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Remee Halcyon PHONE: Phoning Petra Soroka, Remee Halcyon clicks on. "Hey. Petra. You there?"
PHONE: Petra Soroka picks up the phone with a tight voice that sounds like she's holding her breath, "U-um. Hi."
PHONE: Phoning Petra Soroka, Remee Halcyon says, "Hey. Ah. How are you doing? Heard you talking so - not dead, right? That's good. Right?"
PHONE: Petra Soroka says, "Uh. Y-yeah. Um. Not dead. Yeah."
PHONE: Phoning Petra Soroka, Remee Halcyon says, "Great! Great. Right. So! Glad to hear you're doing okay. Was wondering if we could talk? In person?"
PHONE: Petra Soroka is silent for a few seconds. "...What for?"
PHONE: Phoning Petra Soroka, Remee Halcyon says, "To talk about... us. You kinda just left. Which is fine! If that's what you want to do!"
PHONE: Phoning Petra Soroka, Remee Halcyon, before Petra can respond, adds, "I have food. Like, restaurant food, with the kinda seasonings and stuff you like. Fried chicken, and mac and cheese, and some sort of... thing that's kinda like mashed potatoes and gravy, and - a bunch of other stuff, I just ordered like the three biggest meals on the menu, including cookies, right? You like cookies? I think?
PHONE: Petra Soroka says, "'Us'...? I-I was, we were just-- I mean...."
PHONE: Petra Soroka says, "You don't need to... do anything for me, you know."
PHONE: Petra Soroka says, "You don't need to try to bait me back."
PHONE: Phoning Petra Soroka, Remee Halcyon says, "Well, uh, I have all this food now, and it's just going to go to waste otherwise? I can't eat it all."
PHONE: Petra Soroka giggles, despite herself. "Only because it's got vegetables."
PHONE: Phoning Petra Soroka, Remee Halcyon says, "Please don't make me eat the vegetables."
PHONE: Petra Soroka cuts off her giggle and says quietly, "...Okay. Fine. I'll be there."
PHONE: Petra Soroka adds, before hanging up, "I'm sorry."

The meetup coordinates Remee gives lead to a somewhat remote camping area, out on the edge of a state park. There's nobody around, which is, probably the reason that she picked it. There's a nice clear parking lot nearby where Petra can land the Kana, occupied by just a single vehicle - a large pickup truck. (It looks new).

Nearby the parking lot, there's a set of picnic tables, one of which holds the wolf Petra would be here to see - Remee, in anthropomorphic form. Along with her are about a dozen different takeout containers, buckets of fried chicken, plastic bags full of individual sides, styrofoam car caddies of soft drinks, and a box full of cookies.
Petra Soroka     Petra disembarks from the Kana with a bit of a bemused expression, wearing her recent-standard of one of her two graphic t-shirts (yellow with a heart on it) tucked into a denim skirt. Her bomber jacket has a grey patch badly sewn onto one shoulder, her boots look like they've been taped back together, and she has a black eye and a limp. The glittery triangle scarf around her neck mostly conceals the dark red bruises that peek out above the collar. In the pockets of her jacket are the two bladed revolvers, poking through holes that their bayonets made.

    She scans the environment with jittery saccades, then catches sight of Remee and stops, looking at the ground. Petra makes a little show of not immediately walking over, trying to seem casual as if she's appreciating the park. She eventually ends up near Remee, and slouches against a tree, not sitting at the bench. Her voice is hoarse and scratchy, and directed partly at the ground.

    "...Hey."
Remee Halcyon There's a vague noise of concern from Remee as Petra comes into view.

"Ah, um."

"Hey."

The wolf watches as Petra makes her moves. It's not clear whether she's convinced or not, but... that might be because most of her attention, and responsive body language, is nearly entirely on Petra's physical state. Persistent wounds are something that only other people have to worry about, so that's already something Remee's not as used to seeing, but them happening to someone she's gotten used to seeing regularly and has a mostly static image in her mind of is another layer entirely. This is something she'd have been warned about by her family if she ever went to go date non-werewolves, but obviously that isn't in the cards.

Plus, Petra's hurt and Remee feels bad about it, not to leave that out.

