View source for 2024-08-18: The Prince's Preparations

*'''Log:''' The Prince's Preparations
*'''Cast:''' [[Character :: Yuliana Kafim]], [[Character :: Elisa Kafim]], [[Character :: Shaddiq Zenelli]] (NPCed by Yuliana)
*'''Where:''' The Silent Castle, Kaffeklubben Island
*'''Date:''' 2024-08-18
*'''Summary''': ''Yuliana and Elisa's celebrations over GOOSE CRIME are rudely interrupted -- by the Prince himself, calling with pointed questions over those Dawn of Fold operations which the Kafims jeopardised. He encourages them to make nice with their allies again... and secures a promise from Yuliana to stick her neck out and lead some operations in the future. (CW: Implied offscreen sex. The evil lesbians are married, Harold.)''
----

[[Category:Logs]]
[[Category:Phase 2, Turn 1]]
[[Category:Phase 2]]

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

        OST: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2A3d1Q9zFz4 Espers - Dead Queen

        Yuliana drapes over her wife, tangled over her as they lay across the couch in their room. Her robes are a little tangled, too -- a touch dishevelled, as if she didn't much care about how they looked when she threw them on. (It can get a little chilly, in here, even with the fireplace.) Her head rests against Elisa's shoulder, a hand reaching up to play through hair she'd long since loosed; sturdy leather bracelets join the usual adornments on her wrists, today, runes etched over the tanned hide.

        "Hahaha..." She laughs, warmly, regarding her wife with infinite affection. She's in the middle of fond recollection, as she remarks: "Oh, you laughed so! To see your smile was the sweetest reward... though that's not to say," she adds, smiling quite ''smug,'' "I've gone ''unrewarded.''"

        Her other hand is tangled in Elisa's, fingertips clutching hers, and she lifts both of their hands so that she might lay a kiss upon her wife's knuckles. Her eyes drop to her perfect brown skin, and in that moment of contemplation, she finds herself overwhelmed, ''overawed'' by the force of her feelings. (How could this be a ''distraction?'' How could their affection be manipulation?) She draws in a deep sigh, and it's made intimate, as her breath washes over Elisa's fingers.

        "I love you so much," Yuliana murmurs, green finding jealous green again, her own hand slackening in their grasp. "I want things to be just like this... just like this, Elya. Don't you...?"

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

Elisa is pleased.

She is less concerned with warmth, of course.  She regards Yuliana in much the same way, remembering as Yuliana states it the sensation of amusement.  Yes... She had laughed.  "I am glad you think so," Elisa answers.  "...On both counts."

Elisa squeezes Yuliana's fingers with her hand, and that feeling--a distraction?  Hardly.  Elisa recalls Leina saying as much, and...

No, she does not understand Elisa's plans.

Elisa leans against Yuliana on the couch.  "I love you," she repeats.  "...This is an ideal way for things to be.  You and I, together..."

"After something we've done, together.  Yes.  It is well."

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

        That's a normal way to remember how funny something was.

        Yuliana surrenders her fingers to Elisa, too, her gaze lidding with affection as she looks up to her wife. "I do so love being able to do things with you," she says, softly, and that's a normal desire for married life, too. Does it matter that ''what'' they've done is terrorise a city?

        None of them... could possibly understand.

        "Ahh, and you were so generous, ''zhenushka...'' I was surprised you'd humour that girl's request for compensation!" Yuliana laughs, again, nuzzling her cheek against Elisa's shoulder. "But it was so funny... I bet they're still worrying about whether there's a catch, up there. Haha!"

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

Of course it is.

Elisa accepts this normal, everyday desire from her wife.  It doesn't matter that they terrorized a city?  No, it matters quite a bit.  It matters to Elisa.  It's a ''good'' thing.

"Hahaha," Elisa replies, amused again as if it happened once more.  Her laughter is different from Yuliana's, but quite extant now.  "Yes, I imagine they wonder.  That is all the more 'fun'.  But it is the message we must send, not paltry matters such as economic damage.  That is what is important."

"...And making them wonder is a... how is it said?  A 'bonus.'"

"Ah, my darling..."

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

        And when Elisa offers her own rich, full laughter to Yuliana's lighter, cheerier affair, her smile only beams all the more brightly. "Of course!" She chirps, reaching with the fingers of her other hand to stroke them down her wife's cheek. "It's all about sending a message!"

        Her hand drops to Elisa's shoulder, to steady herself, as she props herself up over her wife. Her shorter hair falls over her ears, parted by the frills behind them. "Elyul~a," she murmurs, saccharine-sweet and inviting --

        -- which is the precise moment when the phone rings.

