Scene #7203:

Owner	Pose
Lilian Rook	With the prolonged time in Japan coming to a close, Lilian's 'exchange deployment' having expired and allowed her to return home on good terms in future, the girl is obviously quite happy to see home again. Even if it's away from all the colourful and exotic cultural sights and sounds of (the nicest parts of) Japan, somewhere quiet and secluded and strangely unchanging, which she knows like the back of her hand, home is home. It involves a certain amount of time of 'wallowing in it', spending a lot of time in areas she doesn't normally go to, and freshly appreciating what she'd been away from for a while. This also entails showing Tamamo around to new parts of that labyrinthine household, always having deceptively more space inside it than previously thought, never finished with its odd tricks of architecture and expectation, so much of it a sort of strange, nebulous no-man's land between a number of mages who barely cohabitate, where only maids dare tread freely and routinely. She assures Tamamo she will like this one. Lilian has even changed into bright and breezy clothing, despite being in the dead middle of a house large enough that natural sunlight has little prayer of finding enough windows to reach past the outer third, and steadfastly maintained at a temperature slightly below what human beings are supposed to find casually comfortable. She's navigated through the landings to one of the main orthogonal thoroughfares on the second floor, taking some tight twists that would be all but invisible at a blind inspection, an obnoxiously narrow, tall, and serpentine passage of checkered tiles, odd paintings and wall lamps straight out of a mystery set, and finally up to an elegant doorway that seems very out of place. White wood is barely more than a frame for pale green and gold stained glass mounted in elaborate silver framework, clear enough to see the glow of sunlight coming through from the other side; it's a sensible conjecture given that this would more or less be where a courtyard would be situated in any keep or old-fashioned mansion. The weird hairpin bends it's behind guarantees that none of that light or warmth extends beyond this entrance, nor does the faint tingling air around it, adding yet more little eccentricities of the old construction to the pile. Also, when Tamamo catches up, she offers her a big white sun hat (with thoughtfully added ear holes she must have gotten someone to tailor), and picks up a tray of empty glasses sat atop a narrow decorative table. "So, I figured it was about time, and it'd be a lovely idea to bring you here~" she greets Tamamo, more than a little conspiratorially. "I haven't strictly asked ahead, but then I don't strictly need permission any more. There are lots of things I want to share with you, and I have no doubts left at this point that I could share all of them. Just, so long as you don't go telling everyone, okay?"
Tamamo	Tamamo no Mae, in her latest incarnation upon this planet, has been quite enjoying her time in this new Japan. For all the strange sights to which it has been subjected in recent years, some of this world's own problems, and some multiversal, perhaps her own presence could serve as the opposite example of the exotic. Though the Sun has no nationality, she is a Japanese deity (for reasons left undisclosed), and her aesthetic and temperament are suited to that now-ancient land. What she can do to provide a sense of the continuity of the familiar divine, she does happily. But she does not stray far during this vacation-of-sorts, even for the sake of her grand question. Her attention has been increasingly focused, in that respect. Even if she spends time away, she spends much more being 'somewhere' in Lilian Rook's vicinity. It is an often quiet presence, and as they return to the isles upon the opposite ocean, they may return to separate rooms, but Tamamo is always closer than those 'barely cohabitating.' She is one who visits, allows visitation (if only for her miko and occasionally, dutifully tasked maids), and commandeers the kitchen whenever she would like, which is fairly often. The results she gives freely, some more experimental than others. Acquiring her attention for further exploration is, therefore, a simple matter. She does comment, upon mental calculation and fresh realization, "Has your family thought to employ cartographers for the grounds, perhaps?" That would make for a difficult floor plan. "You will not tell me the architects need be sealed beneath the basement, lest they tell of each secret passage, I hope?" She's smiling, so she's probably joking. But then, she smiles a lot, in Lilian's presence and otherwise. She accepts the hat with an appreciative, "Oh, this is most kind," her ears giving a flick of surprise as she feels the cut-out holes, before she settles it onto her head. They're still again once put through, and it doesn't really fit her blue robes, but that's not a problem for long. She reaches up to feel the brim between her fingers, glances side-long at Lilian's garb, then snaps her fingers. Whether the snap was an 'aha,' sort of realization or a part of some spell, the Eastern-styled ritualist's outfit she usually wears unfolds itself and melts away, swiftly (to a publicly, socially just acceptable degree) being replaced with a pale sundress, more in matching with her new hat. The two still contrast with all of her gold jewelry, but that departure from simplicity seems not to bother Tamamo's sense of aesthetics. "Well, now, what are a few more secrets, between we two?" Beaming, "I shall keep however many you wish, my Lilian."
