Scene #9440: Housekeeping at the Rook Manor (and also Petra is there)

Owner	Pose
Lilian Rook	It's not been a terribly exciting day, which is in of itself somewhat out of the ordinary lately. Lilian's daily grindset has used its usual portion of the dubious number of hours between sunrise and sunset, she's off-call for Paladins field support, the weekly report was yesterday, and check-in and meetings had taken only a couple of hours. Trídéag is largely on standby while they work on where to go with current legal issues caused by W Corp, and she's on relaxed duty with the Immunes, too. The days where that would bother her are long behind, however. There's no short checklist of things to see to on their own time; and though Lilian has come to understand the value of organizing many of them to be doable in-transit, many of them are at home. Late in the afternoon, on one of the last warm days of autumn, Lilian texts for Petra just before the last round of her garden work before sunset. By the uninhabited British coast, just far enough from the seaside for privacy, on land within a short walk of 'the otherside', the weather is mild, few of the leaves have changed colour at all, and the plot of garden near the far edge of the path is halfway filled again after most of its previous inhabitants had cuttings transplanted indoors and were taken to Elibe. Lilian is in unheard-of appearance (anywhere else, that is), crouched down over the dirt with thick gardening gloves and a wide-brimmed white hat. An outdoors table moved to just down the front step has the fittings for drinks outside, currently unfilled.
Petra Soroka	Petra considers, at some point, that she might want to share her course schedule with Lilian. But she thinks, as she abruptly excuses herself from her ethics in reporting class, that it seems sort of presumptuous to expect Lilian to keep her schedule in mind. Especially since it changes four times a year! Like, does she expect that Lilian would reference a fucking PDF or something to make sure that it's convenient to summon Petra? Would Petra want to add an extra barrier to being summoned, even if Lilian did? Of course not. And so she just leaves Meal Plan, her most erudite ratbot, at her desk to record the lecture, picks up Norton-- surprisingly, everyone actually finds it endearing for her to carry a little plant around to class-- and exits campus to make her way towards Lilian's world. Coming right off of school, Petra's dressed casually, teeny little ponytail just long enough to poke through the back of a baseball hat. She's got a hoodie that says I AM FERVENTLY AGAINST SUICIDE on the front, with two identical monocolored prints of galloping horses on the back, and as she finds her way into the gardenm she closes up the various Silver-assisted tasks she was doing in transit, leaving just a few blobules of morphmetal orbiting around her, along with Norton the succulent, bobbing along behind her like a balloon in its antigravity pot. One hand in her hoodie pocket and one finger hooked greasonously through the collar, "Hey, Lilian! I'm-- here I am. Sorry it took a second."
Tamamo	"It does feel as if it is already becoming colder." It hasn't, though. This is premonition, not observation. "The time to take in grains will approach later, though I suppose it is different in a land of more rye than rice, after all." Tamamo's left most of her gold at home, yet still opted for one of the layered robes that gold accessorizes. Again, it's not yet cold. "Having a space that can be made warm all throughout the year may have spoiled me, and my gardening requirements, as well. Even ginger can be grown in any season, as if cheating, rather than planting after the last frost, and harvesting it before the first. Oh, but such is already possible in the southern lands, perhaps. I do often forget this, whether it is the channel or the sea that forms the border. Time on the mainland is such a distant memory, now." She's not working in the garden herself, today. At least, not in this particular garden. The gloves she's brought look a little too delicate for the work, though not so delicate she couldn't carry pots or cuttings with care. Instead, she's sitting near to where Lilian works, lifting up a foot to roll about her ankle in soft reflection to the vibe of kicking one's feet as they wake. "Ms. Soroka." The usual address.
