Scene #9282: Sparks to Cinders

Owner	Pose
Audrey Basque	NOVA HELIOSANCTUS DORMS, 1:30 AM, AUDREY'S ROOM Audrey texts \| Hey Petra? I had been meaning to ask. Actually... Are you free right now? This might be better in person. And after all that on the radio, I cannot sleep. It is a bit delicate. Well, even if you do not want to answer... having a roof over your head instead of marshes all around might feel nice? Audrey, her blazer just kind of dropped on her couch, sits on her bed and lets herself fall backwards onto it, holding her phone up to wait for a response. She couldn't sleep, even if she wanted to-- and she does, if her tired expression is anything to go by. Now she has to figure out a way to mend this mess with Sarracenia somehow, too... the last thing she wants is a rift between her and other Partners, regardless of who they are or what they allegedly tried to do. Maybe Petra'll know what to do. But maybe she's busy. Or doesn't have signal where she is. "Ah... what a pain. At least nothing is due tomorrow, and there's no tests... I'm struggling to juggle three balls and she's been doing five or six this entire time. This really wasn't..." A sigh, and she doesn't finish her thoughts.
Petra Soroka	Petra, in a rare instance of inattentiveness, was not listening to the radio for once. Instead, she was sitting in a park in the Grand Dorado, talking with her poor beleaguered personal assistant assigned to her by the Concord, about potential resources she might want to take advantage of in the future, and eventually, that topic led into 'higher education'. So, late at night, as Petra is getting ready to leave the Dorado where she would definitely have some luxury room to sleep in if she asked to go instead spent the night in a forest somewhere, she gets a text. Petra texts \| :sticker_DoggyOKSparkle: It's not a great message to get, though. 'All that in the radio', 'I can't sleep', 'better in person', 'meaning to talk', sounds incredibly ominous-- especially the idea that the fucking radio had something to do with it. It's entirely possible that Petra being otherwise occupied was an opportunity people took to talk shit about her and scare Audrey with horrible stories about her, which would be fair, all things considered, but it still makes Petra unhappy. So she doesn't bother to actually check the radio backlog either. Even though it's expected for people to be calling her an evil pervert freak murderer psycho who'll corrupt you and ruin your life behind her back, Petra would rather not hear it right now. She occupied her thoughts with idle imaginations of going to college instead, in a scenario that's actually meant to accomodate her insane lifestyle. A little while later, Petra tap-taps on the door with her knuckles. She's wearing a hoodie and jeans, to half-heartedly obscure her identity somewhat for Audrey's sake, though no one else on campus ever wears something like a hoodie, so all that really does is make it harder to tell she's 'Petra Soroka' specifically. It's warm enough now that she shucks the overlayer off the moment she's inside Audrey's room, though this time she came prepared with a t-shirt underneath to spare Audrey the horror of her immediately undressing when the door is closed. "So, what's up? I brought snacks." Petra holds up a big bag of chex mix; not stored in her mirror, just grabbed in the warpgate hub on the way over.
Audrey Basque	Should've gone for the throat. Day one. ... no, that's awful. I wouldn't. Maybe we can sort it out. Oh she defends us a couple times and now it's ambiguous? No... The taps snap Audrey out of her thoughts. She rushes for the door, and happily takes Petra's hoodie off her hands to put it on the coach so it's easy to find, giving the best smile she can this late on a weekday. "Oh! Snacks! Yes, that would... I wouldn't mind." It takes her a moment to remember how to close that. "Thank you." Better. She shuffles back towards the bed, sitting on its edge; plenty of room for Petra to sit if she wants to, but the couch is also over there, if she moves the blazer and now the hoodie too. "So... sorry, this felt like maybe... I'll just ask... someone said," she doesn't say who. "That you... that Sarracenia might have been trying to... that you got between us, basically. A-And I don't know if I believe that was her intent, and honestly, the less I think about that horrifying idea the better, but... was that actually it? Do you feel you got inbetween?" No, Audrey's dancing around the pot. There's something else on her mind. If it was anyone else but Petra in the room she's be able to smile and claim there isn't, and it'd pass-- but not her. The question's been burning her mouth for weeks now. It was never the right time to ask. It probably still isn't.
Petra Soroka	However weirdly delayed Audrey's response to the snacks is, Petra doesn't seem to mind either way. She scrubs at her eyes with the back of her hand and yawns, wandering over to follow Audrey by sitting on the ground next to the bed rather than joining her on it. She tucks her knees up to her chest, ankles crossed, leaning her head on the side of the mattress and looking up at her. "Man, it's pretty late here, huh.... Don't you have class tomorrow? Or--" She glances at the nearest available clock. "Today?" As Audrey slowly fumbles her way through 'someone said', Petra winces, ready for the worst. It was a semi-automatic process at this point, but she wonders if maybe she shouldn't have gotten so comfortable right when entering Audrey's room, knowing that some sort of Talk was coming. She chooses to leave the chex mix untouched between the two of them, until whatever 'it' is gets out. But then, Sarracenia. Petra blinks, and looks at Audrey with an incredulous expression tinged with sympathy. "Oh, god. I thought I made it clear-- I mean, yeah, she's just... like that. Her only two goals as an Elite are to cause problems and get laid, and she's never once succeeded at the latter. I mean..." Petra sighs. "Really there were any number of things that I could've imagined her doing, but yeah, that was the biggest one. Uh... it wasn't... annoying that I did, was it? Sorry." Petra's hesitant downturn in emotion at the end of that thought is slightly spurred on by sensing that Audrey has something 'more' she wants to say. 'You're being weird and clingy' is a very easy thought for Petra to assume is on her mind, so she preemptively braces for it.
