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Owner Pose
Petra Soroka     In the central hub of the space station Watchtower where Petra and Remee live, a kitchen is warmly anxious with the energy of a Girl Cooking. The counters are cluttered with more dishes than should have been necessary, the air is warm with a preheated stove that sat ready long before the dish, the fragrance of garlic and onion fill the space of the small cabin. Petra stares intently at a casserole dish as she spoons mashed potato over top of a shepherd's pie filling, tongue absentmindedly poking out of her mouth as she tries to evenly spread it.

    Smacking the spoon against the dish to dislodge the last of the potatoes, she double-checks the recipe open on her phone and hums in affirmation. "Okay! It's ready to go in the oven. The side that I sort of crosshatched, in the potatoes, that's yours. It doesn't have any veggies in it." Both halves contain veggies, but she's hoping that the brown homogeny will conceal them for long enough that Remee will eat it.

    Petra puts on both oven mitts, opens the oven and winces at the rush of hot air, then nervously puts the shepherd's pie on the rack. She steps back and admires it briefly, then closes the door and sets the timer.

    "Remeeeee, could you do some dishes while I relax?" Without waiting for a response, Petra wanders over to the couch and flops onto it. Pulling out her phone, she flicks through a dozen open tabs, of articles with titles like "History and Role of Maids In Earthlike Worlds" and "Proper Servant Etiquette -- Manor Life in Edwardian Times", until she gets to a shopping page for dresses, idly browsing.
Remee Halcyon "Sure, sure, I'll be right there!"

Remee's had her share of Roommate Problems, but 'not doing the cleaning up' has never been one of them. She's rarely left a Watch safehouse any dirtier than it was when she found it (and often much cleaner). She gets right onto the dishes without complaint or hesitation.

"So! A fighting tournament, and a fashion tournament?" she asks, as she runs the hot water. "Which do you think you're going to do better in?"
Petra Soroka     Petra distractedly provides a drawn out "uhhh" in response at first, attention caught by a particularly nice looking dress, which she bookmarks. "Oh, yeah. Well, the fashion tournament was more like, the entry to get into the fighting one? We had to dress Ishirou up to be allowed to register for the combat part. That's why I needed your card."

    "But, um, I sort of just phoned that one in, since I just wanted to register for the combat. Maybe made some bad decisions because of that." Petra doesn't elaborate for a minute, scrutinizing every angle of the classically designed blue maid dress on her phone. Then, with no lead up, she blurts out, "Hey, Remee, do I have a nice ass?"
Remee Halcyon Remee fumbles the dish she's washing, but manages to catch it.

"Sorry, is this about a boy?"

"I think it's... fine? If you're that worried about it, you could join me on my morning runs?" she asks.
Petra Soroka     Petra inhales sharply and her face flushes pink. "What? No! No. It's..." She trails off and puts her knuckles up against her mouth, sighing through them. "That stupid third competition? It's a... well, you saw the, thing, that I bought?"

    Petra dramatically rolls her head to the side on the armrest of the couch. "Some fucking, pompous crossdressing pervert in the Paladins, who I'd never even *met* before, started insulting me because he thought I was still homeless--and who even *does* that. And then, when I pulled out that, you know, that outfit, for Ishirou to wear, the creep challenged me to a *maid competition*!"

    Having riled herself up again, Petra drums her fingers on the couch, trying to calm down. "And for some stupid fucking reason, I said yes. In front of everyone. So now I need to buy a maid dress, for some freak's fetish show."
Remee Halcyon Remee is silent and motionless for a bit, the only sound coming from the kitchen being the water flowing out of the tap onto an already cleaned dish.

After a few moments, she self-consciously turns the water off.

"Have you..."

"... Considered saying no and backing out?"
Petra Soroka     Petra pauses for a moment, then explodes with indignation. "He talked about it on the *public band*! He contacted *reporters* over this fucking thing! King Gilgamesh and fucking *Lilian* are involved! Lilian is judging it! What am I even supposed to do about that?!"

    She groans, grabs a pillow and shoves it into her face, and rolls around on the couch in agony. "It's so stupid. I can't back out, and I *absolutely* can't lose to a *man* in women's clothing." She pulls her face out of the pillow and looks over to the sink. "Hey, you're rich. Did you have maids? Do you have any... I don't know. Guidelines? Etiquette? Tips?"
Remee Halcyon "Well, I have a PR department," says Remee carefully. "Or I mean, my company has a- I meant to tell you about- nevermind." That was going to be *her* big announcement tonight. She decides to just mention it later instead.

