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Madeleine Cadrasteia     LAST TIME

    Madeleine invited a number of elites to join her in the pursuit of whoever-it-is that stole the center of the United States. With some reconaissance and divination the gang determined their starting point to be rural Idaho and their destination to be Denver, Colorado. Once on the road many conversations ensued, Regulus seized control of the radio, and Lilian was given a large dose of painkillers. What awaits our intrepid heroes? And more pressingly, when's lunch?

    AND NOW

    The highway stretches on over the mountains, and eventually the vanful of elites cross into Montana at Lolo Pass. It's getting well into midday, although the sun's position in the sky doesn't *feel* right for this hour. The clouds run in long east-west bands, rolling slowly northward. The highway turns halfway north as well, though Madeleine explains it's only that way through Missoula, which isn't too far. Indeed it's not long until the Elites find themselves gathered inside a Freddy's on the north end of the small city.

    Madeleine does the courtesy of waiting by the counter for everyone's orders, and carries over a heaping tray of steakburgers, fries, onion rings, and frozen custard. She takes a big sip from her milkshake before she's even sat down. "No rush now," she assures everyone present. "Having to stop later 'cuz you upset your stomach will cost us more time than taking it easy here. 'Sides, whoever we're after's gotta stop for lunch too, right?" The huntress sets into her grilled-cheese steakburger with gusto.
Ozhira     Ozhira grows steadily less cohesive the longer the drive takes. When the van stops and people start disembarking, they nearly slosh out of the vehicle like a real-life smear frame, hanging on to the door. Everyone goes inside-- but Ozhira transforms into a deer and bounds into the woods near the strip mall instead.

    It's about when all the orders are filled and Maddie's sitting down that the creature rejoins the party, looking significantly more chill. Even maybe a little contented. While they made no order here at this restaurant, Ozhira politely refuses offers of any extras or leftovers, "We are-- fine, now."

    Some Bigfoot photographer is gonna be rambling about carnivorous deer that aren't *really* deer for a few weeks.

> "'Sides, whoever we're after's gotta stop for lunch too, right?"

    "Is this known?" The expression projected on Ozhira's face is one of earnest curiosity, "We do not, fully understand. The sort of person who could take this. Without leaving a hole behind."
Ivy Carrow     Ivy visibly loses a little of her animating drive, when it becomes clear that they're stopping at a chain resturaunt. "But, at least I haven't been to this one!" She said, as if it was a consolation, as they walked in the door. "Usually I prefer places with more local character. Oh, you wouldn't BELIEVE the wonderful little holes in the walls I've found..." She rubbed her hands together.

    "This place is as American as they come, isn't it? Meat on top of meat on top of meat!" She makes a broad gesture at a monolith of a patty melt. "You're not really taking in the local experience, unless you're inhaling something that makes a cardiologist want to take a icepick to the eye!" She sets herself against her patty like a mountaineer, struggling to conquer a treacherous peak, one bite at a time, steady and determined.

    "You know, there's something interesting about the makeup of this country." She leans forward, elbow on the table, taking a break from eating. "A lot of places, civilization is dense. Close-knit together. But in this part of America, the world is wide and empty. A lot of it's usually owned by the federal government, but they don't always do a lot with it..."

    "I wonder what that does to a people living here." She drummed her fingers on the table, after another heroic struggle with her meal.

    "Is this known?"

    "No point in worrying even if they don't!" Ivy raised a cup in the air. "We've still got to eat either way! We'll find a way to them. After all, you're working with the best!"
Regulus Regulus threatened to rig Madeleine's radio so it could reach multiversal stations during their next stop and so that's what Regulus is doing. She doesn't actually end up entering the restaurant, having asked Madeleine to snag her a steakburger and two Dr. Peppers, hold the fries, because she needs to leave more room for the Dr. Peppers.

This means that by the time she catches up, the lunch period has already moved to the outside tables. Regulus has picked one next to the others rather than sticking to the same table as them but it's close enough to chat with them with because she needs a significant portion of her table to hold the removed and opened up car radio. Next to the car radio is an arcane disk. One of the first things Regulus did upon being let out into the multiverse was figure out how multiversal radios work so she's pretty confident in her ability to modify it.

She reaches into her bag and draws out a small container containing some crumbled crystal and bone(?) and gradually soldering into a circuitry-like arcane pattern. Off to one side is her materials, on the other is her phone which is presently on a website that Regulus was working on the html code for periodically during the ride on said phone. It's presently on this webpage: https://rereregulus.neocities.org/leavearecord

Regulus hands the soldering iron and battery back to APPLE who dutifuly dumps it back into her bag. "Pretty sure the website's only getting better, my wonderful first mate!" She says. "Definitely not thinking about how a lady turned into a deer that's also made of bugs because that's not a thing I'm seeing right before lunch, for sure for sure."

''Ozhira returns.''

Regulus's appetite drops. She tries drinking Dr. Pepper instead, almost but not quite over the electronics, before setting it back down, reaching around the radio to do so. Dr. Pepper isn't secretly bugs. Bugs wouldn't survive in Dr. Pepper. Checkmate! She's so good at chess.

"Yeah baby, think we gotta get stylish with the next update. Yeah, even more stylish. That's right, getting into ''placement'', APPLe. That's the way. Vertin's gonna be so thrilled she's gonna be all 'very well done Regulus' and I'll be all 'aww shucks. And the best part is, if we lose connectivity, Poltergeist, Cristallo, and Rabies will still be able to check it out because i saved the files local.'"

She holds up the little circuit board she's made up so she gets a good look at it and then places the top cover of the disk back on and slides it into the opened up radio until she hears a faint click.

"Figure this shouldn't take much longer, least with my part. How's it look to you so far, Petra?"

She spins the car radio around so Petra can get a good looksee.

"Still can't get the music to autoplay..." She mutters, glancing over to the phone on her website, frowning like she knows something is missing (even besides that) but can't quite fenagle just what that is exactly.
Lilian Rook     LAST TIME:
    'Why do you call it Winter Crow? They're usually off looking for food around then right?'

    "Because my Master would always call me 'Senén'." Lilian says. Despite everything going on inside this single vehicle, her smile is distantly fond. "And I stayed through the winter, when I should never have been there in the first place."

    '... Yeah. I don't think I've ever thought about it in those words, but, that's sort of how I view Elite things too.'

    Of course Petra does. She's been loudly saying words to this effect for years. Lilian nods, waiting to feel a bottle in her hand first, then says "What would the point even be, to go through all these risks on behalf of an ideology, if you don't even have anyone you want to help? Anything you want to change?"

    She then takes a full two swallows of sake to get the pills down, and then frowns at Petra. "Really? You didn't bring enough water for more than one drink? I don't need booze for pills."

    'I guess Hydrochoeria's kind of symbolic of that for me, and Trideag is like that for you, right?'

    Lilian stares into the bottle, and then hammers back a somewhat inadvisable amount all at once. Her response to that intrusive thought is to shove an empty bottle back against Petra's chest.

    AND NOW:

    This was a terrible idea. Lilian has learned absolutely nothing from Petra's weird and frightening talk about something to do with college courses about pills.

    At first, she'd just started looking surprisingly tired. When she tried to resume reading, her eyes would slide off the page, and she'd catch herself zoning out every fifteen minutes, then ten. By the time she'd gotten out her tablet computer, she managed to drop it at her feet; something never seen before. Since then has been a steadily increasing stream of decreasingly coherent complaints about being tired, dizzy, 'woozy', and unhappy about culprits ranging from Madeleine's driving (obviously to blame for feeling disoriented and ill), Regulus' music (clearly insidiously chosen to make her irritable and on-edge), Matilda's talking (because suddenly her French is 'confusing'), Petra's . . . something about her shirt? The way she smells?

    After thinking Regulus stole her gun for about five seconds, Lilian channels a sudden burst of irrational anger at Mesmer instead, blaming her for 'bullshit' pills and 'feeling like shit', and then proceeds to complain about every aspect of her outfit as though they were a list of personal grievances; which continues until exactly the point that she catches Norton in the corner of her vision, whereupon she instantly pivots into fawning over the mexican stonecrop like it's her infant son. Ten minutes to the car pulling in, Lilian tells Petra that she's 'such a good plant mom', then laughs about it, then says she 'should be a good mother' with an utterly incomprehensible tone, which then disintegrates into the current state of affairs just before the car parks:

    Lilian has completely forgotten her bag, her activities, and the rest of her stuff, and has been physically adhered to Petra for balance and support. She is currently on minute ten of her continuous stream of consciousness about why someone called Alison is neurotic about her touching 'the arboretum' and how Cecilia won't tell her who put the hydrangeas under the tree. While constantly touching Petra's face. And sometimes squeezing her thigh or pinching her waist when she gets distracted by anything else.
Petra Soroka     LAST TIME

    Petra was not the one to give Lilian opiates, but somehow she has become more responsible for Lilian's current state than Mesmer is. This arms race, taking place only inside Petra's mind, has within thirty minutes escalated to a degree that even Petra has to acknowledge is totally unacceptable. Once the pills are gone, Petra is left, in the aftermath of her decisions, with an empty bottle of sake in her hands, and the knowledge that her behavior over the next day is going to decide whether she lives or dies.

