Scene #9450: Find Your Center (3)

Owner	Pose
Madeleine Cadrasteia	BGM: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=npsf7HcZKQg After the tensions that came with lunchtime, the return to the open road is perhaps a welcome retreat. Interstate 90 crosses the Continental Divide and carries on through the Rocky Mountains for hundreds of miles in total. This lengthy passage is eased somewhat by the requested more-frequent stops for leg-stretching et cetera, and in time the highway reaches the feet of the mountains and turns southward into Wyoming. It's not always easy to tell, after hours on the road with the mountains at your back, that something in this world is wrong. The geographical distortions are subtle, on the human scale, and harder to detect in motion than when standing still and really paying attention to one's surroundings. However, what is not seen can still be heard: thunder rolls across the sky despite a lack of rain or lightning. "Center must be on the move again," Madeleine comments. "Pulling the sky taut like a drum." By the time it gets dark and Madeleine is starting to feel the fatigue of an all-day drive, the vanful of Elites arrives in Buffalo, WY (population 4,415). The Bighorn Mountains loom to the west, usually-scenic peaks seething with subtle motion as spacetime readjusts their positions by the hour. On a good day there may still be some pedestrians out just after sunset, but this is not a good day: people are well aware that something strange is going on, even if they don't know all the details. Madeleine, eager to step out from behind the wheel, picks the first place to stay that she finds: one Mansion House Motel. The motel is not, in fact, a mansion house; a note at the front desk explains in apologetic terms that the mansion itself is now a private residence. The place is decorated with an intentional (and genuine!) 1950s charm, and the rooms on offer each have a different interior theme. Maddie books the two-bed Wildlife Room, which leaves a plethora of quirky options for anyone who isn't rooming with her. "You're our only guests tonight," explains the nervous-looking but congenial man running the desk. A split-second glance out the window at the slowly-heaving mountains is enough explanation why. "Pick a room, pair up if you want," Madeleine says. "I'll order some pizzas for dinner, 'kay?"
Lilian Rook	Lilian fucking off into the woods like that had been scary, but her return is utterly anticlimactic. Thirty six minutes and forty nine seconds later, she appears in the car again, woozy enough on the verge of sleep that she talks to herself for the few more minutes it takes to zone out completely. Despite her disheveled hair, two bloodstained fingernails, and various burs and leaves caught on her socks, the state she returns to the group in is 'dreamily content'. The fact that she's holding her sword would be alarming if she did anything with it except propping the hilt up against the inner roof handhold, lightly stab the floor of Madeleine's van with the other end, and pass out snuggled up against the flat of the blade with both arms around the guard. How she doesn't slice herself moving around in her sleep is anyone's guess; she mouths a lot of words and twitches around in halfway acted-out motions like this. Lilian wakes up well before the motel. The state she's in is . . . considerably better. Far from drug free, but at least two thirds less impaired. After burbling a "Good morning Norton . . .", she reaches in Petra's direction for water, then rummages around in her bag for what must be prescription medication; properly in a bottle and with labels, before draining most of the water after. Not wanting to return to her book, she settles on an idle slow-life game on a stickered black and green playbrick for a while, soon demanding to be hand-fed snacks by Petra. During a break where she gets out her phone and sends a several messages to multiple contacts-- Tamamo, Ceri, Marc, Cecilia, an Eleanor and Sabrina group chat, and then a matching Arina and Satsuki one-- she pauses to stretch, whine being being 'stiff' and 'sore' and 'damp', then blink in half-remembered confusion, and blurt out "Wait did I kiss Matilda?" . . . . . . . . Despite potentially finding use for Petra's help in getting out of the car, Lilian wobbles along through the front door of the Mansion Motel using only her exquisitely menacing artifact sword as a minor walking aide. Hair untied and re-tied in back, makeup slightly cleaned up, having replaced her inside shirt, skirt and socks at a stop, she looks mostly downright functional, if very tired. She can even manage to go up to the front desk and book the tree-themed room without asking! And pay for it herself! "Pizza sounds fine. As long as it's not too greasy. I'm starving." Lilian says, as if settling for something. "God. I'm too tired to even take a shower. Isn't there somewhere to sit down for a minute?"
Ozhira	Pulling out of that little restaurant through the woods and back to the freeway might have involved passing a police car on the side of the road and a uniformed officer speaking with a disheveled hunter; "I know what a deer is, Stanley, and that weren't no deer!" -- Ozhira spends most of the driving time quiet; since nobody seems terribly interested in interacting with them, especially Mesmer, they simply marinate quietly in the conversations going on around them. Lilian coming down off a horrendously dangerous cocktail of painkillers and alcohol, Petra's fussiness over her well-being, Matilda's earnest confidence, Regulus' chill vibe and love of music. At each rest stop, they disembark and wander about, imitating the stretches but not the complaints or conversation. At the end of each rest, they resume their seat without objection. Somewhere during the final leg towards Buffalo, the creature's head tilts downward towards their hands, resting primly in their lap. One hand lifts, turning palm-up. How much more must we grow? Even like this we do not fit in. The Beast rumbles discontentedly through the constellation of their aggregate consciousness, shaking the stars of their unified mind in the proverbial heavens. From an outward perspective, their eyes dart sidelong to glance out the window at the passing Wyoming scenery. An entirely symbolic gesture. -- Mansion Manor Motel. Ozhira stares up at the sign once they've left the van, recalling the Goat Hotel on a previous trip with Madeleine. After a minute or so, they give their head an entirely symbolic shake. It might also be taken as a response to the idea of room and board. "We will, stay out here," the Devourer comments. In the dim light just outside the motel's office, it becomes clear their eyes have something similar to a tapidem lucidem; except the eyeshine is an unwelcome brake-light red, "It is where-- we belong."
Ivy Carrow	There are limits to how dense and self-absorbed that Ivy can be. "Wish I'd brought Luz with me." Ivy frowned, looking back over her shoulder at Lilian, cuddling her sword in her sleep. "But, at least she has you to make sure she'll be okay?" She smiled at Petra. Somehow, it didn't seem to occur to her in the moment that Mesmer was a medical professional. "Pulling the sky taut like a drum." "This could have terrifying ramifications, you know." Ivy said, looking out the window. "What if it causes fractures in the mantle, below the surface? Or to weaken to the point that holes form? What if it dislodges a river into a new path, leaves some town dry? Or puts another in the new path of the water...Can I have the map? Let me see if there's any risk of losing one of the places we'll be." She's a little more disturbed, as she stares at the landscape. "This kind of spatial distortion is incredibly dangerous, in the long term. If it stays like this for too much longer, or STAYS like this, there's could be a lot of trouble. If this isn't localized, this could bring the world up a whole hazard level." Maybe a good time for her Warprunners to expand in? But NOT until space had a chance to stabilize. "Well." She says, leaning elbow against the side of the car, palm propped up against her cheek, finding a smile. "At least we have the view." _______________________ If the grim subject of the future of the region had any impact on Ivy, she didn't show it when they arrived at their destination. Bouncing out of the van, and giving herself a good streeeeetch. She claps her hands together. "See if you can't get it someplace local!" She says, to Madeleine, before bouncing in, renting out the Travel room for herself. "If anyone else wants to room with, it's on me!"