"What I mean to say is, yes, we had maids and butlers and gardeners growing up, and..." Part of the reason *why* she's here is due to how her family treated the staff. That's another matter she should talk to Petra about sometime. Lots of things she has to tell Petra. Too many to get started on sometimes, it feels like.

"We also had to learn how to cook and clean on our own, especially for our individual rooms, but the manor's common areas had staff, yes. Um. Don't... speak unless spoken to, I guess?"

Remee rubs her face. "Would it help if, like, I could get someone to craft you a very nice professionally written letter withdrawing you from all of this? Maybe including a little gift for - or, wait, no gifts, nevermind."

"It... does sound like you've gotten yourself way too tied up into all of this? In maybe some unhealthy ways? And - um, I'm worried now. Yeah."
Petra Soroka     Petra glosses over all the things Remee meant to tell her about. This is Petra troubles time, not Remee troubles time.

    That one piece of advice hits debilitatingly hard, though. Petra winches as she remembers the earlier radio conversation.

<B-anter> Lilian Rook says, "There was almost an entire week where you weren't constantly rattling apart from the sheer pressure of deranged little brain problems constantly oozing out of every seam."
<B-anter> Lilian Rook says, "I was wondering if you were planning something, even."


    She is, to be fair, planning something. But that's unrelated, so it still stings. Petra rolls over and lazily props herself up on the couch, eyeing Remee with a bit of displaced hostility stirred up by recalling Lilian's words. "That's, I mean, that's a start. But I kind of need something more actionable, like, actual behaviors. How to sound maid-like. Lilian's definitely got some of her own, I think, so she'll absolutely notice that kind of stuff."

    "And I totally don't want out of the competition. I mean, I do, but I won't. So many people are, for some fucking reason, hoping that I lose, so I can't. And backing out is the same thing as losing." She sighs, buries her face in her hands, and softens her tone a bit. "I would've taken you up on that a few days ago. Before he announced it to the entire sector."
Remee Halcyon Remee's hairs stand up on the back of her neck when Petra gives her that look.

"... Well, um, I disagree with you on that part, about withdrawing being the same as losing..."

Note to self, do not offer Petra a management position in Brick House.

"... But alright. I think I've got something."

Remee leaves the dishes aside for the moment, and goes over towards where she's stowed her gear bag, zipping it open and withdrawing something from it.

"You *aren't* going to like this, but if you're serious about wanting to stay in this... competition, then yes, there's something major I think you're lacking that I can help you with. But you won't like it. Are you sure?"
Petra Soroka     Petra huffs (and puffs) with annoyance. "It's the same in this case. They'll all be like "oh, you must think you're too ugly to beat a man in a dress in a fashion competition", and stuff like that. Everyone would be insufferable for weeks. I'd rather actually lose than back out."

    Petra's back to flipping through her phone, pulling up all of her bookmarked dresses to show Remee. "If it's an outfit, then I've actually got a bunch that I'm considering, if you want to check them out with me. Actually, why would you have one of those with you here?" Petra looks up to see what Remee's holding.
Remee Halcyon "Are you *sure*," repeats Remee. "That you're trying to actually win this, and this isn't just some..."

Remee tries to find the right words, fails to find the right words, and settles on the wrong words. "... Petra thing?"
Petra Soroka     Petra is struck briefly speechless, mouth hanging slightly open. "...*Petra thing*?! What do you *mean* by that! I want to win because it'll be intolerable for me to lose, and other than that I have absolutely no interest in anything this stupid contest stands for."
Remee Halcyon "... Well, not quite the response I was looking for... but good enough."

"If you truly want to get into the mindset of a maid, Petra Soroka..."

Remee reveals what she's hiding in her hand. It's a red rubber ball.

She winds up and tosses it acrosss the room, where it bounces off of the far wall and then comes to rest on the floor, squeaking softly when it impacts.

"Fetch."
Petra Soroka     Petra nods firmly. This is her thing, now, for some reason. She's getting into the mindset of a maid, at any cost, because of a series of events that she's rapidly losing track of.

    The cost is revealed. Immediately, the burden weighs on Petra's shoulders like the incalculable gravity of the earth. Her face drains of color, and she stares at Remee with disbelief, eyes not tracking the movement of the ball at all. She balls her hand up into a fist, clenching it tightly enough that her arm trembles, phone clutched in her other hand.

    She slowly wrenches her jaw open with a shuddering breath, and then--Don't speak unless spoken to.--shuts it, face bright pink. With tense, robotic motions, not meeting Remee's eyes, Petra stands up from the couch, and stiffly walks over to where the ball landed. She hinges her waist to bend over, picks it up with her hand, walks over to Remee, and holds it out. Petra's face stays firmly turned away from Remee the whole time, and a teary film glitters over her averted eyes.
Remee Halcyon Remee reaches out and takes the ball.

