View source for 2023-11-05: Strength, My Darling

*'''Log:''' Strength, Dear Heart
*'''Cast:''' [[Character :: Yuliana Kafim]], [[Character :: Elisa Kafim]]
*'''Where:''' The Silent Castle, Kaffeklubben Island
*'''Date:''' 2023-11-05
*'''Summary''': ''Yuliana receives a vision from the Empress, following the flower she plants in Zaftra, and with this terrifying revelation they know when they must strike. Elisa calms her wife, and finally manages to bring her to breakfast -- where they discuss Judau and Leina Ashta, the Woman in the Void, and their plans for the world. (CW: Eldritch/body horror, coercive control)''
----

[[Category:Logs]]
[[Category:Phase 1, Turn 3]]

 <Pose Tracker> Yuliana Kafim has posed.
<poem>

        OST: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wFxXpPAFnks Ghost - Spillways

        Yuliana arrives back in that summoning circle -- the one Elisa set up in advance with her magics. She retrieved ''herself'' back, directly; it will take Parminder longer, to fly from Zaftra back to Area 9. Yuliana ''does'' have a button to call herself back, when it's up to her.

        (It may well have very nearly ''not'' been up to her, but she showed enough coherence and discretion to try and save herself, in those last tense moments. She has to come home to her wife.)

        When she arrives, poor Da Xukong 0 is in quite a state. Outwardly, its armour is gouged and scored, and its beautiful tail has been ''cut right off'' -- but more worrying is what's happened ''inside.'' It's difficult to open the cockpit, though Elisa, with her boundless strength, is able to force the warped hinges; and it is clear, when it's opened up, that the internals of the wanzer have been crushed by some strange force. Thanks to all Elisa's safety redundancies, ''Yuliana'' hasn't been harmed... but even the cockpit has been warped and pushed inwards. "Elya," Yuliana says, plaintive, all pinned in the roll cage around her pilot's seat, "I'm ''stuck.''"

        But it's nothing Elisa can't deal with, one way or another.

        And when Yuliana is safely in her wife's arms again, she wails: "Elya, that monster tried to crush me in my own wanzer! It was -- it was ''just like Torrington!''" She latches herself about her wife, tightly, hands and tentacles tangling in. "And that overblown ''toaster'' was ''awful'' and Nasya didn't ''understand'' and Leyasha said I was ''afraid!'' ''Afraid!'' Just because I'm aware of all that threatens me doesn't mean it's -- they were ''pitying'' me, Elya! Those wretched women from the Ra Mari II, too! And -- and that Lieutenant Peries, the Wild Bear was ''protecting'' her! It's not ''fair!'' Why is ''her'' commander good to her?!"

        Yuliana buries her face against her wife's neck, and insists, miserable: "I'm tired, Elya. Take me to bed..." Thanks to her wife's care, she at least won't have to collapse into bed in her ''pilot's suit.'' No: she's in the comfort of her nightgown, when she buries into her wife's arms.

        As if Elisa could protect her from what happens next.

        Yuliana used to dream. Her dreams weren't ''pleasant,'' but they were recognisably echoes of her own experience, her own mind making sense of her own life. (Operating tables and needles and rubber bullets.)

        She doesn't have those dreams, any more. It happened gradually: at first it was a strange occasion, when blackness spread in all its infinite grace. At first Yuliana texted Elisa at strange hours of the morning, seeking support over this strange thing which roused her from her own bed. But then -- then it became more ''common.'' A thing she could expect every month. A thing she could expect every fortnight; a thing she could expect every week. A thing she could expect multiple ''times'' a week. Until...

        When Yuliana dreams, she is at her most vulnerable; her most open. All her walls and distractions abandoned to the waking world, her heart beats, yearning, in her chest. It is expected, now, that whenever she falls into deep sleep, inevitably those ribs will part like blooming flower to ''expose'' it.

        To Her.

        Her fingers are now jointed six times and number thirteen, with four thumbs to each side of Her hand, and four sides to reckon with; yesterday they numbered six, with three thumbs, and two sides. At times they split at their joints, with two fingertips to trail across her skin. She embraces her; She grasps. She is an artist, as She traces the lines of each of Her Oracle's bones, and splits them finely in two. Two ribs, two spines, two layers of her skull...