Lilian Rook	Lilian actually needs to give the joke question a moment's though, of all things, twisting the handle with a very clean click-clack with one hand and balancing the tray in the other. "Mmm, I think a map would be besides the point. If you live here, you should eventually be able to memorize it all. If you work here, then the whole floor plan isn't really your concern; if you need to get somewhere, then the seniors would tell you how to get around. That's an advantage of having the same few families on retainer for so long. I actually kind of doubt a map exists. It'd be a fun evening, albeit~" With that, and a gentle push, the door swings open. Despite the century and a half old taste of the immediate area, the movement couldn't be any more smooth and silent. Sunlight floods in from the other side, brightening the dim passage of checkered tiles, deep red walls, and dark wooden trim, to a degree that it looks all out of shade. Warmth kisses the skin, and a faint, breezy rush of humid air naturally comes past to equalize pressure. Though it's barely more than decorative glass, the doors may as well have been a foot of lead for how completely they'd silenced the sounds of birdsong, insect chirps, rustling leaves, the quiet footsteps of a tiny handful of attendant staff, and if one strains to listen, a few more odd things still. This is clearly not a courtyard. Not in the traditional sense. Though it is 'within the mansion', or rather, 'surrounded by the mansion', it's far too big to occupy this particular space and not exclude the opposite side of the mansion from existing. At a best guess, it probably has almost similar spatial dimensions to the building itself. Furthermore, it is unseasonably warm and sunny, with a sort of middling quasi-tropical humidity that means sweating a whole lot if one eschews the shade during physical activity. The sun overhead roughly matches where it should be outdoors, but the sky is much too blue and clear and perfect for the unremarkable cloudy soup beyond the walls. That crystal clear view is kept beyond the tessellating triangles of sweeping glass construction overhead, forming an exceptionally large, circular dome over the surroundings for quite some distance. Even then, the air tastes almost the same as up on Mount Fuji, in that crisp and unsettled way, and it carries the same character of 'licking a battery' tingle. Actually, that part is fair more intense here. Every breath is an invigorating lungful of air so dense with magic that it just barely begins to condense into an invisible sort of mist. It's a few notches short of the grounds of Arx Zenith, though that feels, in some capacity, partly due to those glass walls. The contents are perhaps almost not quite surprising, given all those points. Tamamo and Lilian both are indeed still on a second floor, on a white balcony with two sets of curved stairs that sweep to ground, but everything beyond that is what could only be called something like a giant terrarium. A museum exhibit. An artful reconstruction of a picture perfect biome, all organized neatly and accessibly so the least walking can come across the most variety in the shortest length of time, while still looking pretty. It's a veritable forest, garden, and fields all in one, divided up by curling and splitting pathways of white flagstones.
Lilian Rook	Barely a single thing around is what would be classified as an earthly organism. While there are ample places where hanging vases and compactly organized plots grow attractive arrays of common and rare medicinal herbs, as well as some recognizable as toxic, or primarily only useful for extracting dyes and solvents and such, the vast majority is given over to specimens that are simply nowhere to be found on modern Earths. Specimens that were no doubt rare and valuable even before armageddon. Even more valuable now. Things that must have taken centuries to collect, centuries to cultivate and grow, and centuries to multiply, no doubt transplanted multiple times in past. Tiny fields of captive wildflowers, creepers, and berries of folklore and mythopoetic origin are bordered by carefully arranged gardens of flowering fruits and bushes of vivid hues and improbable sizes. Ancient stones of specific design and dimension have been hauled in to serve as geometric field markers and faces upon which to inscribe various rune blessings. An indoor stream fills pools for water flowers to float, and coats rocks for specific kinds of moss to spread, as well as feeding dark, damp, sheltered areas for rings of mushrooms to grow. Vines crawl high up seel lattices, and the center is dominated by an orchard of several trees, each one of a kind at its fully matured size and ancient gnarled dignity, bearing peaches, apples, figs, flowers, golden leaves, and something unidentifiable in order. Though it is perhaps incidental, the 'wildlife' that is more tolerated living here than actively cultivated is about the same. Colourful birds that no longer exist on Earth, fish spawned from tales though to be old and erroneos misconceptions, insects vaguely described in ancient textbooks or slightly less ancient journals thought to be fraudulent. Since there appear to be no staff bothering animals specifically, one could assume they exist more for the purposes of natural ecological relations with the plants around them. And yes, there are staff. They can't be called maids at this point; they are gardeners proper. Faces Tamamo never sees around the house, though undoubtedly they can't possibly have anywhere to sleep here. Men and women in breathable attire, old-fashioned hand tools, the occasional mystery concoction, and all of them wearing face masks of a sort. There aren't a ton of them. Few enough that it looks to be a small core of well-read specialists who are allowed to work here. Outside of performing extremely delicate care on a bewildering collection of species, a handful of them are also set to carefully harvesting bits and pieces here and there, stopping short of anything that could be called 'reaping' by far. The size of the huge pseudo-atrium isn't so big that Tamamo can't see the opposite wall on the other side, but it's definitely big enough that being exceedingly gentle and precious with its contents would still add up to a lot of material. There are also, oddly, tables. And benches. All doing the white wood and glass motif, though some with cushions involved. Some are probably definitely for staff to actually sit down, but the one Lilian leads Tamamo to, down a number of constantly curving sub-paths, near to the orchard at the center, is very clearly meant for definitely not staff to sit at. She puts the tray down without explaining why she has it. "So? Thoughts first."
