Scene #8499: Cookie Gift Basket

Owner	Pose
Tamamo	The address Tamamo sends takes one to a little seaside town of terracotta roofs, somewhere in the Quilt. Parts of the town look carved into the cliff faces, where walking is the only reasonable way to navigate the steps moving from one level to another, though a particularly brave cyclist could at least go down, before trudging up. It might be a nice vacation spot, if you stayed at a hotel down next to where the roads reach, rather than up here with the narrower streets. On the other hand, the view is excellent, and a mildly salt breeze takes off the Summer heat. It might even get a little chilly, later on. The outdoor seating of the cafe is placed onto the flat roof of a building one level down, with servers coming out just occasionally to check. Adjusting one's eyes between the brightness outside and the shade inside must be rough, with about an hour to go before everything is dyed red in sunset. Tamamo sits under a parasol, wearing a long, white sundress rather than her usual miko robes. She's placed a wicker basket on the table, gauzy paper wrapped around several smaller items inside. There's both a pitcher of ice water and a pot of tea, nearby.
Hibiki Tachibana	Let no one say that excellent views of the seaside aren't something that Hibiki appreciates - although given her hometown, maybe it's not that surprising at all. The tighter navigation needed in the higher portions of the town don't bother her that much, honestly. Any other time, and she might just have seated herself on one of these steps and waited to watch the sky slowly shift colors. Not today, though. Apparently considering a meeting with Tamamo demands something other than just coming in her usual casual, she's changed it up a little; a simple violet tee with a black hoodie thrown over top of it, along with a pair of jeans. Not thick enough to make the summer heat worse, but still plenty enough to take the edge of colder hours off if it gets to that point. She did think about 'dressing up' more. But she kind of doesn't have a mind for that stuff at all, and she didn't have it in her to ask Miku for fashion help today. It's just a cafe visit, it'll be fine. 5tShe might be a little self-conscious over how Tamamo can still give off the same impression in a sundress as her own usual wear, though. But nevertheless, she comes into view with a small wave as she sets herself down on the opposite seat at the table from the bunrei, a bit of the fatigue from events yesterday still on her face. "Ah...hey, Tamamo." She has to remind herself she doesn't have to be formal either (not that she's good at that, either). "...I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long."
Tamamo	"Oh, not at all," Tamamo says. The way the bunrei calls the younger(?) girl 'Tachibana-san' may be overly formal -- in fact, it is -- but she's almost always speaking in that archaic dialect that makes most everything sound that way. It isn't just Hibiki to receive that sort of treatment. "This is rather small to be considered a belated token of gratitude for what you have done, before, but I wish for you to accept it, still." It does make it more noticeable when she refers to someone without any of that distance. "Lilian was aided, that time, by the aid that was given to me, during the preparations I made for her sake, and during the ritual and battle that followed. This is something not to be forgotten, I think." The tea, as it will turn out, is green, which is simply Tamamo's preference. The quality is very ordinary for a cafe. The water was given a few slices of lemon, as is usual. The basket's contents are the more interesting, for each of the individually wrapped portions being something different. Soft-baked chocolate chip cookies, oatmeal cookies with and without raisins, nuts, cinnamon, butter -- it's entirely possible that she simply tried everything in some homemaker's guide. They're not terribly even, showing that telltale lumpiness of having been dropped onto an oven pan by hand. Whether or not they're enough of a temptation to deal with topics sure to follow is another matter, but Hibiki's already shown up. There are many ways to make escaping difficult, of which Tamamo has chosen: a gently, warmly friendly demeanor.
Hibiki Tachibana	"...I don't know if I'd deserve anything bigger than this anyway," Hibiki manages a small smile back towards Tamamo, with a tone that could be anywhere from just trying to be polite to self-depreciation, but she nevertheless takes the invitation to slowly take a few of the wrapped treats and set them down in front of herself. "But I'll be happy to accept it." The difference between the way she's regarded and the way Lilian is said doesn't escape her, of course. It doesn't surprise her all that much, either. If she thinks about it, there's not really that many times where Lilian wasn't either directly there alongside Tamamo, or was at least part of the reason the bunrei was present at all. Come to think of it, she thinks this is the first time they've spoken one on one at all. "...Right. The ink, and the ritual you needed it for. All that stuff feels like it was...forever ago now." A little bit of a slump comes to her shoulders as she unwraps a few of the cookies she's taken - just for her to look almost a bit surprised at the uneven, handmade texture of them all. Because she wasn't expecting them to be personally baked? Maybe because the Tamamo in her head is someone who'd be able to make them 'perfectly'? Or maybe it's just--the fact she went out of her way, even if it were a small way, for something she did for Lilian, put up against the way things are now. Warmly and gently is awfully effective when it comes to her, it seems. An oatmeal cookie is slowly raised up, and a bite takes a third out of it before she chews, closes her eyes, and swallows before continuing quietly. "It's really good." After another moment, "...I'm sorry, Tamamo."