Petra Soroka	With Lilian passed out pressed against Petra after the excitement of lunch, Petra is staunchly determined to stay awake to enjoy the contact as long as she can and make sure she can watch over Lilian for her safety. About sixty seconds later, she's asleep. Until the next stop, she's totally unconscious with her cheek on Lilian's shoulder, surprisingly drained for a day with so little activity. By the time the car's pulling into Wyoming, Petra's awake again and fixated on the scenery, however many times she's seen this sort of thing before-- it's just different when you can see it through a car window, filtered through a lens of mundanity. It doesn't hurt that by looking at the window she's also looking in Lilian's direction, though her eyes keep drifting to a spot of black hair that got tangled in the woods, a blemish that doesn't disappear like usual. "Crazy to think that the national parks in the west are the best thing that the American government has ever done. Given that the thing they did was just 'not doing anything at all'. It's kind of, like, incredible, for a government to go 'this place is so pretty that even we shouldn't defile it', like they're just admitting that everything they make is ugly." As Petra spends more time in the United States, she gradually fills up a meter that slides past 'decolonization' and into 'Pixy from Ace Combat'. The unthinkable luxury of being able to just sit around with Norton on their shared lap, feeding Lilian fruit and jerky, puts Petra in the least aggressive state possibly anyone's ever seen her in. Neither Madeleine or Ozhira are capable of ruining her mood, Mesmer is practically a blind spot in her vision, and she even drops the 'Matildork' name for a bit while chattering with her and Regulus. The fact that she smells a little bit like blood every time she comes back from vanishing during roadside stops only seems to improve her mood each time. "Wait did I kiss Matilda?" "Oh, you were really out of it, huh-- um, er, yes, but it was on her forehead." Petra purses her lips. It didn't start during the time loop, given her fixation on records, but experiencing perfect recall definitely intensified Petra's stress around the idea of information entropy through forgetting. "You just seemed like you were trying to comfort her about something. I can try to tell you everything that happened to jog your memory tonight, if you want." "If this isn't localized, this could bring the world up a whole hazard level." "Ugh, god." Petra rolls her eyes. "And the world's fucked, and it's all the U.S.'s fault, like it's the fucking center of the world. It's not like the center even left the continental United States as far as we know. Why would the rest of the world have any issues? I mean, fuck, why would anything one inch below the surface have any issues? The fucking country's borders are a funny little line people draw on a map; it's like crumpling up a piece of paper and saying it'll cause an earthquake." The motel is kind of plain and annoying compared to the pretty landscape. It immediately redeems itself when both Lilian and Petra simultaneously spot the tree themed room, and Petra's quietly vindicated by Lilian's choice. Now again, she wins a silent battle against her forum nemesis in her head, only momentarily bemoaning the presence of a second bed. "It is where-- we belong." "Same as all of us, sister," Petra asides to Ozhira while tying her hair up until a teeny ponytail. "But inside's got showers. And pizza." "I'd be so down for pizza, anyways. Do we wanna sit in the courtyard benches in the middle there?"
Ivy Carrow	"...why would anything one inch below the surface have any issues?..." "We have to assume that its influence reaches high enough into the sky to cause THAT sound, at least, and that sounds pretty high up." Ivy says. "Oh sure, the U.S. is a blight across almost every world it exists in. Civilizations can be more dangerous aspects of a world than monsters, most of the time... I'm not talking about national borders. A little inconsistency in the mantle can create a volcanic hotspot. Can put a lot of ash into the air. Can pollute the atmsophere, block the sun. Make a lot of trouble for everyone."
Regulus	Holy shit. Regulus's jaw is hanging open when Lilian appears in the train again. She is visibly shocked about her condition! This is mitigated, somewhat, by Lilian using a sword as a pillow which is somehow the coolest and most worrying thing she's seen at the same time and she's not even, like, pro violence but she just has to sort of watch Lilian snooze with that thing for a while and wonder how exactly she's managing to do that without cutting an artery or something. Is this not even the first time she's used a sword pillow? Are swords actually comfortable to sleep against? Did she train herself to be comfortable sleeping against a sword? Slowly but surely she shifts back to facing forward and changes the radio station again. --Somebody calls you, you answer quite slowly, a girl with kaleidoscope eyes o/~ Cellphone flowers of yellow and green o/~ Towering over your head Looking for the girl with the sun in her eyes o/~ And she's gone o/~ But she does keep the volume pretty low for the snoozer(s). ''Wait did I kiss Matilda?'' "Yeah." Regulus says. "Oh, uh, on the forehead though." She tries some multidimensional radio, eventually hitting Matilda up for recommendations. She's can't get previews--she didn't quite have that much time, but she can turn the dial until Matilda or Petra says 'stop'. She is eager to get out of the car too when theyfinally arrive. Regulus drags out her stuff from the car--since they are staying the night she finally takes her guitar out from the back and makes her way inside. "I call motorcycle room." She says. "Love the motorbike races." She leaves it vague whether she means participating in them or watching them. "With napkins you can soak up the grease." Regulus says. "Sometimes I do that when it's too sticky." Of course she likes pizza. ''Isn't there somewhere to sit down for a minute?'' "Well there's the room... Bet you're not doing any more travel today." She quietly hopes Lilian does shower, but her nature as a musician understands that sometimes you just don't do so for a few days. She's pretty sure she hears about that all the time in the stories about various bands. And they... are a band...of heroes!! So it should work out fine. Well okay, a band of heroes and a supervillain. She's not sure if Petra's a supervillain ironically or not but their bond... OF MUSIC ... and robot buddies?? is unbreakable! Well no it's probably breakable but since she lost most of her local friends she's motivated. "If you've got time, we can try jamming." Regulus asides to Petra, hoping that she also showers first before all that. She holds up her guitar case as explanation. "While waiting for rooms? Sure." Regulus adds.
Lilian Rook	'Oh, you were really out of it, huh-- um, er, yes, but it was on her forehead. You just seemed like you were trying to comfort her about something.' 'Oh, uh, on the forehead though.' "Oh thank god." Lilian says, deflating from exigent worry into a state of relaxation. A moment later, she shoots back upright again. "Ah-- That isn't to say-- Oh goodness um--" Okay, her emotional regulation is still kind of shot, and her judgement isn't great, but she can clearly think at least one step ahead now. "I'd just hate to have caused any trouble!" By which she means 'get in trouble'. Flopping back in her seat, she groans "Ugh. What a sobering reminder of my own continued humanity." . . . . . . . . 'I mean, fuck, why would anything one inch below the surface have any issues? The fucking country's borders are a funny little line people draw on a map; it's like crumpling up a piece of paper and saying it'll cause an earthquake.' 'Oh sure, the U.S. is a blight across almost every world it exists in. Civilizations can be more dangerous aspects of a world than monsters, most of the time... I'm not talking about national borders.' "God knows. Maybe whoever did it has their brain completely rotted by movies." Lilian says, punctuated by a yawn. "Whenever aliens invade the Earth, it's the United States. When an apocalyptic outbreak happens, it starts in the United States. When someone gains superpowers and has to save the world, United States. I bet they found some way to do this." she mutters on. "Fuck. You should have heard the relief I was holding in when it turned out the Tree of Perfection hit Peru and not fucking California." Okay, her judgement is lowkey very impaired to be blurting that out. 'With napkins you can soak up the grease. Sometimes I do that when it's too sticky.' "Fascinating." Lilian laughs at a joke she doesn't actually make out loud. "The things we can learn from the ancient wisdom of the middle class . . ." She lapses into slightly off-kilter giggling. 'If anyone else wants to room with, it's on me!' "Regulus with APPLe. Bouanich with Mesmer. Cadrasteia with . . . you I suppose?" Lilian says. She hasn't explained why Petra is presumably with her in her bleary slow-motion blinking. 'If you've got time, we can try jamming.' "Nhhhh . . . Still need to get my training hours in." Lilian moans. "Then I'm going to want to divine a new stop, to help with . . . what was it, magnetite or something? There's not going to be any time for alchemy, but I suppose it's not like I used anything I expected. Ugh." She stops to rub her face. "I slept hours and I still feel dead on my feet. This better not have fucked up my polyphasic cycle or so help me god."