Tamamo	"So long as the layout does not change," Tamamo says, "one may learn it so, yes? One may hope that your home's spirit never becomes quite so wakefully mischievous." This doesn't seem like a large present concern, at least. And if a house-kami did awaken, even this far west, surely it would take kindly to those meant to be there. They go inside, and Tamamo tilts her head, looking up enough for the hat not to cover her eyes a moment, before looking down and around again. She hums, breathes in, and stretches out on her toes--having swapped for lower-heeled sandals, unnoticed, in the preceding minute. Her arms stretch out behind her, wrists turning back and forth, fingers curling. She drinks the atmosphere in. "Mm, even for an island, it is rather humid, no? Ah, but it is far too well-manicured to be a jungle. Still, without the sea, one may not easily wash away the heat. Apart from this, I quite like such a climate." She licks her lips. "Hm, but this taste... it is unlike that to which one is accustomed. Perhaps, that to which one /should/ become accustomed, if one is... ah, but do not mind such a topic." Putting aside whatever that was, she walks up to the balcony railing, a spritely sway to her tails and bounce to her step, and leans over for a better look. They continue on, and though she has been expressive enough thus far, she saves further words for when they sit, after a quiet, subtle glance toward the tray. "How interesting. It /is/ a garden, and yet... for some number of purposes has it been planted, no? Not only for its appearance, and not only for the preservation of unusual specimens within a menagerie. It is, too, for that which can be taken away, is it not?" The gardeners do give that impression, as sparingly as they harvest. "I should like to see much of it. These include some samples from 'other' worlds, no? Or, perhaps, such diversity remains upon the long list of tasks one might expect the successor to accomplish, as many roads have opened in recent years."
Lilian Rook	"I think 'learning to deal with mischievous' is probably in our blood by now." Lilian replies to Tamamo. "In multiple senses." She turns just enough to stick the tip of her tongue out. "Besides, don't you think I can be a little mischievous myself?" Tamamo doesn't have to be overtly expressive about it for Lilian to get an idea. She's grown used enough to the fox to be start to be able to pick up on things. Even if it's little more than a rough outline, she is more than happy to sincerely say "I'm glad you like it~" her step picking up to just shy of too excited. "It's one of the two major roots to the family's history. The house is very old, but it's not the first thing they built. It's several centuries too recent for that." "Remember that I told you before, that the old, old history of the line was a line of seers, healers, prophets, and ordainers of champions and kings, and at the same time, an order of knights and leader of slayers, dedicated to purging the isles of the inhuman and wicked, one more public and the other more private. Those traditions being passed down, even if they change shape throughout time, pass down things along with them. That old magic required, and still requires, a great number of difficult tinctures, incenses, offerings, imbibements, medicines, and other things. The sensible thing, rather than sending fools on quests all the time hoping to bring pieces back, is to cultivate your own. This started as a private garden forever ago, and was handed down and handed down, growing a little more when each generation found need, or imagined the use of, something new, until here we are." Sitting down and folding her leg, Lilian spreads her arms wide and says "This is the atrium! It's either the most or the second most important thing the family owns, depending on who you ask. Your eye is right; a lot of these things are from overseas, or are completely extinct, or found their way from the Other Places; ones aside from just Tir na nOg." She then leans forward, putting her elbows up on the table. "And of course it's arranged. If you're going to have something for so long, it'd best be pretty to look at an easy to find what you need, right?" "Traditionally, it 'belongs' to the women in the family. Right now, Allison still manages pretty much all of it, though Katrina starts up her own little projects here and there when she brings something back from abroad. I might have a use for it eventually, but I haven't learned any of those magics, and I'm not sure I see myself getting into them for a while . . . but I had thought it might be nice to find a place for things from other worlds entirely. If anything truly worthy catches my eye. At least, it'd be like my mark on it, you know? Something only I would do. A little page in the book that says I was here and did something exciting." She stops musing long enough to explain the last detail. "That 'taste' though, it should be sort of familiar, right? The Atrium doesn't exist in the house proper. Rather, there is technically a normal atrium, but it was built 'overtop' of this place; the two are a similar concept, and connect to each other sympathetically."
