Scene #8464: Reacquaintance

Owner	Pose
Tamamo	The coordinates sent to Petra's communication device of choice are to the address of a little shop in Fall that could easily be called 'quaint.' The colors of the setting sun reflect off the clouds and onto falling leaves, casting everything together with those clay and brick orange and reds. It is, at least, a public place, and though this part of town is on the quieter side, it's still active. A tea and cake shop, specifically. It's the sort of thing that would be called trendy, were it found in a larger city. Here, it must not be, since for all the activity elsewhere, and the waitress cleaning tables, the only patron is Tamamo-no-mae, already waiting in her voluminous robes, golden bells making the faintest sound when she turns her head, disturbing them on the chains hanging from her headdress. The tea is already served. There's a second cup and saucer clean and waiting, as if for a guest, though no second plate and fork. It would be very hard not to pay attention to that sight in a setting like this, though no one, including the waitress, is fussed about customers from out of town.
Petra Soroka	<B-anter> Tamamo says, "Ms. Soroka, I would like some time to reacquaint ourselves with one another, given recent events. Would you be so good as to meet with me? I shall send for you... tomorrow evening, perhaps." <B-anter> Petra Soroka says, hoarse and dry, "Y-yeah. I-I can-- yes. I-I'll be there." PHONE: Angela says, "Do you wish for us to have Agents on standby, Petra?" PHONE: Phoning Angela, Petra Soroka says, "For...?" PHONE: Phoning Angela, Petra Soroka says, "Oh." PHONE: Phoning Angela, Petra Soroka says, "For Tamamo. N-no. I'll...." PHONE: Phoning Angela, Petra Soroka says, "I-it's just a-a-a meeting. Tamamo is, is, someone who-- I don't need, protection, from Tamamo. There's--" PHONE: Phoning Angela, Petra Soroka says, "It's fine. It'll be fine." PHONE: Angela says, "You sounded anxious. ... That is why I asked. But I understand. This is important to you. Good luck." Petra approaches the tea shop as if walking up to the gallows. Her feet feel heavier with each step closer, matched by the growing dread in her stomach. She keeps trying to convince herself that nothing bad will happen-- or, if it does, that she deserves it and thank god someone is actually inflicting retribution on her for what she did to Lilian-- but that doesn't make the prospect of the conversation less instinctively terrifying. Petra felt the impulse to dress better and wash up in preparation for seeing Tamamo. She didn't, because she has no clothes besides the bomber jacket and jeans that she's been wearing, and doesn't need showers to stay clean, but the impression is there. As if she's going in for trial at court, or for a job interview, or meeting her partner's parents, or some deranged combination of the three. Petra takes a deep breath to stablize herself, with her hand on the door to go inside. MISSION OBJECTIVE: <B-anter> Lilian Rook says, "Be on your best behaviour." SUB-OBJECTIVES: Do NOT accidentally blurt out that you fucked her fiancee. Petra looks almost entirely stable, when she approaches Tamamo's table. The only indication of her frantic thought processes is the fact that, on this incredibly rare occasion that she doesn't look angry, her eyes are slightly widened, rather than narrowed. "H-hi. Tamamo. I-it's nice to s-see you." Petra carefully sits down across from her, back awkwardly straight upright. She folds her hands in her lap, unclasps them to unconsciously fidget, then folds them back together again, not quite meeting Tamamo's eyes.
Tamamo	There are some things that simply don't work on Petra, including what Tamamo considers certain avenues of communication -- but she's already aware of this fact, more or less, and so, she doesn't appear bothered by it. It would be so much easier, if an aura was enough, but... she's no stranger to doing things the hard way, either. "Ms. Soroka. I am pleased to see you on time. Would you like tea? You may serve yourself." There's exactly one bite missing out of the miniature cake on Tamamo's side. A pristine second and third of varying colors sit to the side, decked with sliced strawberries. "What was it that I said on our last meeting...? I suppose that I cannot remember. It was, to be sure, some time ago. Much has happened since then, has it not?" It's not that there's a threat in her voice. Not overtly, at least. It's what isn't there that's more likely to catch someone's attention. There are degrees of 'care,' positive or otherwise, that would reasonably be expected, yet are highlighted in their absence. "In fact, I cannot recall whether we were ever properly acquainted, though I am sure you know my complete name, if only from having heard it from another. Even during that business with young Oreshnika... ah, but there were many distractions at that time, I suppose. Furthermore, there is the fact that your own allegiance has since changed. Is this not so? I am quite curious as to that." Sliding her gaze around from the view of the windows to eventually land again on Petra, Tamamo takes a moment to bring her tea to her lips. She relaxes, but the air does not. The cup returns to its saucer. "Lilian has said that she would rather you not be harmed. Do you have any idea as to why that might be?" The waitress has disappeared. She must have finished cleaning up the other tables. Though it's still bright out, through those floor-length windows, there's no one in sight.