Foundation Scions	Dutifully, Mesmer Jr. does end up taking the front passenger seat, to Regulus' detriment, and to every other person in the van's benefit- shutting up and staring out only at the road in front and the empty, mountainous terrain around, saves everyone the venom of her snark, though it would be a stretch to call her behavior for the rest of the ride 'guilty sulking' instead of 'simmering anger'. The strongest reaction she gives to anything (except the rest-stops, which get a flat 'thanks' before she slinks off, and returns smelling of tobacco), is just to Lilian's reappearance, and that reaction is only to stare side-eyed and wordlessly judgmental- and to stare, worried, at the sword she's holding. Matilda, however, toughs it out in the trenches of the back seat- far more awkward and worried, which doesn't abate when Lilian seems... not necessarily okay, but calmed enough to sleep. At the front of her mind, she's trying to pick apart the puzzle of what the heck to even do about Mesmer's behavior, to consult (abbreviated, travel-sized) regulatory handbooks, to have a specific rule of conduct to point at when she inevitably has to have a Talk with her (because if you can't point to an exact written rule, nobody listens to a chastisement on behavior, even if it's clearly inappropriate! She's learned that much as the SPDM's Monitor Assistant, and it definitely, surely, holds true always!) 'Wish I'd brought Luz with me.' "Pardon? Ms. Carrow, what is a 'lu'?" She's trying, where she oughtn't, to ask about what's clearly a pluralized American Word, and not a Name originally in a Romance language as ought to be far more sensible an assumption. Curiosity is getting the best of her and making her be silly and a little stupid! 'Pulling the sky taut like a drum.' "Ach, aie- c'est horrible! The noise it makes?" Matilda has been trying to be serious and worried about the mission at hand, but knowledge of the theft is different, and too abstracted, to really twist at the gut the way unearthly thunder can. 'Wait did I kiss Matilda?' "Ah, er, w-well, yes, by technicality, Ms. Rook! I thought it perhaps very unexpected, ah, er, but it was only upon the forehead!" Matilda is flustered by the wording, fully the least expected string of words she could possibly hear from anyone. . . . 'Love the motorbike races.' "Hmph! Of course a rambunctious ne'er-do-well would hold such a preference, Ms. Regulus! To hold a fondness for loud, noisy, and- and generally poorly-behaved vehicles of the rudest types of driver, I- I am certain the Foundation's remedial programs could correct such a bad opinion! Ms. Regulus! You should, instead, be fond of 'reading' and 'rules-following!'!" She's somehow pleased with herself for this. "Ah, er, but, Ms. Mesmer Jr., she and I will occupy the 'Wyoming' room! Per the highwayside signage, this is the American state of Wyoming, yes?" "I'd rather have my own room." "What? But, er- that would cost am additional fee, and, and, Ms. Mesmer Jr.! We have to discuss your-" "I'm not going to sleep here. It's a matter of privacy and efficiency both." "Er- no! That is not acceptable, actually! You would not permit the requisite discussions to occur, and, what's more, I am invoking as of now, the 'buddy system'! As per handbook ruling-" "Fine. The 'Wyoming room'." 'I'll order some pizzas for dinner, 'kay?' "Oh, oh! Ms. Cadrasteia, if it is of course within the mission's (no doubt sufficient) budgeting, and, locationally or temporally feasible... then it is my highly-esteemed suggestion that you procure 'Pizza Hut' pizza!" "I'll pass." "Eh-? But I was not asking you..." "I know. But that's my answer, still. Give me the room keys?" "Ah..."
Petra Soroka	"I'm not talking about national borders." "Like, we are, though," Petra argues back. "Fucking, what even is the United States? Right? It's fucking nothing. Look at those mountains and tell me that borders should matter at all to them. And that place-- what was it called? Bella... Belle-- whatever. That 'center' doesn't mean anything at all to the world. Hawaii's not even on the same tectonic plate as we are right now." "I bet they found some way to do this." "Exactly!!" Petra gestures towards Lilian in agreement, and then awkwardly hesitates. Trying to hastily brush past Lilian blurting out stuff about the Tree of Perfection and trample over anyone trying to get too curious about that, she goes on. "Er, it's like, they're trying to reinforce American hegemony over the apocalypse narrative to cement America as the bastion of modern civilization. It's just their natural assumption that the end of the world is going to start in America and be focused on it, even though it's just a fraction of the world's land, because they can't conceive of their country being affected by anything that starts anywhere else. I bet that the person who stole it was a plant from the fucking government." She definitely learned the phrase 'American hegemony' in school recently. "If you've got time, we can try jamming." "Jamming? Huh?" It takes Regulus holding up the guitar for Petra to understand what she even means by that. She leans against a wood pillar outside the lobby, folding her arms and suddenly looking really uncertain. "Oh, like... with music. Er-- I haven't actually, like, been in a band or anything before. I've almost never even played with anyone at all. There was Angela with her banjo, and... before that, just, Val, I guess. But...." Petra's eyes slide towards the parked van, and she abruptly regains all of her confidence. "Yeah, I mean, I'll fuck around and show off, why not. We're not doing anything else." Without actually needing to ask Madeleine to unlock the van, Petra hurries over and pops open the trunk, slinging her stickered-up guitar case across her back. Wherever the pizzas end up, so too does Petra with her guitar-- one or both of them! "Fine. The 'Wyoming room'." Egging Matilda on is a reflex both spurred on by Matilda saying 'buddy system' so earnestly, and to further torment Mesmer with her buddy's rambling. "It's kinda incredible how well-behaved you are even when everyone makes it so difficult for you. So what's your rulebook say about the buddy system?"