Lilian Rook	"A lot of what you see here would stop bearing seeds, or even wither away and die, without the magic-dense conditions they grew under. When even strong leylines started losing their potency during the middle ages, it had to be 'relocated' to a sort of private place. A pocket of world existing contemporaneously with the real one, where the conditions can be sharply different, and one doesn't influence or bleed out into the other. This one is big enough that no singular person could support it for long, so the places you can build one are limited. I hear that back in the day, its 'true' location was sort of piggybacked on the shores of Tir na nOg, but nowadays it's located on a family plot on the Hidden Continent, where the ambient magic is already, intentionally abnormally high." "That's the same place as Allison's little institute; her place of work that is. The same place as Arx Zenith. You've been to both."
Tamamo	Tamamo smiles, but doesn't further comment on Lilian's capability toward particular behaviors, whether nice or naughty. Instead, she listens to matters of history, of this area, this family, and this house. "As much as one may see while looking down upon the land from above the highest mountain, lands into which the fae do flee are quite outside any sights I may remember, save those most recently traveled." Once with Lilian, and another time, without. "'Allison'... yes, I do recall that visit, of course." She notices something, there, once again, but smooths over from a look to comment on something else. "Your sister, 'Katrina' by name, yes? With her, I have yet to meet. Nor did I chance to meet with many in Arx Zenith. Of course, that was a short tour, as busy as you and your classmates had been." More questions left unsaid. As vibrant as the place is, as invigorating the thick taste of magic, Tamamo's demeanor is relaxed. Lazy, almost. Topics concerning other people might be pursued, or else, they might be left alone. They're certainly not subjects quite as important as those presently conversing. She returns to that previous point. "A 'hidden' continent, is it? A place safe from those outside depredations. Ah, to build a place just so--but such is the nature of a home, is it not? To be built to those exacting orders of one with the means to establish the home life they so desire, and for those without such means to aspire to pursue the same." Tamamo looks across the flowers, and takes another, deep breath. "But please, tell me more of this, as my vision of the largest picture has yet been clouded." She ticks off on her fingers. "Those without speak much of reclaiming lost land. Those within hold the doorways to hidden lands. The air of the hidden lands poisons the common man." She looks down at her hand. "Is that the reason, then, that it cannot be used as a safe retreat, or was there another? It is a 'continent,' or is it not?" She looks up. "Are there /dangers/ here?" There's not a trace of 'fear' in the question, but a definite trace of 'listening for scandal.' "Would you find enough space here for your own efforts, or need build yet another, claimed and sowing your own plot?" Practically purring, "I will, of course, support however far you wish to tread, in as grand, or humble, a fashion as required."
Lilian Rook	Lilian doesn't comment on the whole thing about visiting Onyx Witch. It'd been her spur of the moment decision and the strings being pulled were hers. There's nothing to talk about. She does at least have a comment for the other person though. "Yes. She's my older sister. She's . . . in and out at best. Her current passion is a sort of 'doctors without borders' thing, in that she got into Enlightened medicine to start with, but then started learning more about world policy and civil structure and relief." "She decided her particular calling felt like trotting the globe to places and people in need, providing assistance, dealing with Antegent-related afflictions, occasionally taking on private medical work for other Enlightened with difficult issues, but mostly eschewing 'the sector' for feet on the ground. I think she's really into wanting to support satellite colonies, and encourage more of them, now. I don't have much to say about it. I don't really get it, but it's not something shady or disrespectful. I only see her a few days a month anyways." She brightens up a little bit after though. Before she even starts, she apparently feels the need to say "You know, you're a really good listener. I can talk and talk and you never get fed up of it. Is it just curiosity? A sort of hear much speak little thing? Do you just like the sound of my voice~? It's kind of nice. I mean, people obviously sit there and listen to me plenty, but just sort of 'comprehending' it, you know?" "As far as the Hidden Continent goes though, yes, you could call it a continent. By the strict definition, of course, though it's probably big enough to go by the colloquial idea too. I've heard it compared to being somewhat smaller than Australia. It's the collective work of, well, practically the entire Enlightened community. Something that was in a formative stage when it became apparent that the Onslaught was getting worse, not better, and came into being midway through." "More than just being a sort of ark if things went as badly as possible, it's a device by which all of these traditions, previously scattered across the globe and individually secret, can cooperate in something approaching a unified fashion. It'd be next to impossible to get much done when your closest neighbours are all bunkered down in secret sanctums or atop remote mountains, thousands of kilometers from each other. Worse, all of their assets are in places that are plausible, albeit difficult, to be hit by Antegent in the worst case. Having a private space where major assets could be consolidated, people could be quickly contacted, personnel could physically cooperate on major projects, and magical and military might could be raised and held in reserve, was deemed critical. There is, of course, no reason to suddenly be rid of it. Even in lieu of anything else, it's a fully realized global feature now. An important symbol and practical application of all our shared knowledge and work." "Equally as important, since it's all technically a giant Local Field --this type of thing--, you don't have to travel to it directly. You can build transport routes in and out of it with suitably resonant locations. It's much easier than flying halfway around the world, for certain. Most people of any importance have a secondary, or even primary, residence there." "Likewise, obviously if it's going to be a practical hub for people, the most basic thing you'd want from it is as much ambient magical potential as possible, especially at a time where leylines were being eroded or destroyed left and right. The whole place is engineered to possess levels of magic not seen since old antiquity. It makes difficult and large scale magical projects doable, and accelerates otherwise long and tedious efforts; critical back in the day, extremely convenient now."