Petra Soroka	The permission to serve herself gives Petra something to do with her hands, so she mutely nods and pours some. She pulls the cup and saucer close, staring down into the rippling surface without moving to drink any. "W-well, last time we talked, was..." Petra's arrest, but that was more of a fight than a conversation. Before that was a brief glance of Tamamo coming to help Lilian at Eggman's assassination, before Petra passed out from oxygen deprivation. They talked a little in Bladecraft Connect, but that was Sterling, not Petra... was the last time really when rescuing Nika? They barely even talked then, either. Petra feels a chill run down her spine. "In fact, I cannot recall whether we were ever properly acquainted, though I am sure you know my complete name, if only from having heard it from another." "Yeah. Um. Tamamo-no-mae." Petra mumbles awkwardly, like she was expected to answer for a grade. "M-my allegiance? D-do you mean-- oh. Oh. Um. Yeah. I-I left the Watch. That's-- I did do that. Since then. I-it's a long story? Maybe not-- that long. If you want--" Petra's rambling cuts off when Tamamo takes her sip of tea. She sits in abrupt, complete silence, until the cup clinks back into its saucer and Tamamo addresses her again. "Um. That might-- d-did she not mention anything else? Th-that's, maybe actually, a little longer, a-and-- t-the short reason. U-um. I don't-- I'm not-- I-I don't want to h-hurt her anymore? Either? I p-promised. Her. I'm not-- not going to, to do what I-- I did, before. Like that. I want to h-help her. H-how much has she...?"
Tamamo	Tamamo speaks in a tone of correction, completing an incomplete answer, the grade it deserves being insufficient. "Tamamo-no-mae, bunrei of Amaterasu-omikami, She of the Pale-Gold Face, Goddess of the Sun. To be addressed, one may call me 'Tamamo-no-mae.'" The snapping tone is gone a moment later. '...d-did she not mention anything else?' "An 'unwitting pawn,' I believe it may have been? Something to that effect. She spoke as if you should not be faulted, or as if your punishment had been completed for what faults were yours. Is that not strange? Truly, my Lilian is far too kind a girl." It's not as if she could have failed to notice the stuttering fear. Someone would need to be be especially blinded to hear this as an ordinary conversation. With an admission of wrongdoing, however indirect, and a promise to be better, it would be perfectly reasonable to show sympathy. It would, as well, fit the image Tamamo has cultivated, for her to show care for someone so obviously unthreatening. "That could not be, could it? For her to return in such a state, for her to be so hurt by her every meeting with you, and then to declare you to have served your sentence... is that not impossible? Even in Arbuda, the first of the Naraka, one must spend a century in blistering cold for every sesame seed within a basket the weight of their karma, that they may then be cleansed. For how many centuries have you yet repented your actions? Have you so little shame that you would think to offer your 'help' so quickly?" She's not angry. There isn't a single mote of passion beyond incredulity in her words. It's as if her eyes, the light catching on their gold, are beholding something far less than human. She could only be doing this on purpose -- unless one instead reached the conclusion that Petra really wasn't to the level of a human. That could explain everything, too. How unfortunate that there's no one around to offer any other perspective on this topic. The shop isn't closed, and yet, no one is about. "Of course, I understand," Tamamo continues, having not waited long enough for one to form a coherent response. "Even so, all these things being true, it would still hurt her should she feel your death was in some way her own fault, no matter how indirectly. She might even worry, out of that abundance of kindness, should you simply disappear, even having done nothing to deserve her. It falls to me to take such preparations as will benefit her safety, including the handling of dangerous and untrustworthy elements that cannot be easily removed from her sight. You understand this, of course." She still has tea left. That's a good enough reason to take a breath, a slow sip, and tap one sharp-nailed finger against the table while looking into the distance, as if still considering what preparations those may be. That it provides space for someone else to think is incidental.
