Scene #673: A New Task

Owner	Pose
Fate Testarossa	The incident in the park with the kitten... Did not go as planned. Somehow, Fate had lost a Jewel Seed to some no name girl from a backwater planet who had only picked up magic in the last few months. Compared to Fate, a well oiled engine and machine of magical and tactical efficiency, that girl should not have been able to win. That girl should not have made off with the Jewel Seed. But that's what happened. By all rights that Jewel Seed should be in Fate's possession, and she should be giving it to her mother right now, but... Here she is, making her way through Obsidian Tower... Empty handed. She's left Arf behind, which is probably for the best as she makes her way through the offices and labs and stops at one certain one in particular... Takes a breath... And raises her hand to knock...
Macaron	The truly terrifying part of all that? Was that... Precia hadn't summoned Fate. It had been days since her unpardonable failure... And she hadn't been called. No demands for the jewel seed. When Fate knocked on the door... there was no answer. And when she poked her head in? The room... had a scent about it. Not of person. But of... something else. Like old paper. It wouldn't take long to find the source. Newspaper articles, old reports. And some paperwork with 'Tomoe LifeScience' on them. Precia was sitting in a chair and, at first, she almost seemed dead. But a quick look would reveal she had fallen asleep at the chair, her coffee down to the dregs and long cold. Her meal, a sandwich, only half eaten. A report of some kind having fallen onto the table from her hand. It seemed she had overworked herself a bit. Her monitor had automatically locked and her device was even in its standby mode.
Fate Testarossa	Fate had half expected to be bidden enter before she even got half way into knocking. But no, that's not what happens huh... The lack of answer is met with a hesitant pause. Perhaps her mother isn't in, she thinks to herself. Or perhaps, as usual, she's so buried deep in work that she didn't hear... The door softly creaks open and Fate peeks her head in, vivid scarlet eyes searching the office before she finds who she's looking for... Fast asleep in her chair. "Ah..." The girl breathes softly; not a sound of relief but rather one of slight disappointment as she slips inside and quietly shuts the door after her. She knew that once Precia settled into a project it would be a long haul, and that she could go for days if not weeks between being summoned by her mother. It was actually something of a surprise she hadn't been summoned for her failure in the park. Nevertheless, Fate, being ever the dutiful girl that she is, simply tugs the cloak from her Barrier Jacket and gently drapes it over the sleeping woman like a blanket, before she scootches down to pick up the fallen report and set it neatly on the desk. Leaving it at that, she back up a pace or two, before turning to quietly leave. But knowing her luck, she probably won't make it to the door without her mother stirring.
Macaron	Precia's eyes opened after Fate made it a single step away... and... "Alicia?" she asked, her voice soft, longing. Was it... Then it finally clicked. That wasn't Alicia. It was the reject. The failure. Her eyes narrowed and she sat up, the cloak falling to her lap... She looked down at it, before slowly picking it up. Her fist clenching and... "I take it you have a reason for disturbing me?" Precia asked, her tone cold and angry. When Fate turned, the bundled up cloak was thrown in her face. Useless child. She... Then she glanced back towards the paper, only half listening to whatever innane drivel came from Fate's mouth. "I see," she muttered, no matter what it was. She wasn't listening anyway, so it hardly mattered. "Fate. You've been around that boy, Aggrogara, correct?" she asked. Butchering his name.
Fate Testarossa	Fate hears her mother's voice. ... But she doesn't quite catch the name the woman utters, and That's probably for the best as Fate turns, barely in time to catch her cloak. Briefly, a disappointed look flutters across the small blonde's face. But she swallows it down quickly and puts on her business face. "... I came to check on you, mother." She says softly, assuming the best and believing her mother to be listening to her. But then comes the question. One that brings a slightly bewildered look to the child's face as she blinks once. "A-... Agera? Yes, mother?" She replies, tone soft and curious.
Macaron	Precia turned a cold, angry glare towards her. "Did I stutter?" she asked. "The one who failed to bring me the jewel seed immediately upon procuring it. No doubt he caused nothing but trouble in procuring the second as well," Precia said, picking up the report. "No matter, so long as it has been retrieved, things can proceed as planned. For now, I have another task for you. He is a part of Tomoe LifeSciences, correct? There was an incident in his lab a few years ago, killing Keiko Tomoe and nearly killing his daughter. He, however, escaped unscathed. I want you to gather any information you can about what he was working on then. By any means necessary. Without alerting another in that organization what you are looking for..." Pause. Pause... glancing to her... "Can you do that for your mother?" she asked in an... almost... affectionate tone. Almost.
Fate Testarossa	Fate opts to not... Comment on Takashi's aid in the second Jewel Seed incident. She opts to not say a lot in regards to that, pursing her lips together into a thin line. "No, mother." Precia didn't stutter, Fate heard her loud and clear, and she falls silent to listen to her new task. "Ah..." This... This puts Fate in an awkward position; put in a rock and a hard place between the wishes of her mother and the loyalty to her... Allies and colleagues. But. Fate is not one to say no to her mother. Even if the situation is dire or puts her in a tough place... "... Yes, mother. I can do that." She says, eventually, after a beat's hesitation.
Macaron	Precia wasn't even looking at her now, her focus instead on the report again. "Good. Do this for me and you'd actually do something right for once." She motioned behind her, to where the first jewel seed was in a case. "Place the second jewel seed with that and then go. I have a lot of work to do and..." She paused, lifting up her mug. "And get me another cup of coffee on your way out." In the eyes of a mother, their daughter was perfect, a loyal, obedient subject to be nurtured and protected. And their imitators were nothing more than disposable pawns, to be dismissed as warranted.
Fate Testarossa	Fate has her orders. Even in spite of the situation they put her in, she will follow them to her utmost capability. But then Precia says to place the second Jewel Seed with the first. This earns another beat of hesitation. "I... Don't have the next Jewel Seed." Fate admits, tone soft and strangled. How she hates to disappoint her mother; especially when she knows what disappointment can lead to. But she cannot lie about it to Precia, either. Lacing her fingers together, Fate waits for her mother's verdict in silence. After all. Mother is God in the eyes of a child. "I'll... Be back with your coffee." She does reply to the next order, almost as quiet as a mouse.
Macaron	Precia went still. Slowly, she lowered the report... Her gaze turned to Fate... And then, slowly, she got to her feet. She paused for a moment, coughing. Then walked towards her. Slowly. As she went, she grabbed her device. The whip extending. Fate could likely feel the suppressing force of what was to come next. Soon, she stood in front of Fate, reaching out with the whip to push on the bottom of her chin. To make her look up. Her eyes narrowed, burning with... no. Disappointment was too soft a word. Hate. Contempt. "You... failed... to get the jewel seed?" Precia asked. "Must you disappoint me at every turn? Do you feel such disregard for me, the one who gave you life, that THIS is the thanks I get?" she asked. Then a hand pulled back... But she paused. Then... "Find out what I want to know. Find out what happened then... and this failure will be meaningless." Useless, disposable imitation. She should have tossed her aside from the beginning... alas. Perhaps she had some use. "Now go." She pulled the whip back, no strikes this time.