Scene #8323: Two Creatures Go To The Zoo

Owner	Pose
Petra Soroka	Many of the thousands of non-Earthlike worlds in Sector Zero have gone along unrecognizably different evolutionary tracks, full of animals that are unimaginable on Earth. A few of these worlds even have fauna that won't kill you on sight. Petra has invited Rita to one such world. A ways away from the warpgate is a sprawling outdoors enclosure, its miles-wide diameter encircled by a shimmering, translucent fence. Within it, the natural landscape takes on a tinge of artifice, though not so much that it becomes jarring. A distinctly purposeful variation of environments are scattered throughout, forests melting into grasslands into savannahs into small mountains, freshwater and saltwater lakes with currents that lead to nowhere pocked across its surface. At each gated pass through the fence are ticket booths, providing entry into what could loosely be described as a petting zoo. Alien fauna of all sizes lives comfortably and safely within the enclosure, roaming freely within their biomes, and plaques reassure the visitors that all of the animals have had their genetic information rewritten to view bipedal figures as nonthreatening. This means that, at your leisure, you can approach any animal, large or small, and pet it! Signposts throughout the zoo exclaim, in what may be a gaffe on the part of the multiversal translation effect, with big bold letters above a simple image of a person on all fours: "PLEASE DO NOT GO CREATURE MODE" Petra waits for Rita outside one of the gates, leaning against a tree. She's wearing her typical bomber jacket and combat boots, under which is her recent and unsettling trend of a blouse and denim skirt, with her glittering green scarf around her neck, concealing her bruises. One arm is still in a sling, but her other limbs seem to have healed.
Rita Ma	Rita arrives in something not completely unlike Petra's outfit- a white cropped jacket open over a pink sundress apes the bomber jacket and the silhouette of the blouse-and-skirt- but that broad similarity only underscores the differences. Petra's still vaguely butch, Rita's decidedly femme. Petra's beat-up, Rita's- Feeling called out by those signs. Right out of the ticket booth, Rita's eyes fall on one. Her lips pull and brows sink in an uneasy, murky expression. Anyone else watching would take it as umbrage with the translation. Maybe if she knew Petra's watching, she'd guard that expression more. It's replaced by shock a moment later. She suddenly notices Petra (even though she hadn't made a sound?) and wheels around, shaking off her shock for a sunny smile and waving above her head before girly-jogging over. "Ms. Petra!" she shouts, as soon as she's in earshot. Then when she's close enough for sotto voce: "Did you tell me you were hurt? I thought it was just a sore throat. If I knew, I'd have brought some more medicine! Hold on, I still think I have some painkillers..." She tries to rummage, discreetly, in her leather satchel. If Petra peers, she might spot a couple of thermoses and a small lunchbox within.
Petra Soroka	Petra's eyes do flicker up to watch Rita's expression change when she sees one of the signs, her own face steady and neutral. She doesn't call attention to herself or shift until Rita notices her, immediately plastering a smile on her face and waving. As Rita jogs over, Petra drops her cigarette on the ground, casually stomps it out, and tries to call back to her, straining her voice. "Rita! Hi! I'm fine, really, I--" Her throat constricts and her words die in a hoarse rattle, and she twists around to painfully cough away from Rita. Between coughs, she tries to reassure her, "It's just--it's--fuck--I'm okay. I just don't heal fast, haha." She shakes her head at the offer of painkillers, but pulls her metal water bottle out of her bomber jacket pocket. At this distance, Rita can see the tips of two heavy knife blades piercing through the pockets and poking out. Petra winces as she takes a sip, then clears her throat. "I-I thought this place would be fun. You know. Since it's all kinds of animals that neither of us have ever seen before, so it's like, equal. Did you want to go anywhere in particular first?" Petra unfurls a brochure map of the area that shows where each biome is and describes events held in them, and she gestures it towards Rita.
Rita Ma	"Are you sure? You sound really rough, Ms. Petra. And you look really rough- I mean, I love this outfit! But what happened to you?" Rita's level of concern ought to feel obnoxious, but it's so tender and earnest that it's hard to resent. Defeated, her hands leave her satchel to ball up fretfully over her chest. "Even just some cough drops?" While Petra rummages in her jacket, Rita's eyes fall to the cigarette on the ground. She looks baffled as she crouches to pick it up; she doesn't say anything, but her naïvete means she isn't polite enough to keep her nose from wrinkling at the smell. Another smile washes that away, though. "You're right! I love it already. You're really good at picking places for our trips, Ms. Petra. Maybe I ought to be used to nature and animals by now, but... usually I go to places for work. Getting to relax in a place like this still feels new." If this doesn't count as nature, she doesn't know the difference. Rita stands back up with a little 'hup' to lean sideways against the tree, peeking around Petra's arm at the map. She reaches out to tap it with her finger. "It's a little embarrassing, but... could we go to the freshwater lake, Ms. Petra? I've never seen that much fresh water before. I want to know what lives in it." Her lips purse. "Do you think they'd let us go swimming?"