        And at first the space between them is hollow, but She would never leave her beloved to be bird-boned; She pours darkness in between them, something stronger than steel and more pliable than silk, a thing which defies all description.

        And when She grasps, tightening her back together, she cries out: "Aa--aahhhh--!"

        STRENGTH, She demands, and Her fingers do not falter.

        "Yes... ll:o ysh jow-llsh... as You will," she rasps out, pained, half in one language and half another. "Please, grant me patience... th'ia th'yni:a iaollsh, Empress." Here, in this place, she knows just ''how'' near. All is as She wills it.

        MINE, Her heart trembles at nonexistence, ALWAYS.

        "Yes," she murmurs, eyelids lilting across her eyelids. She feels so ''much,'' through Her emotions. (And she ''feels'' Her.)

        And with utmost patience does She weave darkness over her bones, through her skin, hole and stitch and ''pull,'' tying her all back together. She snips and cuts another set of legs, all spliced together, in the utmost expression of movement. And of course she understands what She has done: not only blessing her with Her patience, but with the grace to do as She desires.

        "I know," she whispers, in Her audience, "what You require. A--ahh, You... You are so generous..." She must turn, she knows, lock and key and gate. It will not be long, now.

        ALWAYS, a reminder which cannot be denied.

        "Th'o-gh jow..." and she whimpers her gratitude, and winces: "ahh, Y'ni sh'ou-ll:j, yth sth'yll: llwtsh..."

        COME TO ME, Her emotions cannot be argued.

        "Yes," her eyes open, blearily, to look upon ten thousand eyes: "You're anxious, aren't You...? It will be done. Jowll u-iall: pia tou-ia..."

        Each of them green, green, green.

</poem>
 <Pose Tracker> Elisa Kafim has posed.
<poem>

The machine--Da Xukong 0--will recover.  Shari Loom and her team of mechanics will see to that.  No, the machine is not Elisa's concern.  She nearly called Yuliana back herelf... And now--

Elisa reaches out her hand, and steel buckles.  With crackling power, darkness sees the shell of the machine's cockpit forced open, and Elisa reaches in to lift and cradle Yuliana.

What power did this?  She does not know.  She will care later.

"They are not here," Elisa says of all of those problems.  "I am here.  I am here, and you are here.  We are together."

Elisa will indeed take Yuliana to bed, ensure that she does not simply rest in her pilot suit.  And then...

Elisa is watching, as Yuliana murmurs, and whimpers, and winces.  She watches, and waits.  There is so much to know--so much to understand--and  yet--

And yet--

"Awaken, Yuliana," Elisa finally says.  "Return to me.  It is time."

</poem>
 <Pose Tracker> Yuliana Kafim has posed.
<poem>

        Green...

        But a voice tugs at the edge of her consciousness, urging her from REM, and a thousand eyes fade from her as she slowly returns to the distractions of ''this'' world. A voice... her wife's voice.

        Elisa...

        Yuliana's hand balls to a fist, in Elisa's nightgown, as she struggles to waking. She pulls herself closer with her arms, though her legs remain still. "Absolution," she gasps, eyelids fluttering as her green eyes open, unfocused. "Second of the last. All embraced. Darkness our forge and whetstone, bulwark strengthening."

        Her breath comes shallow and quick, as her tentacles, now under her conscious power again, wrap about Elisa and cling there. "The way must open," she demands -- conveys demand -- eyes widening. "The Gate in hand. Dance!" And with this imperative command, her whole body ''trembles,'' as if still moved by some unfathomable power.

        And her legs remain still.

</poem>
 <Pose Tracker> Elisa Kafim has posed.
<poem>

Her legs are still.  Elisa notices that.  It doesn't matter at first, though.  Instead, she waits for those words--for Absolution, and Yuliana may be unfocused in gaze, but Elisa is not.  "Yes," she says.  "It is very nearly time."

Then, Elisa feels the tentacles wrap about her, and wraps arms around Yuliana in turn.  "And it will.  It shall. But not tonight.  Tonight, you return to me," she insists, cajoles, demands.

"Return, my Yuliana.  Return, and speak to me."