"Right, ah, I have food!" she says, sitting back up straight, and trying futilely to act like she hasn't spent the last half minute staring at Petra. "Come eat. Especially the vegetables. Also the chocolate cookies. They're delicious, but I can't eat them, or I guess I can but I'd really really regret it later in a couple hours once my body starts breaking them down, and I'd rather not get myself hurt over stupid things, which makes one of us-"

She clamps both hands on her muzzle.

"Sorry, sorry, I'm rambling," she says, slightly muffled. "Please, um, eat."
Petra Soroka     Petra's wounds are much more persistent than usual, not that Remee would have the frame of reference to tell. The handprints on her neck look like they were left there hours ago, rather than weeks.

    As Remee starts talking, Petra, without tilting her chin up or moving from the tree, looks through her bangs at the werewolf, practically glaring. The comment about getting hurt over stupid things is let by with almost no reaction, other than a twitch of her lips.

    "...Remee. You don't have any obligation to feed me. We're just--we're just coworkers. Don't force yourself to stick around me any more than you already have."
Remee Halcyon Oh. Oh, this is not going well. At all. Is it backup plan time yet? No. Remee fidgets. It's not time yet. Things haven't gotten *that* bad yet. There'll only really be one shot at the backup plan. Best to save it as... a backup. Yes.

"Ah ha ha... I mean, I feed my coworkers all the time! I literally threw, like, two parties already! One of which even had a bunch of non-Watch people invited, though they also crashed the other party where they weren't invited when-"

Wait, wait no. Don't mention Lilian. Abort. This is a bad idea. Extremely bad idea.

"I mean, like, I sent a bunch of food to Stanley even, and he's a vanilla milkshake." ... Where did that come from? Vanilla milkshake? Nevermind, don't stop to self examine. Keep rolling. "I mean it got him in trouble-" No, wait, don't bring that up either. Only positive connotations with food. Get her seated, get her eating. C'mon. Focus. "- but nevermind that, the point is that we don't need to be close for me to offer food. Right? Food's important."

Remee manages a smile. Is this working? This isn't working. It has to be working. Is it not working? What if it's not working? Is it backup plan time? No. "My point is, if you don't like the thought of me offering food, tough?" Yeah this might work. Be a little bit direct, a little bit mean. Try this tract. "I'm gonna be feeding practically everyone in the Watch if I have my way, so it's not like it makes you special, right? So just... eat. You can't tell me you've been eating enough."

Remee pulls out a chicken leg and waves it over at Petra, as if trying to bring her over with it.
Petra Soroka     Remee's scattershot approach of option selecting every possible response to Petra's reluctance somehow completely misses her actual reason. Her eyes widen at "we don't need to be close", then her face sets in an unhappy mask.

    "It's not about you feeding me, really...." Petra whines, but stands up from the tree, pacing around the bench. "And you don't know if I've been eating enough. I could be--I could have found someone else." Petra winces after phrasing that in the worst way possible.

    "But, I mean. You don't have an *obligation*. I know you don't really *want* to do this. You shouldn't feel like you have to."
Remee Halcyon "Yeah, you say no obligation, but... well, you're..."

Remee turns a bit to keep track of where Petra is as she paces around.

"... Kind of..."

"..."

Remee decides, at the literal last moment, to not put voice to what she's about to say.

"Nevermind. Okay, well. If you don't want to eat, that's fine, I guess," says Remee, putting the fried chicken down. "I'll just say what I wanted to talk to you about..."

"... I think we should run away together," she says.
Petra Soroka     Petra's standoffish pacing hesitates when Remee puts the chicken down. She tries to hide it, but she mournfully glances at the meal, as if it was lost to her forever now.

    Then she stops completely. "...What? You can't possible mean that. What are you even saying?"
Remee Halcyon "I mean it."

"Let's just... leave, for a while. Take a break. Sort out our missions and ongoing efforts, find other Watch members who can take over that workfload, and just... duck out for a while. A couple weeks. A month, maybe two. Take a break." She said take a break twice. Nevermind, keep going. "There's this awesome beachfront resort. I mean there's probably a whole bunch of awesome beachfront resorts, we can go stay at a different one every week, and not have to worry about any cooking and cleaning, and there's this great healing spa I know that has minerals in the water, and we can learn how to meditate at yoga classes, and do a bunch of other stuff, and if you're gonna feel guilty about it I can just hire you as my assistant or something and actually give you stuff to do on occasion like handling the hotel bookings or ordering the meals? Basically simple little stuff like that that's not *actually* work but people get paid to do it anyway? You don't have to but we can set it up like that?"

