Scene #9302: Do You Have A Minute

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Audrey Basque	It's a Saturday night. Audrey could be doing a million things right now, but as was consistent with the last few weeks, she'd instead elected to deflect, push away or keep to herself, quite a bit more than was usual. Sylvie had tickets for... something or another. A concert? It honestly felt like a trap, and Audrey had declined, citing homework as an excuse. Maria wanted to go shopping, some new fashion line that was all the rage right now, and Audrey also declined. She did, really, have homework, and it was sitting on her bed open and untouched, because even that was feeling hollow. She needed out of her room, whatever that meant, and for most of the day that meant the Library. She managed to stay out of Petra's way, occupied for the entire day with a massive pile of completely random books and newspaper articles from her world-- nothing unique or precious, just all sorts of publications on every topic you'd expect to find in a public library, including fiction. A lot of it doesn't deviate much from standard Earth equivalents, even! But eventually she ran out. Everything dispatched to its proper floor, labeled thoroughly... the desk she'd been assigned empty, Audrey finally gets to sit down, putting her face down first and mumbling something tiredly. Between the bags under her eyes, that she'd not even bothered covering up, the empty stare, like she was looking past everything, her hair being just a bit too fuzzy with stray strands out of place, and her uniform not being worn quite perfectly, she'd looked haunted all day-- and still very much does. She'd not even sought the Sephirah or Roland out particularly much, except when she needed a quick pointer. It's late, really. She did all the work she brought. It wasn't much, but it felt good. And it took her mind off the sights that had kept her from sleeping much for days now: the Eye of Terror, and all of the adjacent wounds and tears that plagued Meresankh's galaxy. She was lucky, really, not that she could know that; puking and losing sleep were some of the least threatening things that could've happened to her from that. She angles her head up, slowly, to pull her phone out and look at the time. Maybe it was late enough to call it and just go home. Or maybe she'd ask Angela to spend the night, and hope sleep comes easier here.
Petra Soroka	Walking through the entire Library and talking to every single employee face to face might not be standard workplace protocol, but Petra can't really imagine being a boss any other way. Her clumsy insistence on doing it precisely this way and no other is likely one of the traits that makes the agents most tolerant of working under her, despite all the murders and bank robberies-- she does, in her own weird little way, acknowledge all of them individually as people. But Petra's need to complete the pattern is at war with her hesitance to meet up with one specific employee of hers. If she avoids Audrey, then not only will she not be able to report to Angela that she 'talked with every employee', but Audrey would inevitably find out that Petra skipped over her conspicuously, and even though she obviously doesn't want to see Petra, that's still a bad feeling to have. Whatever happened that morning in the dormitory, Petra would still feel miserable if she ended up fostering enmity with Audrey, and so, nervously, she takes the long spiraling stairs up to General Works. Roland is of course unequipped before this. Petra considered whether Audrey might feel better if it wasn't just herself and Petra alone, but bringing Roland would feel strange and bringing Angela would make it feel like she's ganging up on Audrey, and so it's just Petra alone who knock-knocks with her knuckles against one of the wooden bookshelves to announce her presence. She slips around the side of the bookshelf to the visible, with the tip of her shoe staying just around the corner like it's tethering her there. It's hard to tell much difference in Petra's overall quality of life from day to day just by looking at her, since she always looks like she's hobbled in after a car accident, with her uniform rumpled and tie loose. She has a tablet tucked against her chest with one arm, though she doesn't move to reference it at all like she did with the other librarians. She can't help her eyes lingering on Audrey for a few seconds, before pointedly wandering them off in some other direction, shifting her weight back and forth and practically visibly making an anxious sweating animation pop up around her head. "Ah, um, hey Audrey. Sorry to bother you. I, uh, know it's late, but I had to talk with everyone about stuff, so I figured I had to catch you too before you left or, went to sleep, or whatever." After babbling, she takes a breath to slow herself down. "Um... so you heard about the heist, obviously, and the money from that is going towards paying the librarians' salaries finally. And that includes you, because, w-well, you know. I've already calculated the backpay since you started to work here, and then how much you'll be paid weekly, so...." "And, also." Petra fidgets with the hem of her jacket, looking wayyy off to the side at absolutely nothing. "Um, part of the point of setting this all up like a normal job, is to specifically, uh, show that-- no one's trapped here anymore. All the agents from Lobotomy Corporation, I gave them the chance to leave this all behind and move away, and that's... since it's a job, it's voluntary to work here, and you can-- leave anytime. Okay?"