Madeleine Cadrasteia	"This could have terrifying ramifications, you know." Madeleine nods. "It really could. I'd be shocked if whoever's done this doesn't realize that, so we might have some real dangerous people waiting at the end of this road." "It's kind of, like, incredible, for a government to go 'this place is so pretty that even we shouldn't defile it', like they're just admitting that everything they make is ugly." "Civilizations can be more dangerous aspects of a world than monsters, most of the time..." "I'm with you on that much, yeah. All it takes is for some folks to get together and decide they're smarter than mother nature, and they'll just... blech. Undo in a matter of years what took thousands or millions to make in the first place. It's so disrespectful. Really pisses me off when folks show up someplace, decide they know how it should really look, and start messing everything up." A bitter pause. "God, can you imagine though? If it were the national government doing this. I can't say I'd be shocked." "We will, stay out here. It is where-- we belong." "Oh c'mon, don't be like that," Madeleine says, her tone halfway between annoyed and sympathetic. "You of all people could use the practice socializing. I'll get you a personal Meat Lovers' if you come inside and promise to eat like a human being." "Regulus with APPLe. Bouanich with Mesmer. Cadrasteia with . . . you I suppose?" "Oh, yeah, that works too..." Madeleine says, trying to sound thoughtful but utterly incapable of hiding that she's a little flustered at the idea. She waves to get the desk clerk's attention and cancels her separate booking, then hands Ivy one of the two keys to their(!) room. Was that your imagination, Ivy, or was her hand shaking juuuust a little? "...it is my highly-esteemed suggestion that you procure 'Pizza Hut' pizza!" Madeleine offers a blank stare. Does Matilda know about the state of American fast food? Surely she learned from lunch already... At last she replies, "I think I'll get a local place, like Ivy wants." Pizza is broadly accepted as an idea, and Madeleine steps out to make some phone calls. When she returns a few minutes later, she joins the others in the courtyard per Petra's suggestion. "They sounded pretty happy to get some business," she says of whatever pizza place she's selected. It isn't long before a driver pulls up to the front of the motel and walks in carrying boxes of pizza and a bag with paper plates and plastic utensils. Madeleine has selected, without really thinking to consult anyone for specific requests: one large classic Margherita: globs of mozzarella, basil leaves, and olive oil one large "Sicilian": pepperoni, Italian sausage, red onion one medium "Sweet and Spicy": prosciutto, bell pepper, roasted pineapple, pepperoncinis And for Ozhira, one small "Carne Amante": pepperoni, pancetta, meatballs, Italian sausage, smoked brisket Madeleine wastes no time securing herself a slice of each of the Sicilian and the Sweet and Spicy. She alternates taking bites from first one, then the other. Weirdo.
Lilian Rook	If Lilian were awake, she'd say something catty about Mesmer staring at her sword, and how she should stop acting like it's the first time she's seen one, and then position herself intentionally weirdly. Fortunately, she is very snoozy instead, and somehow manages to keep both thighs bloodless while unconsciously snuggling like ten pounds of black metal. 'I- I am certain the Foundation's remedial programs could correct such a bad opinion! Ms. Regulus! You should, instead, be fond of 'reading' and 'rules-following!' Lilian snort-laughs. She can't help it. "If the Foundation is capable of correcting bad taste, then it's truly a miracle organization, and should likely be in charge of ruling the world." Lilian sighs, disrupted by a hiccup of suppressed laughter. 'I'm not going to sleep here. It's a matter of privacy and efficiency both.' "How much privacy could you possibly need?" Lilian mutters. 'it is my highly-esteemed suggestion that you procure 'Pizza Hut' pizza!' "Pizza Hut it is." Lilian sighs. She doesn't know. "I'll eat whatever Bouanich eats. I'll use the yard for cleasa; the roof for meditation and array training, if I have to." Never mind the poor little motel owner right there. 'I bet that the person who stole it was a plant from the fucking government.' "Oh that'd be just typical." Lilian says with an oddly sour expression. "They're already so mad that it's like one fourth American and the American part isn't white and hates America." 'Yeah, I mean, I'll fuck around and show off, why not. We're not doing anything else.' Lilian rubs her eyes groggily. "Guitar? You're going to . . . ?" She zones out for way too long. "Oh my god you play guitar?" She knows that. She made fun of her for it!
Regulus	''Reading! Rules-following!'' Regulus tries her best to convince Matilda that motorcycles are cool, actually. "With motorcycles you're not supposed to follow the rules. That's part of the joy of motorbikes. It's practically against the rules to follow the rules." Yeah this is probably not going to work. "Plus when making a quick getaway, you can go places with a motorbike you can't take a car!" "It is also easier to crash with a motorbike." APPLe helpfully supplies, carring a toolbox with his ... hands. '''Pizza Hut' pizza!'' "Oh shit I know Pizza Hut. Pizza Hut's still around, huh. Daaamn, I always wanted to try Pizza Hut but even London didn't have a PIzza Hut yet." ''The ancient wisdom of the middle class . . .'' Regulus, who has just earned enough money to pay Matilda's original divination fee, opens her mouth. And then shuts it. It's not worth it, Regulus, she tells herself. Maybe rock the booat after she's gotten proper rest. ''I haven't actually, like, been in a band or anything before.'' "There was the--band we made for the suitcase, but I haven't actually had a longterm band before either. Usually I'd get a bunch of musicians who needed a guitarist and I'd play a gig with them and then move on." Regulus says. "Playing by yourself is cool, though I like the feeling of being part of something bigger." ''I'll fuck around and show off, why not.'' "Yeah! You gotta show off!" Regulus agrees. "Kinda curious about the buddy system too." Wherever pizza is, she plunks down and starts tuning her guitar. "Guess wwe're in a buddy system right now, APPLe!" "Seems that way, Captain." They hifive each other. Regulus is happy to not share a pizza with Ozhira and collects plenty of napkins to go with her pizza and even utensils, which she uses to cut up the pizza and eat segment by segment. She's about to play the guitar, naturally. She insisted on a Dr. Pepper and there's a giant two liter one hanging around. That's for post-jam session. ''Oh my god you play guitar?'' She, like, got stabbed a bunch--Regulus tells herself--she got stabbed or shot multiple times or something, you have to be nice. You've gotta be nice. "Any requests?" She manages.
Ozhira	> "Same as all of us, sister," Ozhira reacts to Petra's aside with a slow, meaningful blink and a stare, almost as if they don't quite comprehend what she said in the first place. Once Lilian rattles off room pairs, though, the creature nods once-- performatively-- in agreement, "We will be fine. Like this." > "Do we wanna sit in the courtyard benches in the middle there?" They were already discussing amidst the countless voices of their song the idea of once again wrapping around the comfortably warm engine block of the parked van. Half of their mind is still in that conversation when courtyard benches are brought up; and the beast reacts as if they had only just noticed it was there at all. > "I'll get you a personal Meat Lovers' if you come inside and promise to eat like a human being." Well, there's one guaranteed way to get Ozhira to do what you want. Their internal discussion completely derails into the mental equivalent of a thousand people all banging their hands on the table chanting PIZZA PIZZA PIZZA. "Our bucket is-- still in the van," Oh right. Ozhira doesn't need a bed to sleep in, so they could just room it with Ivy and Maddie and not crowd them in the least. The back and forth about America and American Exceptionalism/conspiracy goes entirely over their figurative head when food comes up; even with Ozhira not seeming all that hungry. They did evidently eat an entire deer just a few hours ago. Most carnivores would be set for at least a few days after that... but this is Ozhira, the Devourer in the Dark, not even God knows what the deal is with their metabolism. Once pizza arrives and they're done staring after the retreating delivery car, their attention shifts to the meat-heavy personal pie in front of them. One could almost see stars in their eyes, watching the steam drift up through the crisp air. It soon becomes clear they're using this also as an opportunity to observe; because when they finally start 'eating like a human being' they actually do so. No funny absorbing it with their hand or spearing it into their mouth with a tongue harpoon; Ozhira actually gingerly lifts a slice, watching the cheese stretch until it breaks, then chomps down with-- well, they forgot to shift to square human teeth, but zigzaggy teeth are fine right? > "Any requests?" "We would like to hear--" Ozhira's voice comes out even though their mouth is full of pizza. Don't worry about it, "--Your favorite, to play."