Audrey Basque	So she had. Well, it was clear, but, hearing it again... "I see. I don't know her very well, and I would have surely rebuffed any advances made if that were the case, but... thank you." No that sounds wrong. "Thanks." Bit better. At least that should answer the question of whether it was annoying or not. This one thing definitely wasn't. On the list of Audrey's annoyances, Petra barely registers! Protecting her is hardly a sin. "And yes, I do have class," she says, looking at the clock briefly. "But I can make do with a bit of sleep before then. It's not important, or a test, and I've handed things in already." She fidgets with a bit of her hair, clearly dancing with words in her head to figure out the best way to ask something. And when she finally settles on how... "Petra... who was Cinder, exactly? That first night you came here, and since then, her name has come up a lot. People telling you they're sorry. Your voice breaking when she comes up. It's obvious you two were really close. I thought about asking Angela for more than that, but... that felt wrong." She hesitates to ask, but finally does: "Would you tell me? Would that be okay to ask of you?"
Petra Soroka	"I don't know her very well, and I would have surely rebuffed any advances made if that were the case, but... thank you." Easing up a bit from the reassurance that, at least, Petra's probably not about to be told to fuck off, she snickers lightly. "Well, you say that, but... she might've gotten you on her airship. High up in the air, over that dangerous jungle... who knows what you might've said. Because of the implication." She folds her arms on top of her knees, angling her legs so that when she stretches them out a bit, they avoid brushing up against Audrey's. That was a pretty dark joke, for Petra, and made darker by the fact that it's entirely plausible in her mind for it to have happened that way, so she follows it up with a little sincerity. "... Yeah. Sure you'd stand your ground when you're in your right mind, but... I don't really think anyone is in their right mind when they're alone and surrounded by other people. The difference between one and two is infinite, I think." Small talk about staying awake too late for school dies immediately after one exchange. It doesn't come naturally to Petra, really, and thinking about the words makes them feel odd and alien, though-- she might have to think about the same for herself soon, if she follows through with college. That thought, 'considering the future', drags Petra's mood down without Audrey even needing to do anything, sinking like a rock in the water with a dull weight in her throat. And then, "... Oh." Petra really thought this came up already. She feels like she must have talked about it, but in the blurry haze of emotionally-smeared memory, she can't place any specific instance, and that makes her feel like she confabulated talking about Cinder with Audrey, and that makes her feel even worse. Surely Petra put down enough context clues-- but if she didn't? Has she seemed too much like someone whose girlfriend didn't die? Isn't that awful? "Ah. Uh..." Petra swallows. "N-no, it's... okay. It's just... Cinder was my girlfriend. She... died during the, stuff. The war. Well, technically, right before it. But it was the war. Um...."
Audrey Basque	The idea Audrey would fall that easily almost seems to upset her. If not personally, she has to at least take indignation at a blow to her reputation. "I assure you, my morals and my upstanding rightness are princess-proof," Audrey protests, with a gentle jab but also a kernel of actual offense. Just a smidge. "That is... I've got enough on my plate as it is, anyway," she adds, relaxing a tad. But then things have to get serious. She asked, after all. "Y-Yeah, I... I mean, from the context clues, I had guessed... something bad had happened. Some people used the word sacrifice, and you've said..." <B-anter> Petra Soroka makes a noncommittal noise. "I guess they definitely would've preferred I died too, yeah." "It's... made you say some really scary stuff, sometimes, and I kind of... I don't know how to ask any of this, because this isn't a good subject, and it's never fun to talk about, and..." <B-anter> Petra Soroka says, "That's exactly what'd make it so convenient. When I'm dead, all the shitty miserable things I did would get to go away with me, and they'd all have an easier time going to you with their hands behind their heads saying how I forced them to do all that, and how much they couldn't stand it, just like they did during it all." "I'm worried. That this awful thing that happened to you follows you like a specter, and its hands are always around your throat, and some people keep telling it to squeeze harder, and then you..." "I was a pr-prosthetic put in place t-to solve a problem. Dr-dragged along resentfully until I was needed, then st-struck like a match and left to b-burn all my bridges away and turn to ash. Just like... just l-like Cinder. I won th-the war, I saved A-Angela, just like L-Lilian wanted, and n-now I should just disappear." "I'm sorry that this is awkward. It's been on my mind for a long time now, and it took this nonsense to make me want to hear the whole story. From you. So when you're unhappy, I understand exactly why, and I know what not to say in response. That's dumb, right? But... would you entertain that?" She stands up, only to sit back down next to Petra, back against the bed but keeping a respectable inch or two of distance. "I'd understand if you didn't want to. I don't get to just ask this of you randomly and force you into it. But I wanted to at least say that... I'm just worried."