Lilian Rook	She glances to the gardeners. "You surmise correctly though. That is, unfortunately, bad for the unpurified human body. For those who haven't at least attained the station of the Jewel, it's more or less poison, like breathing pure oxygen. Even then, it's fairly uncomfortable, and can cause health complications, to be there for a long time for those who haven't attained the station of the Mirror. Either way though, I doubt it was ever intended to be a refuge for the ordinary masses. In that kind of critical disaster scenario, I'd imagine that they were thinking there'd either be no use in it, or next to none of them left" She points upwards at the dome. "Since this plot of land doesn't need that much to thrive, the atrium had some renovations to limit the amount inside to what is comfortable to the most magic-hungry specimens here." and then she points in the direction of a specific gardener, chosen at random. "But they do still need the masks, and four hour shifts. Extra pay doesn't hurt either. It's mostly the same family that's been doing the groundskeeping for the last several generations, but any of the staff who read up enough and show enough aptitude can move to working here if they like." It takes her a minute to ponder that last question though, finger dimpling her cheek at a lean. "A little bit of extra space wouldn't be too hard. It's more of a construction and zoning and tax obstacle to expand our land ownership now, than the sheer practicality of it. But . . . well, something of my own someday might be nice. Sooner or later I'll probably need a secondary residence. I'll always appreciate this house more than any like it, but you have to do a little growing up eventually, right?" She doesn't sound too sure on that last part.
Tamamo	"I will admit to curiosity in many matters," Tamamo says, "but it is not so difficult to listen and understand, is it? There is, too, something that pleases me in hearing you speak of your passions." There were also, by contrast, matters of a markedly less passionate response, but Tamamo doesn't focus on those just now. "If I wished to close your lips, I have pleasant means to do so, and so, you need not worry on my account." Resting her chin on her laced fingers, leaning onto the table, that bright smile could be seen as dangerous, but only in the way that approaching close to bright, hot celestial bodies is known to be. It's a danger of gravity, and a risk of falling hard and fast. Nothing Lilian can't handle, surely. Having said that much, she listens. Attentively, the gold of her eyes is still easily noticed beneath the wide-brimmed hat, tracking. Her expression is not unchanging. Rather, it shifts minutely, but noticeably. Pleased to hear of 'old antiquity.' Interested in 'major projects.' Displeased, or maybe disappointed, at the thought of there being 'no use in it.' Additionally interested in the specific mention of the masks. "How strange the world must look, for one who serves masters who prefer to spend their days breathing poisonous mists. But then, a medicine in surplus was ever a toxin to the body fallible." That aside is of little important next to the last response. "One must have space in which to grow. This is true of all that lives, no? Oh, you do have much, as it is. A place of much history, of old family, of comfort, a more beautiful nest than wished by any songbird. Whether this is 'enough' is a question I cannot answer. I would rather /see/ you follow your own threads of fate than read so far head." After a thoughtful pause, "As to myself, I wonder as to how I might still 'grow.' To leave a mark upon the world, as the great multitude of ambitions seek, seems yet an easier feat, in some respects, than to change oneself, especially for one such as I." Another pause. "Ah, but to seek to aid and find refuge for many does seem an admirable goal. I would sooner name such hobbies noble than 'shady,' worry not. If I could do such without departing from my most important question, that far more /personal/ matter," in at least two senses of the word, "then it would attract my attention, likewise. Perhaps I shall need give such some thought."