Tamamo	They are definitely homemade. They could have been baked less than an hour ago, by the texture. Not 'perfectly,' by any means. There was no magic involved in their creation, and Tamamo must not be a goddess of baking -- though she has had some experience. Practice and determination doesn't always make perfect, but it can make for good cookies. Maybe a little light on the sugar, but that's a matter of taste. "The ink, the Wheel of Lugh, the Land of Shadows, and the... retrieval, of Exigent Serenity. It could all have gone much worse. In the end, nothing needed to be lost but the nightmare. The rest was all gain." Tamamo keeps to her tea, for the moment, letting her gaze slide across Hibiki and out to sea, though it's returned by the time Hibiki opens her eyes, after the bite. It could be confused for a trick of the light, the way her eyes catch and reflect back gold. "For what do you apologize?" Like she's coaxing out the truth. "Is it for something you have done, or for something you failed to do?"
Hibiki Tachibana	Without a doubt, Hibiki is the sort of person who would prefer too much sugar instead of too little, given the choice. But she'd never complain about a gift, much less when they're cookies that are this good, and in such a wide spread. Even if she's not exactly sampling the whole lot of them right now. "...Both, I guess," she replies, meeting Tamamo's eyes for a moment before that radiance is just too much to stay staring at while they're on this subject, and she glances down to the table surface. "For the way...everything has been, for a while now. With Lilian. I didn't...I..." Her face scrunches up, slightly, trying to find the right words for the feelings in her chest. "I was never...any kind of real friend to her. I wanted to be. I pretended I was. I thought I was. Ever since all that mess with Muramasa, where we went to her home, where we got to see inside her head..." Her eyes go from being focused on a half-unwrapped confection to shifting off to the side, towards the sea. "...who was I kidding? I was never anyone she could rely on. Just being another face out of a dozen showing up to help with all that stuff didn't change that. It only seemed like things were fine and peaceful and okay." "...Then they stopped being that. More, and more, and more. And now the only thing I can do is just--" Her free hand, on the table, tightens up in frustration more than anything else. The look on her face follows, still looking off and away. "...I don't even know. I spent so long not doing enough for her, and now it feels like anything I do wouldn't matter at all. I hate it. I hate it so much that I don't know what to do except yell about all the things about it I don't like." Her voice lowers. "Everyone says I should be the one to change, that I should get rid of the part of myself that I hate if I want it to get any better. That's easy to just say..."
Tamamo	Tamamo listens, and continues to listen, an aura of expectation -- of what, it isn't clear -- making it easier to continue speaking than not. Finally, she says, "Try these. A little chocolate may help your heart, even if it cannot be relied upon, past that point." The chocolate chips are practically still gooey. She had mentioned some sort of trick to keep baked goods fresh. "You helped her, time and again, and yet, you were not 'her friend.' This is as it seems to you, yes? Ah, she did resist, but perhaps you could have become more... if that had not occurred, or if you had been more... attentive. It is easy to think, is it not, that one only requires help when it is requested? The multiverse is vast, and every day, there come calls for aid. One may listen to these without ceasing, if one forgoes the need for a self. One may help many, and yet, be kin to none." Tamamo takes one of the cookies for herself, cupping her other hand to cover when she takes a bite. It's a moment's pause, but she she continues, when her lips are clean. "And yet, if you were not a friend, one could not blame you for your lack of attentiveness. Would you say that you were a false friend, who promised hope, yet could not deliver it? Have you found the part of yourself that another has asked you be excised? Have you the determination to do all that is possible to you to make amends, no matter how unpleasant it may become? You should consider that carefully. To agree without conviction may bring ache to more hearts than your own." The sun sinks but slowly, first told in the lengthening of shadows, though the light is still bright. "She was hurt, you know." Of course she knows, but Tamamo's voice is low, as if imparting a secret. "She was hurt by the lack of care of others, the misplaced faith that nothing would overcome her, the expectations of perfection that she, too, placed upon herself. Before that, she was hurt on purpose, by those who sought to do so, by those like that man, and that girl."
