2421/Gods, cookies and couches.

Gods, cookies and couches.
Date of Scene:	27 January 2017
Location:	Hana's Apartment
Synopsis:	Conversation with an uber-witch is never dull, but always terribly abstract.
Cast of Characters:	Naru Osaka, Hana Shiroi

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Naru Osaka has posed:
The apartment building is only a little out of Naru's way when she's out and about in her normal life. Enough that a visit is a deliberate choice, but not so much that it's a terribly onerous task. Naru has popped by a couple times already, finding no more signs of people there than when Hana was a grief seed. She's not lingered, accepting that for what it is and moving on to wherever she was off to in the first place.

Today is no different, really. Naru is on her way home, still with her satchel and school uniform, not really in a rush to get anywhere. Kyouko's at work, and she's got homework to catch up on, but the thrill of english grammar and sentance structure is just not terribly compelling. Instead she finds herself riding up an elevator, bending her head forward to stretch out that stubborn kink that comes with sitting a desk all damn day long. Expectations are low enough that nerves aren't even a factor.

Naru steps out of the elevator, walking just that little bit down the hall and, rather than using the key she has in her pocket, very politely knocks at the door.

Hana Shiroi has posed:
    The difference is probably notable almost at once. It might not be to a normal human who just happened to be wandering by- but Naru, despite her newness to the condition, is magical. She's more likely to be attuned to the subtle differences than a mundane. She will probably sense the soft cessation of normal reality, to be replaced by that vague, dreamlike sense of unreality as she proceeds down the hall towards the door.

    It's almost like she's stepped into one of the dreams she used to talk to Hana in; alternately, its sort of like taking just a little bit of drugs- not enough to impair reason, but enough that the world around you doesn't quite seem 'real', even though you know it is. This aura follows Hana around. For those who have experienced it, it is fairly easy to recognize.

    That would be the first clue. The second would be the door swinging open, apparently entirely on its own. Inside the apartment, the aura is worse. It feels like stepping into a semi-liquid- the world inside the apartment does not necessarily jive with the world outside of it. A different reality, even if very localized.

    Hana is not in the main room. But there is a sense, a glimpse of movement from the side room- the art studio.

Naru Osaka has posed:
Naru blinks as her reality gets just a faint bit hazy and the door opens without the benefit of a person. She takes just a moment, paused on the doorstep to recalibrate her perceptions, her thoughts, her sense of balance on more levels than just physical.

That moment to recalibrate serves her well as she moves into the ambient oozing that reality is doing within the apartment. Her steps are careful but not tentative, still evaluating the feelings and sense around her. Without even really thinking about it, she glances towards the red chair and beyond it, to where she left a painting and then her attention swings over to the studio.

Naru comes to pause in the doorway of the studio, not quite entering just yet, but equally having no illusions that Hana does not know she's there.

Hana Shiroi has posed:
    The painting that Naru had left beside the windows, on an easel, remains. It appears untouched, though there's no way that Hana, or anyone else, had been in the apartment and not seen it there.

    As she approaches the studio, that sense of movement resolves itself into a familiar short, white-clad figure. Hana is indeed there, looking much the same as she did within dreams. In fact, given the sense of different reality which oozes from her in a palpable way, it really isn't that different an experience, meeting her in the real world as opposed to in a dream.

    She appears to be regarding, or somehow inspecting the art she had left from her previous tenture. Canvasses have been moved, and she holds one of the smaller paintings in one hand as Naru pauses by the door, kaleidoscope eyes fixed on the image of a small white flower blooming in what appears to be an empty, abandoned lot. For a moment, there is silence.

    Then she speaks, without taking her eyes from the painting. "So we meet in person, Little Bird. I am mildly surprised. I would have thought your friends would caution you against coming here."

Naru Osaka has posed:
The consideration of the studio is conducted in silence, reacquainting herself with the paintings within and how they might shift and change in the current twists and tumbles that reality are taking all around them both. Naru looks at the painting that the witch holds, nodding ever so slightly at her recognition of it.
"Hello Hana." Naru replies after that silence is broken. "There was not a great deal of delight and enthusiasm when I mentioned I was hoping to visit." She acknowledges as her voice turns just ever so faintly amused. "I've been asked to get neither killed nor kidnapped as part of it." She doens't sound concerned with those requests, and she leaves off any other requests made upon the visit.

"I wasn't sure if you'd come back here or not." Naru comments as she continues to linger by the door.

Hana Shiroi has posed:
    The paintings themselves do not change- really, nothing in the apartment is changing from moment to moment. The feeling is more that of potential change, as if Reality, normally as firm as stone and mortar, has become a liquid- still, until one dips a finger in, at which point the ripples distort and change everything in the area. No one has dipped a finger in yet, but that doesn't mean that they won't.