    This leg of the car trip is going to be spent fussing over Lilian in ways that involve zero drugs at all. Once it becomes clear that Lilian is incapable of reading or focusing on anything, Petra attempts to manage her moodlets in the exact same way that she treats Norton's tamagotchi-face, by tentatively introducing stimuli to see if they have a positive or negative effect. She knew from the start that one of the great dangers of this trip would be Lilian's boredom, and if she can't entertain *herself*, then Petra has to do it for her.

    She takes out her DS and tries to talk about the new racing game that she and Nika have been playing, mostly just as flashy lights and colors and positive-sounding babble, and this is at least sort of successful. Using Norton as a hard reset for her mood is much more effective, though, which Petra finds out by accident and then proceeds to heavily rely on. This is *also* just a fantastic excuse for Petra to be glued to her side like a needy dog, supplying her with snacks and extracting skinship in exchange. Once she figures that Lilian's mental state is hazy enough that she won't get mad, she also offers her another fresh water bottle, deciding to just sort of not bring up that she always had plenty.

    Once the car pulls in, even Petra has to be a little nervous about this state of affairs. She practically drags Lilian out of the car, or equally 'is dragged by', lowering her center of balance and walking weirdly to be as smooth of a cane(?) for Lilian as possible. "I don't really think I'd be a good mother," Petra says with a complicated expression but a mostly calming affect. "But I guess kids and pets and plants and stuff aren't all that different from each other."

    Looking over at the chain restaurant dubiously (and then yelping when Lilian pinches her), Petra frowns. "What? I'm not gonna eat *inside*. It's, like, nice outside. It's weird to sit inside a restaurant. And I think if I took Lilian in there then the cops would get called on me for being a serial killer or something."

    Once Petra gradually sets Lilian down on the bench outside, she's kind of starting to look like she's under the influence of something herself. Without the exertion of supporting most of Lilian's weight, her face is weirdly pale, and she shuffles around strangely between heading towards the door of the restaurant, or heading away towards the woods. Right as Ozhira is coming back from the woods, Petra is surreptitiously backing away towards them, and then she startles at their movement, eyes uncannily snapping over to follow them.

    Then she sighs and shakes her head, pulling out a bunch of credits and shoving them towards anyone who'll take them. "Can someone get-- get me a burger? Or two? I probably shouldn't leave Lilian alone."
Foundation Scions     Matilda Bouanich, backseat passenger, and not so oblivious as to be un-worried at the interaction tone her compatriot has been taking with Lilian (and by proxy, Petra), is, so far, and thankfully, oblivious enough to the majority of the intent and unsaid context to it all. Having a mostly good time getting to exist in a place with others who are only bullying her a decent amount, and getting to stare out the window at the passing-by American countryside, it's easy to slip into the illusion that this isn't directly a- maybe not crucial, but official, -mission. Whether the sky outside fits what it should, or the light level and angle is correct, Matilda couldn't say- not only is she not American, she's also a creature of the night! The Great Matilda Bouanich may have the genius brilliance of the Sun, but the only celestial body she could read off-vibes from would have to be the Moon herself.

> Ozhira grows steadily less cohesive the longer the drive takes.

    Mesmer Jr., meanwhile, is having a horrible time. Sitting next to a insect-goo monster who melts more and more each time an incautious eye strays over, has her leaning so far towards the wall of the door at her side that it almost looks like she's fixing to jump. The under-breath muttering about disgustingness and less-coherent thoughtlines doesn't particularly dispel the illusion.

'I don't need booze for pills.'

    "-Excuse me? No, don't drink in combination with that medication. That's absolutely idiotic. It's even written on the bottle." There's actually a worried tone in Mesmer's words- maybe just because she'll actually have to do her job if Lilian gets a severe enough reaction to the combination of strong opiates and alcohol. The expression she makes upon seeing the bottle still in Lilian's hand out of the corner of her eye- and then to see the bottle immediately get slammed back, can only be described as horror.
Foundation Scions . . .

    "Ah, super ! 'Freddy's', this is a local 21st Century American family restaurant, yes?" Matilda has had fast food a number of times that can be counted on a hand, and has frankly no excuse to think this despite that. "Oh, I was hoping there would be such a chance! Quaint, cultural, it most certainly is not an every-day experience to see such things! I am most completely sure, that this will be a nice time!"

'And I think if I took Lilian in there then the cops would get called on me for being a serial killer or something.'

    "That's the average patron of this manner of filthy, unclean establishment," Mesmer says, immediately contrary to every bit of excited tone Matilda is foolishly rambling about, even if endearingly.

>Blaming her for 'bullshit' pills

    Mesmer is decently confident her words won't be responded to coherently, but still says, under-breath, "If you forget to keep breathing, it isn't my fault." She repeats it quieter, concerningly like a mantra.

    When the van stops, Mesmer informs the group she'll be a few, instead of joining the others inside the fast food establishment immediately. She wanders somewhere not visible from interior windows, and only returns to take a seat at the booth a good ten minutes later, smelling of cleaning alcohol, and fainter, of tobacco smoke. She looks more stressed, if anything, visibly hesitating and wrinking up her nose at the prospect of sitting down on the diner bench, taking out a few cleaning wipes to ineffectually sanitize it before she can sit down, sitting posture such that as little of her as possible touches the table, bench, or anything, even with the vinyl coat still serving as a bit of a contact-barrier.

'You're not really taking in the local experience, unless you're inhaling something that makes a cardiologist want to take a icepick to the eye!'

    Mesmer looks visibly perturbed by the sentiment. "Don't inhale your food. It's a disgusting clean-up procedure. The Heimlich maneuver can lead to heart damage, rib injuries, and gastrointestinal hemorrhage." Mesmer only has a glass of icewater in front of her, which she hasn't drunk from, and isn't planning to.

    "Hein? What is the 'Heimlich maneuver'?" "If someone ignores my advice, I'll have to demonstrate." "Oh. Ça ne semble pas bon..." "It isn't."

    Matilda, quieter, goes back to picking at the fries (it's good that the Americans call them 'french fries' instead of just 'chips', she thinks) that she got alongside a bigger-than-expected burger- both food items she's attempting to consume with fork and knife.
Petra Soroka "Having to stop later 'cuz you upset your stomach will cost us more time than taking it easy here."

    Petra's stomach is upset already. It's been upset to varying degrees for a couple weeks now, and it'll be upset when they continue the car ride, and her only option for solving that requires something the girlies tend to refer to as 'binging'. Her expression falls a bit, thinking about tummy troubles.

    Sitting down at the table besides Lilian and drooping against her, Petra suggests, "We should probably stop pretty often anyways. Like, we don't want our legs to cramp or anything. And if the people who stole it're driving without stopping every, you know, hour or so, then their legs are gonna cramp and then when we catch up to them they're gonna barely be able to walk. It's all about thinking about the future."

"But in this part of America, the world is wide and empty."

    "It *is* nice, actually." Petra squishes her cheek on Lilian's shoulder while admiring the landscape, with the pine tree covered mountains to either side. The asphalt and the proximity to a shitty greasy restaurant sort of ruins it, but this is exactly the atmosphere that Petra gravitates towards when on her own wanderings. "This is the best it gets in America, I think. Well, Alaska's really nice the couple times I've been. Maybe we should just drop the center of the U.S. in Alaska and just let all the other states figure something else out."

    She pauses. With no ulterior motives at all, she decides, "I should check out the woods a bit before we head out again."

"I wonder what that does to a people living here."

    "Makes 'em super racist," Petra reasons.

"Figure this shouldn't take much longer, least with my part. How's it look to you so far, Petra?"

    "Oh my god. You actually *can* be smart." Petra perks up at Regulus's tinkering, leaning towards her table and squinting to get a better look. This results in her making an unholy strangled noise like a bird being sucked into a vacuum cleaner when Lilian's fingers dig into her thighs, and she crosses her legs and leans back against against Lilian with her face turning pinker.

    "Er, you're trying to, um... get it to connect to interglobal frequencies instead of just AM and FM, right? Is that magic shit spacially stabilizing it, because radio waves across long distances are especially super vulnerable to local spacial inconsistencies. There's actually a trick to dealing with that, though, if you, uh, can wait a minute for me to show you."

"Quaint, cultural, it most certainly is not an every-day experience to see such things! I am most completely sure, that this will be a nice time!"

    "The world you live in seems really cool, Matilda."

"That's the average patron of this manner of filthy, unclean establishment,"

    "Oh, yeah, absolutely. These sorts of lonely, unmonitored roads, out in the western U.S., small, isolated towns; it's serial killer central out here. There's practically no reason not to do it, since no one can do anything about it if you do. Hell, I've murdered someone in woods like these."

"If you forget to keep breathing, it isn't my fault."