Petra Soroka	"... The whole story. Right." That there is a 'whole story', and that Petra is haunted by something badly enough to require worry, and be confusing to interact with, and need this kind of delicate conversation from someone she only recently met, is still something that sits strangely on her self-conception of her psyche. Obviously, looking back, she's been that way for a while-- even with Cinder, early on, Petra had the vertigo of her expected dynamic being flipped, being the more experienced, more harrowed, more alien one. The separation between her younger self and her existence now is so sharp and dissociative that, in some ways, she feels like she's been 'this way' longer than she hasn't. But still, it makes her feel sick. Dizzy, repulsed, bent at the edges like a puzzle piece forced out of place, the wave crash of her thoughts rears and splatters in every direction before she even has the time to open her mouth, and it chokes her with the sudden certainty that somehow, some way, there's something innately wrong about recounting it all for Audrey. Parasitic and attention-seeking, pitiable, laundering other people's suffering for sympathy just because Petra's the one who happens to be here in front of Audrey. She's already done enough of that during her tantrums before. Petra's throat closes up, and she tightens her knees to her chest again, looking away from Audrey. "... It's... but it's not really... I think being 'worried' about me isn't...." Petra takes a slow breath to try to get her thoughts in order. "It'd be... unfair of me, I guess. To talk about it all like I need sympathy, or... like it was bad 'to me' just because I'm the one telling it and you weren't there for... the actual context of it all." "It was-- it was my fault, kind of. I... there was a breach. During Ayin's Meltdown. One of the new Abnormalities we hadn't seen in the previous loops, so we didn't know anything, and... it was, ridiculous. Wiped out half the-- half the facility before we even knew what was going on. White Night, it-- we tried to fight it, I looked at the Enkephalin readings, and...." "... We couldn't beat it. Not before-- not before Angela died. And reading the data, I found... that a d-different suppression method would work. Sacrificing just... one of us, and for various r-reasons, it could only be... me or her. Cinder." Petra's voice is rough and low, hiding her eyes from Audrey, but it doesn't sound like she's about to burst into tears this time. "... Everyone chose her. I chose her. I-I was the strongest one in the facility, and we couldn't k-kill it, and I-- I read the data, I gave us the option, a-and-- and I didn't... f-fight her on it. Not as...." Even saying it now, 'not as hard as I should have' can't make it out of her mouth, because... it still doesn't ring true, and that makes her feel even worse.
Audrey Basque	Audrey listens. In the grand scheme of things it's all she can do right now. She's obligated-- by having asked. But she needs this, too. A piece of her that just wouldn't be able to sleep, not this time at least, without an answer. A piece of her she used to be able to push in a box and silence without second thoughts. A sliver of her that could ruin the rest, easily. Petra tightens her posture up and she looks away; Audrey's face falls a bit with the concern she'd already stated and then some more. How much of a mistake was this? On a scale of one to ten... She feels like she's on that mountain again. Facing Hiromi, alone, like an idiot. There's a lot of little statements she wants to stop and address-- the way Petra doesn't want sympathy, and this isn't that, the way she thinks it's wrong to think of it as something that happened to her specifically, even when it so very clearly is. There'd been so many context clues. The way Petra is always saying 'if I'd died instead' or how the notion of choice and sacrifice is a factor. But when Petra says even she picked Cinder, Audrey lowers her head a bit. What do you even say to that? "I'm... so sorry, Petra. I had... I had a mental picture, but it wasn't this..." She's not sure. What wasn't it? Vivid? Detailed? Damning? No, there's nothing damning here, is there? Petra didn't fight her on it. That means it was a selfless sacrifice. Not Petra's fault. The silence. She can't stand it. She has to find something to ask, some way to... not just fall completely silent, not make things even worse. "What kind of person was she? If you liked her, she must have been pretty incredible. Was she like the Sephirah, if she worked there?" Her tone is-- forced, a bit. Lowered, a tad tired, obviously sad. Afraid, like she's the advance scout looking for leftover mines in a field.