Audrey Basque	It takes Audrey a moment to realize the knocking is intentionally, and addressed at her, and then another to realize it's Petra when she speaks up. She doesn't shoot up from her seat, exactly, but her posture stiffens in the way you do when something uncomfortable gets brought up in an unavoidable way. And this was that, really. Audrey's head rises from the risk, tired look staring at Petra just long enough for her to remember that's weird and awkward until she looks back down at the empty desk instead. "Yea... yes. I remember," she says of the heist, which is still an odd thing to casually acknowledge, that she's being paid in stolen bank money, but the circumstances around that aren't so clearcut, and she's thankful for at least that much. It's one less thing people can gossip about if it's legit. "But I also remember Angela saying she would just... put it all in a fund. I do not need the money," she insists, tone formal and guarded and not at all like she would normally speak to Petra. ...and you can-- leave anytime. Okay? "Is that what this is about?" Audrey's eyes look back up from the desk, directly at Petra, whether she's avoiding the eye contact or not. It'll be a lot harder to miss how tired and out of it Audrey looks, though. "Do you think me trapped, like Roland to Angela? Do you really think I see it that way? That if you motion towards the door I will hurry for it as though it were my first time seeing it?" A slight click of her tongue. A bit of annoyance. "I promised Angela I would help, did I not? And, I like it here. So..." She lets that hang, because she didn't think that far ahead. So what? This keeps being awkward and awful, forever? That wasn't a great plan.
Petra Soroka	"But I also remember Angela saying she would just... put it all in a fund." Petra can't miss Audrey's stiffness in how she talks to her. It scratches at the scab of Lilian calling her 'Soroka', even though there isn't nearly as much baggage to go along with it. Being referred to formally is pretty much always a specific act meant to harm Petra, even when it doesn't involve 'miss' or 'Soroka', and it feels like drawing the lines of a conversational battlefield. And it's not a battle Petra is particularly thrilled about fighting either. Her shoulders slump a little bit. "Ah, well... sure, I just figured I'd let you know. I mean, it's still your payment, after all." "Do you think me trapped, like Roland to Angela? Do you really think I see it that way?" Petra flinches and turns her face away, but sensing the stare, she reluctantly drags her eyes back up to meet Audrey's, wincing. She expected to be scolded when she started this conversation, but that's nothing new for her, with talks she has to endure having anyways. Her determination to follow through with it doesn't actually give her any higher resistance when she hears Audrey's tongue click. "Well-- n-no, not really like that, but..." The stammering leaving her lips makes Petra sick and frustrated at herself, for having her legs cut out from under her by something both so mundane and morally bankrupt. She would think that she's used to being thought of as a monster by now, but the fact that she keeps finding new ways to innovate on the concept of being contemptible with every new person she meets makes sure that she remains pathetic and unstable. The prickling of heat behind her eyes is wrenched away by a burst of willpower, because she refuses to scam out sympathy for herself again. "... I know you're not like the other librarians or Angela, but... it's still..." After managing to find her voice again, Petra's voice is low and scratchy, both arms wrapped around the tablet held to her chest. She glances to the side, towards the main room of General Works. "Uh... would you be alright with, moving this to my office? Sorry."