Petra Soroka	Petra's posture had slowly sunk from its original rigidity, but when Tamamo's tone sharpens, she sits right back up. She stiffly nods in acknowledgement of the correction, and suppresses a little shudder. The full weight of the title is especially smothering, with Petra unable to ignore the lack of spectators. How much of it is intentional? -- who is Petra kidding. She knows it's intentional, and it's working. "For her to return in such a state, for her to be so hurt by her every meeting with you, and then to declare you to have served your sentence... is that not impossible?" Petra winces and hunches her shoulders, pushing her hands between her thighs. Completely silent so she doesn't disrupt Tamamo, she nods her head a little. "For how many centuries have you yet repented your actions?" Again, a mute little head shake, to timidly agree, 'not enough'. It was just two months of jail time, wasn't it? That's not even half as long as her campaign against Lilian, much less the fifteen years she was supposed to have. 'Helping' and 'suffering' are two separate aspects of redemption-- Petra knows, she could devote her life to doing the former, but still not deserve it without the latter. Petra has so completely and automatically fallen into the role of being scolded that she doesn't even attempt to interject during Tamamo's brief pause. She waits, silent and still except for tiny head movements to acknowledge that she's listening, barely even breathing, like a deer in headlights. Once Tamamo reaches for her tea, Petra slowly raises her face, eyes still not quite able to lift high enough to meet Tamamo's, settling on the teacup instead. NEW OBJECTIVE: SURVIVE (Do NOT accomplish this goal at the cost of either other). "Um. Y-yes. I-I understand. She-- I-I-I-I-- centuries? I'm-- I don't really-- get that long. A-and I don't want to-- to not be able to-- to leave her-- I don't w-want to be useless f-for that-- that long." Petra squirms in her seat, rolling her clenched hands between her thighs. "And I-- th-this isn't a-- a defense, of me, or anything, but I-I think she would b-be hurt i-if I disappeared at all. So I... don't want... yeah."
Tamamo	'I don't really-- get that long.' "Of course," Tamamo says, "living humans can rarely afford such a path, and the means to most easily do so are considered, by some, to be less than savory." Lilian had told her more, but she isn't mentioning anything that might give Petra a reason to relax. Every denial of an escape path is intentional. 'I think she would b-be hurt i-if I disappeared at all.' "Did I not say as much?" Tamamo's eyebrows rise, for a moment. "It could be that, with the passage of time, she might forget... but that route is entangled within ill fates. It is a thorny briar to be navigated, and we have other methods." The full attention of the bunrei is now focused across the small table. "You have stated your intent, and you know you have yet to earn a place from which to stand and make your attempt. You know, further, that any reasonable mind would regard you as a danger, especially to her, and one undeserving of trust, after all that has been done... and for so little reason as you had." That sound was probably her clicking her tongue. "And yet, you have cause to rejoice. I will provide a measure of safety. By this I mean, of course, a measure of safety from you, for the sake of others. It will only require your unfailing obedience, upon pain of death. Such is a usual -- in fact, traditional -- form of geas. With this, there will be no need to consider your own trustworthiness. The magic will know when the contract is broken, even should I not." The talisman she pulls from her sleeve isn't so unlike the others she uses that an amateur can spot the differences. The color and texture of the ink might be different. There might be a faint scent of someone's blood. Not fresh. "Your cooperation in this matter is ultimately unnecessary, though I will do you the favor of allowing it." Tamamo carefully folds the talisman, again and again and again. The seemingly brittle paper somehow holds, until the result could fit on the end of one finger. "You have tea remaining, do you not? Swallow this. It shall take effect upon your realization of its terms."
Petra Soroka	"You know, further, that any reasonable mind would regard you as a danger, especially to her, and one undeserving of trust, after all that has been done..." Petra deflates a little, hanging her head. Not out of defeat, like she was convinced of anything new; she's relieved to hear Tamamo say it. Had literally anyone else, other than Persephone? Even Lilian herself was constantly downplaying the harm that Petra did to her, so Tamamo stating outright how awful Petra had been is reassuring, when everyone else was so happy to brush it aside. "It will only require your unfailing obedience, upon pain of death." Petra finally looks up at Tamamo's face, eyes wide with surprise and sparkling with the metallic precursor sheen to tears. Her first gut reaction is that this is a comically mild punishment-- in her mind, that was already assumed on top of whatever Tamamo was going to do. Her expression slowly stiffens into fear as the complete nonspecificity of the terms sink in. Is this like, a lifelong thing? Is she giving up her free will? That's basically signing her soul away to the devil, that's-- insane, there's no way she-- Petra quietly takes the talisman and lifts it up, fingers wrapped into the handle of her teacup. She blinks, pauses, and shakily opens her mouth. "Um. D-do-- um. This is-- is that, um, all? J-just, doing-- whatever Lilian says, for--" As the stuttering sentence leaves her mouth, the enormity of it hits her, and her voice dies in her throat. The room sways around her, eyes looking down her nose at the paper pill between her fingers. Taking this is just signing up for a life of fucking servitude! To Lilian fucking Rook! She was her mortal enemy two months ago! She threw Petra in solitary confinement and tortured her for months! She-- Petra's already swallowing the pill, teacup held in both hands. She looks dizzy for a moment, then slowly sets it down. "Y-yeah. Okay."