Petra Soroka	" . . . but it wasn't this..." How did Petra feel when she saw Jay's Eidolon wrecked in the Factory, all that time ago? When she heard one of the names she knew by heart from the monument at Applied Ontology, read out by his ghost with the record of his last moments, and saw how Dianna reacted, in person, to the mythologized events she'd known secondhand for so long. She'd imagined it, picked up pieces from murmurs here and there. But it wasn't this.... Petra doesn't move to break the silence at all. The trailing, wordless concept that Audrey left off with is wholly complete in meaning, and the suffocating air that follows it is part of the language needed to express it. Even if there was anything she wanted to say, the blockage in her throat would prevent it from getting out of her mouth. She shifts as little as she needs to, to rest her cheek on top of her chin, with her face away from Audrey. Then Audrey breaks it herself, and it's... forced, and anxious, and uncomfortable. Anything Petra says in return would be forced too, and she has to take an entire minute to judge whether it's one worth attempting. Eventually, she does, with a hoarse failed first sound when she tries to speak. "... She-- she, was, an agent. Not a Sephirah. In Control-- Malkuth's-- Department, when I... used to work up there, instead of with Binah. We met before that, though. I, uh--" She coughs. "I, um... stumbled across her the first time I went to the facility, before I worked there." 'Saved her life' was the wording Petra used to use for what happened with Cinder and Schadenfreude during Malkuth's Meltdown, but for obvious reasons, it's not a phrase that feels right anymore. "I was... sort of insane then. Maybe even more than I am now, haha. And... that was something she needed back then, and... I sort of needed the fact that she was a lot less insane. So we ended up hanging out a lot, a-and..." Berislav had asked her about Cinder before, over the phone. Someone else who wasn't there, and didn't know her, and had that established role of a therapist who was frequently burdened with Petra's babbling and misery. She'd been a little glad that someone asked, but there wasn't any cathartic feeling to it, just a stopped-up discomfort and a few tears and the heavy unhappiness of fumbling and explaining and reliving everything. In person, it's much more intense, in a way Petra wasn't prepared for at all. Talking feels hot, rather than cold, burning in her lungs and in her sinuses, and she curls up to hide her face more. "She was-- g-goofy, aaha. Silly. 'Grounded', is a good word. I-I could go places with her for the sake of it, and talk about things without-- without the world ending if I said something dumb or wr-wrong, and... she was sweet and energetic and it was-- it was really nice t-to just go somewhere and do something together a-and not need t-to think about it, or try some stupid trick on a whim a-and laugh if we fucked it up, and..." "... and what am I supposed t-to say?" Petra's voice wobbles. "Isn't it k-kind of... bullshit, no m-matter what I... say? She's dead no matter wh-what."
Audrey Basque	"So a chance meeting..." Audrey cuts herself off saying something stupid like 'fate' or 'destiny'. That would imply it was the plan all along that this is how it'd end. It'd be so crass, and wrong, and-- I was... sort of insane then. Maybe even more than I am now, haha. "I remember. Kind of. You didn't exactly leave a good impression on the school. I'm envious, a bit. It sounds like... she really completed you, huh?" Petra's stance barely shifts. Audrey doesn't really need to hide her movements though; she tries to relax a little bit, leaning more fully against the bed and letting her head drop to one side so she can look at Petra. Even if Petra's pointedly looking away. It's just polite. ... and what am I supposed t-to say? "I don't know. The truth? She was... really important to you. That's obvious. I think... she sounds like the kind of person who'd be upset you're like this, right now. Letting it... poison you. Saying stuff like... disappearing. Cutting yourself off because you're not useful. It's..." Audrey stops, uncomfortably; spoken like someone who's never had to deal with grief before. She knows it. She realizes it. Anything she says carries that toxic perfume of not possibly being able to relate, completely. "Painful. And I guess, these things always have to be. But... you're blaming yourself, and hurting yourself, and... does that end, at some point? Ever? You have to live with what happened, that can't change, but... maybe you don't have to be so hard on yourself. Haven't things been hard enough on you already?" No, that was just... lame. Why did she go into this blind? Five minutes. It would have taken five minutes to read some basic tips on dealing with this stuff and she just... lept onto the stupid mountain again. "I... hope you can find that again. Being able to go places just for the sake of it. Without thinking. Just having fun. I hope that you aren't interdicting yourself from that in punishment. Because..." Because, maybe... she'd like to be there for that.
Petra Soroka	"You didn't exactly leave a good impression on the school." Petra scoffs quietly, more at the irony than to make fun of what Audrey said. "Hah. Different insane. I was, uh... getting a different kind of insanity every month back then. You wouldn't have recognized me from how I was at the school, and you wouldn't have recognized me from how I am now, either. Just... unstable, I guess." "I think... she sounds like the kind of person who'd be upset you're like this, right now. Letting it... poison you." The stretch of silence that comes after that statement makes it feel like a bit of a miss. Petra shuffles her legs again to keep her blood flowing through them, but she stays silent for long enough for it to feel uncomfortable, her breathing softly ragged. Then, with the tone of having already labbed out several interative arguments in her head: "... She wasn't there for what came after. The war, and... all of that. The whole story is ten thousand different stories, and they start when I was born. They start when Cinder was born. When Lilian was born. When Carmen killed herself. They..." There's a gap between her sentences where she lets out an unvoiced sigh, incrementing her mood a tiny bit worse. "Why I'm guilty, and why I'm so... the way I am, it's all... it's not just about Cinder. And that's sort of fucked, r-right? That I-- th-that when talking about why I'm as miserable as I am, I could-- could... talk for hours about t-ten thousand different stories without m-mentioning her, and th-that'd be more honest than saying... that she's the whole reason. I-it's fucked. Isn't that wrong? Th-that I l-let her die, and it's not-- not even m-my whole thing. I d-don't want to throw her away l-like that." Petra swallows down phlegm, getting gradually more choked up and messy. "I don't-- th-the problem is, there's so many other reasons for m-me to... deny myself, like that. Th-the war was my fault. Everything that happened to... Lilian. They t-tried to kill me at the end to save Angela, b-because Cinder and I were the ones they were m-most happy to... to be rid of. And R-Rita, and the City, and the... world, and e-everything. I'm guilty of everything." "... I'm... g-guilty of taking advantage of Cinder, too." Petra lowers her voice, trying not to sniffle. "I-I'm not... the kind of p-person who's meant for 'not thinking'. It's n-not the... the way I am, and I was j-just a little bit like that, t-to be with her. In th-the end... I was more destined for this. I-I knew it'd turn out like this eventually. We... b-both did, a little."