Lilian Rook	Lilian draws in a deep breath just when it comes to 'need not worry', then barely smothers a sudden cough, and terminates the rest of what'd be a lot of 'inhaled something you shouldn't' noises. "That's, I suppose, very true." she says, trying to, and not really succeeding in, sounding pleasantly neutral. Instead, she leans her arm over the back of her chair to watch the nearest gardener leave. "Everything about it all should be strange to them." she says. "The people in the Urban Centers, I mean. All of this was fake to them. The whole cultural concept of it engineered to be as ridiculous as possible; a source of escapist or fantastical fiction. There's no version of events where they don't think it's strange. If anything, it's more normal now than it ever was. Especially for people like me; that is, born after. In the end, I think it's proper that they be separate. It's the closest there is to the way people are used to. That all of this be out of sight and, generally, out of mind." After that, she turns back around, and puts a fuchsia-white peach, a red-gold apple, a vividly iridescent fig, and an assortment of berry-sized fruits down in a glass bowl at the center of the tray. There's an abrupt sloshing sound, owed to both glasses are promptly full of what has to be fresh juice, or some combination of a couple, settling as if dropped in all at once, without splashing a drop. The fruit at the center quietly falls apart into a dozen neat slices each at about the same time. "That medicine comparison . . ." Lilian starts off biting on a dainty slice of apple with an inside colour like gold leaf. "I said something like that to someone important not long ago. He compared the process of attaining the stations to exercise, or supplements, but the way I thought of it; it's more like a medicine. Healing the rather sad and deformed condition human beings are born in. I'd like to think of it as a disability, if anything." she says. "At least that way it's easier to think that it isn't their fault." She takes her time to drink. "Admirable, I suppose sure. Almost anyone would agree. I'm not sure how I'd put it. But I'm glad that this still seems important to you. After all of the other things you've seen so far. There's no end to the incredible things out there. There's so many of them here at home, too. All the incredible people that came before me. It makes me happy to know that you'd still care about that ridiculous wish, over those 'admirable' things."
Tamamo	If Tamamo finds some sense of success in momentarily disrupting Lilian's composure, she doesn't show it. The aura of satisfaction about the fox-woman in the radiant sundress was there from the moment the two sat down. It would still be a fair guess. "To not look... might be easier for many, but more than that, I could not say." That's as much comment as she gives on the notion of the 'ought' of fantastical divides. "The reactions of some to the unexpected aspects of reality... ah, you recall that prioress, of course." That single memory obviates the need for long and detailed examples. It could hardly be a pleasant memory, but it hardly seems to have soured Tamamo's mood. Her dress lacking long sleeves, her chopsticks are retrieved from the next most obvious location for a secret compartment, black lacquer with flower motifs. The flowers are not as important, this time, as the food. Though she reaches first for the berries, her target changes to the peach at the last moment, carried to her mouth with the opposite hand cupped underneath, as if it catch any drops of its juice, though none materialize. She eats quietly, the fruit's skin included, and has taken a bite of a second piece before she says, "Ah, but it is quite more rich than expected, or should I say, exactly as should be expected? Here, if it please you, see that richness for yourself." And the same chopsticks offer the bitten peach-slice toward Lilian, again with one hand protecting the table. Continuing to speak, "And what wish would that be, that you might see ridiculed? Surely not my own question?"