    Leaning up against Lilian, as if she's being protective rather than psychotic, Petra huffs irritatedly at Mesmer. "She's going to be *fine*. You handed her some fucked up unlabeled drugs, *again*, and thankfully *I've* also got first aid training. So there's nothing that she's gotta worry about."
Foundation Scions 'We should probably stop pretty often anyways.'

    "I'd additionally appreciate more frequent stops. It's no small health matter." Mesmer wants smoke breaks. She wants more risk of blood clots.

    "What? But there is so much haste that must be made! Surely, one can stretch and move legs and arms a plentiful amount while seated in an automobile! I, of course, can!" "No. It's not medically advisable, Matilda. I can't agree." "But-! It is possible!"

'The world you live in seems really cool, Matilda.'

    "Excuse me? I- I live on Earth, surely! Not this one, and, with a large number of notable exceptions, I suppose it is a most excellent place, but, I do not think I understand your point! Isn't it worth excitement when one is travelling to novel localities?" Matilda is going to excitedly go order a classic American cheeseburger and form mental notes on how the Foundation cafeteria falls short on 'authenticity', and she is going tp be unsettled by the quantity of grease, the size of the thing, and the general amount of salt. She is going to excitedly wiggle the entire time. With that silly overalls outfit and the hat, and the accent, the cashier in all likelihood might think she's some manner of prankster, not a tourist.

'These sorts of lonely, unmonitored roads, out in the western U.S., small, isolated towns; it's serial killer central out here.'

    "Was the burlap sack part of a trend, for you?" Mesmer, with gloved hands, holds the sides of her ice water glass, and doesn't pick it up.

'She's going to be *fine*. You handed her some fucked up unlabeled drugs, *again*,-'

    "This is my first time, actually, and I *did* say what they were, quite clearly, in plain English." Mesmer's eyelid twitches. The rest of what she says is nearly whispered, "Alcohol? *Alcohol*? There's a limit to the irrational stupidity that I can predict others acting on, and this is beyond it. But you're right. If the combination were to euthanize her, it likely already would have." 'Euthanize' is an uncommon word to use specifically, instead of 'kill' or what-not. Freak.
Regulus ''Because my Master would always call me Senen.''

Regulus racks her mind for a minute and sets aside trying to pronounce it right. Even in the text reminder it's missing the little apostraphe over the e. But she asks, "Like the Saint? Does the word mean crow?" But she smiles. "Honestly love how much thought you put into how you name things, it's fab as heck." She doesn't ultimately gawk at the gun for too long. Regulus is into alchemic devices and rituals but she's not into shooting people with guns and, well, she's a little worried she's going to break it. Not that she's going to try messing with it or anything, but she knows her luck. Eventually she very very very very (very very very very) carefully hands Winter Crow back. She doesn't want to be killed! She remembers the threat! And she's seen Lilian STAB things whereas Regulus hasn't stabbed anyone in her life. Or shot anyone!

She wasn't murdered so presumably she dodged that bullet (metaphorical. sort of.)

''If you forget to keep breathing, it isn't my fault.''

No! Lilian can't die! She feels like they've really gotten along lately! Aaahhh that'd be such a bummer! No way! She squints her eyes shut, willing the universe to keep Lilian breathing.

''She's going to be *fine*''

Perhaps Regulus is god? Lilian is still alive. Her will has made manifest Lilian's survival! Incredible! She considers trying to will something else into reality but ultimately decides that she can only be a god of rock and shouldn't try to misuse this power to, like, get another boat. She retires her ability to make her will made manifest immediately. It's gone now.

''You actually *can* be smart.''

"Yeah, yeah, this is stuff I know! I don't have a lot of uh formal training but I can experiment with what I've got and see what happens and try something else." She pauses. "But yeah that's basically what I'm trying to do. No uh--no rush. I mean maybe it's a little bit of a rush due to the world going all funky but I don't think a minute's gonna change much." She bobs her head. "Yeah you've figured it out. It's to stabilize the frequencies so it comes through clear. I'm hoping it'll still manage even as the world goes topsy turvy here. And ideally even through a Storm should it come to it."

''There is so muich ahste that must be made!''

"Um. You've got a point but I think for uh, morale, we should stop when we can." She looks over to Matilda. "In return, I'll let you pick the next two stations, alright?"
Madeleine Cadrasteia     Madeleine doesn't really notice Lilian fall quiet, because she's two rows of seats away and focused on the road. Once everyone's piled out of the van, however, she narrows her eyes at the developing whatever-that-is with Lilian and Petra. "Are you- should I call a doctor?" A look at Mesmer. "A- do *you* think I should call *another* doctor?"

    "Is this known?"

    "Well, kind of? There's no talk of like, alien invasion or whatever. Whoever's got the center is probably just people like- well, like-" she cuts off the 'you and me', and then the 'me', and then looks around the table to remind herself if there's any normal humans here. "Like- Petra?"

    "I wonder what that does to a people living here."

    "Won't catch me calling it empty," Maddie says between bites. "But I know what you mean. Not many *people*. If you wanna know how people live here, well, look around," she says with a shrug and a gesture at the surrounding townscape. "Same as anywhere else, for most folks. Pave things over, put up a Freddy's, call it home. 'Course that's not how people've *always* lived on this land, but a lot of that history's been, well, paved over. Y'know?"

    Leaning over to Regulus, Madeleine says, "This radio mod had better work. What d'you think of the Dr Pepper?"

    There's practically no reason not to do it, since no one can do anything about it if you do.

    "Y'know, over in Yellowstone - thataways - there's the 'Zone of Death'." A long pause for some french fries. "They call it that 'cuz it's technically illegal to put anyone on trial for crimes they did in the Zone. The loophole's been closed up on some worlds, but not all of 'em."

    Madeleine gestures for Matilda's attention. "Hey, what is it you said you'd need for a better divination? Short of a piece of the Center monument, I bet we can rustle something up if we stop in the right places."

    At length, Mesmer returns and refuses to eat. "You don't seem alright either," Madeleine comments. She takes a moment to consider why this could be, then adds, "Listen, on the next leg how 'bout you sit up front. Regulus is short enough that her leaning over to change the radio won't get in the way of the rear-view, or she can have that APPLe fellow float up to push the buttons. You'll have a better view, helps with the roadsickness. Lemme know if you need us to stop for some bottled water, too. 'Kay?"
Lilian Rook     'I don't really think I'd be a good mother, but I guess kids and pets and plants and stuff aren't all that different from each other.'

    "Okay! Fine, bitch. Good nanny~ How's that? Happy? Because you're right. You'd be a shit mother because you're kinda just basically happy if people become anything at all, you know? If you don't have a kid in mind before you even give birth then you're just a nanny! Haha~"

    This is the general state of Lilian's discourse with Petra. Instead of barely being able to string two thoughts together, the total disregulation of her mental state feels like two people talking to each other over everyone's heads, using their conversation partner as a contextual prop to encode the rest of their meaning to each other. She says 'okay' with a Connacht accent, pronounces everything through 'bitch' in perfect, brutally crisp Received Pronunciation, and 'nanny' only comes across as the natural idiom of 'childminder'. Though innocent, her laughter is instinctively somewhat spine-chilling, for lacking a healthy amount of passive tension. Just laughing by itself makes her ostensibly happy enough to nuzzle into Petra's neck and smile. And from therere,

    'And I think if I took Lilian in there then the cops would get called on me for being a serial killer or something.'

    "Shh shhh. It's okay. Stop stressing out~ Even if they did, what are the cops going to do? Arrest you? Hahahaha! Oh my god could you imagine?!" Lilian staggers down to the bench as though it were difficult, but giggles for a quarter minute solid at something distinctly unfunny, with energy to spare. Struggling to hold her breath, she squeaks out "You'd be like, 'sorry officer, is it in yet?'" and then breaks down into wild laughter at whatever her total non-sequitur made her imagine. "No no no no, that's so stupid. They can't even arrest you anyways. That'd be annoying to me so it's impossible now. Silly little lowborn bitch~ You don't get that it isn't real do you?"

    'We should probably stop pretty often anyways. Like, we don't want our legs to cramp or anything.'

    Lilia nods along, ever so sagely. In her state, Petra must sound totally wise. It's also boring to have her paying attention to anyone else, so she starts walking her fingers up Petra's lower back, deliberately digging her fingernails in under her shirt.

    'There's actually a trick to dealing with that, though, if you, uh, can wait a minute for me to show you.'

    Eyes half-shut, resting her head on top of Petra's, Lilian breathily titters "Oh my god? Here?" before seeming to perceive that she's talking to Regulus at all. This causes her to glance at Regulus like a particularly unpleasant-looking spider for a second, which she forgets as soon as she sees the circuit board herself, and decides on, "Are you two robot buddies? You're so cute together. Is this like skateboard tricks? She's trying to impress you~" The warm and fuzzy thought almost causes her to doze off on the spot. She might have, for about two seconds, before catching herself.

    'There's practically no reason not to do it, since no one can do anything about it if you do. Hell, I've murdered someone in woods like these.'

