2022-11-09: "Sorry, you're not in on the joke"
- Log: "Sorry. You're not in on the joke."
- Cast: Ennil El, Eight York
- Where: Side 1, L5
- OOC - IC Date:0096-11-09
- Summary: Eight York is looking for answers; Ennil El is preparing to do the right thing.
<Pose Tracker> Ennil El has posed.
Ennil El is ill at ease. That's not unusual - Ennil El is ill at ease in a lot of places, but especially places where her day started with hiding a Geara Zulu. But maybe her jitters are just the result of the three cups of coffee already sitting beside her as she stares, distressed, at the screen in front of her, slowly tapping out a message. Eventually, nibbling slightly at her lip, she wraps up, sends the message to herself, and slowly closes the screen. This isn't why she's here, and she won't be here for long, if she can help it. But there are still more things she needs. And though Ennil El has lived several years being extremely careful to not let anyone know what she wants, today she's doing the exact opposite.
Today she's setting bait, poking her nose into old history. Psycommu research is one of those things most people have no particular reason to care about. Especially not Zeon projects that haven't been dusted off in years. But the kind of people who would know, and would care a whole lot - They might come and find her. She's certainly hoping they do, clutching her fourth coffee in the (simulated) pleasantness of the colony's winter weather settings, staring up into the vast, green curve above her.
<Pose Tracker> Eight York has posed.
Ordinarily, Eight York would prefer to spend leave time with her partners, or else otherwise relaxing. But with the mess with a certain Captain Dispersal, there's information she needs to seek out. And more to the point, people searching out certain information that she needs to seek out.
So, she takes the bait. Eight is generally confident in her security on foot; she was trained as a weapon, after all. But she knows she's in neutral territory, far from her crew, so...
She steps into the coffee house, and looks around to see Ennil there. The tall, blonde woman steps forward, to find the woman who matches the description she was given.
"Good day for coffee, huh?" she says.
<Pose Tracker> Ennil El has posed.
The redhead scans over her, briefly, then gives a little laugh. Warm, but kind of... practiced. "Yeah, guess so. Funny thing about being up here - weather's always nice for something. You forget after a while, spending all your time in gravity."
She leans forward a bit, sidling over to make space for the blonde on the bench she's using. "Looking to make conversation? Because you asked that question like you wanted to ask me a different one." With the hand not holding the coffee, she reaches over and grasps the laptop, nudging it into the bag at her feet in one smooth movement. Whatever she's been doing with it, it seems that's not today's business.
"Can't say I expected you to be the one asking, though. Guess there's something to what's going around."
<Pose Tracker> Eight York has posed.
Warm, but practiced. Eight does the quick calculus on whether this is likely to be some kind of trap. She decides it's probably fine. "Ha, right? I didn't even encounter rainstorms until I got to Earth," she answers amiably.
Then she grins, and takes a seat on the bench at the question. "You're right!" she says. "I heard you've been asking questions about some of the same things I've been asking questions about," she says, and sits down with a coffee of her own. She doesn't pay much mind to the laptop. She's busy focusing on Ennil.
"Yeah, you've heard about me, huh? Well, I'd like to keep my job under wraps while I'm here, but the rumors about my history are true. I'm from Zeon originally."
"So what's got you interested in it? If I can ask, of course."
<Pose Tracker> Ennil El has posed.
"You made it out," Ennil says, matter of factly. "Found something that worked for you. There's someone... a little like you, a little like me. Sooner or later I'm going to run into her again." She sighs, softly. "I want her to make it out. There are a lot of people who won't. So I can't ignore any angle. If the machine is a factor... I'm not sure what I can do about it. I'm just a regular old Vulture."
She shrugs, meeting Eight's gaze. "I don't know what it was like for you. But I'm hoping, even knowing what she's done, you'll care more about helping someone than getting one over on Zeon."
<Pose Tracker> Eight York has posed.
"I wish I could tell you I had a method that definitely worked," Eight says. "But I didn't get out because of me. I got out because a couple people who'd become my parents saw a child in a bad place and got her out of there."
Eight nods, after that, having said what she needed to say about it, given that caveat. "...But, I see. You have someone important to you..." Technically, it's against regulations to even be talking about something like this--especially if whoever this is has done... something.