Lilian Rook	'It does feel as if it is already becoming colder.' "It'll be Samhain festival in just a couple of days." Lilian, hands in the dirt, replies as a cheery affirmative. She isn't thinking about it. "I've no idea who still farms outdoors these days. It'll keep warm enough around the house this year too, but I still don't really want to get into the habit of prolonging gardening outdoors with things that aren't suited with magic." Indeed, the only succulents left in the outer arc of the garden; where Lilian had uprooted the roses left behind; are the frost-hardy ones. "There's hardly any point in learning if you're never going to try it 'rough', you know?" Ordinarily, 'cheating' would be her first choice of words too. "It's not as if we're lacking for ginger. Exploring the 'breadth of the craft' is . . ." 'Hey, Lilian! I'm-- here I am. Sorry it took a second.' "Oh there you are!" Even with how things are these days (on a relatively frequent basis, at least), Lilian sounds unusually cheery about seeing Petra when looking up from her plot. Perhaps it's the appearance of Norton in her vicinity; like a familiar equipped in the extra slot which boosts attitude with the Lilian faction. She glances at the shirt, snorts softly, and then focuses on pulling her gloves of; unnecessarily one finger at a time, despite them being thick canvas gardening make. "It's fine. I'm not exactly spoiled on friendly teleporters in the Paladins you know; I finished up a little slower than I expected anyways." Gosh! That was only ten percent leaky about it! "I promised I'd spend today and tomorrow at home." Lilian puffs out a little air, "And HR is shouting at me to use my vacation days anyways." then shakes her head, folding up her gloves. "Not that I wouldn't like to. Well, all that matters is I'll be making use of you for now." Not explaining that in the slightest, Lilian stands up, dusts off her knees, and striking a little pose about it, turns around to wave at Tamamo and ask the non-sequitur, "Hey Tamamo~ Funny question, but when you picture 'an ideal servant', what sort of visual image comes to mind? Outfit, mannerisms; that sort of thing. Obviously, you know mine already, but I want to hear yours!" She already kind of knows.
Tamamo	"Oh, well, you know..." Tamamo begins, needlessly melodic. Tamamo-no-mae, an infamously evil (though she denies this) fox spirit who remembers an era wherein Confucianism was the notably more free and compassionate philosophy, and imperial rule was the height of civilization, considers the question of servants. "This not an answer to the question, but do you know of the kuroko? That is, the..." There's a translation to it, 'black-clad,' but that really doesn't describe the concept. "The purpose of a stagehand is not to act without being seen, but without being noticed. One maybe in plain view, but dressed to be a part of the background. Is it not the ideal role of a servant to do the same, silently serving, without drawing attention?" Tamamo rests one arm on the table, leaning in to prop up her cheek on her palm. "That is a bit boring, of course. There is also the philosophy that a servants should reflect the grandness of their master. If one's furniture is well decorated, intricately carved and adorned, how could one's assisting hands be less so? Between the two of these, I suppose I lean more toward the latter, though there is something to be said of the former. As well, there is a common thought in both, which is that servants should never be noisy. It is the domain of children to only be quiet when asleep, no?"
Petra Soroka	"Ms. Soroka." "Ack--" It's only once Petra's glowing objective marker of being summoned by Lilian is cleared that she recognizes anything else about the environment around her. Tamamo's voice lightly startles her, even though she was here first and by all rights is more expected to be here than Petra is. She slips her hand out of her hoodie collar to give Tamamo a nervous little wave. "Um, hi, ma'am." "I promised I'd spend today and tomorrow at home." "Oh. That's good, actually!" Petra plucks Norton out of the air with both hands, setting the pot down on the table where it rests, gravitationally bound. "I'm surprised they're actually insisting on anything. I sort of thought they'd be happy to sweep vacation days under the rug and forget about them as long as you're willing to keep working." Ten thousand years of Lobotomy Corporation would do that to you! "Well, all that matters is I'll be making use of you for now." "O-oh," Unspoken after that quiet gasp is her vaguely scandalized 'in the garden?!', and a glance all around. Vibrating a little in response to Lilian's cheerfulness, Petra hesitates for a moment, before politely turning Norton's tamagotchi screen around to face away from the trio.