Tamamo	Metallic tears aren't enough. Would any tears have been? No, but Tamamo is thankful that the form Dimo left to Petra lets her be so easily read. "Very good." It doesn't sound very good. It sounds like an acknowledgment of obedience, and it is. It's not as if Tamamo was giving Petra a choice, but she could still have fled, at this point. She might have broken out of the trap, if she'd really tried. Maybe it's more pleasant to imagine she could have, and that she freely chose this fate, instead. Rather, she did choose it. That's objectively, technically, true. 'J-just, doing-- whatever Lilian says, for--' "Oh, are you not misunderstanding...? Ah, but I have not yet explained. I shall do so, now." The aura would be there, if she could feel it. A pity she can't. The beating of the Sun on stone, on sand, on withering fields. "Petra Soroka, you will tell nothing of this meeting but that we did meet for tea, without mention of the terms placed upon you. You will put all your effort into fulfilling any request that I make of you, should I call your name and ask 'would you?' You will tell me no lies, whatever I request. You will do all of these things, and should you not, this curse will take form, draining, freezing, and stopping your heart." The moment after she finishes speaking, when the words are heard and processed and their meaning understood, is when the magic takes effect. There's no lasting sense to that understanding, though there is the lasting feeling of 'something.' One might feasibly forget a geas, break it, and suffer its consequences. It's not like a physical shackle, in that one can't tug against it. That 'something' of a feeling settles down in Petra's belly, where the pill-like paper was swallowed. "Now, I do wonder as to why you... oh, my." Tamamo's smile is soon hidden by her sleeve, but reaches her eyes, even it isn't what one could quite call 'happy.' It's 'a kind' of joy. "Were you imagining her holding your leash? Yes, that would be on your mind, would it not? Ah, how pitiful. It would hardly do to give you such slack in your bindings, no? My Lilian is far too kind, too generous, and too caring, or we would not find ourselves here. No, your leash must be held by one who will not be mistaken with you. Is that not sensible? Oh, but if this motivated your obedience... it makes no difference, now. Petra." Not 'Ms. Soroka.' "Would you kindly offer me your blood? Here, the tea has been finished. You may use my cup." Tamamo pushes the emptied cup and saucer forward, then fishes for something in her sleeve. It's a stopper vial.
Petra Soroka	"You will put all your effort into fulfilling any request that I make of you, should I call your name and ask 'would you?'." "H-huh? W-wait, what--" Petra's breath catches, and the heat settles in her core, scorching and all-encompassing for the brief moment it takes hold. Her face tinges grey with fear, and she anxiously rocks back and forth, then leans forwards, struggling for words. "Were you imagining her holding your leash?" Petra flinches and opens her mouth to deny it, then hesitates when she realizes that doing that might literally kill her now. Is it a technicality if she wasn't imagining a leash specifically? How does this work? Petra just opted in to a punishment that kills her immediately without Tamamo's input if she slips up once on the vague rules, before even knowing what those rules would be. She slowly closes her mouth and sits back, trying not to hyperventilate. "Petra. Would you kindly offer me your blood?" There it is. Petra feels like she's teetering on the edge of a cliff with those few words, with the knowledge of how simple it would be to just not do it and die, right there. The same feeling as every time she was clutching the knife in her cell, holding it an inch from her neck, or innumerable times the thought crossed her mind before, even casually, when glancing at her gun. The problem is, of course, that now she has a reason not to jump. Somehow, that doesn't make the call of the void any less strong-- apathy landed her on the cliffside 50% of the time, but choosing forces her to effortfully make up for the other 50. Petra, after a brief hesitation, pulls Tamamo's cup closer. She presses her lips together, eyes darting between the cup and Tamamo's stare, then awkwardly raises her arm up above the cup, forearm pointing downwards, and waits for the morphmetal blood to trickle out of her sleeve. It doesn't. Her reactor is as silent as it can be, a relaxed hum, because despite the hovering threat of death, Petra isn't actually in the mindset to fight. She blinks in surprise, her other hand hastily darting up to grab her forearm and squeeze it, as if trying to force the blood out. "I-I'm sorry. This never happens." She shoots a worried look at Tamamo, as if this delay would be enough for her to be disobeying the terms, then surreptitiously pulls back her sleeve, just a tiny bit. The edge of one silver hatchmark, sliced across her wrist, gleams in the shop's light, and Petra shakes her other hand, forming a thin metal razor in it. She prods at the wound with the edge of the razor for a moment, to coax bloodflow back out of it, then holds her wrist over the cup, letting it drain out. "Um. M-may I ask what you-- need it for?" Unless told otherwise, Petra lets the entire cup fill up to the brim before sliding it over to Tamamo.