"I don't know who she is," Eight admits. "But you're right. I'm more interesed in getting people free of crimes like that than I am 'winning' against Zeon. Those things... they're why I fight Zeon in the first place." She looks back. She's obviously not in uniform, but she has the practiced assurance of an officer all the same.
"...If that's the reason you're looking into it, then we don't have a problem. But I don't know if I can help you. I'd need to know more. And if it turns out I can't help you..."
"Then I guess I didn't hear anything after all, huh?"
<Pose Tracker> Ennil El has posed.
"Huh. You know, funny thing." Ennil's still looking at Eight, but she seems a little... far off, for a moment. "Seems like that's what I hear most of the time. We get out because someone cared about getting us out."
There's some hesitation in her voice. Ennil is choosing her words carefully, taking long breaths inbetween. It's not just to articulate - speaking about this means remembering it, and there's a slight quiver in her shoulders when she lets herself do that. "She was angry. Had a lot of reason to be but -" She tugs at her lip again. "But it was more than that. It was like her machine was angry too. I haven't seen or felt that in a long time. The way it just poured off... That awful pressure."
She has to take a long sip of the coffee after that, steeling herself against a sudden chill. "If I can get her to hear me, I think she'll listen. But I'm not sure it's just a matter of shouting loud enough, you know?"
<Pose Tracker> Eight York has posed.
"It's the first step. When you're that deep in... you can't save yourself, by yourself." She notices that distance, though. She wonders who cared about Ennil to get her out. If that's how it was.
But she doesn't mind hesitation; she has nowhere else to be for a while. So, the Captain waits. "...Psychoframe, huh?" Eight asks, confirming her suspicion. The 'machine' was angry. She knows that kind of pressure. She's felt it. "Mm. Yeah."
Eight sips her coffee too, and frowns thoughtfully. "...Maybe not," she admits, "But I think you're doing the right thing by not giving up. ...But, while I don't have advice for that other than 'don't give up'... I do have a warning."
"There's a Federation officer out there who's hunting up people like us, trying to use our pasts against us. Captain Dispersal. If you run into her... Be very, very, very careful. She might be on the trail, too."
<Pose Tracker> Ennil El has posed.
Ennil nods, slowly. "I have the strangest feeling I know who you're talking about." She grins, thinly. "And if I'm right... yeah. I'd bet on her showing up." It's not exactly an idea Ennil relishes. You wanna talk about bad vibes -
"You know? For the first time in a long time I actually think the same thing. That I'm doing the right thing, I mean. And not just because your Captain Dispersal wouldn't want me to. Though it helps."
She takes another slow look at the blonde. She's not blessed with knowing the inside of other people's heads the way some people are, so it's just practice for her, just a lot of time spent having quiet conversations. "For what it's worth. If anyone thinks any of that shit matters - what they're saying about you, I mean - That's their problem. You don't owe it to them. You just keep doing what feels right."
<Pose Tracker> Eight York has posed.
"That... should surprise me, but doesn't," Eight decides on Yuliana. "Well, good luck." There's not a ton Eight knows of for what to do about her.
The first time in a long time... "Good. It's a good feeling, isn't it? Feeling like you're actually on the right track. I wish I had that one more often myself, these days. But I can take care of my crew, anyway." A grin. "...Yeah, she definitely wouldn't want you to, though. Knowing she'd hate what I'm doing helps me, too."
Eight was given that 'gift' without ever asking for it, but she knows enough people who don't 'broadcast' much that she doesn't neglect the basics. She looks back, willing to keep eye contact. And she keeps it for a long few moments, as if searching Ennil's eyes for something. Then, she relaxes, and breaks into a better smile. "Thanks," she says. "I think so too. The way I see it..."
"One way or another, I'll find the right track. Wherever I have to go to find it."
"I do wish I could help more. I can trade you some of the info I've dug up, anyway. I've got a spare drive."
<Pose Tracker> Ennil El has posed.
"You've helped a lot," Ennil says. It sounds true enough, and the jitters seem to have faded. "I think I know more or less what I need to do now. Some of the details might help though, so I'll take whatever you've got." She smiles, and it's a lot more honest, this time - even if her eyes aren't joining in. "I hope I don't end up making trouble for you. If we end up seeing each other again, a few days from now... try and remember that I'm trying to do the right thing, okay?"