Petra Soroka	Petra's smile droops on one side, lopsided and exhausted. "Yeah. I'll take some cough drops. They do help a little, though my hyoid bone's still broken, haha." Her short laughter sounds like someone failing to start the smallest motorcycle, rough and practically inhuman with its syllables. Rita's motion to pick up the cigarette butt has Petra flinch and her face flashes with--not embarrassment, but irritation, while Rita is turned away and unable to see it. "That's--that's just trash. You don't need to pick it up." Shifting back against the tree, Petra idly kicks at the bark with the bottom of her boot. "Yeah. I was talking about the same thing, with some, friends." She oddly emphasizes the word friends, the vague nature of the word feeling forced. "About not going out to see any parts of the world without it being for work. I wanted to change that, so I thought of you." That sounds a lot like a date, right? Petra's listless expression doesn't contort into an angry, defensive blush like it might usually, though. She just stares indistinctly into the energy fence. Rita's decision puts a smile back on her face, and Petra heaves off the tree and spins back around to look at Rita, teetering a little. "Yeah! The lake sounds good. Though, you know, I won't have any idea what lives in it either. I could guess some traits, maybe, just evolutionarily...." As the pair walks through the bare suggestion of a path and scattered trees become dense forest, Petra makes a small laugh and taps on her sling. "I probably can't, at least. And I, obviously don't have a swimsuit. I don't even own one anymore." She looks strangely at Rita. "Did you bring a swimsuit?" The freshwater lake is a full fifteen minute walk through the woods, chattering noises and rustling leaves setting ambiance with the cool mist that clings to the girls' faces. Petra shrieks and points with excitement as a mossy boulder off to the side of the path shakes and uncurls, revealing insectoid eyes and mandibles the size of her arms. Other creatures, small, colorful, and fuzzy, dart around them, curiously bumping up against their legs with no regard for personal space. The forest opens into a clearing, and the freshwater lake winds around in a rough L shape. Various animals, from green foxlike creatures with six legs, to elephantine beasts with telescopic necks drink from it, and shapes can be seen darting around under the surface. Petra sighs, some unmentioned tension draining out of her, and sits down on a rock by the lake to rest her feet.
Rita Ma	As they walk through the woods, Rita gets a cough drop from her satchel, averts her face from Petra, and only then tears the plastic wrapper off with her teeth. It's offered to her with a sunny smile. "Oh, does it decompose?" she asks innocently, glancing back down at the cigarette in her other hand. "It's so amazing how the earth can clean itself like that. On a ship, things just keep getting dirtier until somebody cleans them. So everyone has to pitch in." If not corrected, she tosses the cigarette over her shoulder. "Thanks so much for thinking of me, Ms. Petra. It's incredible here." "I don't even own one anymore." "Huh?" A baffled little frown crosses her face. Rita turns to look at Petra, thumbs hooked into her satchel's strap. "Didn't you have one at that party on the boat? Did it get damaged or something?" Then she puts up both her hands in a defensive panic: "N-no! No, of course I didn't bring one! I just thought... well, um, I forgot. That I didn't." Awkward silence ensues. The more monstrous creatures get as much of a girlish startle out of Rita as they do out of Petra, if not more, but she takes to the little fuzzy ones immediately. It's easy to tell she's never owned a pet by the timid way she bends down and pats them, but after the creatures dart away, she's practically glowing and pleasantly humming to herself. That mood boost lasts her all the way to the lake. She ooohs and aaahs at the terrestrial creatures from a respectful distance, pointing at one of the big ones when it sticks out its neck- "look, Ms. Petra! it got longer!"- but maybe it's inevitable that she ends up at the water's edge. Crouching down, Rita looks past her own smiling reflection at the darting shapes below. As the quiet moments pass, the smile becomes soft and solemn, but doesn't completely go away. "Ms. Grier isn't going to shoot you," she finally says. "I talked to her. She's really protective, but... I know you wouldn't hurt me, Ms. Petra."