    Still woozy-balanced between sleep and wakefulness, Lilian's expression turns cloudy, focusing down on something like 'pouty thoughtfulness' that culminates in a slowly rising 'Nnnnnn' sound in the back of her throat. Staring at Petra, Lilian says "Is that true? I thought there was a different reason, but I sort of forgot." in tones that are not quite doubting enough for comfort.
Lilian Rook     'Don't inhale your food. It's a disgusting clean-up procedure.'

    "God you're so stupid." Lilian mutters in the exact same tone she'd used at Mesmer reacting to 'shotgun'. "It's like even your fucking brain can't stand getting used to the filth of words. Heh." Lilian giggles for a short while, then sighs, moody. "God. If only. If they invent sterile wipes for brains then I know what fruit of knowledge I'm un-eating first." she says, mangling metaphors as confidently as can be. Taking in a deep breath, she must have noticed the smell of cigarettes, because what comes out the rock tumbler is, "I bet you taste like shit."

    'Quaint, cultural, it most certainly is not an every-day experience to see such things! I am most completely sure, that this will be a nice time!'

    "Matildaaaa . . . I'm kind to you aren't I? Don't you like the French food at Trídéag?" Lilian whines, from Petra's side. "I'm hungry." she says, glancing at Petra's neck only for a second; that much is enough to fail to grasp how much time has passed since her last sentence. "You're not cross with me are you? Is it because I didn't take my time with your lollipop? I thought you wanted to share your American food . . ."

    'If someone ignores my advice, I'll have to demonstrate.'

    "Not if you choke first~" Lilian says, and descends into irrepressibly dark giggling for the next entire minute, holding her hand over the lower half of her face as if 'impoliteness' were the problem here. The toll that much humour takes on this condition leaves her breathing heavily and squeezing Petra painfully tight to stay upright.

    'So there's nothing that she's gotta worry about.'

    "Mhm~ Annika is use~less, so you have to take care of everything~ Poor Petra . . . Your life is so difficult and nobody understands why. They're never ever ever going to understand, so you can just do what you want." Lilian breathes deep, then winces, perhaps experiencing another wave of dizziness or nausea. She presses her hand against her lap, effectively squeezing her arm to her stomach, and adds "Is that the burgers or you?"
Ozhira > Mesmer's discomfort during the ride.

    Given their own distractions and discomfort, Ozhira doesn't really notice anything about Mesmer. They remain as still as they can, staring straight ahead right up until disembarking and bolting into the woods. Were they truly tuning her out, or messing with her? Is this some sick hunting tactic for hive mind goo made out of prehistoric crabs?

> Bumping into Petra on their way back.

    "Pardon us," is all they say, though at least they're back in their (much more stable) human disguise again. It would probably be a little unnerving to hear that out of a deer. Despite what they clearly wandered off to do, as well, there's no evidence that anything actually happened.

> "It's serial killer central out here.

    "Also, people with cameras," the beast offers, "Who see things they-- should not." Their eyes shift upward in thought, "We also saw-- trail cameras. We avoided them."

> "Whoever's got the center is probably just people like- well, like-"

    Ozhira's head tilts, imitating an inquisitive gesture as Maddie tries to find the right way to say what she wants to say. There's a little nod when she finally settles on 'like Petra'.

    "Serial Killers," the beast repeats Petra's earlier words, "We understand." Wait, no you don't!

    "If the thief is-- like that," Ozhira glances upward in thought, "How would they, steal something, so abstract?" Eyes closing, the creature bobs their facsimile of a head from side to side, "They must, have help. Or, some weird-- tool."

> "I bet we can rustle something up if we stop in the right places."

    "Souvenier shop?" The tone is, once again, earnestly inquisitive.
Lilian Rook     'I'd additionally appreciate more frequent stops. It's no small health matter.'

    "You haven't earned it." Lilian mutters, delirious-ominous.

    'This is my first time, actually'

    The fact that her snort is sarcastic is actually kind of worrying. "What the fuck are you two catfighting about now?" she groans, mostly at Mesmer, because she is whispering and that means everyone is afraid of her finding out. "God. Stop. Just stop. Stop!" Lilian shouts the final word, and not half-heartedly. It's like she suddenly found something to be very angry about in the middle of thinking about something totally different, and the thought had been chased away by the loud noise like a woodland animal.

    "It's your fault I feel like total shit, so don't make it worse. It's creepy when you try to be sneaky. Don't you realize that? I'm already putting up with enough, aren't I? Women who smell like bleach and latex get me on edge even on a good day. Take responsibility. You have to be nice because no jury in the world would convict."

    'Yeah, yeah, this is stuff I know! I don't have a lot of uh formal training but I can experiment with what I've got and see what happens and try something else.'

    "Petra doesn't either!" Lilian says, brightly enough to constitute a jacknife swerve into oncoming traffic. "She learned it from some guy who barely knows how to teach too! I wonder how much of it is just natural? Like, does being a robot make it all make sense, or like, does it work like an 'afflatus' for her too? It's so weird. But you're getting along so well it kinda makes me feel old? Hey Regulus, how old are you? And don't you dare fucking lie. Okay?"

    'Listen, on the next leg how 'bout you sit up front.'

    "Like sitting in front is going to make her normal." Lilian rolls her eyes theatrically. "I bet she'll eat an MRE. She totally would. Hey Petra. Petra. Tell Qetra that . . . Wait, no. Do you have a lab sterile doggy bowl or something? That'd be so fucking funny! Where's my phone? Did I leave it in the car? Regulus do you have my phone?!"
Regulus ''Are you two robot buddies? She's trying to impress you~''

Regulus feels like a sword of damocles is hanging over her head simply for experiencing Lilian in this state but she does like the idea of being 'robot buddies' with Petra both because of the machines and because of the buddies. Her cheeks redden a bit at the idea of trying to impress Petra but she doesn't really deny it. She wants to impress a bunch of people, really. She wants to impress pretty much everybody here but Mesmer and that's mostly because she doesn't think she can really impress Mesmer. She also doesn't feel a strong need to impress Madeleine but that's mostly because she feels she needs to be looking out for her and saving her from a supremacist cult!! She's got all the signs of a vulnerable demographic, she even has spooky eyes. If she doesn't figure something out, her story will end with Sonetto arresting her and, well, she doesn't actually know what the Foundation does to people after they arrest them. Isn't there a whole 'limited space' thing going on? She should ask Vertin sometime about that but maybe it's best she doesn't know the answer?

''It's technically illegal to put someone on trial for crimes they did in the Zone.''

"I don't think technicalities are gonna save you if they really want to getcha, though it might if there's a lot of added hassle."

''How 'bout you sit up front. Regulus is short enough that her leaning over to change the radio--''

Perhaps Madeleine is the Devil. After all, she's clearly trying to get Regulus in trouble AND interfere with her radio manipulation access by putting a Mesmer (sort of) in the way.

"I'm not so sure that's a great idea. Doubt Mesmer wants me reaching past her all the time." And doesn't she need to do rhetorical battle with Lilian? Well maybe not NOW, but.

''God. Stop. Just stop. Stop!''

Maybe, Regulus thinks, she shouldn't just take it at face value that Lilian's going to be fine, actually. Like maybe she isn't going to DIE but--she wishes she was a different kind of alchemist for a moment so she could just brew a conction to fix this.

''Hey Regulus, how old are you? And don't you dare fucking lie. Okay?''

Okay, so maybe Regulus isn't god. Maybe Regulus is the target of god's mischief. Maybe she's just cursed and she can sometimes turn that curse to her advantage but surely not now.

"I'm 28." Regulus says. She always hates getting into ''backstory'' and pointing out her age feels like getting dangerously close to that. What's next she's going to ask? Where she's from? Who her parents are? How'd she get a ship? How'd she meet APPLe? People don't need to know her past because Regulus is gonna be the future, baby. Don't get bogged down in the details.

"The captain learned recently she was no longer viable for something called 'The 27 Club' and she was quite broken up about it." Her first mate betrays her immediately.

"They'll have to rename it." Regulus says quickly, trying to chart these treacherous waters.

''Petra doesn't either! She learned it from some guy who barely knows how to teach too!''

"Huh? Is Petra a robot?" Regulus asks. "Oh sorry, I thought when you said robot buddies you meant like being into machines and tech--"

''Does Regulus have Lilian's phone?''

Regulus is so ready to believe she stole Lilian's phone that she immediately gives Lilian her own phone without thinking.
Lilian Rook     'I don't think technicalities are gonna save you if they really want to getcha, though it might if there's a lot of added hassle.'

    "Yeah, like, if they really hate you, they'll just have you killed without any charges or anything. Locals call it a cold case and shrug. Seriously. Court is all fake." says the woman who pays a mildly infamous legal team and also keeps being casually strange about Flamel's insistence on the ubiquitousness of shadow governments.

    'The captain learned recently she was no longer viable for something called 'The 27 Club' and she was quite broken up about it.'

    "That sounds stupid." Lilian frowns. Studiously as she thinks, she's gotten confused why Regulus' age is important now that it's come to her in a very proper male-sounding voice. Thinking about Regulus, then ships, then travel, Lilian narrows her eyes suspiciously. "This isn't like a mile high club thing is it?"

    'Huh? Is Petra a robot?'