Audrey Basque	I mean, it's still your payment, after all. "But I never asked for payment, Petra!" Audrey actually gets up, gloved hands against the desk, not slamming but certainly making a brief impact. She lifts her hands, to gesture at the whole of the floor around them. "This WAS my payment! A place to be, people to meet, knowledge at my fingertips and a way to get used to things. I did not want more! Or need more. And I..." She pauses, looking down at herself. She adjusts her jacket, like she's just suddenly lost all of the energy she needed to get angry, or maybe it's the fact there's people around them. It's probably the latter. Uh... would you be alright with, moving this to my office? Sorry. "... yes. Let's." She takes a deep breath. It doesn't do anything for the fatigue, but it's a slight recentering. Barely. She walks out from behind the desk, to follow after Petra to a more private venue. The thought of being alone with her in a room again causes even more discomfort than the idea of making a scene semi-publicly on the floor, and yet... she definitely wouldn't want Roland to overhear her like this. Or Angela. Or Hod. Heaven forbid Binah wander on by. "Apologies. I am not myself today. I..." Hanging onto that again. I. I what? I want to apologize. Something like that? I want to talk about it. Or that. "Should not be treating you like this. After what I did."
Petra Soroka	"This WAS my payment! A place to be, people to meet, knowledge at my fingertips and a way to get used to things." It's so easy to interpret that 'was' as an attack against Petra. The thing that Petra stole from her, a place where she could be comfortable and make friends, now tainted by Petra's presence rather than enhanced by it. To accept the payment at all is to allow Petra's toxic existence to triumph over her efforts to find a place as an Elite, because it means that this place has been robbed of the qualities that made it worth being around in the first place. So when Audrey raises her voice at her, Petra tenses up, caught between guilty apologia for sabotaging Audrey in a way she didn't want to, and the flicker of anger to defend her home from a perceived insult. Petra's fist curls around her tablet just a fraction tighter, visible as a twitch and audible as the short scrape of her nails in the silence after Audrey trails off. "Well. That's just the way it is. Lilian always says to never work for free." Petra's office, such that it is, is just around the corner, off of the main chamber of General Works. She's not exactly the bureaucratic sort, and she doesn't take that well to being in 'charge' of a department, so it looks like the office of a one-woman journalism show, rather than a polished place for discussions with employees. Books from all around the multiverse pile up in every corner, along with loose papers of notes, and newspapers that still need categorizing. A corkboard holds scraps of ideas that Petra hasn't looked into yet, and notes to follow up on things like R-Corp and the Udjat. There's only one chair, but Petra doesn't sit in it either. Instead she circles around to the far side of her desk and leans against the edge, facing away from Audrey, palms braced on the corner of the desk. When the door closes behind Audrey, she takes a short, tense breath that she doesn't let out again. Because, obviously, she's uncomfortable with Audrey being in a room alone with her on Audrey's behalf. "Sorry. Don't apologize. I'm not going to-- to do anything, so you don't need to be, placating or anything. I just want to say...." "If you... want to stay here, at the Library, then I'd understand if you wanted to transfer to a different floor. Like-- I know you'd, rather not be around me, so...."
Audrey Basque	Lilian always says to never work for free. "Well, Miss Rook also says I should give up and go home," Audrey says, with the slightest hint of venom on her tongue. "I think I am old enough to make these decisions for myself." The sight of Petra's office isn't too surprising; surely she'd been there before, considering, though it still strikes at the part of Audrey that likes things tidy, organized and professionally presented. Mercifully the urge to clean this all for Petra isn't very strong today, much like she's resisting reaching over to fix her tie again. Where Petra heads to one edge of the desk, Audrey walks to be in front of it, once the door is closed. She's mulling words, and thoughts, and whether to just be direct or continue being upset. Sorry. Don't apologize. I'm not going to-- to do anything, so you don't need to be, placating or anything. I just want to say.... "I know you will not. Because that is not the issue, is it?" Petra hadn't instigated. Not for Audrey. Sleepy as she was, she'd assumed... If you... want to stay here, at the Library, then I'd understand if you wanted to transfer to a different floor. "No. This floor is fine. The distance is... you left, so quickly, and... of course I needed some time, but you started avoiding me, and now this whole... insisting I can leave, as if I needed to be convinced I am not your hostage. It is infuriating! Of course I am not your hostage." Like-- I know you'd, rather not be around me, so.... "But when you took your distance, I realized... that what I had done had... it was... there are no words, are there? For how it makes me look. For how disgusting, and vile, and ill-timed, and disrespectful and..." Not anger. Doubt. "You would have every right to ask me placed elsewhere, or to ask me to leave. So why this dance? Why the subtle attempts to remind me I can just go on my own? If I have broken this beyond repair, ask me to leave. Directly."