Remee takes a breath.

"Because, um. Honestly the point isn't... where we want to go or what we want to do there. You know? The point is... I can tell that here, and now aren't working out. For you. Maybe in a couple months once you've recovered and maybe done some more preparation you come back here with me and together we'll get things on track in some... healthier way. But I don't think..."

Remee's eyes linger on the black eye, the bruises, the patched-up clothing - really, just Petra as a whole.

"I don't think you're working out. As an elite."

Remee should leave it there.

"I think, um."

Remee should really, really leave it there.

"I think as you are, you're... making things worse."

Stop.

"For everyone."

Stop, stop stop.

"Including me."
Petra Soroka     Petra is struck completely silent. She stares at Remee as she talks, heat building up behind her eyes. Petra's hands fall to her side, not crossed, or fidgeting, or shoved in her pockets for once. She looks a little silly, frozen in an awkward posture like that, staring without blinking.

    Then Remee pauses, and she blinks, and tears slide down her cheeks. Quietly, hesitantly, she opens her mouth before Remee keeps talking over her. "So... you didn't...?

    Remee keeps talking. All Petra hears is "grow up". "Stop being an impotent little ball of neurotic rage, and start being an elite". "Go home".

    Petra's eyes narrow, and she tugs at her collar while Remee stares at the bruise, glaring. Then Remee *keeps talking*.

    Petra looks like she's been punched. Not slapped, she doesn't look offended. She looks like Remee knocked all the wind out of her, her angry scowl collapsing, arms crossing defensively across her chest, stance tightening up.

    She opens her mouth and struggles for words for a few seconds, her shoulders trembling, and then a small noise works its way out and the floodgates break.

    "What the *fuck*! My *existence* here is making things worse? I--" She stomps her feet, uttering an incoherent frustrated noise. "Fuck! Yes! Of course it is! I don't *want* to hurt you, Remee! Why do you think I left!?"

    Petra clenches her fist too hard. Remee smells blood. She reaches up and rips the scarf off over her head, showing off the bruises. "Lilian fucking did this to me. While you were gone. And I did, I did worse, to her. Why the fuck would I run away now? I'm going to fucking *break* her, and break myself, and I don't want to glue myself to you and fill you with all the shrapnel that comes from that. Don't you get that? I thought that was why you *left* me!"
Remee Halcyon Blood. Remee's nose flares. It puts her on edge. The full extent of the bruises put her further on edge, and her eyes go wide.

She visibly takes an effort to calm down, and just as visibly doesn't quite get there. "You don't-"

Pause. Remee takes another step towards finding her center. She stands up, and takes a step back from the picnic table, getting clear of it.

"I shouldn't have left you. Because, since you clearly can't take care of yourself, you're my responsibility. And you don't get to decide that, I do."



"And - the archwolf told me something. About what to do with people you're responsible for, but won't listen to you."

"I'll tell you about it," says Remee, calmly. Too calmly. "After you wake up."

She draws, her right hand shoving into her greatcoat pocket and then pulling back out and firing all in one motion.

A dart embeds itself in the tree next to Petra, Remee's shot having gone wide. Something drips from the tip onto the ground below.

"... Heck," says Remee. "Heck, darn it..." she fumbles to try to pull another dart out and get it reloaded quickly.
Petra Soroka     "You *don't* get to decide that! No one does, but me."

    Petra is twitchy, prone to violence, and in the middle of a tantrum. Repeatedly, ever since her fight with Lilian and the Paladins, she's been on-edge, whipping out her weapons at any sudden movement. During her afternoon with Hibiki and Charlotte, she was bubbling with anxiety, almost unable to resist bringing her revolvers into a mall.

    Petra's fists are balled up, and she makes no motion to reach for her weapons. She flickers and stays in place when the dart whizzes past her, and opens her mouth in surprise, eyes wide.

    "R-Remee? What are you--?"

    Petra's hand spasms, and disconnectedly, like it's being controlled by two competing neural impulses, her elbow straightens out to keep her hand away from her pocket. She takes a step back, and flinches after a huge delay from the attack.

    "You're-- you're trying to *force* me?! Fucking-- let me make my own goddamn choices! You don't choose for me! You're not my mom, or my-- my gir-- my roommate, and you're proving you're not even my fucking *friend* either!"

