"It isn't?" They deflate again. "Oh. I suppose it's not."

(This person isn't literally the most emotionally unstable one here but it's a tough competition and Tahir feels like that in itself is very impressive.)

"No, it's not. Sorry. I can, uh. At least set you up comfortably in here? And try to verify where you came from? Is there really nothing at all you remember?" She is not going to offer making this person a body, not without verifying that they're, you know, actually a castoff instead of sire-related bullshit.

"I... I can try to remember. There's, um... ...I don't suppose you have a map of places that exist? That might jog my memory—oh, but then I could just be making it all up, hmm. This is a tough problem. Let me think."

"I don't mind giving you a map," shrugs Vetmera, who has actually managed to see one between the margins of the narration. A local one, granted, but still a map. "It's not a map of a particularly large area, mind, just of Sagus Cliffs and the surrounding areas, but..." Map! It's a little fuzzy, because it's being made by her memory, but, uh. ... It's as accurate as she can verify. "It would at least give me somewhere to look to verify your existence outside of here, you know?"

"Oh. Thank you. Sagus Cliffs, that name doesn't really ring a bell, but..." They pause and frown thoughtfully at the map. "No, I do. I... do I have a way to, um. Draw? Or, or alter the map in any way?"

Sure, have a pen.

They take it and immediately start scribbling on the map like suddenly possessed by the muse of mapmaking, adding detail and corrections all over everywhere and... making the map more accurate. 

Eventually they're done and, when they stop, they give off a the sense that they're kind of confused and alarmed by what just happened. "Um. I think I. Remembered something?" they say, looking at the strange impressionistic version of a pen that's what's become of the pen Vetmera have them. "I think I lived here. Live here? Your map seemed wrong but maybe it's mine that's outdated..."

"It's the memory of a map, more than an actual proper copy of a map. I wouldn't be surprised if it were wrong, I haven't systematically committed any maps to memory yet." She makes a copy of the one they've made changes to, and peers at it. "Hm. I can probably work with this. Any other ideas?"

"Oh, um... No, not really. Or, oh, or maybe you could show me some things you see when you go places? Can you do that? It doesn't need to be everything but maybe if I saw somewhere familiar—ah." They withdraw into themself again. "Sorry. Don't worry about it."

She absolutely does not want one of her siblings watching out of her eyes every minute of every day. She especially does not want her sire (or some associated something of her sire) doing so. ... But then, it would be rather boring in here, all alone, wouldn't it.

"... You can ask for stuff," she says, softly. If admittedly because what they ask for is likely to be very indicative, but also because she wants to treat prisoners or semi-prisoners or innocent people under her power well. "I don't mind showing some memories of places." Here: view of the market, when she went shopping with Aleks. Just a vague overview of the market, none of the personal stuff like what she went shopping for or who she was with or how she felt about any of it.

They peer at the memories as if trying to glare their secrets out of them and burn every detail in their mind. But... "No, sorry," they sigh. "I don't recognise those places. But... thank you anyway. I wish I had more to offer."

Ugh, this framing is so irritatingly transactional.

"It's not a matter of you giving me anything," sighs Vetmera, "I don't... if you really are one of my lost siblings, saved from death by my weird physiology, then I don't... want things from you. I want to verify your situation so I can be sure you're not some kind of trap or something, but. I don't mean you any harm? You don't need to pay in valuable information to be worth the risk of keeping you in here, or something, just. ... I do need to be careful?"

They flinch at her mild annoyance like they'd been slapped. "R-right. That's... you're very kind. I think I'm not... used to that. I'm not sure what I'm used to instead..."

"Spare us the sob story at least until you've figured it all out, will you?"

They flinch again and sit back down and nod at their feet.

She's now a little bit irritated at Theboros, but she clamps down on it instead of giving him a look. His perspective is pretty fair, this is objectively suspicious and concerning!! Just. ... She wants to be kind.

"... I'll leave you some empty books for you to write down anything you remember in, all right? And give you some time to sort things out. Um. Is there anything you want before we give you some space?"

"I... don't know. I think it's... probably fine. Books are good? But when you weren't here time was... strange... so I don't think I'll get bored. Or wait long."

"Oh. Okay." That doesn't make her feel any better at all, actually! Blank books: exist. Along with a desk, and a bed, and a deck of cards. She sets the map floating against the void, then adds a set of colored pens to go with the singular one already present. ... Then she adds a decorative rug, so the place feels just a smidge less, uh. Like sad solitary confinement.

The afterimage of their body language looks kind of tense and shy but curious, and when she's done they say another small, "Thank you," and visibly cut themself off before apologising for being unable to pay again.

"You're welcome," she says, gently, and then they can go.

To another part of the labyrinthine mindscape, instead of out of it entirely.

Where she looks at Theboros and says, very seriously, "Could you use your abilities to make sure that section is neatly isolated from the rest, please?"

"Done," he says in a drawl—but there's a glint of approval in his eye.

"That was so uncomfortable."

EXTREMELY BORING we were surprised you managed to stay quiet that long WE WERE WAITING FOR THEM TO DO SOMETHING INTERESTING in vain MAYBE NEXT TIME don't get your hopes up

"Wasn't it just! No wonder castoffs constantly try to kill each other, it's much easier than the mind games..." grumbles Vetmera, clearly upset.

"Thank you," she adds, to Theboros. "For the record I agree with your assessment, and don't trust... any of that, just..." She waves vaguely.