Petra Soroka	Petra isn't actually sure if cigarette butts decompose, but she nods anyways. "Yeah, they do. I guess that's a bigger difference than I thought, right? The self-healing nature of the planet. Lots of living and inorganic things are like that, really, it's a bit weird to me that the Kana doesn't rege--" She cuts off her thought, scuffing the ground with her boot. The swimsuit topic isn't particularly welcomed either, by her body language. She shrugs, and apathetically says, "I don't know. I don't have it anymore." Petra seems genuinely happy watching Rita pet the creatures, her energy returning as they walk through the forest. She kneels down on the ground, motions for Rita to watch, and then holds out her arm for one of the rat-like animals to scurry up her arm, across her back, and down the other side, giggling as it does. Petra doesn't move to join Rita at the edge of the lake. She stays on her rock, knee propped up by its geometry, arm draped across it. She's silent for a few seconds, and her voice is hoarser than it was when she talks. "I had--I'd thought you were ignoring me. Like she asked. When everyone stopped talking to me, for days. I know a few days isn't that long, but... after everything..." Petra sniffles, and chokes a little. "I thought you'd chosen her side. I thought I was alone. Maybe she's right, and I should be." On that flat remark, Petra bends her neck down with a hiss of pain, pulling the scarf off her head. She leans back, the bruises still in sharp relief, as angry as they were the day Lilian put them there. "She's probably right. Everyone would be better off if I wasn't around. If she heard about us talking right now and put a bullet in my head, I think the world would be better. Especially Lilian." Petra can't help touching her bruises with a finger as she says that. Below the water, a shape rises up curiously to peer back at Rita. Turtle-like, but covered in otter fur. Its beak is elongated, piercing through the surface of the water expectantly while its body remains safely below.
Rita Ma	"I thought I was alone. Maybe she's right, and I should be." "Everyone would be better off if I wasn't around." If this were any other form of distress, given words in any other way, Rita would rush to comfort Petra. As it is, the impulse to comfort is still there. But she doesn't move from her spot. Her back is turned, but Petra can see her shoulders draw together in a tight flinch; might still see Rita's reflected face curl into a queasy grimace. It isn't until 'put a bullet in my head' that she jolts up to standing, drawing in a quivery breath like she's just been winded. Her fists squeeze into little balls. "Ms. Petra, that's not--" When she turns around her eyes land on the bruises, and that knocks the breath out of her again. When she re-gathers her words, the urgency's passed; she looks droopier. But her eyes still glisten with the beginnings of tears. "Ms. Petra... please don't talk about yourself like that. You've always been good to me. I'd be worse off, if you were gone. Sometimes I still feel like that, too, but- there's always someone. Someone who'd miss you." She offers a hand to help Petra stand, with a nauseous-but-brave smile. If it's accepted, she leads her over to the water's edge, and then puts Petra's hand atop the otter-turtle's head. "And look," Rita says. She blinks the tears away, and they end up glittering in her eyelashes. She strokes the fuzz-turtle's back, further encouraging Petra to pet it by example. "You can always start mattering to someone else, too, Ms. Petra. Just choose to reach out to them, and they'll be glad you're here. Don't the animals look happy that you're here?" It's a little desperate. But it's heartfelt. She has the sniffles to prove it.
Petra Soroka	There's a dull glimmer of satisfaction in Petra's eyes when Rita flinches. It's not happiness, or comfort, just the fleeting relief of pulling a crank and watching mechanisms slide together. Petra stares glassily at Rita as she talks, smiling in a helpless, lopsided way when Rita says that Petra's always been good to her. After a moment, she takes Rita's hand and squeezes it, slowly standing up and trudging to the water silently. She crouches down and lets Rita rest her hand on the turtle's head, and looks down at her reflection in the water, distorted by the slight waves. "...I'm sorry, Rita. I don't think I've been very good to you. Reaching out for me doesn't make people glad that I'm there. It hurts them." Petra's hand traces down the turtle's head, onto its neck, lingering there. "The animals here tolerate me because they're broken. That's all. And people are different, anyways." Petra rocks on her feet, tilting forwards enough that it seems like she might fall into the water. She shivers, and tears slide off her face into the lake, ripples shattering her reflection. Words croak out of her damaged throat, almost unwillingly, speeding up with desperation as she talks. "I wanted to just hang out, for a bit. I wanted to have one last nice day with you, before everything comes out and you never want to talk to me again. But I just feel so, so awful, and so guilty that it makes me sick." Her fingers tremble around the turtle's neck. "I'm sorry. I've ruined it already."