        Yuliana's expression shifts to pique at ''once,'' pouting at the couchside table where she's left her phone. But it keeps ringing, despite the fact that her frills airplane out to either side of her face in CLEAR dissatisfaction, and a moment later she reaches out with a tentacle to grasp it. (The tentacles have their own leather bracelets. They're ''very'' fashionable.)

        "Someone had BETTER have died!" She snaps, into the receiver, as she accepts the call over audio alone.

        Only to blink, stunned, a moment later. "... eh? Prince?"

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

The message is important.  But the phone rings, and it is its own message.  Elisa lifts an eyebrow at the interruption, but does not react so bombastically.  Instead, she listens to her wife and her answer.

The prince...

"Perhaps someone did die," Elisa says brightly.  "Darling, put him on speaker.  I would like to speak with him as well."

"...We can resume ''our''... conversation, shortly.  Yes?"

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

        Dead bodies are ''always'' a riot, even if the ''real'' party is ''getting'' them that way.

        "Mm... all right," Yuliana accedes, to her wife, placing the phone down upon Elisa's chest as she presses the speaker icon.

        "...ms I've interrupted you," the Prince's smooth voice transitions from the receiver to the speakers, apologetically. (And perhaps, beneath that, with a hint of ''amusement.'') "Do forgive me, Kafims. But I've heard some concerning reports I must discuss with you."

        "Ugh," Yuliana groans, weight sinking back into her wife again. "Who ratted me out? It was Angelo's girl, ''wasn't'' it?"

        "If you know what I'm talking about," the Prince points out, quite reasonably, "there's no need to elaborate on my sources. We all agree that your animals just visited Magallanica and caused quite a ruckus, don't we?"

        "Rrrrmmmm..." Yuliana growl-mutter-confirms, frills flapping agitation against her head.

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

Amusement!  Elisa would probably be amused too, in his shoes.  But she thinks of that not out of empathy, but out of her usual skill at manipulation.  "By all means," Elisa says of the concerning reports--and then, of course, Yuliana speaks up, and Elisa strokes her arm.

"There is no need to blame the girl," Elisa says.  "We would hardly wish to ''hide'' such activities from our dear friends.  I am most interested in what concerns you have..."

"...Because indeed, we agree on this."

Pet, pet.  She notably didn't see an argument that it ''wasn't'' her.

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

        Of course it was Yuliana who's responsible.

        "I have no issue with you... how shall I put this?" The Prince pauses, the sound of two fingers rubbing together. "Taking your geese for a walk," he settles on, a moment later. "But your indiscriminate approach... it threatened to compromise ''three'' of our agents, even leaving aside your new recruit." Yao, that is.

        "It's not ''my'' fault they got in the way," Yuliana grumbles, though her gaze lids, feeling her wife's fingertips against her arm. "They should have just ''kept their heads down.''"

        "Surely you can see that's not reasonable," the Prince encourages her. "We wouldn't be the Dawn of Fold if we weren't willing to defend ourselves in the face of force. But we are," he goes on, "and are we not to be united, in the face of all the threats against us?"

        Yuliana scowls.

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

Taking their geese for a walk.  What a delightfully absurd way of saying it.  Elisa is pleased, still.  The compromise of three agents, of course... Elisa is thoughtful at that, though she does not stop stroking Yuliana's arm.  Yuliana grumbles, of course.  And what she says may be true...

"It would be ''convenient'' had they done so... But surely we respect them more for their willingness to put their own strength to the test," she says, deciding for both of them without having to insist upon it.

"Very well.  We ''do'' wish to remain united."

'Go on', her tone says.

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

        Yuliana's irritation is lulled by her wife's touch, and she hums vague agreement, mollified into letting Elisa speak for them.

        "Then I'm sure you see the value in ''reparations,''" the Prince goes on, a smile audible in his voice. "I'm aware that you haven't always... seen eye to eye with our Spacenoid compatriots, but I'd like for you all to be able to work together."

        "Tch... what?" Yuliana grumbles, under her wife's hand. "You want me to ''apologise?'' What ''for?'' I barely even ''did'' anything."

        "I'm not asking you to compromise your values," the Prince assures her. "But it's reasonable to ask you to reach out and repair a strained relationship, isn't it? I don't think I'm asking for much."

        Yuliana mumbles something indistinct, turning her face in towards her wife's shoulder.

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

Reparations, he says, and Elisa considers this thoughtfully; with no one focusing on her face, they will not see the calculation that her expression takes on, but Yuliana may feel it through their shared connection.  That she is actively considering this man's words.

"Not an apology," Elisa says.  "But a sign that our strength is magnanimous.  That we can both attend to our own matters and care for our allies as needed.  To repair a strained relationship..."

"Yes," Elisa says.  "This is not a compromise of our values... depending on what it is that you ''are'' asking of us."

Is that what he's getting at?  Some... 'help' towards the Spacenoids?  Elisa does not mind them nearly so much as Yuliana does.