Tamamo	'Um, hi, ma'am.' Tamamo spends the following several seconds considering Norton, with traces of fondness. The pixel rat evokes no fondness, only curiosity. She has seen some of Petra robots, but that doesn't necessarily mean she understands them. She hadn't really gotten along with Eggman and his hostility toward all creatures tailed. 'I sort of thought they'd be happy to sweep vacation days under the rug and forget about them as long as you're willing to keep working.' "Did L-Corp give vacation days?" She's imagining not, since that could have resulted in escape attempts. Unspoken after that quiet gasp is her vaguely scandalized 'in the garden?!', and a glance all around. Turning to Lilian, Tamamo far too casually says, "Do you suppose she would scare off crows, if propped up?"
Petra Soroka	"Did L-Corp give vacation days?" "There was a union thing about it," Petra promptly confirms, fidgeting with the hem of her hoodie. "Eleven and a half months after unification. Before that, agents were on call for Works in ten hour shifts six days a week, though usually they'd end up with specialized assignments for personal schedules. I ended up negotiating with them to let them have vacation days on Hydrochoeria specifically, so that they could have days off but still not be able to escape."
Lilian Rook	'Um, hi, ma'am.' Lilian rolls her eyes at Petra, but doesn't actually say anything. She's always so weird around Tamamo after all. And yet, Lilian would still prefer 'weird' (respectful) to 'weird' (literally anything else), so it slides yet again. One day, she will put two and two together. Probably. 'I'm surprised they're actually insisting on anything. I sort of thought they'd be happy to sweep vacation days under the rug and forget about them as long as you're willing to keep working.' "What sort of organization do you think the Paladins is, exactly?" Lilian says archly, looking over her shoulder. "No, never mind. I don't really want to know. But even if they were considerably more greedy and inattentive, they'd still be idiots to try that with someone who has my legal team and public profile." 'O-oh' "God you're such a freak." Lilian, who says things like 'making use of you' that casually, scoffs. 'Oh, well, you know...' Lilian fills the empty space with such a sunny little verbal intonation that it's like she's trying her best to act lik two people. 'Is it not the ideal role of a servant to do the same, silently serving, without drawing attention?' Despite the ostensibly absurdity of it, Lilian nods along with her active listening "Mhm mhm, go on." turned up to max. 'A bit boring' makes her giggle, ostensibly in agreement, and yet amused by the very simple choice of explanation from Tamamo. 'There is also the philosophy that a servants should reflect the grandness of their master. If one's furniture is well decorated, intricately carved and adorned, how could one's assisting hands be less so?' "Oh I admit I've always been partial to that one myself." Lilian says, as if it were only natura. It is relatively salient that she obviously hasn't dictated a single thing about the dress code for anyone working at her home. The only case in which that philosophy could possibly be reflected is Trídéag; in which case the Fixer uniform is admittedly much more stylish than the usual for at least two thirds of the other Associations, and the vast majority of Offices. They don't get slutty little gloves standard. "It's also just very difficult to have a servant suit the background if they're going to be in more than one place, you know? It's not as if you're guaranteed a black stage background. And once you start investing in different dress for different sets, they've really quite stopped being 'unobtrusive' in a sense, haven't they? If only by virtue of showing too-obviously how much personal effort you've invested in them." All of that to say: "So you're right, of course~" She doubles back to stare at Petra for a few seconds on the subject of noise. Like she's trying to read from Petra's reaction if she's gotten in trouble for being too noisy around Tamamo before, and whether that warrants getting mad about. 'Do you suppose she would scare off crows, if propped up?' Lilian snorts. "No way. She'd attract some sort of time traveling faerie crow if anything." She laughs, but not at her own joke-- because it really isn't a joke at this point. "You two are always like this." she says, in the tone of 'you're so funny~'
Lilian Rook	"Well!" Lilian claps her hands together, in her 'delighted to get started' way. "We have lots of time to workshop! For now, I wanted to show you a little trick I figured out~" she says, somehow more greasonously than Petra. She does gesticulate at her, though. "Watch this." she says, and for no reason but showmanship, snaps her fingers. -Lilian's garden gloves are folded over the back of a patio chair. -Her hat is resting on the corner of the backrest. -The essential items for taking tea, recently washed, portioned out, and boxed up by the staff, are set out by the door. -Tabletop equipment for scented oils is set on top of it. -The disorganized gardening equipment, bagged plant food and all, is half-assedly gathered together on the path. -Petra is wearing what could be construed as an intentionally off-brand set of miko clothes, in the sense of obviously being shinto-related, but intentionally nonspecific. Flowing sleeves and pants, potentially distracting, are tied down with ribbon ties, the front is held down with traditionally decorative rope knots rather than left blank, and the neckline has been trimmed lower to show the collar. -A pair of sandals is on the ground next to her. -Lilian is pulling a stylized white fox mask down over Petra's face, wiggling it into position before yanking a cord and patting her on the head. Turning back to Tamamo, beaming, Lilian says "Just watch!" and begins returning to the table.