Petra Soroka	"It is infuriating! Of course I am not your hostage." Petra hates this sort of thing. Her entire life is defined by navigating the aftermath of interpersonal fuckups, but she's never gotten deft at doing it. The only two options she knows are to either cling obsessively tighter or immediately run away and distance herself, and modulating the harmed party's exposure to 'Petra' is the only form of care she understands. In this case, the problem was that she gripped too tightly to Audrey, and so this was all she could do! And then, because Audrey refused to move farther away herself, the gap between them was an unsteady lurch, noncommital and stuck in-between. Petra wouldn't be happy if Audrey distanced herself from Petra completely, but a clean cut only bleeds for so long, even if she's running out of room to hold the scars. So it's stubborn, and it's infuriating, and it's defiantly correct in the face of Petra's wrongs, for Audrey to linger. "I know! Fuck, I..." Petra groans, rolling her head back and making her desk creak by leaning harder against it. "I'm not trying to do a fucking power play, sorry! I thought it'd come off as-- as fucking, respectful, or something! By not being invasive! It's like..." "You would have every right to ask me placed elsewhere, or to ask me to leave." "Like, I'm your fucking, boss, and I... it's one of those things, that's just... unsafe, right? I can't be allowed to... get away with something like that. I know why it feels bad to, to transfer, or whatever, and why that'd feel like letting me win or whatever, but-- but it's way too fucked to work under a boss who'd fucking-- guilt trip you, and manipulate you, and take advantage of-- k-kiss you like that, like..." Petra takes a deep, shaky breath, lifting her head up to look at the far wall opposite Audrey. Some of the energy leaves her body, and she sinks down to prop her elbows behind herself on the table, slouching. "Look, there's just something, too wrong with me for you to stick around. You don't need subject yourself to me just to make a point. I'm saying you can go on your own because, no one would blame you or think less of you for wanting nothing to do with me, because... I mean, really, everyone just thought it'd be a matter of time with me. If you transfer to a different floor, it'll... people haven't really been implying you're a freak as much lately, have they? Since avoiding me. That's how it works, so...."
Audrey Basque	I'm not trying to do a fucking power play, sorry! I thought it'd come off as-- as fucking, respectful, or something! By not being invasive! It's like... "That's not the problem! I-- why won't you just say it?" That wasn't the story. Petra, vulnerable, having the worst time of her life after an arbitrary amount of subjective (and objective) years locked in some kind of loop, and what does Audrey do? Invite her over repeatedly, try to help, try to be there for her and then... exploit that. That's how it was. Like, I'm your fucking, boss, and I... ... but it's way too fucked to work under a boss who'd fucking-- guilt trip you, and manipulate you, and take advantage of-- k-kiss you like that, like... Audrey grits her teeth. This was worse. This was so much worse than anything else Petra could do. Ignore the problem, self-blame, keep giving Audrey the roundabout blame-but-not-blame. If you transfer to a different floor, it'll... people haven't really been implying you're a freak as much lately, have they? Since avoiding me. That's how it works, so.... "Will you stop?!" Audrey takes a step forward, fists curled up, but avoiding another desk slam. The formality drops from her voice entirely. "I kissed you! I know! It's really bad! Look at me, Petra! All eyes are on me to be the new pride of the school, to excel, to surpass, and to be nothing but the most proper and refined lady to ever walk out of those doors, and I exploited your emotional state in a moment of weakness, after you confided in me, like some vulgar harlot!" Audrey's voice cracks. Anger gives way to shame. "And I... liked it." She turns away; now she's the one who couldn't stand looking Petra in the eyes. "So stop trying to soften the blow for me. No hate you can afford me will be greater than the hate I give myself over it. If you say I need to go, then fine. But this was my fault. You don't have to act like you're in the wrong and it's up to me to leave. Give me the consequences of my actions."