Rita Ma	"You have," Rita says, in quiet desperation. Her smile is sincere but thin. "You've given me something nobody else could give me, Ms. Petra. Not Ms. Rook, not Ms. Grier, not anybody else." "You let me pretend to be normal. You let me have a normal friendship. Even though I'm really sick. Even though I feel like... like a 'freak'." Her eyes drop to the ground. In her reflection, her bangs cover her eyes. "They'd never say it. But I know they could. And that changes everything, doesn't it?" "... before everything comes out and you never want to talk to me again." A bleakly sympathetic giggle escapes Rita. She tosses her hair, showing her eyes again. "I don't know what you mean, Ms. Petra. But I know the shape of it. ... I want a world where we're friends. Where we're together. So whatever comes, I'll try to work towards that. Okay?" "If everything came out for me, I think you'd do the same thing." Her hand glides down Petra's arm; her thumb hooks inside Petra's, gently uncurling her fingers from around the turtle's neck. There's no urgency in the disarmament. She knows Petra would be hurt by the implication, if there were. "Here." That arm slips behind Petra's legs; the other wraps around her shoulders. Then Rita effortlessly stands up, hoisting Petra into the air in a princess carry. She smiles her sunniest smile, and even though it must be a little forced, it doesn't look that way at all. "If you want a nice day together, I'll make sure you have one. And I'm not giving you a choice in it, so there's nothing to feel guilty about. Because I do want you here. And you don't think I'm broken, do you?" Rita adjusts her grip, briefly- somehow- supporting Petra in just one arm. She uses the other to filch the brochure map and unfold it with a swish. "Let's go to the mountains, next! I bet they have a really nice view. We can watch the sunset together- how does that sound, Ms. Petra?"
Petra Soroka	"Not Ms. Rook, not Ms. Grier, not anybody else." Petra quietly gasps and teeters back and forth, suddenly dizzy. She tries to swallow a sob, but more keep coming, wracking her body as she hangs over the lake. "B-but, but, you're not..." Petra struggles to put the instinctual denial in her into words. 'Not a horrible person' is feeble. 'Not like me' is too lonely to say. 'Not a freak' is.... "... 'Normal' is such a different word between us. Almost all of my friends have been normal." Petra giggles a little. "And they all sucked. You're important. You're special. I'm still just, normal." "Where we're together." Petra flinches at those words, and exhales a shuddering breath at Rita's hand stroking down her arm. Her hand shakes, like she's trying to faintly resist Rita's attempts to detatch her grip from the turtle's neck, or like she's barely holding back from squeezing as hard as she can. The end result, no matter the thought process, is just her fingers being stiff and cold in the air wafting off the water. Petra's hunched and rigid posture is broken immediately when she's swept up in Rita's arms, involuntarily letting out a surprised squeal. Looking at Rita directly for the first time in minutes, Petra's face is wet and blotchy, drained pale to make the bags under her eyes and bruises stand out more. Her lips part slightly in surprise, and she stays still for a moment before pink rushes in to replace her pallor. "W-w-wait, what are you doing? Rita? Ri--ta...?" Petra's breath hitches in her throat and she trails off when Rita smiles. She stiffens up and instinctively reaches out her arms to grab around Rita's neck when shifted to being held in one arm, then freezes and pulls them back, wrapping them around herself. "...Is that really okay? To have a nice day, even when it means lying? I--I know, hiding things can be more honest, but.... I don't feel honest. I never need to look, and never ever will, but you'll... hear, eventually. How many steps backwards can I take until the world where we're friends is out of sight?" Petra peels her arms out from their tightly crossed position, deliberately, and slowly softens in Rita's grip. "Is it still being selfish if you want it too?" She leans onto Rita's shoulder, and wraps her arms around her neck. "I'd really, really love to watch the sunset together, Rita. At least we can do that for today."
Rita Ma	Rita's smile shrinks just a tiny degree when Petra pulls her arms back. There's a wistful, mournful (mis)understanding in her eyes. But she doesn't say anything. "...Is that really okay? To have a nice day, even when it means lying?" "If I couldn't have days like that," Rita says, "I don't think I'd ever get by. If you feel dishonest, we'll just have to have enough fun for you to forget that feeling. How does that sound, Ms. Petra?" She holds the map-brochure in her teeth to support Petra in both arms again, then signals by sticking out her neck and making a little 'mmm!' noise for Petra to take the brochure back. This time, she trusts Petra not to look too closely at her mouth. Rita's path takes her along the lakeside for a ways, then through the forest again. The sky's starting to turn pink at its fringe, tinging the landscape a soft gold. She's not in a hurry, though. They'll still catch the good part. "It's like the sunset too, isn't it?" she eventually says, while ducking under a low branch. "That dishonest feeling. Even before the light goes out, you know the night's coming, and that casts a color over everything." "But you shouldn't let it take your joy away, Ms. Petra. We'll have so many more days like these. Even if there's a hard night between now and the next one. I promise." It shouldn't be feasible to hike up the rocky mountainside while holding Petra. Rita manages with ease anyway. She only sets Petra down when a nice place comes into view: an outcropping facing west, framed by trees. Rita sits next to her, bathed in golden light, knees drawn up against her chest. "I still wish I were normal, sometimes. No, a lot of the time." Rita smiles ruefully into the sunset. "This isn't how I wanted to be important. It's not a happy kind of special." "But... there's a couple reasons I can't say I regret it. And one of them is meeting good friends like you, Ms. Petra."