She... not so much stares, as *glares* at Petra.

"Now."

"I want you to imagine. That this isn't just our suite here, in privacy with just the two of us, but in front of however many people this thing is going to be in front of."

"And that it's not me here, but Lilian."

"And that it's not asking you to retrieve a ball, but..."

She squeezes the ball. It squeaks.

"The worst thing Lilian can think of to put you through."
Petra Soroka     Petra trembles rigidly in place, teeth gritted and every muscle tensed like she's about to snap. She's silent and unresponsive through Remee's warning, not looking at her, moving, or even seemingly breathing, until Remee finishes talking. The silence hangs in the air for a moment.

    "...Well?" Her voice is squeaky and rough at the same time, sounding like it hurts as it pushes out of her throat. "Do it again. I need to get used to it."
Remee Halcyon "..."

"..."

"No, actually, throwing the ball is tiring."

Remee drops her hand to her side.

"Get me a glass of water. Now."
Petra Soroka     Petra's face turns darker red, and contorts angrily, then petulantly, then nearly breaking into tears. She exhales built up pressure out of her nose and wipes her eyes with the back of her hand.

    Breathing back in, she pulls her posture properly upright, stiffly walks to the fridge, then freezes. Rotating in place, she turns to the cabinet next to the fridge, opens it to retrieve a glass, then turns back to the fridge. She glares into the water dispenser as it slowly fills up the glass, then brings it over to Remee.

    "Y-your w-water. Ma'--" Her voice chokes in her throat.
Remee Halcyon Remee takes the water.

She looks at it.

She looks at Petra.

"Okay I..."

"... *Really* can't do this."

"..."

She rubs her face.

"I am... *really* not comfortable with this. In... a lot of ways. Can we just stop things and talk?"
Petra Soroka     Petra hovers next to Remee, staring into the floor. She's already tensed in anticipation of whatever her next trial is, taut with the effort of holding herself together.

    She looks up at Remee in shock. The rapid motion propagates down her body, breaking the rigid posture, then back up into her face when she promptly breaks into tears. "You suggested ittttttt!!!! You made me! And now you're just giving up like that! Oh my *god* that *sucked*! Remeeeee!"
Remee Halcyon "No, wait, I-"

"I don't mean-"

Oh, this is bad. This is *really* bad.

"No, look - it's not you, it's me-" No wait that's a worse thing to say. "I mean-"

"I asked you if you were sure!" Bereft of other options, Remee ends up going on the offensive. "I asked you, if you were *really* sure, and then you got offended at it being called a Petra thing-" wait maybe she shouldn't bring that up again "- And then you went along with it and you started acting like I was torturing you for getting me a *glass of water* and before that you were being really really intense about getting the stupid ball..."

She's still holding onto the ball. She squeezes it, hard. It squeaks.

"And I'm just trying to keep you from making this huge stupid mistake of going up in front of everyone and Lilian playing you like you're a string instrument, like literally all she has to do is reach out and-"

The red ball *pops* from Remee squeezing it too hard. She barks in surprise, and startles her into losing her momentum.
Petra Soroka     Petra squirms in place, her arms wrapped together and tucked tightly against her chest, lightly stomping the ground.

    "*Yes*! You asked me if I was sure! Now *you're* chickening out!"

    She whines and sniffles, staring at the ground. "Of course it sucked. That was the whole point. To get me used to it, so it hurts now, at home, rather than in front of Lilian!"

    Petra squeaks in time with the ball, an incoherent noise of embarrassment and frustration. She cocks one knee and rubs her thighs together, the tension working its way out of her system slowly and agonizingly.

    "I *know* it's dangerous! I know. I appreciate that you care, and I-I know that this is stupid. But, but if *everyone* is expecting me to fail like that, in that exact same way, then withdrawing now just lets them imagine how I'd fuck up and embarrass myself. And they'll imagine worse than what I'd actually do, and then they can just assume it'd be true!"

    She sinks down into a crouch on the floor, gnawing on her knuckle. "If I back out, everyone validates their opinions on me however they want. If I don't. And I win. Then they *have* to change them."

    The ball pops with a bang and Petra squeals, biting down hard on her knuckle accidentally. A small red spot of blood appears, and she rocks back and forth clutching at her finger and whining.
Remee Halcyon Remee takes a breath.

"... Can we..."

"... talk about me, for a second?" says Remee.