She notices, too, that her legs do not move as she trembles.

</poem>
 <Pose Tracker> Yuliana Kafim has posed.
<poem>

        Elisa urges her from that liminal space and so Yuliana collapses into her, with a sharp, pained gasp. "Elya," she whines, sagging bonelessly against her. "Elya..."

        Sometimes, She is merciful, content simply to hold Yuliana in Her grasp; at other times She is satisfied only with unfurling her, to see her in her entirety. Not tonight. Tonight, evidently, She had ''demands.''

        So often does She demand.

        "Wending, winding, I -- I must -- I can't feel my ''legs,''" she says what Elisa must already know, burying her face under Elisa's chin. What she could not say to Leina, she says plainly here: "I'm scared, Elya..."

        But this is just the jealousy of the Void. What it takes it is slow to return to her; it has been this way, now, for some time. She will return to herself, in time. It is her mind which has taken her capacity from her -- not her body.

</poem>
 <Pose Tracker> Elisa Kafim has posed.
<poem>

Demands... Yes, She has those at times.  So often.

"You must speak with me," Elisa says firmly.  "You must return to me.  You have promised this."

The jealousy of the Void is known, but Elisa will take her wife back now.  She will meditate upon the revelations given, but she will not lose Yuliana.  In time, Yuliana will return to herself, and then...

"You are safe.  I am with you."

</poem>
 <Pose Tracker> Yuliana Kafim has posed.
<poem>

        "Yes... yes, I..." Yuliana nuzzles her face into the crook of Elisa's neck, pulling herself in tighter. "I'm -- here," she promises, with a pained little hitch in her breath. "I'm here. Oh, Elya, She ribboned me to pieces... split my legs in two and ''wove''..."

        Still trembling, she lifts her head, to gaze up to her wife's eyes. Her brow knits in consternation, lips pressed thin against each other, tense enough that her fang is visible resting against the bottom. "She bid me to be strong... or perhaps She only requires me to be stronger. I don't know... I can't stop it, Elya. She pours into my bones... I can't stop it..."

        And is that helplessness so horrifying, helpless as she is?

        Yes. Yuliana married ''Elisa.'' It's Elisa whose protection she sought; Elisa she gave herself to. That she cannot deny God is another thing entirely, in her mind. And here, hearing Elisa's jealousy...

</poem>
 <Pose Tracker> Elisa Kafim has posed.
<poem>

Elisa is wounded by that pain.  But what Yuliana says, she listens.  Ribboned her to pieces, and...

Elisa looks back down into Yuliana's endless green eyes in turn.  She listens.  She watches.  "...You need not stop it," Elisa says gently.  "Though I would that She would trust more in my protection.  What is it that I have failed to do...?  Do I not protect you well enough?"

She has to think on this.

Elisa strokes down Yuliana's cheek.  "But worry not of that.  You are awake now, and with me."

</poem>
 <Pose Tracker> Yuliana Kafim has posed.
<poem>

        "No -- No, Elya, you're wonderful!" Yuliana is bold enough to insist on that, even under Her demands. She tilts her face into Elisa's fingertips, leaning into her touch. "She is... She is just... so possessive, Elya. At times I think She is compelled to claim me... lay claim to me. As if I could forget..." And there's something morose, to her words, almost --

        But of course Yuliana couldn't resent Her affection.

        She takes a breath, and sighs, looking doe-eyed to Elisa. "Touch me," she pleads, and her voice is gentled, frills curling and unfurling behind her ears. "You're so much gentler with me, Elya. I -- I know that She adores me, but -- oh, I fear Her grasp. Sometimes... sometimes, I wonder if I've brought a curse on this world... I tell myself it will be beautiful, I do." But she is carved open, night after night, and she is afraid. She is afraid, and she needs Elisa more than ever, now.

</poem>
 <Pose Tracker> Elisa Kafim has posed.
<poem>

Elisa is not so easily reassured as that, but Yuliana's boldness even in the face of such an obvious trouble is welcome.  "Ah, Yuliana..."

Hm.  So very possessive.  "This at least is easy to understand," Elisa says.  "Why She chooses to show in such a way, I do not know, save that perhaps it is more effort to keep you safe... But I know that I would not let you go, either.  Will not."