Foundation Scions	'If the Foundation is capable of correcting bad taste, then it's truly a miracle organization, and should likely be in charge of ruling the world.' Matilda, innocent and pure of heart, (and not insignificantly because the Foundation is, in a way, ruling the world), simply nods along and takes Lilian at her word and not her intent- "The remedial and disciplinary efforts of the St. Pavlov Foundation are, in fact, most successful in ensuring that prospective employees from all varieties of history, era, and personal sentiment can be made to fit the highest of behavioral standards! Er, sometimes, in fact, my duties as Monitor Assistant extend to those manner of efforts!" 'How much privacy could you possibly need?' "Your imagination functions, does it not? I don't need to answer." Mesmer gets this by Matilda's vigilant coworker-moderating by the fact that Matilda just can't really assess the vibe to Mesmer's similarly-muttered words back to Lilian. Still, Matilda makes a concerned, confused little noise of alarm. 'It's kinda incredible how well-behaved you are even when everyone makes it so difficult for you. So what's your rulebook say about the buddy system?' "Excuse me? It, it is, in fact, very easy to maintain a proper manner of behavior! Still, I excell at it! Er, however, the 'buddy system', c'est une méthodologie- ah, it is a danger-management technique, to not allow an assigned coworker to be alone, in the case that something disastrous befall them from such isolation or uncommunicated position! So..." Well, it sounds like it doesn't actually apply to hotel rooms, huh. 'Pizza Hut it is.' Matilda sweep!!!!!!!! 'I think I'll get a local place, like Ivy wants.' "W-what? Excuse me, did you, er, mishear my suggestion? The premier, and world-famous American-style pizzeria? I am sure a local venue would be, er, tolerable, but-! Ms. Cadrasteia! I implore you most heavily to reconsider!" She's literally whining about this, with the full kit and kaboodle of big wet pleading eyes in that silly little straw-hat and overalls getup. She's like a weird poster with impact-font captions of a cat begging for a cheeseburger. Unsuccesful, and lingering around the courtyard, Matilda is visibly sulking, to a greater extent than the (also sulking) Mesmer who stands as close to the perimeter as she can. When the pizza arrives (or is gone and gotten), Matilda approaches it all, hesitant, and with a still painfully disappointed Look about her, and selects slices of the 'Sweet and Spicy' pie, to pick at and try and pretend she doesn't like it (she likes it). Mesmer actually just doesn't approach.
Petra Soroka	"I think I'll get a local place, like Ivy wants." "Seems a little rude." Petra scoffs at Madeleine showing preferential treatment, to someone besides who Petra would show preferential treatment towards. How dare she. "I mean, I bet they're happy to get business. They probably usually only make one fucking pizza a week in a place like this." "Oh my god you play guitar?" "I--" Petra goes through the same internal mantra that Regulus does, compounded a hundred times by the fact that she's talked about playing guitar way more to Lilian. Valiantly, she struggles onwards. "Um. I've played the guitar for two years. I played ukulele since, like, nine years before that. I got an electric guitar a couple months ago. Do-- do you have any preferences?" Attempting to recover from that blow to her morale, Petra helps Lilian over to the courtyard if she needs it, then plops down on a mound of mulch around a tree. With a little gesture, she magically manifests her guitar in her hands and an amp besides her, and then quickly looks around to see if anyone saw that to be suitably impressed. She lays the guitar case out in front of her, flipping it open like a normal human being this time to draw out her acoustic guitar (older and more beat up-looking, with a worn sticker from some taco place in LA stuck on it) too. "Kinda curious about the buddy system too." Electric guitar set off to the side while she idly plays arpeggios on her dreadnought to warm up, Petra snickers at Regulus. "Oh, so you're interested in the Foundation now, huh?" She's got a lot more context on the Foundation and the Manus Vindictae ever since she was first instructed to bully Regulus into signing up with them, but that doesn't mean she'll stop bullying. On the topic of bands, "Yeah, I mean, even 'a gig' is way more band-experience than I've got. I've always been more of a--" She coughs, then hurries through the last part of her sentence all in one breath. "Sitting moodily on the campus lawn and playing whatever songs people ask me to kind of person."
Ivy Carrow	"Pardon? Ms. Carrow, what is a 'lu'?" "Luz," Ivy corrects, with a smile. "She's a warprunner field medic. But there were only so many seats to go around, so I thought I'd go alone." A thoughtful frown. "I thought, in a pinch, I could create a portal for them to come in. But with way things are right now, that's out of the question." Her eyes twinkled. "I bet that the person who stole it was a plant from the fucking government." "Or maybe they STARTED it," Ivy posited, happy to build off of Petra's momentum. "And now it's gotten WAY out of control." "It shows a lack of imagination, the way they build everything off their own world. Their own lives. All they can imagine is their world, but things have gone BAD." She considers. "Everything is a threat to America. Everything is framed in how it hurts America. It's like they have no faith in people's ability to care about anywhere else. Maybe train them not to care?" Ivy shrugs, 'what can you do.' "You're right that the center doesn't matter to the world. Or most of the people in it. Whoever or whatever did it, they have America on the brain." She blinks, shakes her head. "Really. Of all places to steal." Ivy shakes her head, as if grieving the thief's poor taste. At 'Pizza Hut' Ivy shares a pained, PAINED look with Madeleine at the chorus of 'Pizza Hut.' They understood. "Don't feel too bad, Matilda." Ivy insists, "You can get Pizza Hut in lots of places. Someone's been trying to set up one in my hub's plaza for a while." Ivy digs into the local food with zeal. "You know," her eyes found Matilda, deciding to try to give her a nugget of something to chew on. "Of all my runners, meeting Luz was a story...She lived in a world where the vegetation had come alive, and devoured almost ALL human civilization..."
Regulus	''In fact, my duties as Monitor Assistant extent to those manner of efforts!'' Regulus snaps to look at Matilda so fast it's a wonder her neck didn't snap. "Wait wait wait--you're the one in charge of discipline? If I do the Foundation disciplinary stuff, you'd be the one making sure I did everything properly?" She thinks the world of Matilda honestly, she's so endearing! But the idea of having to pass Matilda's judgement ... she can't actually tell whether that would be really easy or basically impossible?? But she senses there's no in between. "What does discipline even entail? Do I write 'I will not shoplift' over and over again on a chalkboard?" Regulus also makes wet stray puppy eyes at Madeleine for pizza hut but she's wearing sunglasses so nobody gets to see them. But rest assured, an effort was made. It just didn't help! ''she magically amnifest her guitar'' "Oh sick trick." Regulus says. She wishes she could just summon guitars on command instead of having to lug them everywhere. Actually, she'd prefer to be able to summon amps on command cause then she could really blow the roof off wherever she goes. ''You're interested in the Foundation now, huh?'' "I'd say I'm more interested in people from the Foundation." Regulus says. "Like, I know about Sonetto and Vertin and Matilda--Mesmer, kind of, but I don't really know much about them or what it's like working with the Foundation." "It's pretty cool to be able to take requests though. Means you haven't just memorized a set, but you can hear a song and also get its melody down." She thinks it over. Ozhira just said to play her favorite which is so unhelpful and, honestly, she's been blasting Hendrix a lot lately, she'll go for something she hasn't done before. "How's about... I Can't Get No Satisfaction? That came out in my time, but it was number 4 on the charts."
Foundation Scions	'Wait wait wait--you're the one in charge of discipline?' "Er, 'in charge of' is, perhaps, a strong wording for the duty..." No, Matilda, don't throw away a free shot of attention! "But, well, it is safe to say that the programs would not be the same without my help and involvement, Ms. Regulus!" That's definitionally true but also means literally nothing. 'Do I write 'I will not shoplift' over and over again on a chalkboard?' Matilda gasps- "You are a shop-lifter, in addition to a dangerous and unrepentant kidnapper, habitual larcenist, radio pirate, and reckless brigand? Déshonorante! Ms. Regulus! Please be sure to enroll with the St. Pavlov Foundation at once, and submit yourself to the proper disciplinary procedures!"