Tamamo	It's too late for regrets -- unless one would rather the curse activate immediately, of course. This would fulfill Tamamo's promise to Lilian, not to visit any harm on Petra she didn't invite. Quite neatly, she's free to invite fatal harm at any time. She could even call up Tamamo just to lie to her, if she wanted a moderately quick and far from painless death. Unaware of Petra's thoughts, Tamamo hasn't given the scenario much consideration. 'I-I'm sorry. This never happens.' "Oh... really?" The cup fills halfway before Tamamo says, "That is enough." After any risk of splattering has withdrawn, Tamamo unstoppers the vial, takes the cup, and carefully transfers the blood from one container to the other. It's soon sealed up again. 'M-may I ask what you-- need it for?' "Blood is among the strongest materials for sympathetic magic, and the others are rarely spoken of in polite company." Matter-of-factly. "This, too, is a form of insurance, a chain to bind you. One who knows those old rituals, and has more than a drop of your blood, may find you wherever you hide. And so, is that not convenient? You have no means to resist, and none to escape, save death." She says that almost like she's done Petra a favor. "With this, it is no longer unreasonable to offer you some chance to atone for your past sins, however long these efforts shall require. Of course, there are... events that could transpire, should I be less than vigilant. Ah..." Tamamo pauses there, her expression faltering for the first time, though again her sleeve hides part of it. Her eyes are narrowed, tensed, downcast, before she glances upward. "What a trial that has been, to gather up the pieces... if I had noticed, in time, she would not have..." Trailing off, it takes several seconds for her attention to return to the here and now. Brightly, "And so, there you have it! I believe I have taken enough of your time for today, but let us meet again. My, but we simply must find you some new clothing, at some point." When she gets up to go, she leaves the cakes. The waitress has reappeared, and is glancing the way of both women, but looks wholly unbothered.
Petra Soroka	"You have no means to resist, and none to escape, save death." Petra's thoughts wander back to the space station Watchhouse, where she lived with Remee. The base that Remee set up for the pair, specifically meant to be difficult for Lilian to track Petra down to, after she showed up in her hotel suddenly. Months and months of working against Lilian, treating her as a threat and then pushing her buttons until she actually became one. And now she's handed Lilian's girlfriend a permanent tracker and leash that kills her if she tries to run. Petra nods, a little dazed, as if in agreement about it being a favor. "Um. Events?" Petra shakes her head and refocuses when Tamamo moves to get up to leave. "I-it was-- good seeing-- catching up-- um. It. I-I'll see y-you later, th-then?" Petra moves to stand up when Tamamo does, feeling some intrinsic wrongness at being the only one sitting down, but she glances at the cakes longingly. "I-I'm-- going to have a job soon, I'll... it's, I'm going to get clothes. And an apartment. S-so I'm... yeah."
Tamamo	'Um. Events?' "In the unlikely case that you take advantage of a moment's inattention on my part to work some mischief I had not thought to warn you against, I shall be quite cross. Oh, but you would not do this, would you? Of course." 'I-it was-- good seeing-- catching up-- um.' They really hadn't. Tamamo hadn't even asked how she was doing, but that's fine. After all, plenty of other people will ask those questions. "It was, as I hoped, a productive conversation," is what she says. 'I'm going to get clothes.' A pause in her step toward the door. Her head half-turns. "If you are quite certain you require no assistance in becoming... presentable." A lengthier pause. "It is good to have a plan for one's next steps. I shall wish you a modicum of luck, perhaps. In the meantime... do expect to hear from me."