Tamamo	'...so that they could have days off but still not be able to escape.' "I see," says Tamamo, in an exhaustion-tinged tone she often takes when thinking about the City. 'If only by virtue of showing too-obviously how much personal effort you've invested in them.' "To be seen, and yet, to fade into any background... it takes a certain skill to do such a thing. Regretfully, I am not talented in such things." She doesn't sound very regretful. 'You two are always like this.' "She wishes to be of use, after all." Tamamo's picked that up clearly. "How unfortunate, that she cannot fulfill that role." The one that exists solely as a form of obvious bullying. 'Watch this.' "Oh?" About to get up at the sudden appearance of tea, Tamamo stops and watches, looking at Petra with an expression that, though the newly miko-clad may have seen it on rare occasion, had surely never been focused directly on her. There are various kinds of 'dangerous interest.'
Petra Soroka	"I see," "Lots of them live there now," Petra adds, trying to scrape back a little bit of reputation for Hydrochoeria moreso than herself. "And they're able to leave, of course. Just, that was sort of the best we could reasonably do at L-Corp. Or the best I could come up with, at least." "What sort of organization do you think the Paladins is, exactly?" Petra opens her mouth to say 'one that's fucked you specifically over multiple times before', but that prompt is cut off before it's vocalized, and she nods instead. It's just hard for her to imagine anyone, individual or organization, insisting on having less of Lilian around! "How unfortunate, that she cannot fulfill that role." Out of turn, but compelled by being so cruelly challenged, Petra blurts out, "I could be a really good scarecrow. If I summon something fucked up by being stuck on a stick then I'd still be able to fend it off better than a normal scarecrow does with birds. I'll fight any bird." Petra absorbs the discussion about 'servants' without interjecting her own opinions at all, naturally. She looks between the two of them as they talk, hyperattentive to the details as they're laid out even if she's not certain what's coming. She's silently building obsessive energy the longer they go on, staring at each of their mouths like they're palming a ball and very slowly winding up to throw it. She shifts her weight between her feet, a tiny bit fidgety with the cuffs of her sleeves.
Petra Soroka	And then-- Petra's used to her location changing in an instant, but it takes her a moment for her brain to catch up to why her arms and legs suddenly feel so breezy, and by then, Lilian's snapped the mask over her face. After a startled "Eh-?" that cuts off, she goes abruptly completely silent, her hands reaching up to feel out the shape of the mask to figure out what it is. Then, incrementally, like sand settling in place, a change in her demeanor ripples down her with each limb that she moves, first flexing and loosening her fingers rather than fidgeting with her sleeves, and then surprisingly delicately lifting her foot back to examine her new outfit, elbows raised up at her sides. Noticing the discrepancy in her outfit on her own, Petra sweeps a finger through her hair to more properly spread it out with the ponytail removed. She slips off one shoe at a time, replacing them with the sandals, and then bends over to pick up the sneakers and put them off to the side hidden under the table. The fox mask angles towards Lilian and Tamamo to gauge their intentions, hands hesitating before ending up folded down in front of her hips. She was already blinded at the same time the tea was set down, but a moment after studying their expressions, she follows them over to where the tea set and diffuser are. There's no second look back at their faces to guess whether that's their intention-- and it does, suddenly, feel like 'their', rather than primarily taking cues from Lilian and just skittishly deferring to Tamamo-- before she makes her way over to them, crouching down and scooping the robes under her knees to gather all the materials up. A drop of Silver falls from the air and flattens into a platter to enable her to bring it over all in one go, setting out the teacups and then the diffuser in the center of the table. The shiny metal tray anchors in the air to allow her to begin heating the water, extruding cords of Silver peeling up from the tray to plug in and wirelessly power the electric kettle, and while that's going, she puts a few drops of scented oil into the diffuser, and then steps back away from the table. The nervous energy she usually has is still there, but it's oddly smothered, leaving her still and uncharacteristically demure, as she folds her hands again to wait for the water to heat or them to say anything else.