    "Your friends care about you. That is something to be treasured, where it can be found." Hana comments, in the most neutral of tones, as if stating a fact which is true, but foreign to her. She finally turns her head, still holding the painting, to fix that multi-hued gaze on Naru in the doorway. "You have nothing to fear from me. At least, not directly, or unless provoked. But I have never had the sense that provoking me was among your intentions."

    She turns then, though still holding the painting, to face Naru. "I did not stay here long. A mere matter of weeks. But it is still the closest thing to a home that I had in this city. It is not ideal for me to spend all my time here, now. But that does not mean I would abandon it."

Naru Osaka has posed:
The fact that the paintings have not changed is only a minor detail in the reality of that they /could/ have changed, and indeed, might yet.

Naru nods her agreement. "My friends do care, and I treasure that. I would be dead a few times over without them, or in a state were death would be a mercy. I am glad and grateful to them." She seems to be in no rush to invade the space, staying where she is for the moment, even when Hana turns to examine her almost as she does the painting.

"I have no desire to poke at you." Naru shakes her head a little. "Our opinions upon reality will clash soon enough, there is no need to artificially hasten that simply for the sake of doing it." The statement is presented without malice, without anger or rancor, simply a thing that sits in the future.

"You left your brushes." Naru comments with a gesture of her hand. "If one is leaving forever, one doesn't leave their brushes behind." She gestures again, towards the piece that Hana holds. "Tell me of that one."

Hana Shiroi has posed:
    "Death, as a mercy." Hana says, almost seeming to muse upon the idea. "I find that a foreign concept. Death, I think, may be beyond me now. Even when I 'die', I remain- helpless, formless, but aware. There is no escape through that route. Not any longer. Can I even be destroyed? I do not know. I do not wish to find out."

    Her eyes, having wandered to one side, return to Naru a moment later. "Perhaps. Do you truly think you can stand against me, Little Bird?" Similarly, no malice or anger. A simple question. "I may be beyond death, but that does not apply to you. While I have a certain fondness for our conversations, you should know that I would not hesitate to kill you if I felt it were necessary. I genuinely hope it does not reach that point but.. I am, as of yet, not master of reality enough to rule out all possibilities I find unpleasant."

    At the comment on brushes, she simply shrugs. "And so I return."

    She glances to the painting in her hand. "It is fairly self-evident, I should think. I am, so far as I know, one of a kind. But saying it does not communicate it. So I painted it."

Naru Osaka has posed:
"I am reasonably confident in my mortality." Naru doesnt' seem unduly upset by the fact that she knows a lot of people who cannot say the same. It is what it is. "I cannot say that I am certain. There is so much that I previously considered impossible that I now consider to be a normal part of daily life, that it would be folly to say for certain, but I have no evidence to the contrary."

"I do not know." Naru answers just as simply on the topic of standing against the witch. "I am not so blindly optimisic to have illusions that you would not kill me if you felt it necessary. It is the nature of conflict on many levels. Not all, but many."

Naru smiles easily at the consideration of the painting. "Are we not all one of a kind?"

Hana Shiroi has posed:
    "That is wise." Hana agrees, with an inclination of her head. "Possibility, and whether something lies within that realm or does not, is not something any of us get to decide, nor is it something we can truly know. This world hides mysteries that even those who would think themselves wise have no knowledge. I owe my existence to such a thing- surely if the Incubators had thought once such as I, or for that matter, Homura Akemi, could arise from their system, they would have tried to prevent it."

    "Just so." She shrugs softly. "Take as solace the fact that even if I do kill you, it is not personal."

    Her eyes return to the painting as she considers Naru's response. "In some respects. In others there are reactions.. perceptions, instincts if you will, that are hardwired into beings of a similar sort. Show a view, an object, to two humans, and they are likely to give a similar response when asked what it is. It is simply the way they are designed. To be outside of that framework is at once frightening and liberating."

Naru Osaka has posed:
"The Incubators are a jealous lot, guarding their power and their system. It is not entirely surprising, few like to share." Naru takes a step into the room, nearer to the painting under consideration.

"Baseline reactions do not remove the differences." Naru speaks thoughtfully. "The devil is in the details. At their core, every house is the same, every person is the same, every painting is the same, every cookie is the same. But they are not. A peanut butter oatmeal cookie shares only bare resemblances to a kinako cookie. Humans are not so uniform in their thinking as you might imply."

Hana Shiroi has posed:
    "Ironically," Hana says, a faint note of amusement in her tone, if not in her expression, "The Incubators would claim that they are the most altruistic of all races. They have literally made it their purpose to preserve the Universe for the rest of us to live in, after all. One supposes it is only a happy coincidence that doing so saves their own skins, as well."

