2022-02-20: The Secret Ingredient
- Cutscene: The Secret Ingredient Is...
- Cast: Yuliana Dispersal
- Where: Various Locations, Earth
- Date: 2022-02-20
- Summary: Yuliana fulfils her end of the bargain.
Yuliana slides in amongst a party of diplomats, to find the one who spoke most from the heart, her bleeding heart, pouring out to the world.
"You have such a marvellous vision," she praises, lightly. A hand on her arm, lightly. "You must tell me all about it."
It's a party, so it wouldn't do to raise objections, particularly when they don't make sense.
After all, she sounds nothing but welcoming.
After all, she feels like --
Civil unrest in the country has brought up many issues -- inequality, hunger, loss -- and various coping mechanisms exist to deal with the upheaval which never quite stops heaving.
Better than rioting, at least, is the humble support group. A method which has ever brought together people with hearts which can still open, people who still wish to reach each other through their pain.
A teal-haired woman sits with them, in their circle. She is a calming presence. A numbing presence.
"Everyone has suffered witnessed so much," says Yuliana, and she does not say where she is from, what she has done. "The waves of torment spread out from the epicentre, and perhaps they never stilled."
More often she is quiet. The relations quiet, too.
Give her some credit: she does listen to their stories.
Hearts bleed, inside a confessional. For so many, it is a calling, not only a profession. It's not so hard to meet someone who cares.
"What ails you, child?" He asks, trapped in a box. He doesn't know what this feeling is; he can't explain it, to her, something in the corner of her heart he cannot quite see.
"Oh-ho? I wonder, I wonder. What weighs on my scales over any other thing..." Yuliana rests her chin on the heel of her hand, sprawled in the tiny space. "... why, it's just how unbelievable any of you are, I suppose."
He pauses: "I don't quite understand." He should, really. He's exceptionally good at understanding. He keeps the chill out of his voice, mostly.
"Quite so, quite so! This world is filled bursting with so many characters," she does not care enough to lie. "So many are trite, and flat, and plain nonsensical... and how can a novel understand its reader? On the outside looking in, I stand. O, hapless witness!"
There is silence, for long moments.
"Then you must work to understand others," the priest concludes.
Yuliana stands, in the box. "What a shame. You see, I'm someone who cannot be understood, so I'm afraid I'll never understand. But you've been ever so helpful, my dear."
He doesn't quite see how, but he's glad to see her leave.
"Captain," Major Pham interjects, sternly, "what hour do you call this?"
"The hour of my report, of course!" Yuliana retorts, cheerfully, pulling herself up to a salute moments too late.
He manages not to sigh, this time. "At ease. You're aware of your appointments with medical, of course."
She always was. "Major, Major," Yuliana repeats, entirely too soothingly, "I would never deprive our best and brightest from the opportunity to stick me all full of needles." She would. It's hardly pleasant.
"It's for your sake, and for the sake of the republic," Pham reminds her, wearily. "Whatever... dalliances you've found for yourself, do remember that you're a valuable asset."
Yuliana /does/ sigh, deeply, and with feeling. "I assure you that 'all' my dalliances delights serve my country, one way or another! Have a little faith, Major, a little faith! Has my independence ever steered you wrong?"
"Frequently." He can do this all day. It's why he's been assigned to handle her for so long, when she keeps wearing out her welcome.
"All right, all right," Yuliana tosses up her hand, openly exasperated, "but overall?"
He takes a single breath. "Your impressive service record is noted, Captain Dispersal. Now. Do you have a report?"
"Major," Yuliana snaps to attention again, "I certainly do! As it happens, there are some fascinating stories coming out of Pretoria --"
Of course, she was always pulling double duty with her so-called dalliances.
Yuliana uncoils her shawl, from her neck, and places the brightly-coloured fabric neatly on a rack with so many others.
Underneath, of course, is the necklace. Four crystals shine black, looped onto it. They have fed long on the empathy she has torn from the universe, all that understanding she has drawn into the hungry abyss of her soul. She found the finest bleeding hearts to feed them with; they thrum with their emptiness, now.
She reaches behind her neck to unclasp it, with smooth motions. Bringing it forward, she unclasps each crystal from the claws which hold it in place -- and places each in its own vial.
The glass grows strange, as she stoppers it. She smiles.
"I do wonder what calls you to need so much more power," Yuliana purrs, to herself, as she grasps four more untuned crystals in the claws of that necklace. "What a greedy entrepreneur you are... but it's rather fascinating, isn't it?"
She collapses back on her cot, holding the necklace up above her head. "For all science's efforts, you may well be the first woman with any clue how to harness this ravenous hunger... dear Elisa." Her hand falls, to the table beside her bed; with a gentle flop, she tips the necklace onto it.
"But are you really the main character of this story, I wonder..?"