Lilian Rook	'How unfortunate, that she cannot fulfill that role.' 'I'll fight any bird.' Lilian groans, exactly like 'come on you're embarrassing meeeeee'. "The thing is, Tamamo," Lilian says, moving on past that. "She's actually proven herself shockingly useful, every now and again. And once I'd been a little bit impressed by it, I got to thinking about how it's not quie fair that you seldom ever get to benefit from it." After calling Petra a freak, Lilian has quickly moved on to discussing her like a really nifty appliance that she's been hoarding, and now wants to teach Tamamo how to use as well. Like a freak. "I mean, we're supposed to be sharing our things, aren't we?" She shoots Petra a look like 'yeah, that's right' when she shuts her mouth again. Smoothing out her skirt, still lightly dusty from the garden, Lilian takes her seat on the other side of the baroque little outdoors table, angling it to be closer to Tamamo and facing outwards over the flowers, on the near side of the rowan tree. Leaning forward to put her elbows on the surface, Lilian gestures towards Petra with her gaze several times, equally fascinated to see this kind of habitual transformation again, and eager to see Tamamo's reaction to the Neat Trick she Discovered as well, grinning more than is strictly polite. And what a payoff! It'd ruin everything if Lilian started getting excited now, but palpable waves of expectant approval wash off of her as soon as Petra sets herself to the first task in front of her of her own accord. She hums pleasantly to herself when the Silver speeds up the multitasking; vindicated, perhaps, that Petra is taking it seriously, instead of just going along with a clumsy roleplay. Closing her eyes, she takes a deep breath as the water boils, and then addresses directly to Tamamo, "Isn't she far more confident when you just dress her for the role?" as if Petra's nerves were always the problem. "Go on! Try something!"
Tamamo	'And they're able to leave, of course.' "I suppose things have improved." It's difficult for Tamamo to say anything positive about the City, even if this may be a bit unfair in those cases where enormous efforts have been made. Deep trenches take a surprisingly long time to fill. 'She's actually proven herself shockingly useful, every now and again.' "On occasion, this has been so." Tamamo thinks back to Abnormality rehab, but she then has to suppress a frown, a recalling the last time she heard Lilian and Angela talk. '...about how it's not quite fair that you seldom ever get to benefit from it. I mean, we're supposed to be sharing our things, aren't we?' "You are entirely correct, of course." 'Just watch!' And then-- "Oh? My, my, my." She watches. Quietly, "However did you discover such a thing?" No one needs to insist to her that it's an ordinary mask. If a magical item were involved, she'd have noticed. Reading Tamamo's energy in the moment might be difficult. It would be bizarre, in most circumstances, to make a behavioral comparison between her and the Archwolf, but eyes that glow when shadowed and the odd impression of too-pointed teeth, together with keenly sharp, silently held interest of no clear intent... is a common ground that still wouldn't help those two get along, most probably. 'Go on! Try something!' There are so many things Tamamo could tell Petra to do, almost all with a definite certainty that she'd attempt them. Naturally, that makes them requests of little interest. "Hmm, I wonder..." It would be far less impressive if she'd needed to be told. "Is 'confidence' what lets her perform with neither fuss nor instruction?" Something Petra often talked about tugs at her memory. "'Confidence' surely cannot translate to 'attentiveness' all on its own." But whatever does translate into that, she's interested in it. A few ideas run through her mind. Tragically, she can only use one at a time. Since she was already looking at Petra, the step of focusing attention is more than fulfilled, the absolute barest form of 'addressing someone.' Tamamo turns her attention away and toward the presently messy mass of gardening equipment, and slowly tilts her head, before glancing back at Petra with narrowed eyes. Quietly enough to be obviously to Lilian, while leaning up against her, yet not qualifying as anything like a secret whisper, "Could this be used, ah, 'in the field'? I have not prepared such accessories, but now, you have me wondering..."