    "You speak of differences, and that is true," Hana says, unmoving as Naru draws nearer, like a sun being orbited by a comet. "But I speak of fundamentals. The two cookies are both cookies. Neither is a sofa. Two humans are still two humans. They are more alike, regardless of differences of apperance or opinion, than I am to either of them." A faint shrug of white-clad shoulders. "This is not overly distressing to me. But it is something which I think on a great deal."

Naru Osaka has posed:
"Ahh, the most altruistic of all." Naru flickers a smile. "The ones who do it for themselves. I have never met an Incubator. I do not think I am their type."

"You /could/ sit on a cookie." Naru opines thoughtfully. "It could function as a chesterfield, but it is not suited to that task." She nods. "Yes. The humans are more alike with each other than they are with you. You, in turn, are more alike with them than with our cookie-sofa." She holds up a hand. "I am not saying identical, but closer."

Hana Shiroi has posed:
    "You posess a different sort of magic, and therefore are beyond their concern. They could likely sense that before you were aware of it yourself. As suits their character, the Incubators pay little mind to those that they view as unhelpful to their cause." Hana's shrug is again, dismissive.

    A faint arch of one eyebrow. Hana finally moves to put the painting down, setting it carefully atop a stack of canvasses before rising again, her face half-turned towards Naru's. Her expression seems a thoughtful mien, but as with much about her, it is unclear if this is true or simply a matter of projection.

    "Degrees of similarity. You are correct, of course, in the broadest sense. But there remains a fundamental gap- in understanding, in priority. In sympathy. I cannot bridge it, nor in fact, do I have much desire to do so."

Naru Osaka has posed:
"My magic is my own." Naru comments. "I do not know others who work magic quite as I do in the specifics, and yes. It does make me irrelevant to their concerns."

"There is always a gap." Naru returns. "In understanding, in priority, in sympathy. That gap exists in humans. That gap exists in those of us who are generally more human than not. That gap exists in those who have left their humanity behind. That gap exists to various degrees, certainly, but all things exist in various degrees. To bridge it or not is a question all of us face, no matter where we sit upon the spectrum of humanity. No matter if that gap is a sliver or a chasm."

Hana Shiroi has posed:
    "Each person's magic is their own, the same as each person's mind, taste, values are their own." Hana tilts her head slightly, a fall of straight black hair tumbling over her shoulder. "Just because you do not know to which category your own belongs does not mean it does not belong to one. Perhaps one day you will find that answer- I do not know it."

    "You are quite correct." Hana agrees easily with Naru's assertion. She takes a few steps across the room, closer to Naru though still several feet away, her heeled boots clicking softly on the polished floor. "However, you must realize that some gaps cannot be bridged. You cannot build a span across the ocean, regardless of its convinience. You cannot build a bridge from the earth to the moon. If you wish to cross those gaps, you must find alternate methods."

    "I said earlier that possibility, or impossibility, is something which cannot be quantified, cannot be stated for certain. Perhaps I am wrong. I do not claim to be infallible. But I do not now, nor have I ever since becoming what I am, found an adequate bridge. Conflict, it seems, is my destiny. This does not distress me, though it does, perhaps, tire me."

Naru Osaka has posed:
"Never say never." Naru replies as she watches Hana approach and there's a quiet little smile. "I also do not see a convenient bridge over the ocean, or a ladder up into the stars. By the same token, however.." She gestures at Hana's own words. "You cannot see it. Perhaps I can. Perhaps that does not seem like an impossibility to me. In /my/ reality, that seems perfectly reasonable." She smiles a touch with an echoing shrug."

"It is tiring." Naru agrees after a moment. "Wearisome. To know, or at least suspect, that all paths will lead there eventually, it make it challenging not to simply take the direct route and save the trouble."

Hana Shiroi has posed:
    "As I said," Hana agrees, "Possibility is not a thing to be lightly dismissed. I, who speak so often about the mutability of reality, would surely be a hypocrite to make any blanket statements about what is possible. However," Her eyes turn to regard that painting, now laid amongst the others, "I also cannot deny the way it feels. The way I feel. To do so would be to deny myself, and that I am not in the habit of doing."

    Her eyes return to Naru. "Just because there is an inevitable destination does not make the journey worthless." She says, quietly. "There are things to be learned along the way. Even if we must end in conflict, one of us will survive. To that one, the lessons learned on the journey to that conflict may serve a purpose in the time beyond it- and thus, even the loser will retain some meaning, some agency, post-defeat. Through the actions of the victor, informed by the lessons they learned together."

