigh, Kukuru gets up, and then she pats the cabinet. "Thanks for apologizing, Petra. I'll... Um. I'll see you later." She actually smiles briefly at Petra before turning to go, but it's another one of those intensely off and forced smiles.