#tarashima

   Yusaku had been warned against progressing this little deal farther. Ai and Kusanagi was quick to remind Yusaku of the sins that Spectre had struck out against them and their faction as well as how eccentric he was outside of all that. Takeru and Flame meanwhile had no opinions between the two of them because he had never met the guy - though, Flame was willing to give Spectre a chance based on the fact that it seemed likely that Yusaku’s intuition was correct and that Spectre was the originator that Earth belonged to - but reviewing the footage, he and Takeru were soon to change their minds. Any stance of neutrality between the two of them was soon revoked resoundingly due to disgust over how Spectre had dishonourably duelled with Playmaker and Blue Angel.

   Still, Yusaku marched forward. He sent his message and he received a reply in swift, due time. Of course, there were a few corollaries attached to it but he felt fine enough to obey. For example, he was to come alone and without his Ignis; they were to meet on Spectre’s territory or not at all, and so on and so forth. Yusaku thought it fair enough so, at the arranged time, he logged into the VRAINS from his own house. After all, there were to be no peeping toms and the like either from his side of the faction.

   When Playmaker emerged on the other side, he was surprised by his surroundings. He thought that he might finally get to the see inside of the very mystified Knights of Hanoi headquarters, but he doubted that such a place would use such verdant architecture as a hideout. Spectre had summoned him to some sort of private garden or greenhouse. Glass glittered overhead; just beneath a synthetic sun. Vines crawled throughout the space - and it was a very large space - and all sorts of plants flowered and grew inside of it. Some of these plants were fictitious, others Playmaker could identify as real. All of them carried a mix of scents and the idea that they were not likely harmless.

   Playmaker wandered through said garden, unsettled, and arrived. Spectre had already gone and ahead and taken the liberty of beginning their tea party without him. On a delicate, pale blue table, Spectre had all sorts of treats piled high. Tiny sandwiches, slices of cake, other little delectable things: none of it edible thanks to the fact that they were not real. Only looked at such. 

   “I meant it as a joke. A farce...” Playmaker said, he drew near and his fingers trailed along the back of the chair which was intended for him. It was a very fanciful object to match all the other fanciful things present here with him and Spectre.

   “I had a feeling.” Spectre replied and he picked up his teacup. He blew over it, where steam drew forth, and then put it to his lips. He pretended to drink then, returned the cup to his saucer in a very long and drawn-out game of play pretend. “However, unfortunately, I quite enjoy the concept of high tea so I am touched that you know me well enough to intuit such things about my personality.”

   Playmaker sat down. “Very well then.”

   He felt out of place in his cat-suit. Spectre, in his astute and rather refined jacket and trousers, looked to be quite in this element. He was practically haloed by all the greenery around him - around them both - but Playmaker was keen to remind himself that beneath the calm and serenity Spectre presented, there was a lot of rage.

   “So, to what do I owe the pleasure of this meeting?” Spectre asked.

   “I encountered your Ignis.” Playmaker said. “He seems... nice, all things considered.”

   “Is that all...?” Spectre’s tone of voice was dull; his left hand made a sweeping gesture and his face looked very bored.

   “You don’t care?” Playmaker inquired.

   “Well, it’s not that I don’t care. I am a little bit interested but that’s a Pandora’s Box which is better off untouched. Whatever happens, happens; it’s none of my concern.” Spectre said.

   “That’s very callous of you to say.” Playmaker said. “He reminds me a lot of you. He’s very loving.”

   Spectre coughed and hacked. “Loving?” He was incredulous.

   “You love your Mother, don’t you?” Playmaker very awkwardly defended himself. “Well, he loves his... lover.” Playmaker cringed at his own words. “And he would do anything to protect said lover; just like you would do anything to protect your Mother. Your duelling styles revolve around the same core. Ergo, he reminds me of you and your scant better qualities.” 

   Spectre guffawed some more. “What is the point of this trite conversation?”

   “I want to recruit you.” Playmaker said, very plainly and he thought that maybe indulging the game would help. So, he pinched the handle of his teacup and he too, pretended to drink some tea. For a liquid, it was very much made up of nothing.

   “You want to headhunt me from the Knights of Hanoi?” Spectre was greatly amused by the self-perceived hilarity of the situation.

   “Yes. I do.” Playmaker seriously replied. “I want to gather the six victims of the Lost Incident. Together, we can stand strong against this threat of Bohman. Together, we can rescue Jin. I haven’t an idea of where to start, I was lucky to encounter Soulburner. And you’re the only other name and face I have so, I figured I would start by contacting you. As for the other two victims, I haven’t got a lead on either of them yet.”

   “Hm, well, you are barking up the wrong tree with me. Not even a cute little tea party could tempt me.” Spectre said and he petulantly knocked over the teapot in the middle of the tea.

   The tea went everywhere. It soaked the decorative, white cloth splayed across the table. Playmaker merely watched the amber liquid stream. He smelt roses distinctly as of right now. His expression turned grim.

   “Very well then.” Playmaker said. “I suppose this concludes our meeting then. Unless you wish to throw me a bone. Perhaps the Knights of Hanoi have data relating to the other two Incident Victims unaccounted for?”

   Spectre hummed. “It would be troublesome for Lord Revolver for you to expand your ranks using those two... But...”

   “But there might be some way of tempting you?” Playmaker piped up, more hopeful than he wanted to be.

   “Alas, I’m afraid not.” Spectre said but there was a deviant glint in his eyes. “But, I am willing to punish you for the insolence of questioning my loyalty.”

   Before Playmaker could protest that he meant no offence, Spectre snapped his fingers. Suddenly, Playmaker couldn’t move. All he could do was watched as Spectre continued to play his games in this place. The vines around them lurched and heaved, slowly inched forward and Playmaker was captured.

   Spectre got up and elegantly sauntered forth as Playmaker was subject to his thick, purple vines - roots? - which were at his disposal. He grinned maliciously as they wormed across Playmaker’s body. He put his hand atop his forehead and began to laugh. It was cruel, pith laugh which grated on Playmaker’s nerves. He struggled slightly but he could tell it was useless. He was in a very tight and quite possibly very maternal embrace right now; his face was going red. Especially as Spectre so lovingly eyed him over and over and over, very meticulously detailing exactly how he looked at his mercy.

   “Spectre.” Playmaker growled. “Unbind me, right this instance.”

   “Later, dearest, later... Don’t worry, I’ll be kind. I’ll let your allies know that you're in a teensy bit of danger. However, for now, all I’ll do is have you sit in your naughty corner so you can postulate on your insolence.” Spectre said once he had finished his maniacal laughter. “But for now, I must bid thee farewell, but I truly did enjoy our little tea party. Though, you may want to brush up on your etiquette.”