Then, Elisa strokes down Yuliana's cheek and up that frill.  She wonders...

Hm.

"I would bring a thousand curses down upon this world to preserve you, my Yuliana.  To keep you safe.  Remember that."

...But perhaps it is not words with which she can reassure her, for now.

</poem>
 <Pose Tracker> Yuliana Kafim has posed.
<poem>

        "She is not ''satisfied'' with me," Yuliana says, a touch whining. "I'm always yet ''imperfect''..." It's hard not to take it personally.

        But she hums appreciation, when Elisa strokes her cheek, her frill -- cool to the touch, boneless, and endlessly receptive. (If she were not the way she was... would she be one of the most flagrant Newtypes of the era? Best not to worry on it.) That she asked for her to remember her fingertips makes them no less precious, to her.

        "I remember," she murmurs, the tendrils of her frill curling about Elisa's fingertips. "It's all right, Elya. I'm here, and there's no need for curses. I'm with you..."

        And -- compared to the Woman in the Void -- Elisa is so comfortingly ''human,'' hands with the right amount of fingers, two eyes in the right place on her face. It's always a matter of ''perspective,'' in much the same way as Yuliana is the ''Gentle'' Mistress, when placed beside her wife.

        She must submit to God, but she ''wishes'' for Elisa.

        Elisa has always been there for her.

        And in time her legs return to her; in time, Elisa is even able to coax Yuliana from bed. (She does lay there, sometimes, overlong; she is given to the sort of sadness which weighs her to the furs.) If it takes a while for them to get to breakfast, well -- the sun never rises, here in Kaffeklubben, at this time of year. Can anyone ''really'' say they've risen ''late?'' Besides: the chefs work to Elisa's schedule, not theirs.

        Breakfast today are pancakes laden with cream and berries -- they've already eaten the course of eggs and bacon beforehand, of course. And Yuliana, naturally, carves off a piece to offer to ''Elisa,'' with a cheerful, "say 'aaah!'"

        You'd never know she was just tortured. But then, hasn't it always been that way, with her?

        "Haa... I can't believe we've almost been married for a whole year. Or that it's only been a single year!" Yuliana smiles, and takes a bite of pancakes for ''herself,'' too. Somehow, her black robes have remained unstained despite this perilous breakfast. "You know, I met Leyasha's brother, the other day... Judau, you know? He killed Haman Karn, once." Yuliana doesn't much care for that woman, which might be all Elisa really ''needs'' to know. "Can you imagine he's ''also'' to be wed? Not that his fiancee seemed terribly receptive to my assistance... what was her name, Roux? Yes, Roux Louka, that's it." She hums, carving out another chunk of pancake. "I can't imagine what I've done to offend her. Newtypes are so ''sensitive...''"

</poem>
 <Pose Tracker> Elisa Kafim has posed.
<poem>

Hmm.  Imperfect, Yuliana... Elisa frowns, at that.  Is that how it is?

"Then no curses for today," Elisa says, and smiles.

In time...

"Aaah..."

Pancakes!  Elisa noms on them, pleased, and is glad to see Yuliana in such spirits.  Now, she considers the passage of time.  "It is at once long and short," Elisa agrees.  "I am glad that we are married."

A pause.  "Oh?"  Judau.  "Good for him," Elisa says on the matter of Haman Karn, and ''might'' even remember who Haman Karn is without prompting.  Maybe.  Yuliana doesn't like her, anyway.

"Ahhh yes... A spirited woman, then.  They are sensitive, but I am sure that we shall see more of both, if our association with Leina continues."

She smiles, and cuts off some more pancakes. "Say 'aaah'..."

</poem>
 <Pose Tracker> Yuliana Kafim has posed.
<poem>

        "Mm!" Yuliana hums cheerful agreement, on Elisa's gladness. Her own happiness is carried in the wriggle of her frills and her sparkling smile; somehow, she's the brightest thing in the room.

        Before Leina, of course, there are ''pancakes,'' and Yuliana opens up with an, "aahhh~"

        And, nomph, "Elyula," Yuliana lilts, as saccharine as the pancakes, "it's delicious!" There are even ''strawberries!'' Yuliana loves strawberries. Impossible to grow out here, of course, but the Silent Castle maintains regular imports.