    "Reformed!" Lilian says, proudly, and turns her smiling face so deep into Petra's neck that-- oh that's biting actually.

    Regulus offering her phone causes Lilian to slap it out of her hand and onto the ground. "I don't want that." She doesn't even look away.
Foundation Scions 'A- do *you* think I should call *another* doctor?'

    The 'A-' sound causes Mesmer to glare Madeleine's way, fully 180 degrees from where she'd been corner-of-her-eye staring to look at Lilian and Petra, dead-certain (for no justifiable reason) that the cut off word was going to be her name. "No. I'm more than competent enough, and I'd be able to handle anything an ambulance could, and faster. There's no need for the hassle."

    Mesmer exhales. "If she sits still for too long, I'll check her with a heart monitor. Otherwise..." Mesmer just exhales, and lets the situation go.

. . .

'God. If only. If they invent sterile wipes for brains then I know what fruit of knowledge I'm un-eating first.'

    Mesmer freezes in confusion for a moment at that, more visibly upset for the added fact that she can't even tell what Lilian means. She so obviously holds back on saying anything before she's taken a calming breath, and it so obviously doesn't work. "It's a waste of the oxygen you need to keep drooling out those inane murmurings," Mesmer says, murmuring inanely. At 'I bet you taste like shit', she recoils, stands up, and takes her ice water glass to dump out at a trashcan as a barebones excuse to have a few moments away.

'Matildaaaa . . . I'm kind to you aren't I? Don't you like the French food at Trídéag?'

    "Erm- of course, Ms. Rook? The cuisine français that the Association produces *is* quite excellent! Er, and, I of course hold no ill-complaint at the hasty consumption of a candy such as that? Picrasma supplementations in such a form are, still, a hard-sugar treat, and when one needs arcane energy revitalized, there is little call for savoring them."

    Matilda looks down at the large burger, and, with plastic fork-and-knife, does her best cleanly cut the burger into two halves. Matilda is very concerned about Lilian's current state, and more than a little bit scared, but, she slides the plate over, "If you had wanted to share, by all means! Ah-heh, the portions here, they sure are up to rumored expectations! I wonder if the restaurants of 1928's Chicago are in any way similar..."
Foundation Scions 'Hey, what is it you said you'd need for a better divination? Short of a piece of the Center monument, I bet we can rustle something up if we stop in the right places.'

    "Oh! Y-yes, that's correct, I have been putting thought to it! Short of providing any manner of directly-connected material, my first thought as to ritual components would be an assemblage of mineral components with some manner of geographical memory! I- that is to say, I would suggest the acquisition of banded ironstone, or magnetite, taken out of the grasp of the Earth herself prior to the Center's nefarious robbery. I, er, do not have any in my possession, as this is most certainly not my home." Matilda hums, the ritual-component making enough sense to her that she doesn't feel the need to justify it more.

'Souvenier shop?'

    Matilda shakes her head at that- "No, no, one can not trust the qualit of such establishments! There is a need for exacting materials, after all, and though such establishments are still, in some ways, charming, they are not well-reputed acquisition locaions!" She would love to go to a museum if she could, though.

    Mesmer returns from throwing out her ice water (which she obviously extended by a long amount, it's a quick task), and sits down, immediately regretting that she hadn't just gone back to stay at the van.

'Not if you choke first~'

    "That won't be happening. I refuse to eat here. I'm loathe to breathe the air without a respirator."

'You don't seem alright either,'

    Mesmer sighs. "I'm perfectly functional. But, as to where I sit, it hardly matters. The passenger seat airbag systems are properly maintained, yes? If so, that's fine, I'll move."

'I bet she'll eat an MRE.'

    "Shut up, shut up- each time you let your tongue move, you're more of an embarrassing, incoherent, inconsiderate disaster, overflowing garbage and cockroach-eaten crawling *filth*-" Mesmer, with a frustrated, hoarse whisper, and a reddened face, is doing a bad job matching Lilian's drugged tone, but a good job acting a fool while far more sober. She takes a sharp, shaky breath- "It's rational to doubt the sanitation of this manner of establishment. I'll find food for myself later, I'm hardly even hungry this early on in the day."

    She would eat an MRE. She would totally eat an MRE. She's mad because that's exactly true, and she wishes she had packaged food like that on-hand instead of burger grease hell with soft-drink fountains that, as far as she knows, have never once been cleaned.

'I'm not so sure that's a great idea. Doubt Mesmer wants me reaching past her all the time.'

    "I'll survive. Just don't touch me."
Petra Soroka "I'd additionally appreciate more frequent stops. It's no small health matter."

    "Finally. Mesmer's said something smart." If Petra's worst vice was still tobacco then this road trip would be a breeze. She doesn't even smoke anymore!

"Isn't it worth excitement when one is travelling to novel localities?"

    "No, no, no. You're right. Like, not even joking, you're right." Petra sighs, eyeing the restaurant with a dubious attempt at being interested in it, before giving up and turning away to look at the mountains instead. "I was like that when I first got to the City. There's this fast food sandwich place that everyone raves about, and there used to be one near my apartment. I thought it was so exciting to be able to go try other people's favorites, and see how people used it as a hang out spot, and stuff."

"Was the burlap sack part of a trend, for you?"

    Petra, having spent too much time around a particular kind of woman, quickly looks down at her outfit to assess whether it's being referred to as a burlap sack. Even though she remembers a moment later what Mesmer's referring to, seeing her 'I'M WITH STUPID' shirt having an arrow point down at a belt that says SERVICE DOG on it makes her wonder if she actually really did choose a burlap sack style fashion today.

    "What, with Qetra? No. I basically never do that to her." Petra pulls her mirror pendant away from her chest and flips it open, turning it towards Mesmer. She forgets that, of course, Qetra is not actually inside the mirror, but is instead Petra's reflection-- so once the mirror's turned away from Petra, there's no Qetra to be seen. "See? She's fine."

"Yeah you've figured it out. It's to stabilize the frequencies so it comes through clear."

    "Awesome. I'm so smart and good at tech even when it's magic." Petra nods, proud of herself for guessing right.

"Like- Petra?"

    "What?" Petra looks over at Madeleine confusedly. Hearing her name was the first thing she paid attention to, so she has to backfill the rest of the context from unconscious memory. Being used as the archetypal example present of a normal human makes her belatedly double-take, offended in some vague way.

    "Huh? What? If the people who took that thing were anything like me, then we're fucked, aren't we? Like, what, do you really think they're more similar to me than to you just because your *eyes* are *sparkly*?"

"If you don't have a kid in mind before you even give birth then you're just a nanny!"

    "I-- well, that's-- fine by me, actually. For multiple reasons."

    Petra really is mostly just a conversational prop for Lilian to bounce around. Even she's finding it impossible to keep up with Lilian in this state, juggled around like a dog trying to interpret pretend throws of a ball. But having Lilian clinging to her like this in *public* where people can actually see, rather than in the back of the car where no one was looking, fills Petra with enough reckless confidence to try and change that. When Lilian nuzzles into Petra's neck, Petra reciprocates by resting the bottom half of her face onto the top of Lilian's head, and immerses herself in a dose of psychoactive toxins more lethal than any drug cocktail she could've given Lilian.
Petra Soroka "You'd be like, 'sorry officer, is it in yet?'"

    Petra's unhinged giggling at that can only mean that she, also, somehow finds it funny. If she forgets, for a moment, about the existence of other people and the typical behavioral expectations of existing in public, then the fact that Lilian is laughing is enough reason for her to start laughing all by itself. Severing her own social mooring line by choice, Petra gets swept up a little in Lilian's wild mood swings, completely drug-free.

"You don't get that it isn't real do you?"

    Interspersed with giggles, "God, I mean, I think I *do*, though. But it'd be so funny if they tried, right? Remember that time that mouse or dog cop tried to arrest me? Funniest shit in the *world*. Or, like, imagine Cadrasteia driving down the mountain, and then suddenly there's a fucking *police blockade*, right?" She snickers, imagining the past times she's seen Madeleine interacting with the police. Equally non-sequitur-ing, "Gnome police...."

    "Anyways, I was lying and making up a reason to not sit inside. I just wanted to sit outside instead."

"I thought there was a different reason, but I sort of forgot."

    "There was, but it doesn't really matter," Petra reassures, of Ishirou's murder and the subsequent raid Lilian led on Petra herself. "But it's nice to be where no one can actually see you, right? That's good for serial killers and for normal people."

"Matildaaaa . . . I'm kind to you aren't I? Don't you like the French food at Trideag?"

Heretra intuits that touching Lilian's hair with her hand would result in Lilian instantly recovering from her condition and killing her on the spot, so she pets Lilian's opposite shoulder instead, squeezing her and looking disappointedly at Matilda like she's shielding Lilian from the cruelty that Matilda is enacting on her. "Come on, Matilda, be nice. She takes all that effort feeding you and now you're starving her. She needs at least one whole burger, maybe two."

"They're never ever ever going to understand, so you can just do what you want."

