Scene #559: A Reasonable Argument

Owner	Pose
Rashmi Terios	Hospitals are boring. At least, they are if you're reasonably certain of making a full recovery, purely on the strength of native magical ability, and a bit of assistance in purifying injuries. While the smuggled-in Turkish Delight wasn't quite as potent as Setsuna claimed, they did have the effect of lifting her spirits considerably, scouring the last lingering traces of dark energy from her burns, and magically topping her up. If Rashmi had a Device at the moment, it's quite likely she'd be casting healing spell after healing spell to prod the process along! Sadly, she doesn't, and is forced to contend with the boringness of hospitals a bit longer. Luckily, she was given gifts of entertainment from three separate people, and thus is spoilt for choice. Currently she's half-dozing, an extremely high-end laptop on a swivel tray doggedly playing episodes of Willow for the fifth re-binge since she landed in this ward. When you know a thing by heart, familiarity breeds security, and security breeds sleepiness. It's probably bedtime anyway, or close to it, for the only light in the room comes from the screen itself, casting a pallor over the dark-skinned redhead's features.
Catra	Hanging around in a hospital for long periods of time just sucks no matter how you look at it. Aside from whatever issues you've got yoruself, which no doubt suck on their own, you're also surrounded by people in varying states of misery who are all either trying to recover or die as pleasantly as possible. Sure is nice to have a visitor or two from time to time, though, but it's generally expected that they come in through the door. The sound of someone scrabbling at the window from outside might seem a bit odd. Maybe Rashmi is dreaming? Sure, the nurse left the window open just a crack, but that can't possibly be someone reaching in from outside to... yes... yes it is, there's a hand coming in from outside, pulling the window all the way open. "Well, that was easier than I thought it'd be," comments the tan-skinned, stripey feline person who climbs in through the now open window, landing on her feet and crouching just inside. She's got a long duffel of sorts slung over one shoulder, that she holds on to a bit protectively as she straightens up. "Oh, hey. You awake?" She meanders over, and taps the spacebar on the laptop so it'll pause the video. "So... burn ward is on this floor, right? Did I make it to the right place?" She comes close enough, that Rashmi might at least see the mismatched nature of her eyes, reflecting the light from the laptop. "I guess... you do look a little, y'know, crispy."
Rashmi Terios	Rashmi gasps quietly the moment Catra speaks up, eyes wide and reflecting the light from the screen as they orient on her new 'visitor.' Drawing back as Catra advances, she looks from the window to the catgirl and back again, absently touching the bandaged pads on her cheek. "...This is the seventh floor," are the first words to come out of her mouth. Is Rashmi dreaming? Jury's still out on that, though if she is why would she be dreaming about Adora's girlfriend?
Catra	Catra unh-hunhs, "Well I worked that much out on my own," she points out. "I just counted the windows while I was climbing up the outside of the building." She holds up one hand, "One, two, three, four..." she demonstrates, tapping a fingertip with each number. "Except I didn't use my hands, see, I was busy climbing." The feline looks down at Rashmi, pursing her lips. "Do I know you? Uhm... hmm, no, don't think I do. You're probably wondering why you're staring up at a catgirl, who just climbed in your window. Honestly, don't worry about it, you're just having a bad dream. Go back to sleep." The feline steps back, and unslings the bag off her shoulder. "Oh, I should ask, how's your recovery going? You look like you're in rough shape, are you like, about to die or anything? 'Cause that'd be really convenient." She unzips the length of the bag and then drops it to the floor, and stands there holding a rifle with a bit of a purple glow about it, which she fiddle with for a moment; adjusting the scope, turning off the safety, that kind of thing. "I gotta test this on someone, see," she explains. "So I could make your day a whole lot easier. ...And I will if you make a lot of noise, just so we're clear. Don't scream."
Rashmi Terios	And then a gun comes out. And for a moment, Rashmi just stares. There is a lot that the human mind is capable of processing, and the magical mind able to grasp even more outre concepts. A catgirl climbing into a seventh-floor hospital window in search of sick people to shoot? --segfault-- "...Why?" Is what she manages, when she can kickstart her brain into working. No Device no powers words are the only weapon but lives are at stake so how good can you talk, Rashmi.
Catra	Well if a single word is all she can croak out, maybe she is close enough to dieing for this to be the right target? Catra lingeres for a moment, resting the rifle on one shoulder as she wanders to the foot of Rashmi's bed. It looks a little big for her; probably designed for someone a full foot taller than her five foot two, but it doesn't seem to be a problem for her. "Well I gotta test this thing, see," she explains, patting the rifle. "It's magic. You hit someone who's like, I dunno, 'good', and a crystal comes out that's super valuable. And then I guess they die afterwards, like the crystal was their soul or something. I dunno, I don't care." Catra shifts the rifle back to both hands and looks down at it. "I tried it once, wound up letting a former friend save the person, but that meant I went back with a spent rifle and no crystal, so I gotta try again. And hey, there's people here who are gonna die anyway, so nobody'll miss 'em."