"...Provided that it would also be a show of 'strength' of course.  To simply back down ''would'' be a compromise."

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

        "For now," the Prince assures them, "a friendly overture would be fine. Why not invite them over for tea?"

        "For tea!" Yuliana exclaims, struck by the outrageousness of it all. "What's that supposed to do?!"

        "It will re-establish friendly relations after your little escapade put that strain on them," the Prince points out, still quite amicable. "I'm sure you're not ''completely'' unaware of the use of that...?"

        "Ugh," Yuliana grumbles, sinking into her wife again. "Yeah, I mean, I guess I said I'd make it up to Six... said I'd fix their robot, or something like that..."

        "So I'm really just reminding you of what you'd planned to do from the beginning," the Prince suggests.

        "Rrrmmm," Yuliana hums, growling vague assent.

        "... but if you're ''offering'' to demonstrate a show of strength," he adds, as if it just occurred to him, "it may well help to repair things if you were to lead an operation or two, Yuliana." That he names ''one'' Kafim, though the other offered, is not an accident. "You'd demonstrate that you're as willing to put yourself out there ''for'' our operation as ''against'' it... I'm sure everyone would feel more confident, then."

        Yuliana lifts her head, looking to the phone balanced on Elisa's other shoulder. Her gaze goes to Elisa, first, checking without words -- before she shrugs her free shoulder. "Sure," she says, amicably enough. "It's not like that's hard... I used to do it all the time."

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

A friendly overture.  Not, admittedly, Elisa's first thought--she had assumed a grander gesture--but then, if she were the friendly overture type, she would be a very different godshard indeed.  She considers the offer.  Tea...

She notices the way the Prince plays her wife--but sees no need ''yet'' to dissuade that.  He says much the same she might've said, after all.  It is... endearing, in its way.  Worth seeing what else he has to say.

That next part is more what Elisa was expecting.  No, of course it is no accident.  Elisa inclines her head silently to Yuliana before she answers, giving her own assent.  "Hmhm... Yes, the organization should be grateful for my wife's skills.  Since she has agreed, I believe that you will find as before that she is most talented."

A pause.  "As for this tea matter... Indeed, my darling did say she would 'make it up' to them.  A 'friendly overture' is a fine thing to extend in such circumstances.  It allows us to show that there are no hard feelings."

Elisa is not sure what the Prince is ''really'' after here today...

But after ''this'', she's more interested in finding out.

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

        That's the benefit of being human. The Prince thinks of these things Elisa wouldn't, from his mysterious setting, wherever he dwells.

        "She is," the Prince agrees with Elisa, easily. "That's just why I propose what I do."

        (And Yuliana is at least reassured by her wife's praise, and their leader's. Of course they recognise her talents!)

        "That's right," the Prince encourages Elisa, and through her, Yuliana. "No hard feelings. That's what's important, here. It sounds like you already have a vision for reaching out, so I'll leave it in your hands..."

        It's not hard to imagine his spreading, behind the phone line. "... as I hope you'll leave the task of demonstrating your strength in mine. I'll be in touch."

        "Take care," Yuliana offers him farewell, before the call cuts out.

        She sighs, grasping her phone and tossing it vaguely aside; luckily, it hits one of the furs which warm the stone floor, so it ''probably'' isn't damaged. "Really!" She huffs, as she turns her attention back to her wife. "He could have called ''later!'' Ugh... people are so ''inconsiderate!''" She pouts, rubbing her cheek against Elisa's shoulder. "I can't believe these people bothering us when I'm all wrapped up with ''you...''"

        Yuliana pauses, gaze falling to the feathering at the edge of Elisa's ears. "... but it sounds like I've gotten us wrapped up in even more trouble," she adds, thoughtfully. "Is that okay, Elya...?"

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

"I'll be watching," Elisa says, "To see what you come up with.  I'm ''most'' intrigued."

He'll be in touch, he says.  And Yuliana offers him a farewell.  The phone doesn't matter any longer; instead, Yuliana's wife says, "Indeed.  The timing was most inconvenient."

A pause.  "It is well," Elisa says, and the feathering at her ears does not argue; indeed, she seems... calm.  Pleased.  "It is natural that some of them would take issue at being wrapped up in our fun.  Not everyone can understand.  ...But rather than a problem," Elisa says, "I think this affords us ''opportunity''.  Opportunity to establish ourselves as more important within our friends' minds..."

"Mmm.  But right now, only you are important, my darling.  I trust we won't be interrupted a second time."

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

        "Don't worry," Yuliana assures her wife, "I took the liberty of turning the damn thing off before I tossed it out."

        She reaches up, fingers cradling the side of Elisa's face. "I know it's a good opportunity... but let's take it ''later.''"

        Her wife is pleased, and that makes Yuliana happy, too.
</poem>