Petra Soroka	"Go on! Try something!" There's lots of different masks that Petra's worn by now, in many different contexts. Most of them, in one way or another, make it easier for her to emote, by focusing and lensing a particular aesthetic-- smugly confident in her masquerade mask, self-assuredly claiming the opera as her territory as a natural extension of her equipped outfit, to monologue and spin metaphors as part of her mannerisms. The fox mask, though, was infused with Tamamo's priming instructions to not draw attention to herself at all, to be more like a helpful doll, decorative like a handbag. So where that kind of line might normally stab Petra psychologically and spike her heart rate in readiness, instead, she's oddly dissociatively contemplative about it. There's a faint rise and fall of her chest visible through the fabric, breathing, to meditatively inhale the scented steam that she set up, and the heat of the steeping tea through the Silver, as hazy static fills where those thoughts would otherwise be. Like ice crusting over a lake, Lilian's instruction to Tamamo suspends Petra in stasis, broken by the warmth of the sun. While Tamamo discusses her merits with Lilian right in front of her, Petra unobtrusively moves to pick up the teapot, after precisely five minutes by Lilian's count. Without interrupting, she pours for each of them, and then removes the teabag from the pot and encapsulates it in a bubble of Silver to make it vanish like a magic trick. The teapot is left nearby, floating on its little platform. When Tamamo's attention turns back to her again, she animates and comes to life again, bowing slightly automatically. Without being spoken to, she doesn't make a word in return, but her lips move silently where they're barely visible under the mask if you look. Going over to the garden equipment, Petra has her first moment of internal hesitation. Conscious thought dimly emerges from underwater, breaking waves of having to consider her own actions for the first time in a few minutes. Taking Tamamo and Lilian's agreement on the subject of 'grandness' at their word, Petra bends over, sleeves falling over her hands, and then simply deploys a fractal of Silver that forks from a stream coming out of the end of her sleeve. Every trowel, bag, glove, and all the other accoutrements are wrapped around and lifted up simultaneously, the web of Silver weaving within itself to reorganize them into a stack floating in front of her, while her two hands are occupied holding a spare flowerpot. It's a couple minutes before she's back from depositing them in the garden shed, which leaves Tamamo and Lilian actually private time to discuss her, as if it necessarily makes a difference from doing it in front of her masked face.