Petra Soroka	"Will you stop?!" Petra's stumbling explanation chokes in her throat. She stops, as directed, but she's not sure how to read Audrey's tone. Having Audrey's voice raised is at once stressful and relieving, because even when it's a necessary treatment, 'distance' is the worst thing in the world. It's not just Qetra who insists that being hated is miles better than being ignored, though Petra wouldn't say it out loud as freely. "It's really bad! Look at me, Petra!" Petra takes a bracing breath and twists around to face Audrey, shoulders drawn. Rather than turning fully, she keeps herself weirdly contorted, one hand planted on the arm of her office chair for support, legs crossed while standing. It's the least relaxed posture she could make when following Audrey's insistant instructions, like a straightjacket made out of shame. Her eyes have trouble meeting Audrey's, though not for the usual reasons Petra struggles with eye contact. Instead, it's because they're faintly shiny with the embarrassingly pathetic tears Petra's been trying to hold back this whole time, and she doesn't want Audrey to look too closely at them. ". . . like some vulgar harlot!" "L-look, you don't have to... that sort of thing isn't something that would happen to you if not for me. I mean, you've managed your life perfectly fine so far, it's just that I... I don't know, I'm just-- you know there's something wrong with me. You know how everyone looks at you for spending time around me. It's fine to just, blame me for all of it. You...." "And I... liked it." Again, Petra trails off into silence. She hadn't forgotten the words Audrey said in the half-awake hours of the morning, but they felt like they paled a lot in importance compared to what happened after. Putting too much stock into them would be absolving Petra, and anyways-- they barely even relate! There was actually nothing Audrey could say that would make what Petra did okay! Except... that, probably. "A-ah...." Petra, kisser of several women, known vulgar harlot, completely stalls her entire thought process when forced to talk about a kiss that might have been consensual. She blinks several times, then averts her eyes, venting the rising ill feeling in her chest with an awkward nonsequitor. "... Sorry. I didn't mean to." After struggling for a moment longer, Petra untangles herself and droops her head, leaning over her desk. "... I'm not going to tell you to go. But for you... you'd do a lot better if you weren't being... infected with my presence, wouldn't you? It doesn't matter how much you hate yourself or how much I hate myself, when the convenient thing to do is, to cut out the opportunity to fuck up and keep living your life, right?"
Audrey Basque	L-look, you don't have to... that sort of thing isn't something that would happen to you if not for me. It's surely a blessing that Audrey isn't immediately looking back at Petra. She can't see the tears, and... it means Petra can't see hers, either. She gets to save what little dignity she has left, to the person who saw her abandon it almost completely in the first place. "You aren't to blame, Petra. I've always been-- I'm like this, you see? I'm a liar, and a cheat, and a freak! The only thing I have going for me is my talent!" Her hands reach up, reaching for an unseen seam, grasping, stretching it, making the walls of the office shoot out, miles away, and leaving Petra and Audrey next to a desk in the middle of an almost void-like room. "This is what it feels like. Constantly." Back still turned, she motions towards the empty space all around them; unsettling, stretched out, wall and ceiling features repeating to the ends. "Everything feels so big, and wide, and ENDLESS, and I just keep pushing it all away because it's easier. People, too." The metaphorical gun in her hand, placed against her head; and saying the truth is like pulling the trigger. That's how it is. Everything she's spent the last year or two cultivating, on the line. ... I'm not going to tell you to go. But for you... you'd do a lot better if you weren't being... infected with my presence, wouldn't you? "Maybe I would... maybe I could just go home and forget about all this, and succeed. But now it would be like... something is missing. And I don't know why, but... it would feel worse. Worse than the last few weeks. Worse than this." She turns to look at Petra, no longer able to keep her voice straight, or her tears in. "Why? W-Why am I-I like this?"