Audrey Basque	The war. How could she comment on that? Everything she knows about it is accounts from others. Not even complete ones. Not even half complete ones! She's sitting here trying to console a friend talking about something she can't ever grasp or understand in a meaningful enough way to make a dent. Petra doesn't even have to say or even imply that for it to crush Audrey under ten tons of force. Add the rest to that weight. Petra's seemingly lived through more tragedy than a dozen people combined, and Audrey's basically not got a single one under her belt to draw from. Isn't that wrong? Th-that I l-let her die, and it's not-- not even m-my whole thing. I d-don't want to throw her away l-like that. "B-But you wouldn't be..." You wouldn't be throwing her away. Throwing her away would be making her sacrifice meaningless by living in abject misery for the rest of your days. I don't-- th-the problem is, there's so many other reasons for m-me to... deny myself, like that. "You shouldn't..." You shouldn't deny yourself. Hypocrite. They t-tried to kill me at the end to save Angela, "It doesn't..." It doesn't matter, because you saved Angela, in the end. You proved them wrong. I'm guilty of everything. "I'm..." Admit it. In th-the end... I was more destined for this. I-I knew it'd turn out like this eventually. "It doesn't have to..." Why? Why can't she finish any of her thoughts out loud? Why does all of it feel like a sword made of glass about to impact the wall Petra is putting up? Like she's not worthy to even swing it, and if she did, surely it would shatter long before she got through even a bit. She'd just hurt herself trying. She'd be speaking for a dead woman at best. And putting words in her mouth at worst. To say things like 'this surely isn't what she wanted'. "Isn't it better to have tried and been happy for a little while, than not?" She's... not asking Petra, is she? That almost sounds inward. "Petra... I..." Just apologize. You still can. She can't find the correct words.
Petra Soroka	Audrey's stammering and failed sentences are as readable to Petra as if she was taking narrative text right off the page. It's easy, when she's said the same words with the same sentiments about different events, and when it feels like she's viewing the interaction from a perspective outside herself, shielded from her own internal explanations and feelings, and increasingly guilty for how she comes across. She's not supposed to evoke this kind of response. She's not supposed to be someone so fucked up that she's unapproachable, but she pursued being that with all her heart, and it's only because she knows that original sin that's driven her actions for her whole life that she knows not to trust how she comes across here. Audrey doesn't have that context. Should Petra explain it? Can she? Is she required to, or be lying in some nebulous, narrative way? Ten thousand and eleven years ago, if Petra had illustrated her ideal life path for the kind of person she wanted to be, 'a dead girlfriend to be tragically cool and melancholic about' would have been up there. A war, an ironclad ideal, a heartbreaking loss, a struggle to go on and a new perspective on the world for all the miserable, real events she'd survived through. In the fantasy, the girlfriend would've been faceless. To the younger Petra who stole a mech and threw herself into the multiverse years ago, Cinder would still be faceless. "... If we're talking about 'better', then..." Drained of energy now, Petra just mumbles. It didn't feel so late when she walked into Audrey's dorm, but now she feels exhausted. "... 'Best' would've been me killing myself when I was just a little kid. There's nothing I can do that actually... makes up for anything." "... Sorry. Here I am, being... a miserable little loser on your floor, all over again. I...." Petra tries and fails to find words to finish that sentence for long enough that the expectant continuation in the air withers and dies. Then even longer, until she murmurs out the dull thought that oozed through her heart like sludge. "... I'm not sad I met her. I'm sad she met me."
Audrey Basque	... Sorry. Here I am, being... a miserable little loser on your floor, all over again. I.... "No! No... you're not... you're not miserable at all. You're..." Really strong, actually. Stronger than me. Because if I was that strong, I could have-- WOULD have-- Her mind skips a beat backwards. ... 'Best' would've been me killing myself when I was just a little kid. The stammers are silent now. There's no stutter, no half-thought. Just dread, crushing her throat like the specter of Cinder's fate is constantly grasping for Petra's. This is HER fault now. She just wanted to know the story, and she didn't stop to think... Sometimes you don't. You just don't. There's such a long break. Audrey lowers her head, no longer looking at Petra but rather just letting it hang forward. ... I'm not sad I met her. I'm sad she met me. Ask her. "Are..." Ask her. "Are you..." Ask her! "... are you sad we met, too? That I didn't just stay a bad memory for you, and that you didn't stay a nobody we chased off to me?" Audrey stops, horrified the words really did come out after all.