Naru Osaka has posed:
"No. One cannot deny how it feels, and that, more than one's perception or manipulation of reality, is utterly personal." Naru follows Hana's gaze to the painting and she is thoughtful a moment. "And yet, I have found, that sometimes my feelings lie to me. Sometimes they tell me something that I know is not a fact. That I can objectively look around me, even with a mutable reality and say I am feeling this right now, but /it/ is the mutable thing, and I change the feeling to fit the reality that I wish to live in."

"If I thought the journey was worthless, I would not be here right now." Naru notes. "I would accept that we are likely to end in conflict and wait for that day to come, or push for that day to come sooner." There is a faint hint of a smile. "I am no Prince. I am merely an artist, but the most fascinating things are found in pausing to look at what others ignore in their hurry."

Hana Shiroi has posed:
    "Your feelings do not lie, just because they do not align with reality." Hana says, as unshifting as ever in the center of the room- she moves very little while speaking, giving the impression of a sculpture or perhaps an animatronic, her eyes and lips the only consistent movement. "But it is important nonethless to recognize that distinction. Failure to recognize the world as it is, simply because you wish it were some other way, will only lead to misery. But that does not mean your feelings are a lie."

    "Such is the value of artists." Hana then agrees, to Naru's latter statement. "There is beauty in much of the world, no matter how flawed it is. I recognize this, even as I seek to change so much. Just because something is unsuitable, or even bad, does not mean it is worthless. People often forget that." She turns, fluid, paces to a window to look out over the city.

    "And yet, there is simply not enough time. Things come and go before I have a chance to notice and study them. This is also something we must accept, I am afraid."

Naru Osaka has posed:
"There we disagree. Feelings can lie." Naru shakes her head, quite certain on that point. As certain as Hana is that they cannot, it seems. "Feelings can whisper to you in insidious ways, and it is relevant in how you choose which you let into your reality. They lie, and they are wrong."

"Often, it is the flaw that makes the beauty." Naru moves closer yet, to look out over the cityscape below. A window, a good solid floor, no matter how fluid reality might be at the moment, they make the height bearable and permit /that/ feeling to simply lie fallow and let Naru enjoy the view. "Unending perfection becomes boring very quickly. The flaws, the quirks, that which is 'bad' are often the most fascinating parts." She smiles a touch. "When one is comfortable with their mortality, one simply accepts that there will never be enough time."

Hana Shiroi has posed:
    "Perhaps." Hana glances to the side at Naru as the girl comes up to stand beside her at the window. She is, it seems, nearly of a height with Naru- certainly not much taller, even in her heeled boots. "As I said.. not everyone's reality is the same. Are you correct in your assertation? I don't know. But you certainly seem to believe it. Perhaps that is all that matters."

    She glances out the window again. "Yes. Trust me, I have no illusions about erasing flaw. My campaign is to create a world in which I will be safe- in which I can escape the persecution which has dogged me since my earliest memories. But there is no such thing as a perfect world. In order to create such a world, one would have to be perfect themselves, or omniscient, able to hunt down and eradicate each of the billion failings that exist in reality. I am neither of these things. As I told your prince.. I am not a god."

    "However.. perhaps I am more like a god than like a cookie." A side-glance. Was that a joke?

Naru Osaka has posed:
"Still not a couch." Naru quips in return, with a twist of a smile playing at her expression.

"There are a number of belief systems that say that everyone is a god, or at the very least hold a spark of the divine within them." Naru's words are thoughtful as she looks out over the city. "I do not think that theologists quite considered this angle of debate when they put forth that theory. There is no such thing as a perfect world. There is even, to my mind, even no such thing as one that is utterly safe."

Hana Shiroi has posed:
    "Perhaps not. But there is certainly more safe and less safe." Hana turns suddenly, her long dark hair whirling behind her in a minor halo as she strides across the room. "Unfortunately, Little Bird, in order to maintain that safety, I have work I must be about."

    She pauses in the doorway, looking back over her shoulder, the colors in her eyes constantly swirling. "This place remains open to you. I promise it is safe- or as safe as it can be, anyway. I will do you no harm if you return, and Madison will not, either. She doesn't care, in any event."

    And then she turns and walks through the door. Moments later, the feeling of strange, liquid reality begins to ebb- moving around her like a bubble. Soon enough, the room Naru stands in feels as solid as any other.

Naru Osaka has posed:
Naru turns her head to follow Hana's movement across the room and she watches the woman as she pauses. "Thank you. I appreciate that." She doesnt' comment on if she will take her up on the offer or not, but the invitation is acknowledged. "Take care, Hana." Naru replies simply enough.

As the odd sensation receeds and leaves Naru with that familiar sense of reality, she turns again to look out over the city. To watch the movement so far below, people hurrying here and there, obvlivious to those who watch them and watch over them.

It is many long moments that pass in silence before Naru turns to leave as well, digging her phone out when she comes to the hallway, to reply to messages waiting for her.