Petra Soroka	"I've always been-- I'm like this, you see?" When the room stretches out, tiling away meaninglessly into the infinite distance, it explains everything better than Audrey's words ever could for Petra. Endlessly familiar with the void, the repetition, swimming endlessly through interchangeable days without any perceptible change; the way that the space between the stars is so vast that traveling your whole life towards one wouldn't change it from a speck in the distance. The emotion that was suffocating Petra's ability to speak drains out of her throat, pooling in her stomach. She feels simultaneously lighter, with at least some of the guilt she'd been feeling fizzling away, and paralyzed by dread she struggles to put a name to, looking at the back of Audrey's head. Her lips curl into a silent 'o' shape, rug-pulled from her expected interaction, but for once actually certain on what to do next. "Why? W-Why am I-I like this?" "Well... because you're a freak." The desk was an anchor around which Audrey and Petra were rooted in the empty world, and with Petra's chair pulled away too, she can only signal sympathetic animus by hoisting herself up onto the edge of the desk, dangling her legs off the side. Petra's tone, looking over and seeing Audrey's teary breakdown, isn't flippant, but gently regretful. "Sorry. You're kind of holding yourself together by a thread, aren't you? I could tell. It really wasn't... my place to fuck around with that, I guess, but... if it makes you feel any better, that's a reason you belong out here." Petra hangs her head and swings her feet back and forth, and even though the floor is the one part of the room that remains close, it feels like she's sitting on the edge of a cliff. "I think I get it. Probably... me, as much as anyone could possibly get it. But that doesn't really absolve me of the, damage I did to that last little struggle keeping your life going. But...." "But, I understand. And it's up to you what you want to do." Petra swallows, gripping the edge of her desk and feeling it like the body of that gun caressed in her palm. "But you should know. It's not going to get any better if you choose to stay near me. No matter what I do, that's not the effect I have on people. I just, really want you to know that, before deciding anything."
Audrey Basque	Well... because you're a freak. She knew. She always knew. She hates it. She loves it. She wants it to end. And she wants it to go on forever. Sorry. You're kind of holding yourself together by a thread, aren't you? "I-It was a matter of t-time... I thought I could h-hold it i-in forever. I thought... r-really, I did, a-a-and..." Too many things kept happening, and then she met Petra. The real Petra. The one person she should have never, ever gotten involved with. The one person she really wanted to get involved with, now. But you should know. It's not going to get any better if you choose to stay near me. No matter what I do, that's not the effect I have on people. I just, really want you to know that, before deciding anything. "You didn't do t-this to me. I did this. T-To me. And n-now, I..." She could say a thousand things, or none at all. This is her last chance not to pull the trigger. Not to jump off that cliff. She steps towards Petra, up front, to throw herself into her arms, to place her head on her chest and look up, teary-eyed and begging. "I don't care about the damage. Please."
Petra Soroka	"I don't care about the damage. Please." Petra catches Audrey on her chest purely through reflex, surprised to the point of not being able to speak for a minute. She awkwardly settles her arms on Audrey's shoulders, and then, drawn by a dizzyingly warm impulse that strains against the heavy, frigid guilt weighing against it, wraps her arms around her head to hold her. She doesn't meet Audrey's eyes at first, staring off in the direction where the door used to be, and feeling nauseatingly certain that she should've stuck to her guns and kept avoiding Audrey. But, intoxicatingly, miserably, she tightens her hug, with her heart pounding loud enough that Audrey can hear it through her chest. She finally tilts her head down to look at Audrey, and shakily uncertain, lifts her hand up to run it down Audrey's hair. "... Okay. Don't say I didn't warn you. There's no coming back from that choice, you know." Lilian's going to fucking kill her. Tamamo too, and Elara, and maybe even Angela. And Cinder really deserves them to.