Hibiki Tachibana	It is easy to think, is it not, that one only requires help when it is requested? "Too easy," Hibiki murmurs, in the moment where her host for today is pausing to partake in the confections. "...Out of everyone, I should know better than that. Even a little bit would have gone a long way. Now we're way past the point where any of that would change anything." The steady stream of questions that comes afterwards forces her silent, though. She doesn't have answers to any of them to give out loud. Not on if she were delivering false promises. Not if she had found the nebulous part of her that, if removed, would begin fixing everything for the better. And certainly not if she has the determination to do that, although it should be the simplest for someone like her to answer. It should, but she has a small wince at what haphazard agreement brings. The oatmeal cookie is sat down, and she fills in her own silence by taking one of the recommended chocolate chip cookies. The bite isn't as large as the previous one, and the following one even less so at that man and that girl. "...I know," she doesn't need to say it, but she does anyway. "...I totally messed up there, too. I..." There's another few seconds of the only sounds coming from her being the strained effort of getting words out. "...Petra," she finally gets out, both as confirmation she begrudgingly knows one of the two Tamamo is referring to, and as the start of a sentence. "I was so, so...I wanted, more than anything, to help her. I thought--I'd be able to do that. I thought I could 'get' her. I saw someone who...who I didn't want to see having a repeat with Lilian, of everything from back then." Her voice drops to more than just 'low'. It's kind of miserable-sounding, slumping back against her seat. "...I was just being stupid. Like always. It was worse than just not doing any good. The Watch turned into a mess. I let Lilian keep getting hurt, because I'm an idiot and thought she'd be able to handle it. Like I didn't learn anything. And Ishirou...died," she practically croaks out. "...because I wanted to believe in her when I could have stopped it. I should have stopped it..." The hand holding the partially-eaten cookie is limp in her lap, and doesn't look like it has the energy to pull itself back up. "...and because I didn't, because of everything else, this is how it all ended up. Barely any time after that, and Lilian goes from being the most vulnerable I've ever seen her, at the meeting on Rita's world...to being stuck at the hip with someone I thought she hated. Who I thought hated her back. The first time I saw Petra after she got back, she socked me in the face for not caring about Lilian enough."
Tamamo	"You found a little understanding, when you intruded into our home." There's at least a little bit of a sense of danger, when Tamamo says something like that. "And yet, it was not enough. It does little good, now, to say that your assumptions as to the level of wisdom you had gained were arrogant, in mistaking a step for a mile." 'I should have stopped it...' "I, too, regret that I had not taken more... drastic action. The opportunities were lost, all the same." Tamamo's warmth is gone, when she says that. The breeze is a little chillier. She sips her tea, still hot. "If you had that determination to do whatever was necessary, to do every thing that could be done, I would tell you what you need do. You should ask Mr. Candelario, perhaps. He has a colorful description for such work." But Hibiki doesn't promise, and Tamamo doesn't press her to. 'Who I thought hated her back.' "There is an emptiness in those who find themselves connected to nothing, their threads wound around and around until they tangle. They seek to find the place within the tapestry that they might fit, to seek the stories that justify their lives, for that justice is more precious than gold. Petra Soroka... sought to hurt Lilian however she might. She did everything that could be done, without shame to stay her, to bring ruin and suffering to the one I love, both overtly and in secret. Her sins are numerous and unlike to be forgiven within a mortal lifetime." It's not warmth, but heat, crackling. "And then, when the two spoke, she realized a single error, and the foolish, futile nature of her plans. She resolved to define her justice, the source of her meaning, as that for which the very same object of her obsession wished. On this, please do not misunderstand. She has learned nothing but that she had sought an undeserving target. She has not gained an ounce of wisdom that would stay her from repeating the same mistakes with another, but that Lilian might tell her to heel. It is most unfortunate, then, that Lilian remains unwell." Tamamo doesn't make it easy to tell just how upset she is, but that it's enough that a chocolate cookie wouldn't cover it. "I shall hope you have gained a little more understanding in this, as well. There are things you should do, and there are things you should admit. There is strength that you should seek, and meaning and justice to confirm. You might seek to prove yourself a worthy friend, though that road is long and offers little reward. You might seek to help one overcome their difficulties, though those who wish not to change will spurn your efforts. You might seek to change yourself, if only you can find that within yourself that failed you, should such a thing exist. I can only wonder, though I should give you this advice, that you trust nothing said of you by one who sees no worth in you."