Lilian Rook	"It's hard to have an educated opinion of it from both sides." Lilian very, very vaguely agrees on Tamamo declining to say much more about 'oughts' and 'shoulds'. "Very few people ever experience both, and those that do are attached to the circumstances of their birth; almost always they come up from the bottom, desiring to see the top, so their motivations are obvious in the way they colour their viewpoint. Anyone who descends to the level below is someone who doesn't want to be found." In the privacy of the atrium, seated at a table for two, Lilian allows herself a scowl at the mention of the prioress. "Yes. I have something in mind for her." She doesn't elaborate. Her expression then evens out into a faintly suspicious sort of half-assed poker face at the chopsticks, clearly balancing on an edge of how much she dares ask. Apparently, enough to say "Okay, I had thought you were just stashing things up those sleeves. Is there something I should know?" It dissipates into a vicarious pleasure in Tamamo being happy with something that Lilian has no right to claim doing, but still feels proud of being associated with and able to show her. "Right? There aren't nearly enough to eat all the time, or even as a luxury food, and it'd be fairly wasteful to do it anyways, considering what other uses they could be put towards, but if they're just sitting there between tasks, well, there's no sense in letting them fall off the tree and decay, is there?" It shows how much that Lilian has started to get used to these quiet moments and private experiences, that she leans partway over the table to take a bite being fed to her, audibly suppressing the urge to laugh for the effort. After finishing, she says "It sort of tastes sweeter than I remember." When Tamamo presses the last point though, she blows out a big, slow sigh, in that 'overly' expressive way she gets around the fox woman, paired with 'no one else'. "No no, of course not yours. That's a very serious wish. I mean what I blurted out when I accidentally called you back then." Leaning in again, supporting her head with one hand while her other traces little circles on the tabletop with a fingertip, she continues. "It was a little impulsive. And silly. Though not dishonest." "My family has a very long legacy of 'proper magic' since the middle of the last millennium. When the leylines weakened and the supernatural went into remission, the map started filling in, trade was all over the world, the sciences advanced, all that. The sophisticated mage, of course, pursues their craft in private then, advancing it as worldly knowledge does, sourcing their needs from other continents, amassing wealth and political power as they become more crucial in the globalization of nations. A lot of very refined, very complicated things. Things my primary school has catered for over 200 years, in getting students ready for it." "Even though, well, the obvious, changed absolutely everything, even if it's a brand new era and the old ways changed or disintegrated, it still feels . . . I don't know. It hasn't stopped feeling a little odd to me that I grew up all this time assuming that I'd end up in some fancy atelier of my own performing some sort of high brow research and adding to the tradition, working up into parliament, reaching out contacts, being a well and proper magus, even if I didn't know what, but then suddenly swerved into something totally opposite. Even if it was about finding purpose. Even if it's a sacred tradition much older to the family than the modern conception of mage families. Even if it's special. Even if I'm the only one who can do it. Even though I'm good at it. Even though it makes perfect sense now and people support it . . ."
Lilian Rook	"It still feels a little silly and confusing to say that, rather be the next Merlin or bigger than the Pope or something, the person I want to beat is Aodhan himself. That the, I don't know, tangibility of the idea, how the path is so defined and objective, rather than tied up in the intangibilities of influence and magical value, secretly appeals to me most of all. The correct answer would be what any mage wishes for, but instead I basically blurted out that I want to conquer the world. Not unraveling mysteries or attaining the unknown, but being, tangibly, physically, historically, materially, the biggest and best. And not even in the way those martial arts nuts do either; they're not all that different than mages, refining their craft for the sake of it, just eschewing the rest of the benefits. I still want it all. The biggest and best and strongest there ever was, but also the most famous, popular, rich, influential --just someone a history book couldn't find a single fault with." "All I can really say is that I've made myself the time to do it all. That I'm sure I can. And I want to. I doubt I'd have pushed it nearly this far if I was going to 'do my grandparents proud' in doing the proper thing. I'm just . . . well, I'm still in shock you stuck around after hearing it. And seeing . . . everything."
Tamamo	Tamamo looks inordinately satisfied when the offered food is taken. "Oh, what was it... 'King Arthur is going to take second place' ...?" Her smile is that of one about to laugh, though she doesn't. "I shall not fault an aspirant for the height of her aim." But Lilian has quite a lot more to say about it, so Tamamo finally acquires some berries, to which she purses her lips and pops in one at a time, chewing slowly. Listening, as she said, is easy. The tale crosses back and forth, but she follows it soon enough. Only afterward does she backtrack just far enough to say, "Oh, you will find fault enough in any man or woman of legend, even should the historian avoid its mention." But that's not really the point, is it? The conclusion is where it was headed. There are so many things that could be said, but, "It matters. There is import in how you should choose to live, and in what your time, no matter how great an amount you expect to hold, is spent upon. You know this, of course. It is the way in which they matter /to me/ of which you were not told." Another berry raised, Tamamo pauses before bringing it to her lips. Her gaze unfocuses, remembering. "A girl. A blade. A wish. An enemy. Winter. Survival. Triumph. The desire for 'more.' To grow. To spread wings. To take flight. Ah, but not quite yet." Her focus snaps back into place, back onto Lilian. "An observer can give no advice, no 'oughts,' and nothing of 'should.' An 'observer' though I have claimed to be, I cannot be so impartial, for my question could never then be answered. It is that to which I am partial of which you wish to know, yes? Perhaps you thought 'what of this so pleases you?' And yet, would the answer be greater than the mystery? Would the spell unravel?" No, she's not using a spell right now, though she is glowing a bit. Having this much sun on her might make that impossible to avoid. And with all that said, she still gives an answer, to that hypothetical question, as incomplete as it likely is. "I judged you in our first meeting. I saw your intent laid bare. I saw your potential, not for the long plans of your bloodline, but as one who could fulfill my most driving desire. I judged that you were the one for whom I wished. And you, my Lilian, have put forth such admirable effort to ensure I never need feel I chose wrongly." That last berry meets its end, and with it, Tamamo fully relaxes, in some noticeable but hard to describe why, as if her demeanor were directly affecting the literal, rather than figurative, atmosphere. "Though they are not considered 'the classics' within this hemisphere, you may find some small interest in the story of Mizi Xia, as told by Han Fei, in the time of Zhou." That doesn't particularly sound like it's related to anything.