Rashmi Terios	"So... Okay hang on I need to make sure I understand," Rashmi says, her brain going from standing start to high gear. "You climbed into a hospital. To test a gun. That shoots out people's souls. And it kills them." For a moment she starts to reach for the lamp's switch, but seems to think better about it and just... tips the screen back enough to illuminate more of the room. "And you came into a hospital for this?"
Catra	Catra stares at Rashmi, like she's just explained two plus two to a five year old who decided to come up with just three as an answer. "Uhh, yeah, that's what I just said," she replies. "Find someone here who's almost dead, help them get the rest of the way, go home with crystal. Everybody wins!" Catra pauses, and shrugs, "Okay, well, almost everyone. But what do you want me to do? Go to the park and shoot some kid who's running around, having a great time? I mean, I could but this seems cleaner if you ask me."
Rashmi Terios	"...You could not shoot people?" Rashmi says, almost managing to completely mirror Catra's tone. "Even putting aside the fact you won't even know who's 'good' and who isn't... Just... Why is shooting people the only constant here?"
Catra	"Because it's what I've gotta do," Catra replies. "I think they plan on using these things to fight all the..." she trails off, "Sparkle Skirts they called 'em, on this planet. I usually just call 'em Princesses, it's the term I'm familiar with. But you need to test them first I guess. Catra shrugs. "Look, I'm the villain, okay? I know that. I do bad things and I hurt people. Sometimes real bad. But it's just the way things are." Catra meanders up closer, until she's resting her thighs against the bottom of the bed. "Why do you care so much, anyway? It's not like I'm going to shoot you. ...Unless you think maybe you've heard to much? I have said quite a bit."
Rashmi Terios	"...Frankly? Because in an ideal world nobody would get shot in a hospital by any kind of gun. That's like one of the worst possible things I can think of to do with a gun!" And now Rashmi is waving her arms in the air as she declaims, caring little for the pull of sudden movement on burned-and-still-healing skin. "People here are helpless, and are you just gonna go from room to room with a gun asking people if they're okay to die? Because if so, congratulations! You're a more horrible villain than 80-- ... ...... 65% of anime ever made has!" Arms fall back to the bed, as Rashmi catches her breath. "Just... why do you have to be the villain? Why do you?"
Catra	"Because I AM and I DO, alright?!" Catra snaps back. "You sound like Adora! She's always whining about what's right and wrong and what we have to do and what we absolutely can't do and all that crap all the time! I didn't come here for a lecture I came here to put someone out of their misery and get a stupid crystal so I can stop carrying this thing around," she holds up the rifle, "And get on with something more important. And unless I shoot you I don't see why you care so much. Why do you care? It's not like it's your problem!" Catra's eyes narrow to slits during her outburst of anger; and it might seem terrifying, from a person who's literally holding a gun and proposing to off someone with it, but at the same time she hasn't gone to go and do that yet. You'd think she would have by now, rather than having a chat about it, even an unpleasant one.
Rashmi Terios	'...so I can stop carrying this thing around.' She doesn't want to hold it anymore. She doesn't want to use it, but she feels she has to. "Look," Rashmi says gently, holding her palms up to show she means no harm -- as if the whole being in a hospital bed doesn't say that loud enough -- and bypassing the 'Adora' thing quickly. "I care because it's just how I was brought up, is all. People don't deserve to be killed... But most people don't deserve to be the one that kills people. Especially if they don't really want to." The gears in her brain tick frantically, and she raises a finger. "...What if it broke?"
Catra	"Look, rifles just aren't my style, okay? I said I'd test it so I could get in good with people, it doesn't mean I want to carry it around all the time." What if it broke. What if. What if it broke. Catra holds the thing in her hands, looking down on it. Remembering the look on the face of Aoki Saori after she'd shot her. Not a look she ever wants to see again, not even being the villain that she is. Because she is a villain. It's not like she wants to be the hero, that's... that's just for other people. Not for her. And she's fine with that. Right? "No," she says at last. "Then I just look like an idiot. Go out to test a rifle, come back with a broken one? How dumb is that?!"
Rashmi Terios	"You're testing it, right?" Rashmi says, careful to not sound too insistent. This has to be done carefully, and above all, Rashmi cannot trick her into making this decision. "That means it's not ready to make for a lot of people. This is when it's supposed to break. All that means is 'Gotta design it so it's tougher for real,' right?" Rashmi shrugs, shaking her head. "All I know is... if I was in your place? I'd rather it broke than have to kill someone. But... That's me."