Petra Soroka	If Petra questions Audrey's choice to draw a direct parallel between herself and her dead girlfriend, then she doesn't voice that feeling out loud. Instead, she lifts her head up just to run her hands down her face, smearing the few tears that managed to leak out across her cheeks and hiding her eyes for just a little while longer. She buries the heels of her hands into her eyes, scrubbing around to try and work some energy back into herself by friction alone. "I... no one's ever better off for meeting me. I... try and I try and I try, but eventually I fuck up, or... I ruin it, or have to... to betray them, and... it's all fucked. I could still fuck it up with Angela, and she's the only one p-people ever bring up to argue... everyone else is... everyone knows it. I ruin everyone I touch." Petra thuds her head against the mattress, finally looking over to the side at Audrey by rolling her head like a limp doll. Her eyes are bloodshot, rimmed by bags, and she uses one finger to push stray hairs away from covering them. "... It's worse, if I'm not sad we met. That means it'll come after. You're... you already feel it, right? That being around me, that me being your friend, it makes... everyone suspicious of you, or pity you, or.... That'll happen everywhere. I'll drag you down and ruin you, like I do with everyone else. Maybe not now, but a year from now, or two years, you'll think back and... spit at me that I was right. That none of the good I tried to do outweighed the bad. Or you'll be dead."
Audrey Basque	I... no one's ever better off for meeting me. "But I--" ... It's worse, if I'm not sad we met. That means it'll come after. "Does it... does it have to?" Audrey doesn't raise her head, not immediately. She stares intently at... nothing, really, whatever's ahead and below and disconnects her from this conversation just enough she doesn't have to keep feeling crushed by her own ineptitude. "I mean..." You're... you already feel it, right? Audrey takes a deep breath. "Y-Yeah. But..." I don't care? But you do. I'd like not to. "When I think about the alternative... about giving up, and proving Miss Rook right, and just coming back to..." She gestures vaguely at her room. It's never felt so empty as it does right now, and it's anything but in reality. "This. I can't. Not now." She's not just talking about the Concord. She raises her head back up, turning it in Petra's direction once more. There's a bit of light missing from her golden-blue eyes, like the stars aren't all there. She might just be tired; she's not got bags around them like Petra does, but her eyelids are definitely drooping a bit. "It's the one thing I can't afford to do. Give up. Lose. Not this far, this close, this far in. I'd be letting Yuuki down. Angela... might never get to leave the Library. And you..." There's no thought that follows. She just blurted that out, and now it's out. Her eyes trail off Petra, unable to focus on her. "I'm ridiculous, aren't I? Now I'm the one fishing for your sympathy, after making you relive a terrible tale so I could know."
Petra Soroka	"Does it... does it have to?" "Every time I think it doesn't... it does." "I think meeting you made it a little more worth it in the end." If she asked Lilian again... would the answer change? Is Lilian's reemerging disgust a sign that her hatred of Petra will always outweigh whatever fondness Petra managed to scrounge up? In practical terms... would Petra never having existed change the outcome of the war, result in Angela dying? Would Lilian have fought all the same Elites, and won without Petra to stop her? Is Petra's centralizing effect the only reason those Elites were on Angela's side in the first place, and without Petra, Lilian could have comfortably defended Angela and won, versus Gebura and whatever slobbering losers fought on the side of the Sephirah? Would Cinder have died? Would the loop even make it to the end? As much as she wonders about it, she never really wants to know the answer. Seeing 'a world where Petra Soroka never existed' could only make her feel worse. ". . . proving Miss Rook right . . ." Petra's expression twists. "... Most people do, in the end." But, 'not this close' is the answer that justifies it. Petra sways, eyes wandering off of Audrey's. "There's a lot of things I do because I 'can't not'. Most of them are pretty awful. But there's no other option, so... it is what it is. I get it." "But you know... being an Elite doesn't mean being friends with me. You can... whatever it is you need from being out here... I want to help. I'll help when you call on me to. But you know, in the end..." Petra sighs. "I'm a cursed weapon. I know you won't believe me, but... it always turns out that way." "I'm ridiculous, aren't I?" Was Audrey fishing for sympathy? If she was, then Petra missed the mark, but the sympathy she feels is to the abstract, intangible seed of humanity that she can feel inside Audrey, blindly squirming to find the light. In that pursuit, anything is justifiable; even disagreeing with Lilian. Petra can't say otherwise. "... Well." Petra says that as if she's preparing some long thought to respond to Audrey's self-deprecation, but instead after a few seconds she just takes a big breath and shivers. "I'm kind of... exhausted of talking, anyways. So, not that ridiculous."