Lilian Rook	'Your imagination functions, does it not? I don't need to answer.' Lilian's lip starts to curl. Her eyes narrow from the bottom. Her chin tilts up and away. "Oh my god you're--" she begins, in the tone that comes just before the storm, then suddenly sighs out all of the energy she'd just mustered, and rolls her eyes at nobody but herself. "What the fuck am I on about. That's normal." She turns around as if it were greatly effortful and walks out to the yard, with nonzero care for where she steps. 'Um. I've played the guitar for two years. I played ukulele since, like, nine years before that. I got an electric guitar a couple months ago. Do-- do you have any preferences?' "Yeah okay god I know." Lilian sighs in exasperation. A second later, she catches herself, stopped in mid-motion, and suddenly bursts out laughing. "Oh my god! I forgot you'd already-- ahaha wow I'm tired!" she giggles into a second hiccup. "Sorry, sorry~ Play your guitar okay? Regulus badly needs the company, and you two are cute together~" 'I thought, in a pinch, I could create a portal for them to come in. But with way things are right now, that's out of the question.' Lilian half-listens while 'setting up' in the courtyard. This amounts to drawing a line in the dirt with the point of her sword (poor owner) that it seems wise to not cross, taking a stance that Matilda can name at the center, and . . . completely losing all instability, actually. The moment she has her blade raised to where it should be, it's like her wobbliness could pour out through her feet and disappear into the earth. Briefly disengaging one hand, with the word "Mharcáil." and two fingertips glimmering with compressed points of gold-withblack starlight, Lilian draws several faintly-vibrating lines, painted on thin air, at equidistant parts around her, then several overlapping at irregular angles in front. Once she takes her first swing-- a whisper-quiet thing of uncanny kinesthetic perfect, even as tired as she is-- she adds her own ten cents while the magic mark, briefly splashed into glittering motes, reforms from the cut. "You all worry far too much about the wrong things. If I can handle a week of fighting on starvation rations, being run through a dozen times, and losing half my bastard leg, a little medicine isn't going to kill me." She launches a series of slashes down the centerline of the middlemost mark, woven between the overlaps, without spillover. She makes a noise of dissatisfaction at some invisible sloppiness anyways. "Pills are nothing. My old stuff would make me puke blood." 'Or maybe they STARTED it. And now it's gotten WAY out of control.' "Story of the United States, darling." Lilian says, entirely focused on an intersection of mathematical vectors only she can see. Getting a little more adventurous with her movements, she plots out twelve consecutive conjoined motions, and scatters half the circle like blowing out candles. She'd bitched incessantly about the wounds in the car, but now it's like she doesn't notice them at all. "Perhaps they used it to arm a rebel group." she scoffs.
Petra Soroka	"Do I write 'I will not shoplift' over and over again on a chalkboard?" "Shoplifting, Regulus, how could you." Petra, known shoplifter, lazily monotones without even looking up from her guitar, just to be in Matilda's corner. "Oh sick trick." "Hell yeah it is." Petra slaps her guitar case with her palm. "That's Stigma Workshop tech, from the City. I bet I'm literally the only person to carry a guitar in these things instead of, like, seven chainsaws and a rocket-powered hammer or something." "I'd say I'm more interested in people from the Foundation." "Mm. I guess. Not sure why. Matilda's nice and all, but Mesmer's a piece of work." Petra shrugs, scraping her back against the tree. "Kinda seems like a 50/50. Nothing special. I guess it's different if they're, like, your world's government, or whatever." "Means you haven't just memorized a set, but you can hear a song and also get its melody down." Petra awkwardly looks down and slides her thumb along the E string with a funny little zwoop. "Er, well, I guess I can play a limited kind of requests. Mostly modern stuff, or stuff I grew up with, or, like, classics. But no one ever asks for anything else, so." "How's about... I Can't Get No Satisfaction?" "God you're so old," Petra mutters to herself, despite having just suggested that that's one of the songs she could do by request herself. "Play your guitar okay? Regulus badly needs the company, and you two are cute together~" "Oh, um-- yes ma'am!" Now that Lilian's directed her to, Petra has to come up with something to play... which she'll think about while Regulus is setting herself up. Meanwhile, a globule of Silver slides onto the table and envelops a slice of pizza in a thin sheathe, except for leaving the edge of it free to float over for Petra to nibble at hands free. "No one ever thought of doing this with pizza instead of a harmonica," She burbles, reducing the average information density per word spoken by the group noticeably.
Lilian Rook	'W-what? Excuse me, did you, er, mishear my suggestion? The premier, and world-famous American-style pizzeria?' Despite all of Matilda's pleading and begging and whining, the first words Lilian says when the pizza arrives are "Oh that's Pizza Hut? I kind of imagined something more special." after the inconsequential facts have thorougly slipped through her grasp. Lilian has definitely shoplifted like, a million times. A lot of it would technically be a felony theft from restricted areas in secure corporate buildings, actually. So she's just not going to throw stones in that glass house. Instead, she makes an irritated sounds at Ozhira scuttling off with all the delicious meat, and says "Petra, set some Sicilian aside. And wipe it off." Complaining about 'starving' earlier has also been set by the wayside. Instead, she moves on ahead with what she's already doing. While Regulus and Petra tune guitars, she pours her attention into controlling her breathing and gathering her energy, coalescing a passive arcane signature throughout her entire body into an active point below her heart, and circulating it into her limbs, struggling to focus enough that it takes a measurable amount of time instead of none. The floral patterns etched under the surface of Night Mist glow dull red from within as the magic passes effortlessly through her skin and cycles through the blade as if it were no different from her hand. Her regular practice resumes at a more brisk pace than before. For stretches, hitting one mark cascades down several more in a row without touching them; then for another, seemingly unrelated marks are scattered instead of the one hit. After more repetitions, the red grows bright enough to leave a trail, emitting bloody spark where it touches the golden lines. 'I'd say I'm more interested in people from the Foundation.' "Oh. Right." Lilian says, between two breaths, waiting for another set to continue. "How many arcanists did you even meet before the Storm? It couldn't have been a high number. The Foundation must be . . . the highest concentration of interesting people, mustn't it?"
Regulus	''God you're so old.'' Regulus bets Petra wouldn't be saying it if everybody wasn't from the dang dong future! She strums the opening to Can't Get No Satisfaction and says, "It's still a classic. People even play on the radio--actually--" She stops suddenly. "What DO you like playing? You should show me some of the melodies of the future." She bobs her head, working herself up into excitement. "Yeah yeah, show me the evolution of rock." She removes a hand from her guitar to throw the horns. ''You are a shop-lifter--'' "Um. Sometimes! Yeah! I mean, technically they boarded my boat to capture me, though I guess that was after I robbed 'em, but being dangerous is part of my roguish charm...!" Regulus is amongst the least dangerous people here, of course, but being dangerous is a STATE OF MIND for sure for sure. ''A little medicine isn't going to kill me.'' "Um. Well, even if it doesn't kill you it could still do damage so maybe take it easy...and uh... don't puke blood?" She blinks. "Wait what? Your old stuff would make you puke blood?" ''Regulus badly needs the company'' Come to think of it, Regulus was also shot wasn't she? That means she doesn't have to be nice does she? Well okay, she's not drugged out so rrrrghhh.. Be nice, be nice!! (and it's true isn't it?). ''Seven chainsaws and a rocket-powered hammer.'' "Those people really need more music in their lives." She remembers what she read about the City. "Normal music." She doesn't like the music that murders!!