Catra	Catra ughs, and shakes her head, "It's not going to break that easily, and I'm not an idiot," she snaps, "If I just come back with a perfectly fine rifle and say it's broken, I look like a moron, and if I actually break it I look like an even bigger moron. It's bad enough I tried it once and didn't come back with a crystal!" The feline stands there, plainly at war with herself. She doesn't actually want to shoot someone's soul out of their body, that's a bit extreme even for Catra, the big bad villain. But she doesn't want -- can't -- risk losing her place in the power structure, which has only just started to approach being something other than tenuous. "Not unless I get in a big fight," she mutters, probably not even meaning it to be out loud.
Rashmi Terios	This is not a time to help things along, for many reasons. So Rashmi lets Catra work out the logistics herself, absently smoothing her sheets and keeping her panicked flailing all on the inside. Glasses are great at hiding what's going on behind one's eyes.
Catra	Catra considers her options. Visibly. The gears turning are almost visible in the way they do so. It's not really about doing what's right or wrong, it's about what results in the greatest benefit for Catra, but with the added acknowledgement that not feeling terrible about shooting someone's soul out of their body (which feels somehow worse than just killing someone) is actually, also, a benefit. She should never have volunteered to test this thing. But she did, and she needs the connection with the person who made it, so she still has to test it somehow. "I need to think," she pronounces.
Rashmi Terios	"I can be quiet," Rashmi squeaks out, closing her mouth extra hard to allow Catra the ability to ponder this weighty decision without dealing with sound. Honestly it would be so much more preferable if Catra chose to ponder this problem on some rooftop or something, where she can be anywhere but in a hospital with a gun. But... one does not prod people with guns into acting hastily. ...And now Rashmi needs to use the bathroom. Joy of joys, a double endurance test.
Catra	Catra is not in the habit of making things easier for other people. She meanders around the bed, and sits down on the side of it, right by Rashmi's legs. She sits facing away, looking out the window she'd come in through, staring at the stary sky. "Your world has stars," she muses, totally off topic. "Mine didn't. No stars at all, just black sky at night." The feline's tail curls around her, as she keeps studying the rifle in her hands. A minute goes by; then two. Three. She's approaching the four minute mark, when she stands up. "Okay fine, I won't terminate a hospital patient. But I'm not just going to 'oops it broke' the rifle either." She stands, nudging her foot under the bag she brought and kicking it up into the air so she can catch it. "So if you know anyone who's good in a fight," she says, glancing over her shoulder as she tucks the rifle away and zips it up, "Tell them to come looking. But come prepared, because I'm not going to lose. They want to break this rifle they're going to have to break me first, and if they haven't got what it takes I'll put them in a hospital bed right beside you."
Rashmi Terios	"...No stars at all?" The very idea of this fascinates Rashmi, a literal alien world. "Does it have a moon?" These are questions she physically could not stop herself from asking, no matter how much she would want to try to. But then Catra issues her challenge, and Rashmi simply nods. "Okay," she says... and while Catra would probably be looking for some kind of judgment or righteousness in Rashmi's voice... It just wasn't there. "That sounds perfectly fair. If people need to stop you, they have to want it more."
Catra	"Twelve moons," Catra replies. She shoulders the bag with the rifle in it, and moves almost silently back to the window. She finally gets around to wrinkling her nose, and making a face as she goes. "...Smells awful in here," she adds. Standing by the window, she fishes out her earbuds, putting them in one ear and the other, before thumbing on her music; and the sound of Marilyn Manson's singing comes through, loud enough for Rashmi to hear. Loud enough to be very obnoxious. And I don't want you and I don't need you Don't bother to resist, or I'll beat you Catra looks over her shoulder, "Call people. Tell anyone who knows Adora to tell her she better get some friends and come beat me or I'll use this rifle on someone innocent again. She'll know what that means." It's not your fault that you're always wrong The weak ones are there to justify the strong Catra climbs out the window; she's even nice enough to pull it shut again, followed by the sound of claws... scratching through concrete, it seems like she's decending the building by just hanging on and letting gravity do the work. No doubt someone will be wondering why it looks like a tiger did a number on the outside of the hospital all the way up to floor 7 by morning. But that's really not Catra's problem.
Rashmi Terios	And until the window shuts and Catra's silhouette flashes away from view, Rashmi is sitting, motionless, forgetting even to breathe. But once out of earshot, sheets go flying in a flurry of motion as the redhead flails her way out of the bed-turned-recliner in a mad dash for the bathroom-- --that is briefly aborted as she lunges for her phone-- --and the dash resumes, the messaging app scrambled for. Oh, this is gonna be a long night of elevated heart rate...