Lilian Rook	Lilian doesn't really blush out of genuine retrospective embarrassment, but she does make a strained sort of unintelligible sound at Tamamo reminding her of that particular line. "I'd hoped you'd forgotten more of that." She concludes. "I'm aware historians like to project their own problems, erase inconvenient facts, and regurgitate propaganda of the times. Napoleon being an angry little short man, Marie Antoinette uttering 'Let them eat cake', even more recent things like Martin Luther King Junior being a pacifist, and all that. That's only avoidable if you live long enough as a public figure that your first acts are history before you're done. But sometimes they do smooth out some of the 'inconvenient' details of what you were like. Ghandi, for instance. Or Winston Churchill. More than that, though, I want it to be about how nobody could have possibly done any better. Not even come close." She comes an inch away from looking pouty though. "'Observer' does sound kind of impersonal, you know? You're going to give a girl performance anxiety with that." she says. "Well, not that I get that, but then I'm not usually performing in private." The corner of her lips twitches with the shadow of a wince that almost was, when she hears 'would the spell unravel?', for her own reasons. But that answer seems to please her. A great deal actually. All the gossipy cheer returns at once, causing her to lean even further over the table with her elbows so rudely on it. "'Potential'? Ah, is that like the eastern way of saying 'love at first sight'~?" What layer of cheek she is operating on is utterly inscrutable. Tamamo can be nearly impossible to read whenever she wants, but in this specific arena of prodding people for responses while plausibly denying meaning it at all, Lilian is probably just as good. It's an impenetrable maze of feints upon feints of sarcasm and facetiousness to the point that the thrust might just be completely genuine or entirely ironic. "Even saying all that silly stuff, I was just too irresistible, huh? Don't worry, I get that a lot~" A book recommendation is a little unexpected though. Lilian slides back and straightens up a bit, making a contemplative noise. "Hmmm? You think so? I've never really been into Chinese literature. I can look it up right now if you want."
Tamamo	"Oh, I do try to remember important occasions," Tamamo says, together answering the last question first, "and I seem to recall you looking me up, at that time. By all means, have a look, while the memory is fresh." She tries a slice of the apple before adding, "Though of these other names, the 'recent history,' I have less familiarity." Lilian's almost-pout just gets another, knowing little smile. She doesn't even mind the subsequent sitting posture. Leaning in with gossipy cheer is a good way to get the same from Tamamo, even if hers keeps a certain calm to it, that courtly elegance that in no way diminishes the apparent love for scandalous topic. "Oh, I took a few looks, to be sure, but if you would call me hasty, I could not deny it. I may even be reckless in pursuing my desires, but please have no worry on this point; I shall take utmost care in my care for you." That could mean any of a whole host of things, references, and intents.
Lilian Rook	"Oh come now. There was nothing wrong with trying to be informed about my guest." Lilian replies, waving her hand just a little. She brings up the little holographic window set floating a foot and a half in front of her face, from the tiny device mounted to her choker, dictating it aloud instead of doing any kind of motion typing so she can retrieve her own excessively luxurious snack and then munch through it while she reads the results windows. She raises her glass to her lips, and makes a terrible mistake. Her eyes scan down to midway through, and her throat catches with something that instantly becomes a cough, her hand pressed to her collarbone as she heroically resists the ensuing fit, and then swallows properly. There is the intensely present sense that Lilian is spending a full ten seconds, at least, furiously paging through hundreds of possible responses, trying to figure out where it is that she comes out on top from that one, and only growing silently frustrated and embarrassed. Finally, she gives it up with a defeated sigh, less emphatic than could be expected, settling on "You certainly take the utmost care in planning and arranging your conversational topics." It's polite and calm but also kind of huffy. "It didn't take you long to become an expert at socializing again, given about nine hundred years of drift. I doubt I could call someone like that 'reckless', per se." With immense difficulty, Lilian suppresses the kneejerk urge of her pride, instead finally struggling out a red-faced "So I'd better see that care elsewhere. I'd be very upset otherwise."