        "Do you think it will?" Yuliana wonders, between bites. "I worry for the girl, you know. They're ''hypnotising'' her again -- that Judau said I'd screwed up, but what does that even ''mean?'' That I didn't get her out of there? I considered relieving her from Dr. Mass's party, but neither of them seemed at all concerned, when I got there, so I didn't even worry on it... haa, then when she comes to ''arrest'' me I'm a touch ''busy'' saving ''everyone'' to save ''her!''" Luckily, Yuliana's frustration does NOT come with throwing the plate at the wall.

        You know. This time.

        "Ugh... they really get under my skin, Elya. Both those Ashtas, now!" Yuliana pouts, and chomps another bite of pancake. Chomp, chomp. "You know, Judau said that you wouldn't want to make yourself my whole world, and it was so ''upsetting!'' I tried to tell him that you'd said nothing of the sort, you know, you want to ''give'' me all the world, and he kept insisting it ''didn't feel right,'' as if he knew anything! I don't know what it is with these people... I try to set the record straight, and they always get these stupid ideas..."

</poem>
 <Pose Tracker> Elisa Kafim has posed.
<poem>

It ''is'' delicious.  Elisa makes a mental note to provide a bonus to the chef, today.  Perhaps also to their importer...

Well, matters for later.

"Yes," Elia agrees.  And then--

Hmm.... "I am unsure," Elisa admits.  "It will depend on her actions, and ours.  She has great potential, that has not changed."  A smile.  "No, it is best that we allow her to act freely, for now.  The ways in which they deprogram her may be disturbing, but it is best to allow them to continue for now."

Judau... Hmmm.  She'd 'screwed up'.  "I could not say of this Mister Ashta, of course."

But, "Hmmm.  Well," she says, "I haven't.  Of course I would love to be all that you need consider," Elisa says fondly.  "But you have your friends, and we have our holy mission.  I can accept these things."

"I do wish to give you all the world, all you wish and more.  But if it does not feel right... perhaps it is because we do not have a 'normal' relationship.  Ours is greater.  Our love is significant, and perhaps others have love as we do.  But we also have a Calling, Yuliana.  We must be even closer, must always grow together, that we can accomplish our mission.  Our love is ours alone.  If they do not understand, that is well enough.  We shall have all you deserve, and more."

</poem>
 <Pose Tracker> Yuliana Kafim has posed.
<poem>

        Their importer ''does'' have a difficult task, getting things all the way out here, to the island closest to Heaven. But that's why Elisa only hires the best!

        You know. When she's hiring them with money, anyway.

        "Is that... are they really just deprogramming her...?" Yuliana frowns, troubled. "It's upsetting." And she does not, in this moment, think of Sayla Mass. More's the pity.

        And Elisa would love to be all in Yuliana's eyes -- ''but.'' (Things they have, things they share; ''she'' has ''her'' friends. And Elisa has...) Of course, she accepts it, and Yuliana smiles to her.

        It ''isn't'' normal, Elisa confirms, and Yuliana listens as she explains. Not just love, but devotion, a mission they share... Yuliana reaches over, to place a hand on her wife's arm. "I am Called to you," she confirms, with significance. "So is our Calling. I love you, ''zhenushka,''" she says, for the fourth time this day. "Whatever you desire, I will place it in your hands, just the same. I wish to be with you, always..."

        She smiles, gentle and accepting, and tilts her head. "But don't judge Judau too harshly, will you? I'm afraid he's an idiot, but he ''was'' kind to me, when I grew upset. He said I wasn't a monster... in the end, he distracted me by asking for help finding a jewellery store. That's how I found that he had no clue about it!" Yuliana laughs, shaking her head. "And no clue how much these things ''cost...'' I had to bail him out, when he found something he liked. And you know, I suppose I feel good about that. Even if it's just for Leyasha's sake, it wouldn't be so bad if he had a happy marriage, too."

</poem>
 <Pose Tracker> Elisa Kafim has posed.
<poem>

"Most likely," Elisa says.  "The requirements of doing so are... onerous, and unpleasant.  It is certainly upsetting.  But necessary.  If it turns out to be more than that... Well, perhaps we'll rescue her one day after all."