Lilian Rook	'I suppose things have improved.' "Despite everyone's best efforts." Lilian mutters. She dispels the thoughts with a firm double clap to both cheeks. This is weekend* time. 'You are entirely correct, of course.' Lilian's danger sense goes off, despite not being able to think of any concrete examples where she screwed this up somehow. "So there's no problem!" she says, twenty percent a question and eighty percent a hopeful assertion. 'Oh? My, my, my. However did you discover such a thing?' §Hm. I don't think she'd take this one in the flattering tone in which it should obviously be interpreted.§ "A few clues here and there." Lilian says, truthful enough for government work. "Her behaviour when sneaking into places in costume. Her silly little faux-Arbiter outfit. The outfit I had to get her to blend in with the Etrurians in Elibe. You start to notice it once you've seen it enough times." Unlisted: the road trip, certainly. 'Is 'confidence' what lets her perform with neither fuss nor instruction?' "If you were to ask me to be specific, I might say it's a mixture of clarity and semi-anonymity." Lilian says. Musing on the subject more deeply than she had before, she taps away at her cheek with a fingertip, staring off into the branches of the tree. "I mean, all three of us know that she struggles to do anything right if she doesn't have a role model or a specific charge in mind to follow after. So it's sort of obvious in retrospect; anyone would be more productive if they were a little less 'Petra' and a little more 'a role'." She 'pfft's softly, remembering something. "I think Parsons had something to say about this. Clothed cognition or something?" 'Could this be used, ah, 'in the field'?' "I don't see why not." she says. "That's where she's been the most helpful, after all. You wouldn't think it, but she actually thrives as a little entourage girly." She gestures, for emphasis, at Petra hurrying over to the garden equipment; like a dog performing at a show, interacting with every prop on the obstacle course. "See? She can absolutely pay attention if you give her a starting point from which to assume what to pay attention to. Frankly, it's a bit cruel to overtax her brain by expecting her to figure everything out herself." Lilian says, strangely fondly despite how objectively condescending the words are. "I'm not unaware that you two always seem to struggle to match wavelengths, so as soon as I thought about this . . . you know?" Sliding forward, further over the table, and thus more into Tamamo's space, Lilian wears a slightly bashful smile, saying "It's like, of course I want my wife to be able to use my retainer while I'm away, you know?" There was really no particular need to use that language to explain it. Lilian just likes the samurai comparison in her head. "It'd make me happy if I could trust her to take care of you too, when need be."
Tamamo	This being a sort of experiment, it follows that Petra is being tested. Judged, even. It's not a very clean experiment, of course. All that priming... but Tamamo can try it again, under different circumstances, where the risks are minor and the gain is substantial. "Very good," she says, while receiving tea. It could mean 'the tea,' but really means 'politely and properly completing the task before advancing to the next.' To Lilian, "Having less, ah, 'nervous energy,' would be..." Tamamo trails off, thinking about how much nervousness she's added directly to Petra's life. Surely not to the extent of accidentally causing her to muck up anything she otherwise wouldn't have. It's fine! Yes. Watching the Silver being used serves to remind Tamamo that no one here is actually in a deep trance. It only looks that way for reasons that are still being examined. And yet, it's easiest to continue treating Petra like a servant. No one would bother to hold their tongue around a servant. Deafness to anything not meant for one's ears is a conveniently shared fiction, and acting otherwise would break the spell. And yet... '...a mixture of clarity and semi-anonymity.' "Oh? Mm, yes, I see." 'I mean, all three of us know that she struggles to do anything right if she doesn't have a role model or a specific charge in mind to follow after.' "Most keenly do I recall." That goes almost as far back as to when she first became aware of the mess. It was the prime development, even. 'I think Parsons had something to say about this. Clothed cognition or something?' "Mr. Parsons does have interesting things to say, a good portion of the time. If only he could be coaxed to consistency in the matter." It has yet to fall to Tamamo to examine Flamel's head in more detail than that. Perhaps someday. '. . . you know?' Tamamo's smile is filled with warmth, though a barely audible undertone carries an impression not unlike what Katrina had briefly witnessed at Samhain. It's something only Lilian could ever be as familiar with, coming from Tamamo, as warm smiles. "Why, Lilian, it is as if... you are giving me a gift." It's a bit like a smokey purr. "Something to keep me safe... but also, to enjoy." Whether she could go as far as that 'trust her to take care of you' is rather less clear, and in need of more detail, but not urgently so. "Given this much... finding where to take her next... yes, I can try a few things. Oh, but were you... worried? I suppose we had made rather too little progress in too great a span of time." More like, the opportunities to take care of Petra in other ways had slipped by when she tried to keep everything appropriately subtle. There's no way to describe the story but 'bizarre,' after all that work she put in to avoid worse trouble. "Sharing... is important, after all. Speaking with one another, sharing words and feelings, is this not the basis of everything?" That's a little different.