Madeleine Cadrasteia	"With motorcycles you're not supposed to follow the rules. That's part of the joy of motorbikes. It's practically against the rules to follow the rules." "Yeah!" Madeleine does a little rock-on fist pump. "It's about the culture of rebellion. I'm glad Regulus gets it. I mean, I don't drive a motorcycle myself, but that's mostly 'cuz my job involves hauling so much gear around," she says with a nod vaguely in the direction of the van. "We would like to hear-- --Your favorite, to play." "Aw, c'mon," Maddie says to Ozhira for the second time in the night. "You don't know any music?" "Of all my runners, meeting Luz was a story...She lived in a world where the vegetation had come alive, and devoured almost ALL human civilization..." It's actually Madeleine who tunes in for this. "Yeah? Like carnivorous plants? That's pretty sick..." she seems more interested in the plants than in Luz, however. She watches Lilian's martial practice with intermittent interest (especially in the more overtly magical elements) while she listens to Ivy's tale. "Those people really need more music in their lives." "Hey, I mean, seven chainsaws can be a band if they want to." If who wants to, the chainsaws? What?
Ozhira	> "You don't know any music?" "Our song knows many," Ozhira remarks to Maddie, "But they are all-- Russian. Kolovrat, Bi-2, DDT, Nogu Svelo..." Eyes closing, they take another big bite of cheese and meat and sauce without obscuring their ability to talk, "We do not think Regulas, knows Russian. So we asked for, what she has the most fun, playing." > Irritated sounds at Ozhira scuttling off with all the delicious meat. The Beast pauses, still on their first slice of the Meat Lover's that they were awarded. It seems like they aren't sure who was actually grumbling, though, because the next thing Ozhira does is, using their free hand, hold up the plate with their little personal pan pie on it, "Would anyone-- like some?"
Petra Soroka	"Petra, set some Sicilian aside." Like Ozhira's mechanical counterpart, leaving sterile cleanliness in its wake instead of horrible meat goo, several more blobs of Silver slide through the grass to float onto the table. Lilian's food is brought to her on a literal Silver platter, grease smears cracking and fizzling away into absorbed carbon and rejected oxygen gas, to end up perfectly spotless. "Wait what? Your old stuff would make you puke blood?" "You should know better than to ask about a woman's medicine, Regulus," Petra says, to another woman. "I've been on all kinds of weird fucked up medications myself." Petra slaps her guitar strings, palming her tuning to an abrupt stop. "Alright, okay. I know what I'll play. Just gimme a sec." "She lived in a world where the vegetation had come alive, and devoured almost ALL human civilization..." "I think something like that happened with Ahn, but I don't actually know any details...." Petra doesn't really care about Luz or whoever, but using her as a springboard to thinking about someone she does like is a much more pleasant topic. Petra thinks about this while cords of morphmetal roll down her arm and off her fingers, attaching to her amp's cable jacks and extruding out into cords to connect to her guitar. She's obviously figured out some tricks for using the Silver to fuel her hobby, after complaining in the radio about not doing that before. Cables that she doesn't have to carry around, and can't get tangled! "Hey, I mean, seven chainsaws can be a band if they want to." "What the fuck are you talking about." Petra phrases that less as a question and more as scolding, like she should be thwacking Madeleine's head with a newspaper while saying it. She fiddles with her amp a little more, turning on a bit of reverb and pulling out her phone to sync up a backing track with the amp's speakers. "I guess it's a little funny to have Lana Del Rey be my example for the 'music of the future', given that her whole aesthetic is about, like, the 50s and 60s, but I guess that'd make her familiar for you, right? And it's not like she's making music that's actually like 60s music, since it's so influenced by pop and R&B. Anyways," The backing track Petra puts on has stripped drums and vocals, to accompany herself playing the guitar part. It's hard to pick out the vocals since they're turned down, but it does sound a lot like the song's literal first words are "My pussy tastes like Pepsi cola". Petra knows the words, but unlike when playing her other guitar, she doesn't sing herself. Instead she just stays uncharacteristically subdued and focused, looking down at the guitar to make sure she doesn't fuck up, silently moving her lips and slightly swaying with the music. She has to focus, since she's only been playing on an electric guitar for two months!
Ivy Carrow	When the Dame Commander sets to work, Ivy's posture turns alert and nearly reverent, watching Lilian's footwork and slices with the devotion of a dedicated student. "Your bladework is always even better in person," she says, hushed, during a pause between drills. "You could name yourself a master, and I can't think of many who'd even be able to argue otherwise." "Yeah? Like carnivorous plants? That's pretty sick..." "You'd think that, but no--at least, not all of them. Or even most of them. Many just...Aggressively crushed people, and it doesn't seem like they'd be worth the fertiilizer. We've had people working on what's going on, exactly--but it's a VERY dangerous world to work with. There's a real danger of it spreading to other universes, if we aren't careful. It'd just take a seed, hitched on someone's sock, that gets through quarantine." Her tone is deadly serious, for once. "It's a real nasty world. We took casualties, setting up connections there. And we've reach a kind of homeostasis...But there's a lot of unanswered questions." "Some of them will try to plant themselves inside people, grow, like a parasite. Some will hitch a ride, and find a place somewhere out of the way, and grow something dangerous." She takes another bite of pizza. Chew, chew, chew. "Some will just overgrow, slowly. Constantly." "From what we can tell, it used to be a pretty standard earth. But then, something...happened."
Regulus	''Would anyone-- like some?'' "We all have pizza!" Regulus says, her voice slightly higher pitched than normal, and the words coming out a little faster, like she's moving at 1.25 speed. ''Seven chainsaws can be aband if they want to.'' Regulus imagines a band of seven Awakened chainsaws and frowns uncertainly. Maybe if they had little arms like APPLe? "Pretty sure in this case she means chainsaws as in chainsaw massacre, love." Regulus says. Regulus does indeed not know the russian language and she is also desperately tryingh not to learn more about Ozhira. The more Regulus learns about Ozhira, the more she wants to throw up, so she is doing her level best to at least slow the process down. Though maybe she should just ... let it happen? Like purge it all out in one go and then move on with her life? She considers this but, like, not in front of Petra. She'd make fun of her. No way. She's gotta do this like from a distance and in a private Petra-proof booth. ''You shoudl know better than to ask about a woman's medicine, Regulus.'' "I...guess so." She sounds uncertain. "But let's avoid puking up blood today, eh?" She lowers her guitar to let Petra play because she doesn't actually know the song, bobbing her head along-- ''My pussy tastes like Pepsi cola''. "Dr. Pepper's better." REgulus says. "Wait--"
Lilian Rook	'Um. Well, even if it doesn't kill you it could still do damage so maybe take it easy...and uh... don't puke blood?' "Who do you think you're even talking to?" Lilian huffs. It seamlessly blends into the little exertion breaths between swings. "Would you like to take another look at my gunshot wounds just to be certain? I swear to god, none of you people but Vertin know about pushing yourself at all." she says. "I know what I'm doing." She has completely forgotten that this is about Luz and having a medic on hand and mentally confabulated in the idea she's being scolded for exercising. Which is basically completely normal for everyone and eerie to see her do. 'Wait what? Your old stuff would make you puke blood?' 'You should know better than to ask about a woman's medicine' Lilian, less easily influenced than before, would not currently fall for this if it weren't Petra. She would just get pissed off at Regulus for asking instead. This time she just says "Nosy aren't you?" instead. "Be thankful your biggest problem is how skinny your arms are." 'Those people really need more music in their lives.' "I'm trying to recall music that didn't involve human screams, and . . ." Nope, Lilian can only think of the pianist. Swing. 'She lived in a world where the vegetation had come alive, and devoured almost ALL human civilization...' 'Yeah? Like carnivorous plants? That's pretty sick...' "That sounds horrible and traumatic." Swing. 'Hey, I mean, seven chainsaws can be a band if they want to.' "Are you an anarchist or something?" Swing. It's a rhythm now. 'Your bladework is always even better in person,' 'My pussy tastes like Pepsi cola' Lilian's [incoherent coughing] disrupts that rhythm entirely. "Thanks--" she chokes out, coughing twice more and saying "I'm drunk." incomprehensibly. Given the situation, she apparently decides to give up on her reps for now for Completely Unrelated reasons, and take her floating slice of pizza. She leans sluttily on her sword, point down, while she eats it. "I am already teaching. Bouanich is even one of my students." Lilian adds, terribly neutral.