Audrey Basque	Most people do prove her right. That's even more reason she can't... Audrey sighs, rather than say anything to that. She's said too much. She's already put things on the table she never should have, and it's... It didn't feel that bad, did it? The only thing she feels the need to say... "I don't think you're cursed. And... I do need your help. Not still. Not until. I just do. So..." Petra shivers, and Audrey kind of pauses, looking towards the clock on the wall. Her eyes half-close, a mix of annoyance of the weight of the hour suddenly doubling now that she knows it. "... yeah. Let's... let's do that. Sorry. And thanks. I wanted to understand what Cinder meant to you. I got a lot more than I bargained for, but..." A smile, genuine, if tired. "I appreciate it. The trust. It's... you're a good person, Petra. And I don't want anyone to convince you otherwise. Not even yourself." Audrey gets up, offering a hand out to help Petra up. "Do you want the bed? I can sleep on the couch again. Oh... actually..." She mosies on over to the couch, to grab her blazer. She was looking for something else, but what she pulls out of her pockets is the Playbricks. It's an accident, but it makes her smile a bit wider. "... I think I've got enough energy left for a round or two. You?"
Petra Soroka	"I got a lot more than I bargained for, but..." Petra's face twists into an apologetic, joyless half-smile. "... Sorry." She really did regurgitate more feelings onto Audrey than she asked for. Petra became what she hated, a little bit, not that she didn't already hate herself plenty-- but this time, at least, it's salvageable. Nobody wants to be bludgeoned with misery just to fulfill the basic social role of asking how someone's doing, and nobody normal wants a full backstory when they ask for it. She owes Audrey some positive feelings in exchange, definitely. ... Next time someone asks about Cinder, Petra resolves to say she won't talk about it. If it's not someone like Audrey, Lilian, or Angela... it's just too parasitic to keep rolling out the same feelings and piling them onto someone just to scrape up some sympathy out of their discomfort. At least Audrey's consistent about bothering with Petra at all. "I... stay the night again? Sure." Petra blinks. It is late, but to have the topic just assumed to be already settled because of that, without needing to ask or accidentally pass out mid-activity, is a little funny. "I can--" She rouses a bit from her slumped place by the bed, dusting off her jeans habitually. Actually-- not just for Audrey's sake, but for her own, a little mindless gaming sounds great right now. "Let me get changed first, then sure. I've kind of been out all day." Petra's pyjamas are some of the oldest clothes she owns, now, by virtue of being stored in her mirror during the war. They're still the same ones she's been wearing for a while-- shockingly high quality silk, plain white, except for the faint bloodstains from years old torture wounds. They look cozy, besides that!
Audrey Basque	Of course the matter of Petra staying is already presumed. There are no circumstances under which Audrey lets her walk out, in the middle of the night, after having caused them both unconditional misery over curiosity for a personal matter she should not have touched to begin with. It's the most decent thing she can think to do, and Petra seemed well rested last time. The bloody nightwear causes Audrey to squint, predictably, and she wonders if she should bring it up... but it's so late, and she's already caused quite enough harm. No more of that. With what energy she has left, she manages to hop onto the bed, holding out the second Playbrick for Petra to grab when she scoots on over. Audrey flicks a finger towards the light switch once Petra is comfortable, to allow the ceiling's night sky to be their only light besides the consoles. There's a good seven hours before class... she can spare one to play, five to sleep, and one to sort her morning out. It's fine. ______________ THE NEXT MORNING, 7:30AM. At some point, the two fell asleep. Half a blanket was tiredly tugged over the two of them, while a pillow was greedily and probably not even consciously grabbed and dragged halfway across the bed. The Playbricks have stopped their merry tunes, low battery warnings indicating they passed out while playing (or that Audrey has very poor battery hygiene). A bit of sunlight washes into the room, barely, from the far window that doesn't give much of a view of anything, really. She'd never seen fit to complain that her room's windows were terribly placed, and she didn't mind that much anyway. She's not here for the view, after all. Audrey, sound asleep, is awkwardly wrapped around Petra, treating her like a pillow. She's got more grip than you'd imagine. There's a knock at the door, polite and restrained-- but enough that it would wake Petra up, where Audrey remains half-asleep. "Stargazer, we are going to be late for breakfast. You promised~" "She probably spent the night out again. Let's just go," It's that quick. They're gone. But-- "Mmmf. Not yet, Lilian. Come on..." Audrey, essentially not awake enough to notice what she just did for another good thirty seconds, adjusts her posture to lean her head closer to Petra's, unwilling to get up, or give up the warmth.
Petra Soroka	It's not like Petra has anywhere to be tomorrow. The natural response, when overflowing the capacity for misery that she has at any given time by drawing on her reserves, is to seek emotional replenishment in the company of other people. It means guzzling dopamine and putting everything else out of mind, flopped in bed under the stars, cozy in her pajamas and in the warmth of another person. It's a healthy option, even, compared to anything else Petra's historically done to buffer up her emotions. She doesn't last an hour, though. After just half that, with one game completed, her tension unwinds, and that was the only thing keeping her conscious. In a gap in activity as small as a loading screen, Petra sinks into the pillow and lets her Playbrick slip off to the side, breathing deep and even while partly curled up in bed. . . . . Petra's never had a dream that she wasn't aware of as a dream, but she's never had one she could control, either. Half-lucid, in a blur of unconsciousness, she finds herself back in Lobotomy Corporation, not for the first time, with the roles reversed. Herself, still fighting on Angela's side, but with all the Elites arrayed against her like they were for Lilian, with her as their commander. If the same things were demanded of Petra as they were Lilian, would she win? If she didn't have the rotten well of other Elites to draw on as weapons, would she have been stronger, purer, the way Lilian wished she was? Can Petra be strong enough to be the sole arbiter of Angela's fate? She can't. Beneath White Night's beating wings, dream-Petra stabs Lilian through the heart for Kukuru to revive, and Rita rips her head off in an instant.