But, but, but!  Elisa has Yuliana, of course.  Should she have more?  Hmm.

"Yes," Elisa answers Yuliana, reaching out to place a hand over Yuliana's hand.  The meal will be remembered in moments; for now, there is only this.  "Then you already give me much," Elisa says of Yuliana's wish.  Then... Hmmm.

"Very well," Elisa says of Judau, and Yuliana says something that rather explains a terribly expensive report on their financials.  Hmm indeed.

"Very well.  I will remember 'Judau Ashta' and 'Roux Louka' as fondly as is possible," Elisa assures Yuliana.  "If we can spread joy in small ways such as this, that is not terrible."

</poem>
 <Pose Tracker> Yuliana Kafim has posed.
<poem>

        Yuliana frowns, fins drooping. "If you say it's necessary... all right," she says, though she's still troubled by the idea of hypno''therapy.'' "You'd know best, Elya..."

        Luckily, she can't be dour for very long, thinking of the love in their marriage. Yuliana's frown is a distant memory, by the time Elisa's fingers lay over hers. "It is yours," Yuliana promises her. "Anything. Everything."

        She's promised to two women, but only one of them can lay her hand on her without tearing her apart.

        ''... was'' it terribly expensive? (Compared to most of Yuliana's outings, it ''was.'' Even with her generous tipping habits!) Well, Yuliana's explained it, so surely all's well.

        Yuliana smiles. "Thank you, my darling," she says, gentled under her. "Leyasha wishes for a better life, after what was done to her... I should like to see her situation improve, and I know her brother is important to her." Like Yuliana's friends are important to Yuliana? Anyway. "Really, I'm doing my best to be considerate... though sometimes it feels like no matter what I do, I'll always be maligned. Honestly, just because they upset me! It's unreasonable!" She's unreasonable, but don't tell ''her'' that.

        "Haa... at least Leyasha's never given up on me," Yuliana grumbles, pouting. "But convincing all those people around her... it's a struggle, Elya, I'll tell you that. Just because I might have attacked them here and there, ''really''..."

</poem>
 <Pose Tracker> Elisa Kafim has posed.
<poem>

"I will look into the matter," she assures Yuliana, "Should it continue to distress you."

And there.. Anything.  Everything.  Elisa smiles.  It is good.

And the money is already almost forgotten.

"Of course," Elisa says.  Then, the matter of Leina's better life... "Indeed.  It is so generous of you to consider in this way...."  She frowns.  "Very unreasonable," she says.  "But they will not understand.  Perhaps in time, but certainly not now."

But she's never given up... "Yes, a struggle indeed.  Personally, I see no reason to be so troubled by a few disagreements.  They should be more generous of spirit."

</poem>
 <Pose Tracker> Yuliana Kafim has posed.
<poem>

        "Thank you," Yuliana smiles, and thinks nothing of sending Elisa into Leina's business. Why shouldn't she be pleased that Elisa is keeping an eye on her welfare?

        Yuliana's happy with it.

        (And it is so important to keep Yuliana happy. She has such terrible moods!)

        "I'm a generous woman," Yuliana insists, and it's a new paradigm, for her. But why ''wouldn't'' she be, when Elisa keeps telling her she is? "And she's fortunate to have my consideration... but I find myself sympathetic to her, knowing the emptiness in men's hearts as she does." Just like Yuliana, isn't it?

        Maybe not. Close enough.

        "I even told them, you know," she sniffs, haughtily, "that if they had it in their fool minds, they were free to oppose me. Even though they're getting in my way! I don't know what else they ''want'' from me. That Renalle, she was talking about going away to ''talk,'' to ''work things out...'' ugh, what good would that do? There's no way they'd understand what I had to do."

        Yuliana frowns, more trouble entering her tone. "Really... sometimes, I'm not even sure I understand what I must do. Do you ever stop to wonder, Elya -- flowers? Why flowers, now?" She looks down, at the tentacles all curled about Elisa's legs, and lifts one to her knee; its crests flare out, in the image of an orchid. "I mean, I suppose I see the resemblance, but... why a garden, Elya?"