Lilian Rook	Unfortunately for probably everyone, at some distant time, in some future way that is invisible and incoceivable to everyone present now, Lilian Rook is not familiar with Lana Del Ray, and now she is, through Petra doing her very bestest to play an electric guitar in a cool and rakish way in the middle of nowhere on an end-of-the-world road trip. She even has an amp! Lilian zones out almost completely while eating, in that way that Petra knows to mean that she's thinking very hard about something one step removed, probably constructing an entire complicated opinion that she won't proactively share. "Is this the sort of thing they listen to at your college?" she says, during the bridge, and then bites into her slice again while forgetting that she's eating it. Around a half-forgotten bite of sicilian already in her mouth, Lilian glances over at Ozhira, remembers to chew, presses her fist to her lips to swallow, and then says, "That's unhygeinic." in a way that sounds far too bland to be about the whole meat monster thing; like she'd just warded away someone trying to feed her with a fork they'd just put in their mouth.
Petra Soroka	"I'm trying to recall music that didn't involve human screams, and . . ." "Yeah... it's such a fucking bleak place. There's decentralized Syndicates popping up to mimic the Pianist's music still, by, what fucking else, doing some xylophone shit on people's ribcages." Petra also killed and ate one of them, which is a thought she will neatly put aside in her brain so as to avoid getting either sick or very hungry. "Honestly, maybe they do need the power of rock. Maybe putting some Beatles album on a big speaker in the City would make everyone go 'oh my god we can make art out of something other than human viscera?' and then they'd just be normal after that." Later, after the conclusion of her (fairly short) song, Petra lets the guitar droop by the strap over her shoulders for just a moment, before gripping it again like a teddy bear. She's got a tiny bit of post-performance nervous energy, looking around and fiddling with the guitar to check for people's reactions. She's not unused to playing in front of people, but, like, Elites-- and more importantly Lilian-- are different! Partly because it's more vulnerable to play in front of them because they inherently have absolutely no appreciation for any kind of art, like trying to impress chimpanzees with magic tricks, but partly because despite being far cooler than any of these idiots, she has a lower reputation score with them than with her classmates. "Is this the sort of thing they listen to at your college?" "Oh, mhm. I mean, she's one of the most popular alt musicians out there in the early 20th century. My college's in the same local year as the Earth I was born in, so I was already familiar." She idly strums a chord to fill the gap between sentences, reverb still on. "Well, popular along specific demographics, I guess. Let's see... what else is the 'rock of the future'...." "How about...." Petra repositions to sit on top of her amp instead of on the ground, telepathically setting up her next backing track through the Silver rather than fiddling with her phone again. About halfway through, she starts getting conscious of how many songs she's playing talk about oral sex, but that's rock for you.
Regulus	''Be thankful your biggest problem is how skinny your arms are.'' "Okay, okay, if you say you're fine, you're fine." But she frowns again at the idea of The City's music. "Geeze. No wonder it's so buggered over there." Her experiences with The City do not really encourage her to get involved again, but something about how the music there is just so comically monstrous makes her feel like she HAS to do something. Ideally without turning into goop. Then she remembers that Petra is, like, a big shot there or something? She looks towards her. ''Honestly, maybe they do need teh power of rock. Maybe putting some Beatles album on a big speaker in the City...'' "That's a wonderful idea!" Regulus declares, hopping up to her feet. "I'm gonna introduce The City to some real music because without real music, it's screwed!" She removes her sunglasses in a smooth motion. SHe needs to bring out the big guns. She twists in her seat and tries putting on her wettest blobbiest eyes. "And you'll help me right, love? Since you're such a big shot over there?"
Lilian Rook	'Honestly, maybe they do need the power of rock. Maybe putting some Beatles album on a big speaker in the City would make everyone go 'oh my god we can make art out of something other than human viscera?' and then they'd just be normal after that.' Lilian frowns. She frowns a little at first, then deeper and deeper, until she makes a deeply disgusted huff, and says so begrudgingly that it means an entirely different thing, "God I hate that you might be right." She's thinking about Carmen again. 'Oh, mhm. I mean, she's one of the most popular alt musicians out there in the early 20th century. My college's in the same local year as the Earth I was born in, so I was already familiar.' "I see." says Lilian, buying time to finish off the last corner of her pizza slice. Cleaning off her fingers between her lips, one at a time, she drags out a verdict all the way until the last possible second, only to say "What's her name?" in the end; which means she's going to look it up. She starts frowning again by the second song though. But in like, a Different way. Only a little. The kind where she squints at Petra and turns her chin up. "My my, you're certainly not bad. You must've gotten lots of practice already." she says, leadingly, which would feel more threatening if she didn't start looking around for a cup she doesn't actually have and never did, and getting annoyed that she doesn't remember where she put it.
Petra Soroka	"And you'll help me right, love? Since you're such a big shot over there?" So this is the skill of a veteran pirate.... Petra hasn't paid attention to any other time where Regulus's sunglasses have been off, so when she does, it's like her entire face changes shape: to reveal, soggy pleading puppy eyes. Even Petra, with her cold hardened heart, is struck by it and hesitates. Not particularly because she's swayed by Regulus being cute or anything, but because she's genuinely staggered that a fully grown adult woman could think that this is a tactic that works, and the sheer audacity of doing it makes it so it almost does. "Uh-- look, okay, I sort of wasn't joking about that. But it's obviously more complicated than that." Petra rolls a Silver guitar pick that only just flattened itself into existence between her fingers and sighs. "We'll see. I think at least one of my co-conspirators would be down with something like that. I hate that that's actually sensible to do." "What's her name?" Petra perks up like this is equivalent to Lilian saying that she did a good job, imaginary tail wagging at her sad white girl musical interest spreading. "Lana Del Rey! I know a bunch of songs of hers, if you liked that I could try...." "My my, you're certainly not bad. You must've gotten lots of practice already." Petra fiddles around with cutting right to showing off with fragments of various Lana Del Rey songs, doing her own personal little jam by playing a solo with a vaguely droopy atmosphere. "I mean, it's not totally different from a regular guitar, and a regular guitar's not totally different from a uke. There's a lot of intricacies to electric guitars that people better than me know, but... I guess it didn't take me that long to catch up to 'competent' with it, at least."