Petra Soroka	. . . . "Stargazer, we are going to be late for breakfast. You promised~" Petra wakes up, bleary and unsure where she is. In her sleep, she squirmed into Audrey's grip further, curled up against her with the majority of the bed left empty and unused. The body heat and comfort of the bed keeps her mind hazy for a moment longer, but unfamiliar voices drag her back to the not-entirely-unfamiliar room she's fallen asleep in, and the familiar person holding her down. Petra's heart leaps into her throat, horrified for an instant that they're about to open the door, and then she sighs and relaxes when they don't. The thought crosses her mind, reeled out of her hindbrain, that it's been way too long since she's fallen asleep with someone like this. "Not yet, Lilian." "Oh..." Petra's stiffening in that moment of panic roused Audrey, and Audrey's response... Petra doesn't ascribe to some psychoanalytical bullshit about dreams, with Freudian terms and notes of study on their meanings, but it's hard for her to not put some spiritual value into them. The human soul is constrained by the world on every level of its mechanisms that translate it, but the body is the final and greatest offender. Even if it were someone she didn't care about, Petra would put some stock into their dreams as a more refined expression of the struggling whispers of their soul. And Audrey... it's only natural, really. To be an Elite, to follow in Lilian's footstep, but just different, just more stubborn, and better graded, and more praised.... If Petra had known about Lilian before joining the Watch, she knows she would have been a factor for herself too. Petra knows how hard it is to get Lilian's eye. Especially when Audrey is so skittish about... "... You're really kind of hopeless, huh?" In the diffuse morning twilight, only just distinguishable from night, Petra is seized by a half-intentional urge, and before thinking about it, she has her hand cupping Audrey's cheek and jaw. Eyes only half open, foggily automatic, she tilts Audrey's face towards hers, and softly kisses her on the lips. When Audrey doesn't resist, Petra leans into the kiss more, parting her lips and wordlessly guiding Audrey to do the same. Her hand slides along Audrey's back to her head, entangled in her hair and pulling her closer. Unforming waking consciousness is drowned out by a different kind of energy, that rears out of the parts of her brain that aren't asleep at all, picking up her warm breathing on Audrey's face until she-- blinks, and reappears with a skipped frame a foot away on the bed, fully disengaged from the embrace in less than an instant. Petra shoots upright, scrambling out of bed. She throws her hoodie on as quickly as she can over her pajamas, face bright pink. She only has time for a few stammered words before rushing out the door, leaving the dormitory and campus as fast as she can. "A-h-- ah, um-- fuck, I-I-- s-sorry, I d-didn't mean to-- sorry, sorry--"
Audrey Basque	Petra leans in, guiding Audrey to her First. Not a first first, because for appearances' sake she might have snuck a peck or two with a particularly handsome high class Enlightened courting her at one of so many pointless soirées, but a First, in the meaningful sense of actually wanting it, and it actually meaning something. Even though... it's not really that, either, is it? Even the idealized dream version of Audrey doesn't lead, and needs to be led, but she responds to being guided perfectly-- there's even a nibble, on Petra's lower lip, for a brief instant or two, and that surely cannot be the kind of lady Audrey looks like she is. Whatever Audrey might be dreaming of though-- whatever the undertones and overtones of it might betray about her-- it all pops like a balloon when the kiss gets a bit too deep, Petra's hand pulling her in by the back of her head. As Petra skip-frames out of the embrace, Audrey is wide-eyed awake, turning a shade of red only previously theorized to exist. Terror, embarrassment and... something else, flushing all the life out of her face as she realizes what just happened, what she said, and the terrible truth that can never be taken back. "P-Petra! N-No, w-w-w-w-wait!" They stammer over each other in a way that makes it nearly impossible to communicate anything but the fact they are both in-sync regarding the nature of what transpired. And before Audrey can make any excuses, or even get up and out of bed, Petra's bolted out, leaving the honor student alone on her bed in a mess of blankets, her hair in dire need of care, and her life officially twice as upside down as before. Which, sadly, does not right it up at all. "Oh no... no no no no no..." She reaches for her phone-- the text app causes a sharp pain in her chest, noticing the missed text from Maria, and immediately underneath it, Petra's doggy sticker. She texts Maria back: "Sick. Sorry." She throws the phone at the couch, flicks the door closed and locked, rolls herself up in her blanket like it's a protective cocoon and buries her face in her pillow. She is not moving an inch from there for several hours, and then... and then... She doesn't know.