She drops the remnants of the squeaky ball, and reaches a hand down.

"Let's get dinner served, eat something, and - there's some things you need to know. That I was going to tell you about eventually, I mean, but there's-..."

Her nose wriggles. "Do... you smell something burning?"
Petra Soroka     Petra tilts her chin up at Remee with teary eyes, blinking like she's been scolded.

    "H-huh? Yeah. That's... we can...."

    She struggles to her feet and shakes out her legs. "Nothing should be burning!" She sniffs the air, but because she doesn't have a doggy nose, doesn't detect anything. "Well, it should be done now, anyways.

    Petra opens the oven and squints inside. Sloppily poured mashed potatoes left smears on the outside of the dish, and a few particles dripped down the sides and onto the bottom of the oven to turn to charcoal. She crinkles up her noise in annoyance and sniffs, going through the process of retrieving the dish and taking out bowls to serve it in.

    Even though her eyes are still bloodshot and puffy from crying, she hums to herself while plating the shepherd's pie, carefully extracting servings from the dish in a way that keeps the aesthetic structure intact. Once it's ready, she brings two bowls to the table, and presents them proudly.

    "Dinner is served!"
Remee Halcyon "Alright! Food makes everything better, you'll see."

Remee is a big advocate for food as a cure to all sorts of things, from colds to anxiety to obesity.

Remee practically wolfs her serving down. "Mmmh. It's good." She doesn't seem to have noticed the vegetables. Mission accomplished.

"So, feeling better, I hope?"

"... And... I never told you about why I left, right? I mean, I talked about the broad strokes, but..."
Petra Soroka     Petra settles in, and takes a few bites of her food before frowning. It's still underseasoned. Petra wanders over to the counter, grabs salt, puts a little in her bowl, and then repeats this circuit a half-dozen more times with different spices.

    Consequently, she's barely started eating by the time Remee's done.

    "Ummm. Mmm. No, you just said that they were evil and rich. Did... something specific happen?"
Remee Halcyon "So we - that is, the family, mostly my aunt, caught some of our staff stealing from us," says Remee. "Skimming off the top. Ordering extra supplies and then selling them. That sort of thing."

"I can't say for sure if it was true or not, I... honestly have no reason to believe it wasn't true. It still didn't make what happened next right."
Petra Soroka     Petra makes a sour face in anticipation of the answer.

    "And, um. What was that?"
Remee Halcyon "We had a purge."

Remee takes a breath.

"We pulled aside everyone who'd been involved, plus anyone else we'd found that had been taking things, or that, really, had done minor offenses."

"Told them if they made it to the end of the woods, they'd be free, everything forgiven."

"... None of them made it to the end of the woods."

Remee glances to the side. "I was sixteen. I want to say I didn't know any better, but..."

"... I still took part."
Petra Soroka     Petra takes another bite of pie, chewing slowly. Her eyes slowly slide from her bowl, to the scraps of the rubber ball laying on the floor.

    "...Oh. Yeah. I see."
Remee Halcyon "Yeah. So."

"... That's... kinda what started the domino chain that lead to me joining the Watch. It wasn't *just* that, but..."

She glances at the rubber scraps.

"I mean, I'd killed people before that day, sure, but some of those that we forced into the woods were people that I liked. There was one gardener, especially..."

She shakes her head.

"So trying to be mean, even if I'm not *actually* being mean, to someone who's doing services for me, is..."

She shakes her head again. "It... starts getting extra uncomfortable."
Petra Soroka     "...Yeah. That, um. Sucks."

    Petra takes a sip of her water and winces. "That really sucks. I'm, I'm sorry. Your family is really awful."

    Petra is silent for a moment, engaged in some internal struggle, and eventually managed to get out a few more words. "I'm, glad you're here, now. That you didn't end up, staying one of them. A-all the rest had that choice too, but you, actually took it."

    Petra picks up her spoon, holds it in place, then lowers it back into the bowl. She stares into the light reflecting off of it, as if hypnotized. "I get it. I'm. Sorry I made you uncomfortable, like that. Bringing back memories."
Remee Halcyon "Thank you."

"..."

"If you're still set on this competition, I'll pay for the dress and the tailoring and all that, but..."

Remee takes another breath.

"I think... I'm gonna hold off on watching it, if that's alright."
Petra Soroka     Petra giggles, a quiet flash of hysteria creeping into it.

    "Well. At least one person in the Multiverse won't be."

    Relaxing a little, she resumes working her way through her hard-fought meal. She glances over at her phone while chattering, and briefly considers asking Remee about her maid outfit choice tonight.

    Nah. It can wait until later.