The chuckle is dry, and cold, and hangs in the winter air. "I'd hate for us to end up shooting at each other. I have enough apologies to write as is."
<Pose Tracker> Eight York has posed.
Eight appreciates that she seems to have been able to help. "Good," she says. "And good--I'll clone the drive." She can do that here while she's sitting, once they're done with this conversation, and hand it to Ennil before she goes. None of it's Federation secrets, so she doesn't have to worry about that.
"I will," Eight says. She considers. Shooting at each other... "It's possible," she admits. "As long as we think we're doing the right thing ourselves, and that conflicts... It's always possible."
"But I'll hope it doesn't go that way, too."
She'll leave the drive when she goes, though that doesn't have to be yet. She has a spare, after all. She made copies for a reason.
<Pose Tracker> Ennil El has posed.
There's a bit of silence as Ennil thinks. She knows where she needs to go next. And what she knows doesn't seem to be cheering her up. "...It's a really nice day." It's a pointless comment - she's already pointed out that colonies like this only have nice days. But this is probably the nicest moment she'll have for a while. Once it ends, there's not much left to do except prepare for something dangerous, and scary, and important. "...There are people who will be hurt if I'm gone. That's why I feel like I can do this, but it's also what makes it so scary. I thought I could do anything as long as all I had to lose was my life."
She sighs, looking up at that long green stretch again. "I hope she knows. She always seems to know everything." She tilts her head slightly at Eight, staring as if trying to gauge something. Her voice is much quieter now. "Even if you knew how someone felt... They should probably just say it, right?"
<Pose Tracker> Eight York has posed.
It is a nice day, though. Even if it's always a nice day. "Living with nothing to lose but your life sounds pretty lonely," Eight admits. "But it is scarier having more." She can see that. She can get that. But while she doesn't know exactly what Ennil is talking about here with 'her', and what she knows...
"Definitely," Eight agrees, looking right back to Ennil, without a moment's hesitation. "Even if they already know... For me, at least--I want to hear it, when it's me. It's important to say it out loud."
<Pose Tracker> Ennil El has posed.
She stops for a moment at the quickness of the response, then laughs. "Thought so. God, I suck at this. How was I supposed to know?" She's giggling so hard she's tearing up a little, and she gives Eight a sorry little look. "Sorry. You're not in on the joke. Just, too little, too late." She catches her breath, then sighs.
"I guess it was lonely. Lonely enough for me to screw things up for someone who went out of her way to help me. I hope she won't be mad. I hope she knows I'm doing the right thing, too." Her tone is soft and a little bitter. "I don't know why I'm telling you this. I guess this way someone knows how I felt, just in case."
<Pose Tracker> Eight York has posed.
Eight doesn't get it, no. But she doesn't have to; it's nice to see somebody who seems so serious and a little glum laughing. "I don't mind," she says. That sigh again...
"I hope so too," Eight answers, perhaps surprisingly earnestly. "But maybe you'll have a chance to tell her." Her tone is gentle; she notices that bitterness, after all. "...Sometimes it's important that someone knows. So I'll remember. And if we ever meet again after all this, I'll ask you how it went."
<Pose Tracker> Ennil El has posed.
There's a strange, conflicted look in Ennil's eyes when Eight mentions them seeing each other again. She closes her eyes, takes a single deep breath, and says,
"I hope we do. In happier times. And neither of us has to shoot at the other to do the right thing."
Then she's smiling again. But it's the first smile, the one she's practiced so many times. Like she's not really sure how she feels. "There are a few decent places to eat around here. We can finish up and have something to do while we wait. How do you feel about Thai?"
What's not being said is; this is as far as I can go right now, and I'm sorry. I really do hope we can be friends someday.
<Pose Tracker> Eight York has posed.
"Agreed."
There's nothing Eight can do about the possibility, short of stopping what she feels she needs to do, and she suspects the same is true of the other woman. But there's a world they can hope for, anyway, and if there isn't... then there's not much point in any case.
Eight smiles back, and it's an easier one; either she is more willing to wear her feelings on her sleeve, or just better at knowing. "Sounds good to me," the Captain answers. "I like Thai."
It's far enough.