    "That's true, that's true. It's so hard because they've all learned to treat me like you but I'm so brave." Then, casually enough to escape notice, "Well, I mean, take a bite of both and see."

"God. Stop. Just stop. Stop!"

    Petra yelps and startles, knocked out of her fugue like a bucket of icewater poured over her head. Even though it wasn't really directed at her, she's suddenly nervous to the point of being jittery, wide eyes and pupils contracted. Automatically, to self-soothe and more importantly Lilian-soothe, she says, "It's alright. It's okay. I'll keep an eye on her to make sure she's not sneaking around, and I'll-- I'll keep an eye on you to make sure you don't get worse."

"She learned it from some guy who barely knows how to teach too!"

    Still lingeringly shaky, Petra asides to both Lilian and Regulus, "Well, the guy who taught me is one of the smartest people in the whole Sector. He might not have taught another student, and his methods were kind of weird, but he's smart enough that he did actually *learn* how to teach. I guess I did get better at it after the robot thing, but... I mean, there's sort of a sense, with the Silver...."
Foundation Scions 'She needs at least one whole burger, maybe two.'

    "But- I only have the one! I can get another?" Worried, whispered, "Should I? I'll go get another, no, two more! Yes! The service is fast, so, so! Je reviens bientôt!"

    Matilda hops up, hopping on one foot for a second to extract herself from the bench, and holding her little straw hat to her head all the while, before preforming mental calculus as to whether she has enough 21st Century American Money Cash Dollars on her person for such a purchase, a task she'll finish only after she's being rung up by the cashier.

    Be brave, Matilda. Be brave and forage burgers from the wilderness for the incredibly-woozy Lilian Rook, and don't get bitten by diner rattlesnakes, or she'll starve!
Regulus ''Court is all fake.''

Regulus nods along to what is clearly Lilian's wisdom. "Quite right, Lilian." She says, using so much willpower to dodge that . being a !. She doesn't seem to see the incongruency between actions and belief (though after thinking about it, Regulus wouldn't think it really is incongruous at all).

''This isn't like a mile high club thing is it?''

"Ah, no--" APPLe says while Regulus is wincing. "It's a list of famous musicians who died before they reached twenty seven years old."

"It didn't even exist in my time so ''really''..."

''Reformed!''

Regulus is, of course, assuming at this point that Lilian doesn't mean actual robots and is thinking 'bureaucrat' but is so uncertain about relying on that with Lilian in this condition.

''Happy birthday to the GROUND!''

"My phone!" Regulus shouts, lashing out to grab at it after it his the floor. THe phone was on the website at the time so now the website has a new comment on it.

Regulus * within the last minute
ikolja
Like * Reply * Flag

"Noo...."

She collects her precious phone, screen now mildly cracked, and places it back on the table and sighs like someone just knocked over a puzzle she'd been working on for a while.

''The Silver...''

"Oh I met Dimo. She's from the Silver. She gave me something hold on..." Still morose, but slightly emboldened, Regulus lifts up her bag and shows off a little silver metal lotus flower that she has fastened to it along with all the other dongles she's got hanging off of it. "She's totally fab and we're hella in sync, working towards multiversal peace, she's so epic." She doesn't really know what Petra means by a 'sense with the Silver' so she hazards a guess, "Like with who taught you? What do you mean?" But she nods along. The person who taught her--or at least got her started--is a flying apple but that's completely normal AND it's somewhat backstory-esque so she doesn't feel there's even a need to say it.
Petra Soroka "I'm 28."

    "Oh my god. You're so old." Petra blinks at Regulus in surprise, and then squints suspiciously at her. She asides to Lilian, "It's a bunch of musicians that died at 27. Jimi Hendrix," She motions at Regulus, "Kurt Cobain, and... er... probably other people, or else it wouldn't be a thing. Cobain killed himself, though, so it's kind of opt-in."

"Huh? Is Petra a robot?"

    "No, I'm normal. I-- askdhgkssdakhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh--"

    Petra suffers her due punishment for turning her face away from Lilian to respond to Regulus. The noise that comes out of her when Lilian sinks her teeth into her neck is an untranscribable mess of a shriek mixed with a whine, breathy inhaling and exhaling simultaneously to lock up and then slowly keel over where Lilian guides her like an antelope caught by a lion. Rather than escaping away from Lilian, Petra presses even closer, bleary eyed and woozy and practically clambering halfway onto Lilian's lap by instinct alone.

    Panting a bit, and draped against Lilian in a way that Lilian certainly can't support right now, Petra confusedly looks around to try and remember who she was talking to. "I... hh... er, huh...?"

"It's a waste of the oxygen you need to keep drooling out those inane murmurings,"

    Now equally off-kilter as Lilian, though hers is hormonal instead of narcotic, Petra latches onto Mesmer's whining like a torn fingernail to gnaw at. Adding her own inane murmurings to the pile, she burbles, "You should be turned into a plant so that you can feed Lilian's oxygen. Put you in a pot and give you a little face like Norton so anyone's got any reason to care about you."

"I'll find food for myself later, I'm hardly even hungry this early on in the day."

    "C'mon, don't pretend you don't wanna. Just eat and then stick a finger down your throat to bring it all back up, good as new~ you seem like the type, hahaha. Ask nicely and maybe Lilian'll use her finger instead." Well now what is she doing.
Regulus ''Oh my god. Your'e so old.''

"I knoooow..." Regulus whines.

''askdhgkssdakhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh''

Regulus sees an opportunity to change the topic!

"Don't worry about it." She tells Petra enthusiastically.
Madeleine Cadrasteia     ...my first thought as to ritual components would be an assemblage of mineral components with some manner of geographical memory! I- that is to say, I would suggest the acquisition of banded ironstone, or magnetite, taken out of the grasp of the Earth herself prior to the Center's nefarious robbery.

    "Magnetite, got it... Lemme hook up to the internet here, see what's on the way to Denver," says Madeleine. After a few minutes of tapping away on her phone, she looks back up at Matilda. "There's a rock and crystal show at the, ah, Tate Geological Museum? In the city of Casper, in Wyoming. That's about eight hours away, so we might have to go there tomorrow morning, but it's on our way. More information from your crystal ball can't hurt, and by then they might've started moving the center on from Denver anyway."

    If the people who took that thing were anything like me, then we're fucked, aren't we? Like, what, do you really think they're more similar to me than to you just because your *eyes* are *sparkly*?"

    "What? *What?* You think my eyes are just for show? There's things about me I couldn't even explain, much less hope for you to understand. These eyes are the mark of a fell and numinous power, a power which-"

    "askdhgkssdakhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh--"

    "I... hh... er, huh...?"

    "Oh, whatever," Madeleine says, dejectedly eating a couple french fries at once. "You wouldn't get it anyway."

    "Should I? I'll go get another, no, two more! Yes!"

    "While you're up, can you get some more fry sauce?"
Lilian Rook     'It's a waste of the oxygen you need to keep drooling out those inane murmurings'

    Lilian turns away only briefly, and looks at Mesmer with such utterly imperious contempt that she should be standing over her sprawled out on the ground after a fall. With the regal disdain of a philosopher king sentencing a lowly upstart to a life of ingnominy and shame for his actions, she says, "Cunt. I've forgotten more traumatic experiences than you've even had."

    'Funniest shit in the *world*. Or, like, imagine Cadrasteia driving down the mountain, and then suddenly there's a fucking *police blockade*, right?'

    Lilian starts snickering so loud that it's abnormal. Returning her hand to her face, the rising giggle that evolves from it sounds somehow flirtatious. "Right?! It'd be like chasing after godzilla with water pistols! Oh my god my sides hurt!" Somehow she only keeps laughing harder, nodding vigorously over her own laughter at Petra's admission to lying, then having to stop to grab her head and hold still until everything stops spinning.

    'Er, and, I of course hold no ill-complaint at the hasty consumption of a candy such as that? Picrasma supplementations in such a form are, still, a hard-sugar treat, and when one needs arcane energy revitalized, there is little call for savoring them.'

    Unfortunately, Lilian is experiencing an utter lack of regulation and emotional inertia; not an utter lack of comprehension. "What? Picrasma? You're joking! That's poisonous--!" Lilian gasps, struggling partly upright in rising panic. A look of anger flashes across her face, there and gone like lightning that doesn't leave the cloud. She considers blaming Matilda for her state, for feeding her toxic picrasma extract, and then in doing so, realizes that poor little Matilda must be trying to take the blame and keep the peace.

    Lilian puffs out all the air she'd just taken in, and without explaining, she leans forward, strokes the top of Matilda's head, gives her a strangely pitying gaze, and says, "You're really just trying to do your best, aren't you?" at the middle of Matilda's forehead, which she then kisses, before taking her burger-half.

    'Come on, Matilda, be nice. She takes all that effort feeding you and now you're starving her. She needs at least one whole burger, maybe two.'

    "Don't be greedy. There's still lots of food in the mirror." Lilian says, at first soothing, then momentarily lethally sharp on the word "Right?" She forgets to be mad as soon as she's flirted with back, which instantly switches her track to 'raw confidence'.