    Tears pour down her face, her back pressed up against the tree where the dart hangs. She doesn't run, and as a stationary target, she'd have a hard time dodging another dart. Her glare locks onto Remee, seeming to dare her.
Remee Halcyon Remee fumbles the dart again as Petra talks, but she does get it loaded and gets her dartgun cocked.

"How do you think *I* felt?" she says. The gun is ready to fire, but she hasn't aimed it yet. She's holding onto it with both hands, but it's pointed at the ground - as is Remee's line of sight, as if she's glaring a hole at the ground near where Petra's standing, and certainly not meeting her gaze.

"That's - that's the point. I'm going to force you. You said it yourself, you're going to go try to break her and then break yourself afterwards. You're too weak to take care of even yourself, and I'm strong enough to take care of us both and then some."

"I thought - I thought I was doing it. I got you out of that stupid mech and into an actual apartment. I got you eating right, and wearing some new clothes."

"And when I come back all of that is just... gone. All of that progress. Like my efforts didn't matter."

And then she was alone. Remee had laid there, on the couch, for what felt like days. Remee should say that. Remee should say what she really wants, the things that are about her and not about Petra. The truth of how she really feels. All of that might help, so she should really say it.

She doesn't.

"I shouldn't have left. That's the problem, wasn't it? I left, and I wasn't here when all of this was going down, and it was my fault. All of this was my fault. All of this still is my fault, since I didn't go chasing after you right away when you ran off."

"But I can start fixing it, at least. I can stop this from getting worse."

She raises the gun. She doesn't fire. Yet? Ever? At least not now, not in this moment. "And that's... more important than being your roommate. Or your friend."

It's not. Not really.
Petra Soroka     "I don't *need* to take care of myself! You don't *get* it! Taking care of me is wasted effort, from me, or you, or anyone!"

    Petra's chest heaves, the sound of each teary breath ragged in her throat. She takes a step forwards, her left arm cocked and clenched and trembling, like she's holding back a punch from too far away to reach. Petra hisses through her teeth, the tendons on her neck standing out.

    "So all of that, living together, and learning to cook, and working together-- that was all just some sick project? Some gaslighting scheme to *fix* me without me knowing? I thought we were fucking *friends*!" Petra's stomach churns, the smell of food reminding her of her actual desperate need for it. Her abdomen is tensed with anger, forcing words out of her mouth and throttling her stomach's complaints, but her vision still swims with more than tears.

    "No. You were right to go. You couldn't *fucking* handle it, and as much as you wanted to control me, you weren't *strong* enough to. No one is. *I'm* the only one who can choose how to fix myself."

    Petra's standing right in front of the dartgun. Her trembling arm grabs the barrel, and points it directly between her eyes, glaring up at Remee. "None of this is worth keeping. None of it. I've been awful to you, and you've been awful to me, and that's my fault too. Let me fucking shatter everything going on here," Petra wiggles the barrel, pressing it against her forehead, "So you're not just trying to stack bricks up on a broken fucking building. Take me away from this, and I will make sure you and I suffer for it as much as possible. Let me do this. There is nothing you can do to stop me from getting worse."
Remee Halcyon Remee keeps the dart gun steady as Petra approaches.

She keeps herself steady as Petra reaches out and grabs the barrel. Steady-ish. Petra is... saying a lot of concerning things, isn't she.

Remee is starting to shake a bit.

She's fired once already. She just missed since - since her aim was off. The wind, or she drew too fast, or she needs to put more time in at the range with this model. Something like that. She fired once already, she can just squeeze the trigger and fire again.

Take the shot. Drag Petra out to the yoga, and therapist, and the beach, and take charge till she's... fixed? Better? Something. It's that simple.

If Remee wants to stop being the small wolf, she needs to take the shot.

If Remee wants to back up her words with action, she needs to take the shot.

If Remee is going to make up for running away, if she's going to stop just leaving her problems behind, if she wants to take responsibility and hang onto it, if she wants to actually keep someone in her life, if-

-

It's not immediately clear what happens. Petra's still holding onto the dart gun, so it doesn't drop, but she's now the only one holding onto it. Remee doesn't have any dramatic shapeshifting effect, so there's no sound, there's just a sudden lack of two legged wolf.

And Remee is very fast, and very quiet, so there's just a brief flash of gray disappearing into the treeline as she runs away again.

And Petra is left to her own devices, again.