</poem>
 <Pose Tracker> Elisa Kafim has posed.
<poem>

Close enough, is it?  Elisa considers.  But no, she will not yet try to sever that particular connection.  It is so important to Yuliana, after all, even if it is inconvenient at times.

"Some of them think that if they can only explain it in the right ''way'', that our mission will change.  That they can convince you that it is the wrong thing to do, to pave the way for Her coming.  They do not understand."

But... Hmm.

"..I do," Elisa says, thinking it fine to share this for her wife--she is still being strong, is not showing ''weakness'', to wonder.  It is the scientific method, after all.  To wonder...

"My guess is that when we have finished our work, the flowers will bloom, and the power we need will rise from them.  But no, I am not certain.  I must always try to interpret Her will, your visions.  I know that we must do these things... But such is the way of the divine.  Vague, uncertain.  If I ''knew'', of course..."

"But there must be some reason that I do not."

</poem>
 <Pose Tracker> Yuliana Kafim has posed.
<poem>

        It must be the right thing to do. She has watched over Yuliana for so ''long;'' and now, so quickly, in a matter of a few scant years, Her influence has grown so ''much.'' Elisa would not be so sure, if it were wrong. "They don't understand at all," she echoes her.

        But she isn't ''questioning.'' She's wondering. She is just trying to appreciate Her wonders, and this, surely, is well.

        "The divine... She really is a God, isn't she, Elya? For the longest time, I didn't know how to think of Her... the Woman in the Void was just always there, in the torn edges. I was ignorant of what moved me... it's only when you came to me that things became clear, ''zhenushka.''" She smiles, squeezing Elisa's arm, warmly.

        "I wish that you could see. I know it is hard for you... and I make such precious little sense, when I see beyond. But you still make sense of it all! Perhaps... perhaps, yes, the flowers will bloom. I think they've one foot in the Void, Elya, as I do... but their roots are spreading so deep in the earth. If we keep planting them... surely we'll save the whole world." And her thoughtful expression is marred by a frown, as she repeats, "The whole world..."

        And that's a good thing, isn't it?

</poem>
 <Pose Tracker> Elisa Kafim has posed.
<poem>

"She must be," Elisa answers.  "What else would She be?"

Yuliana was ignorant once, but, "But together we can be more than we were.  Together, all things will be possible.  And we shall remain together."

A smile, then, and a shake of her head.  "It is well.  You See; I Act.  Together we are whole."

One foot in the Void... "Yes, I think you are right.  They do.  And..."  Hmm.

"Yes," Elisa says.  "That is our desire.  To leave none behind."

</poem>
 <Pose Tracker> Yuliana Kafim has posed.
<poem>

        "Yes... surely this is what She's chosen." To be a God, rather than a devil? "And it will not be so easy to kill Her." No matter what Asciel might claim.

        Yuliana smiles, and echoes: "Together." It is a spell which grows stronger with each incantation, this witchcraft known as love.

        "Together," a second time. "I rely on your decisive action, ''zhenushka.'' I would be blinded by all I See, were I alone..."

        When Elisa reminds her of her conviction, Yuliana's frown fades to another smile. "Yes," she agrees, easily. "Absolute equality... I wish to unite the whole world under this ideal. No one shall be turned away. No one shall be left behind. Unlike those ''Newtypes,'' looking to take the ''special'' to ''ascend'' and leave the rest to ''rot'' -- rrrgh, but even they'll have a place, in the world to come." Yuliana's smile grows beatific. "I will forgive their inconsiderate desires. Everyone will have the same opportunities, the same capacity for growth. None shall be shackled by a lack of fortune." Is that ''why'' she tips so generously?

        And a third time: "And we can be happy, together. It won't hurt any more, Elya..."

</poem>
 <Pose Tracker> Elisa Kafim has posed.
<poem>

"How could they?" Elisa asks, scoffing openly at the prospect of Asciel's claims.  "They cannot even destroy ''me''."

Perhaps it is Elisa's most potent spell, that.  But she listens, now, to Yuliana, as she smiles, as she speaks of her wish and desire.  What she will forgive.  What they will see.  What will happen...

"Yes," Elisa says.  "Together."
</poem>