    How unfortunate as well that Lilian doesn't really know how to eat a greasy diner burger either. She can look dignified about it on purpose, but not when sitting up actively makes her wobble, and not when she nearly fumbles it just retrieving it from Matila's grasp. She looks vaguely queasy about eating it, once she actually stops to stare, but once she gathers up the courage to bite down, enough hunger kicks in (wasn't she snacking just like three hours ago?) for her to start obliterating a quarter pound of meat even despite the uneasy look she has in her eyes about doing it. Her awkward attempts at not being messy about it are neurotically stiff, metaphorically white knuckled in her posture, as if she could make up for her current lack of manual dexterity with muscle rigidity.
Lilian Rook     Lilian listens to most of the conversation happening around her with a blessed air of passivity, content for a while to passively absorb other people's enthusiasm. She squeezes out "Oh, congratulations!" when it becomes apparent to her that Regulus survived being twenty-seven, and lets the names Petra drops slide right off her brain. She doesn't quite finish even half her burger, because it is simply not possible for a woozy-ill Lilian Rook to eat that much dinerslop at once, but she visibly has to catch her breath when she sets it aside anyways, for having attacked it too fast.

    So Mesmer comes back to "No it was definitely you." and Lilian biting Petra a little harder. With 'poor judgement' being top on the symptoms list for this medical interaction, Mesmer is currently insignificant compared to where she can dig her fingernails into Petra and how she can maneuver her the rest of the way into her lap. She only glances past Petra's hair at the respirator comment.

    'I'm loathe to breathe the air without a respirator.'

    Mostly to huff, distractedly, "You really fell off after that, didn't you? And you were so interesting before."

    'C'mon, don't pretend you don't wanna. Just eat and then stick a finger down your throat to bring it all back up, good as new~ you seem like the type, hahaha. Ask nicely and maybe Lilian'll use her finger instead.'

    "God. Disgusting. No way." Lilian moans, actually looking queasy at the thought. Ordinarily she'd join in and be nasty about it, but she can't not imagine that picture while struggling to focus on anything like this. "I don't wanna see that. If you're going to make her throw up then do it somewhere else. Don't be foul."

    She was probably intending to play-shove Petra. Her coordination isn't nearly that good. Her strength isn't actually impaired either. It's enough to knock Petra off her lap completely, and her quarter burger off the bench as well; fortunately in different directions. Even only hitting asphalt, though, seeing the greasy half-eaten food-pile splatter unpleasantly on the ground makes Lilian tense up. A look of stricken distress comes over her, followed by short, shallow breaths, and then a strained noise from the back of her throat as she finally turns her gaze away and presses her hands to either side of her head. She both looks and sounds as if, all of a sudden, she's trying not to cry.

    'Shut up, shut up- each time you let your tongue move, you're more of an embarrassing, incoherent, inconsiderate disaster, overflowing garbage and cockroach-eaten crawling *filth*-'

    Lilian either gags or defeats a sob; though it could be both. Her rapid breathing takes on a nearly vocal quality. Her fingers curl into her hair and her knees press together uncomfortably hard.

    'It's rational to doubt the sanitation of this manner of establishment. I'll find food for myself later, I'm hardly even hungry this early on in the day.'
    'I'll survive. Just don't touch me.'

    "Do you have something to say? Have some fire back in you, hm?"

    Lilian bolts up out of her seat, ostensibly inexplicably livid all of a sudden. The sudden motion makes her stagger forward, refusing to use the bench as support, but her rapid stumble carries her in the direction she was going anyways. Slamming into Mesmer, Lilian grabs a creaking fistful of her vinyl duster instead, dragging her in tightly enough to taste her perfume, and force her onto her tiptoes to stand. Even that much exertion has her breathing heavily.
Lilian Rook     "I'm listening." Lilian says, pitched up to breathy-threatening. "Isn't this what you want? When did you get so shy, little Annika. Are you just lonely?" Condescension comes to her instinctually. Her belittling tone is as on-point as ever, for the short time it lasts; up until she leans in distressingly close to Mesmer's ear, and whispers too loudly, "Go on. Tell me I'm wrong. Because if I misunderstood you just now, then everything is fine. I'll forget I heard it. But if you just want my attention, Mesmer, then you're worthless to me."

    The intensity of it all is exactly as much as would take significant quantities of drugs to induce. The fact that Lilian wobbles as she says it doesn't make being grabbed at this range any less hair-raising. It'd be easier if she just looked insulted; then calming her down would be straightforward. Whatever she's emotionally hyperfixated on is somehow much more intense yet much harder to identify. And yet, the animal signals she gives off just from her body language alone are inches away from a parking lot murder.
Regulus ''This radio mod had better work. What'd you think of the Dr. Pepper?''

Regulus finally takes a long drink of the Dr. Pepper. "Mm... It's not bad." She admits. "But it doesn't quite hit the same as what I'm used to and the bottle shape is inferior, This plastic bottle doesn't feel quite right. Drinking a soda pop shouldn't be casual, the vibe is important, you need to feel a certain way like..." She gestures with her hands. "Like you're taking a load off, not just fulfilling some thirst you know? The experience is as important as the beverage."

This doesn't stop her from drinking more Dr. Pepper though. She might have opinions, but she's not so particular as to reject Dr. Pepper.

"The weight's all wrong too." She murmurs before shaking her head. "Course the radio mods will work. Radio's my thing." She seems a little offended at the idea that it won't! The chance that it'll completely drain the van's power is so miniscule it's not even worth mentioning!

''Oh, congratulations!''

Regulus says, "Thank Vertin." Regulus says, suggesting that if it wasn't for THE INTERFERENCE FROM THE TIMEKEEPER he would've made that 27 Club after all. Even if nobody knew it.

''When did you get so shy, little ANnika.''

This isn't the first time Regulus has heard Annika but this is the first time that Regulus does something about it. Namely, she scootches closer to Petra and asks in a whisper.

"Is Annika Mesmer's code name or something?"
Ivy Carrow     "Same as anywhere else, for most folks. Pave things over, put up a Freddy's, call it home. 'Course that's not how people've *always* lived on this land, but a lot of that history's been, well, paved over. Y'know?"

    "Of course!" She said, emphatically, "But it has its own texture, too! The 'blood' of society moves more slowly, from organ to organ, stretched across an expanse--often a thin skein, with large expanses untouched..." SHe considered, a morose look falling over her face.

    "I wonder whether it was always that way, or if the societies that were out here before were all scoured away so much that I can see." Her point was undercut slightly by an ice cream mustache over her lip. "Maybe Petra is right the other way around--maybe it's not racist because it's 'empty.' But racist because it was made empty."
Petra Soroka "You're joking! That's poisonous--!"

    Petra does not know what Picrasma is. Suddenly she is forced to consider that it's possible that every single person in the car was feeding drugs to Lilian, which makes her *much* less at fault for what happened. On the other hand, it also means that she was being incredibly reckless, by not assuming by default that everyone was going to commit violence on Lilian, making her quick research into the likelihood of Lilian dying from interactions between opioids and alcohol *insufficient* because of the addition of even more poison!

"There's still lots of food in the mirror."

    "There's lots! There's *lots*. Both Cecilia and I packed plenty." Mirroring Lilian, Petra swaps from proudly reassuring, to defensive, to proud again. "But if we get an extra burger, I could keep it warm in case you want it in a couple hours. Otherwise it's all refrigerated."

    Like a smug cat, Petra wiggles her way into Lilian's lap and then anchors herself there. Tilting her chin up and to the side, she's simultaneously making herself as easily interacted with as possible like a doll, and *extremely* smug about it, as if she's the one winning here.

"Don't be foul."

    "Wah-- sorry, sorry, sorry." Being shoved off of Lilian's lap is business as usual, and she just parkour rolls by habit when hitting the asphalt to avoid getting scraped. She pops back up, about to just rejoin Lilian on the bench, when the sound of Lilian almost crying makes her stiffen up. Sent into fretting overdrive, Petra paces back and forth helplessly for a moment, wringing her hands. She glances towards Norton floating by the car, but running over and showing Lilian a plant like she's playing peekaboo with a toddler seems unhelpful.

    "Ah-- sorry, oh no, ack--" Petra pours out a palmful of Silver and spills it onto the parking lot ground. Shimmering mercury snakes across the asphalt to wash over the fallen burger, curling up around it in a bubble to shield it from Lilian's view. The bubble condenses on every axis, crushing the burger and digesting it into molecular carbon and nitrogen, until the offending mess is vanished and the parking lot looks thinly electroplated in its wake.

    "Er, do you want a sandwich instead? Or just some water? Or maybe we could wait... until...." Petra trails off when Lilian's mood shifts again. She lamely lets the sentence die off with a sigh when Lilian fixates on grabbing Mesmer and leaning into her ear, aimlessly backtracking a few steps to give the two of them space.

"Is Annika Mesmer's code name or something?"

    "It's her whore name," Petra gripes to Regulus in a heated whisper. Scoffing, "It's obviously her real name. Why do you even care?"