Hibiki Tachibana	With the few times they've spoken at length, spoken personally in any capacity, Hibiki is very unused to any Tamamo that is not the warm and gentle, kind sun radiating intently at Lilian's side. That sense of danger, that chill in her tone, and the following heat - they're all new to her, at least in the context of it being within a conversation only between the two of them, directed solely at her. It does little good, now, to say that your assumptions as to the level of wisdom you had gained were arrogant, in mistaking a step for a mile. "Excuses won't fix anything," Hibiki agrees, quietly. He has a colorful description for such work. She thinks she knows what that is. Tamamo goes on, about Petra. Some of it, Hibiki knows. She knows--can't even lie to herself anymore--that all Petra wanted back then was to hurt Lilian. To throw herself at her, over and over, in any way she could. She knows she did all sorts of awful things, both that she knows of and glossed over back then, and probably plenty she's still unaware of. Some of it, she didn't - like the small but important insight into what she missed during those two months, at how that girl's way of thinking changed so very much, at least from her own point of view. How that effort to justify her life has become...this. She's going from centering it wholly around Lilian in one way to another. She's not sure if she wants to laugh or cry about it. And some of it, she didn't want to admit. Knew, but hated to think about, because she remained unsure of what to do about it. Lilian remains unwell. Not a single word escapes Hibiki, as the bunrei continues on. Past small twitches and trembles in her expression, she can't seem to force anything out. Not until the very last thing Tamamo says, and the hand in her lap tenses up and sends small crumbles of cookie falling loose. "She's said...so many right things about me. So many that I could never argue with them all, no matter how much I want to. No matter how wrong she is about all sorts of other things..." A moment passes. And then another. Tamamo has elaborated on the things she should do, as difficult as they might be. And she asked her one very important question that she still hasn't been able to make herself answer. If she walks away now, still without being able to do that... "...Please tell me what I should do, Tamamo!" All at once, her head angles back up, to stare the bunrei in the eyes for the first time since they started getting into their talk. It's three parts resolve doing its best to surface, one part desperation. "I'm so sick--I'm so sick of letting everything keep going on the way it has been! I'm sick of not doing anything, and not knowing what to do! And I'm tired of not being able to help people I care about!" Both hands come down flat on the table in front of her, and her eyes scrunch tight. "I don't care what I have to do! I already promised...I'd keep going forward, even if I ended up being hated for it! Even if I mess up! As long as it really gets better! I want to be able--to believe in my own justice, without losing hold of it! ...Please."
Tamamo	'So many that I could never argue with them all, no matter how much I want to. No matter how wrong she is about all sorts of other things...' "Some wield what they discover as a weapon, speaking truthfully, but only for their own ends. Though you cannot help but listen, you cannot know that which is left unsaid." It's different, of course. 'Tamamo without Lilian' is different, just as 'Lilian without Tamamo' often is. There's plenty that could be said about that, but it's not the present topic. Some of her usual warmth does return, by degrees, just as the Sun begins to set, casting the cliffs of the town in its colors. Her eyes remain that shining gold. '...Please.' It's a smile, though more sad than anything. There's still a bit of distance in the sympathy she shows. "If you would prove yourself, you may seek out all that would assist the one whom you have failed, state your intentions, and perform your deeds without expectation of praise or reward. Then, you will find, most likely, that their distrust of you continues. You must then do the same again, and again, and again. Every time, you must seek no recompense, and never wait upon instruction from the one you aid. You must offer of yourself without respect to the suffering you will endure, and never speak of that which is deserved, nor of return, nor fairness." The tea is gone. That's fine. They're just about done. "Do you see, Tachibana-san? It is a nigh-impossible task, for it has no guaranteed end. It is only a long road of self-inflicted trials and suffering. And yet, it is the only way by which one may prove oneself, after having once lost trust. Though I would offer you my blessing, the road will hardly be the shorter. I regret that there is not more wisdom I can offer you."
Hibiki Tachibana	...seek out all that would assist the one whom you have failed... ...deeds without expectation of praise or reward... ...again, and again, and again... ...a nigh-impossible task, for it has no guaranteed end. "...I see." Hibiki's reply comes after a delay, and almost too calmly for her burst of emotion from a moment ago. Her fingers are still pressing down on the table surface a little too hard, and her gaze has fallen down to it once again. When her eyes shut this time, it's not quite the frustrated scrunch from before, and she shakes her head after a moment. "You don't have anything to say sorry about. You told me what I asked you to, after all. Straight on, without holding any of it back. Thanks--...thank you, Tamamo," she corrects herself, letting out a shuddering exhale and looking up at her once again. With another of those small, self-derisive smiles that are barely smiles. "...I'm the furthest thing from a hero, so not worrying about praise is the easy part. Figuring out what people need, what the best way forward is, without being told...that's so much harder." Her eyes shift off to the side briefly, her expression falls into something closer to a frown than neutral, and she meets Tamamo's eyes once more. "I think that helped puts things in perspective for me, at least a little bit. What I should be doing...and who I should be doing it for. What I need to try to do, even if I mess up. ...Being hated, suffering for it, never being treated fairly..." The rest of her body tenses a bit. More than a bit. "...That was probably going to happen anyway, the way things have been going. So I don't have anything to lose." Hibiki had pushed halfway out of her seat at some point, and eases back down into it now. There's an awkward pause. "These...cookies really are good, by the way. Do you mind if I...take some of them...?" The fact that they were baked as a gift for her specifically seems to escape her.
Tamamo	"Of course. You may help yourself to all of them, as you like. Perhaps you shall share some of them with Kohinata-san. Please give her my well-wishes, as well." Tamamo makes no move to take the basket back. "And now... please take care. You may call upon me, should you need to. If it relates to love, I shall use all my power." With the warmth returned, she takes her leave.