    Fully expecting that no one (mostly Lilian) will be paying attention to her at this point, after she's been thoroughly worked up and frustrated like a jilted punching bag, Petra takes her hands off of the picnic table and straightens up. Not raising her voice from an unassertive conversational volume so that it gets lost in the mess of other nonsense, she says before walking away, "Whatever. I'm gonna go hunt small prey animals in the woods. I'll be back before we leave."
Regulus ''It's obviously her real name. Why do you even care?''

"Her code name has ''Junior'' in it?" Regulus says like this is her whole problem with the idea. As for why she even cares-- "Uh mostly because she talks to me a lot?"

''Whatever. I'm gonna go hunt small prey animals.''

Oh no, Regulus thinks, this is terrible! One of the great enemies of the free love movement: Jealousy! And now she's Ozhiraing off into the woods, just minus the turning into the deer part and oh no now she's thinking about Ozhira being a deer full of bugs...! This is terrible, this is awful!

"Bguhhhh..." Regulus groans terribly.
Foundation Scions 'There's a rock and crystal show at the, ah, Tate Geological Museum?'

    "Ah, super! To do two things at once, how excellent! I am most hopeful that that will do perfectly, yes!" Matilda is very excited! That sounds fun, cool, and it's at a museum! Triple threat!

'You're really just trying to do your best, aren't you?'

    Matilda constantly craves positive attention and affection! However, this circumstance is really fucking weird! Is it ethical to accept praise by someone on a lot of drugs? Also, is that pity in Lilian's eyes? Pity isn't really great, but-! "Of course I am! And succeeding, certainly, with the talent and diligence I possess!" Matilda may be stunlocked but that doesn't actually mean she can't emphatically agree with something positive-skewed about her, in fact, it means she's certain to.

'While you're up, can you get some more fry sauce?'

    "Ehhh? But- er, certainly! I will be back quickly, all the same!" Matilda wobbles a little, and dashes off inside.
Foundation Scions 'C'mon, don't pretend you don't wanna.'

    "I don't." It hardly matters how convincing her words are- Mesmer *looks* nauseated at the prospect, the more it's poked at. Mesmer's eye twitches, again, and her hands stay firmly crossed in her lap. "The induction of emesis isn't safe or sanitary to do manually, no matter whose fingers are involved. It's a disgusting prospect, and I'll ask you once to cease. Syrup of ipecac functions perfectly enough for the timely treatment of swallowed poisons, which, with any responsible, rational thought, includes here."

    Her nose is *so* wrinkled up from all the obvious anger.

'Do you have something to say? Have some fire back in you, hm?"

    Mesmer throws a quick glare, not at Lilian, but at Matilda, as if there's really any call for her to blame the Monitor Assistant's vigilance and long-since-faltered demand that Mesmer be normal, instead of her own attitude. "It's impossible to take you seriously like-"

    Mesmer shuts up the moment Lilian bolts upright, the sudden motion setting off her over-tuned alarms of danger, making sure she herself stands up, and takes a half-step away from the bench. When Lilian collides with her, at the same time she's tugging at the vinyl shell jacket, Mesmer's hand is on her K-Tope Calibrator, twisting it off its belt-clip and aimed roughly in the direction of Lilian's torso- her other hand, in a frantic motion, but at least decent proof in itself that she has been having to attend self-defense courses, swings around to elbow-shove some space between them.

'I'm listening.'

    For the exact length of one exhale, Mesmer is stock-still frozen, and in the second where if she were in her right mind she'd have pulled the K-Tope Calibrator's trigger, betraying anything the classes taught, she instead unceremoniously tries to jam it into Lilian as a means to push her away, with the same force as if she were trying an honest to god punch, destabilizing her footing in the momentum and stumbling forwards with it, and once she realizes she's off-balance herself, utterly incomprehensibly, in an action that can only turn out worse for her, Mesmer tries to headbutt Lilian.

'Go on. Tell me I'm wrong.'

    With a shrill enough tone that, as Matilda returns with burgers and fry-sauce, ought to be enough to alarm her compatriot into dropping the tray, Mesmer spits out, chest heaving from adrenaline- "You impossible, psychotic animal! What good could your attention possibly do for me? Excuse me, but I'd prefer to be worthless to you, with the clear and present danger you present to my safety and my career, but I don't want your attention, for the exact same reason." Never once has Mesmer's reaction to condescension been a sane and rational one, and especially not one that has ever taken relative power dynamics into account. Her voice is painfully strained and nasal- "I want you under a restraining order, but I'd settle for just five minutes of peace and quiet."

    In the next gap of action and word she gets, Mesmer spins, still off-balance, to trek back to the van and sulk for the aftermath to blow over and go back to her job- that's not a technique that ever really works out like the hope, but without the chance to go walk a lap and cool off, it's the best she has, even if the thought most present on her mind is the certain-to-come incident report.
Foundation Scions 'Is Annika Mesmer's code name or something?'

    A quite-shellshocked Matilda, setting extra burgers and fry-sauce down on the table, answers, with nearly-real dizzy-eyes, "Apparently, that is, er, son prénom? Her first name. I think, perhaps, with the reminder, she may have used it more at her time with the SPDM, but..." Awkward, "Is it not most proper to call her 'Mesmer Jr.', now? Everyone does, I assume it must be, given that. Does she dislike it that much?"

'It's her whore name,'

    "Ms. Petra! Please do not call her that! She is both an associate, and- and a former classmate of mine! Her behavior is, er, out of line, but-!" Matilda looks less upset and more worried and hurt, at that all. "Je pense que ce n'est pas ce soit quelque chose de drôle..."
Lilian Rook     It's not the first time Mesmer has reached for her gun, figuratively and toyetically, like this, though it is only the second. The first time was such a pitiful display that it was responsible for Lilian's own 'eminently killable' assessment. The second time, Mesmer is somewhat better trained, and Lilian is vastly less coordinated. She reaches for it by instinct, or rather, for Mesmer's wrist, to twist and break it instantly, if she judges by the motion she makes on the air as she misses by an inch.

    Painkillers or not, having a gun slammed into the spot she'd already been shot obviously hurts a lot. Lilian's eyes shoot open wide, her pupils constrict, and the noise she makes is more of a choking one than a gasp. Even then, one third of the reason she backs up is pain, and the other two thirds is accounted for by an an electric jolt of instinctive panic, the feeling of a muzzle pressed into her waist still traumatically fresh in her mind. It's enough space for Mesmer to get momentum behind her ridiculous headbutt; one that certainly harms her more than it does Lilian, but which frees her duster from Lilian's grip when she claps both hands over her nose, and then loses her balance completely.

    She wasn't joking about what she said to Matilda and Sonetto at least; it looks as if she'll hit the pavement face first for a split second, but even in this horrendously impaired state, she twists and catches her weight with her knee (freshly skinned) and raises one arm protectively in front of her head while reaching for her belt with the other on instinct.

    'You impossible, psychotic animal! What good could your attention possibly do for me? Excuse me, but I'd prefer to be worthless to you, with the clear and present danger you present to my safety and my career'

    It takes her two dizzy, reeling seconds to realize what's actually happened. Lilian's fingers twitch once around the empty space where her sword hilt isn't, and then the combined shock finally makes tears well up, catching in her eyelashes and blurring her vision. The sheer adrenaline crash of it all has her physically trembling; she makes an attempt to force herself back to her feet on defiant impulse, suddenly painfully aware that Mesmer is screaming down at her on one knee, and fails. Her rebuttal is rapid breathing and a strangled noise of teary frustration, followed by some emotion some intense that her teeth chatter.

    'I want you under a restraining order, but I'd settle for just five minutes of peace and quiet.'

    "Where are you going?!" Lilian tries to shout after Mesmer, but it comes out too shaky and disoriented to sound anything but pathetic. "No you don't! we're not done here!" This time she raises her voice, hoarse at it is, to the point it cracks. "Where do you get off--" Lilian finally pushes herself up with both hands, regaining her balance after only a brief stumble. "--acting like you're better than me?!" She grabs at her necklace, tearing it away from the breakaway clasp.
Lilian Rook     'Ms. Petra! Please do not call her that! She is both an associate, and- and a former classmate of mine! Her behavior is, er, out of line, but-!'

    For the first time ever, Lilian shoots a look at Matilda that may as well be lethally poisonous. She begins say something, glances just once around the gathering, then hurried shuts her mouth again. She can't help looking once more, just in case she somehow missed Petra the first time, and the second sting of her having left makes Lilian's face turn red and her fist curl so tightly that it shakes. "So that's what you all think." she says, terse, incomprehensible, equally betrayed and strangely relieved.

    "Then I'll be in the woods too. Since I'm an animal and all." Lilian blurts out, before she actually means it. Her arm takes the pose just one gesture away from releasing her sword, as if seriously contemplating just running Mesmer through anyways, until the very idea of doing it now seems so mortifyingly embarrassing that she can't stand being there. A situation she remedies with a choked "Damnú ort!" and disappearing.

    She'll be back in thirty minutes once she's found Petra, and by then she'll remember half of what happened only as an archetypically symptomatic nauseous haze. Then probably pass out in the car shortly after.