Difference between revisions of "2023-08-22: Spirit Spite"
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... she does so love to watch her ''work.'' | ... she does so love to watch her ''work.'' | ||
− | Elisa brings concordance to the discord of torn veils. Reality is weak here, yes, and she sees Her spidering fingers, tapping against the glass. Y oni llia:, echoing through the gossamer stone fabric. Th'ia tiot lloa llia:. And it does not raise as a question raises, but it demands answer, anyway. | + | Elisa brings concordance to the discord of torn veils. Reality is weak here, yes, and she sees Her spidering fingers, tapping against the glass. {{Ruby|Y oni llia:|I am here}}, echoing through the gossamer stone fabric. {{Ruby|Th'ia tiot lloa llia:|The dead are here}}. And it does not raise as a question raises, but it demands answer, anyway. |
"Yes," Yuliana murmurs, gaze veiled with her smile, as she watches Elisa demand her answers. | "Yes," Yuliana murmurs, gaze veiled with her smile, as she watches Elisa demand her answers. | ||
− | And fondly, fondly, one reality regards another, love in the face of all Denver's hatred. Isn't it beautiful?, Yuliana thinks, a yearning only one existence can hear. She is not one for conversation. Rather: U'oth ysh niy-o ysh llia:. | + | And fondly, fondly, one reality regards another, love in the face of all Denver's hatred. Isn't it beautiful?, Yuliana thinks, a yearning only one existence can hear. She is not one for conversation. Rather: {{Ruby|U'oth ysh niy-o ysh llia:|What is mine is here}}. |
"Yes." | "Yes." | ||
− | Kh'ou-ni:a llia:... | + | {{Ruby|Kh'ou-ni:a llia:|Come here}}... |
And she does, stepping forward, stepping into Elisa's space; but as she reaches to her, that waterfall of purple hair tumbles down across her dark hands, and by the time her arms are around her they're quite buried in gravity and the world that is. | And she does, stepping forward, stepping into Elisa's space; but as she reaches to her, that waterfall of purple hair tumbles down across her dark hands, and by the time her arms are around her they're quite buried in gravity and the world that is. |
Revision as of 02:25, 23 August 2023
- Log: Spirit Spite
- Cast: Elisa Kafim, Yuliana Kafim
- Where: The Silent Castle - North Tower
- Date: 2023-08-22
- Summary: Elisa tries and fails to summon -- 'reason with' -- the spirits of the Denver Colony, but Yuliana appreciates her efforts, anyway. They speak of the battles and challenges to come, and Elisa brings them to an agreement, together: Emptear will be readied.
<Pose Tracker> Elisa Kafim has posed.
"I call to you..."
The chamber in which Elisa Kafim sits is dark stone. Four walls, an iron-barred door, in darkness save for the sickly green light of fire in the circle before her. That circle is arranged perfectly, blood still uncoagulated as it rests around each of four sets of four candles, green-black flames gleaming on the wide altar in the center of the room. ...For now, the blood does not drain through the grates on the floor. It holds in its place.
Terrible runes are inscribed around the rim of the circle, and Elisa's fingers are still wet from tracing them by hand. The witch is in a black robe, her hair floating as if gravity itself does not apply to her, because the laws of this reality are weak in this place now.
"I call! Spirits of the Denver Colony! Answer!"
A mass of spectral power bursts into being in the circle--and ROARS, exploding within the circle, coursing in rage and pain. It surges towards the edge of the circle, towards Elisa, and is battered back against an invisible wall.
"So," she says, "I cannot summon you. Only an echo of your rage..."
BANG. BANG. BANG. Against the invisible wall the spectral energy crashes. Elisa, thoughtfully, waves her hand; the candles' flames are devoured in an instant. The spectral mass disappears as if it never was, and the room is still.
"Potentially useful, but not for the purpose I had in mind," she reflects, and begins to rise. Her hair falls against her shoulders again; the laws of this world reassert.
...Well, most of them.
<Pose Tracker> Yuliana Kafim has posed.
And then, there's Yuliana.
She opens that iron door to the ritual-room, closes it thoughtfully behind her, and leans against the wall. All the warmth has fled these stones, but the furs draped across her shoulders protect her skin from the stark cold of their island, closest to Heaven.
The North Tower represents the coldest heights of the Silent Castle, and the black bear's furs draped over her shoulders are a reasonable precaution.
She came to offer herself to Elisa's crystal ball -- as she does, habitually, the infinite abyss of her own soul offered to her wife's altar. Yuliana has little other business in this wing of the Castle, where Elisa wreaks her wonders, except...
... she does so love to watch her work.
Elisa brings concordance to the discord of torn veils. Reality is weak here, yes, and she sees Her spidering fingers, tapping against the glass. Y oni llia:, echoing through the gossamer stone fabric. Th'ia tiot lloa llia:. And it does not raise as a question raises, but it demands answer, anyway.
"Yes," Yuliana murmurs, gaze veiled with her smile, as she watches Elisa demand her answers.
And fondly, fondly, one reality regards another, love in the face of all Denver's hatred. Isn't it beautiful?, Yuliana thinks, a yearning only one existence can hear. She is not one for conversation. Rather: U'oth ysh niy-o ysh llia:.
"Yes."
Kh'ou-ni:a llia:...
And she does, stepping forward, stepping into Elisa's space; but as she reaches to her, that waterfall of purple hair tumbles down across her dark hands, and by the time her arms are around her they're quite buried in gravity and the world that is.
"Oh," Yuliana sighs, eyelids fluttering as she re-orients on Elisa's eyes, a closer shade of green. "That unruly crypt abjures your accession, does it...? Luckless wretches... don't let it out. The jar was sealed eons past, hope the world's last evil bound."
<Pose Tracker> Elisa Kafim has posed.
Elisa does not stop, when Yuliana steps inside--but neither does she fail to notice. Not just because of the light outside the room, of course. Not just because of the steps of Yuliana's feet against the stone floor, designed to echo such steps. No... Not only any one of those things.
But not the hated Presence of the Newtypes, either.
No, with Her presence, Elisa's magic is even stronger. It must be strong, even to touch such rage as this. But when she is done, she is done, and she finds that Yuliana has wrapped arms about her. It is difficult for a moment to remember the answer to such physical contact, to remember the weight of body and flesh.
But it is not unwelcome.
"Ah, my darling..."
Behind them, the blood starts to pool, to drain towards the grates where it is not intermingled with wax.
Elisa's eyes are as sharp as ever--well, they are once she has a moment to focus them. "Yes," Elisa says. "I cannot call their presence to me, to speak. It is a pity... There is much we could have gained from one another."
"We shall have to find another way." She lifts a hand, high on Power, to touch Yuliana's cheek. "But do not worry. There shall be no escape into this place, for them."
<Pose Tracker> Yuliana Kafim has posed.
Yuliana is never alone. Soon, there will be nothing between them.
Now, Her gaze turns on Elisa, who is with her.
(Must always be with her.)
And Yuliana is glad to strengthen Elisa's considerable might. She delights in it, just as she delights in falling into Elisa when she is done, a familiar weight across her chest.
"Elya," she croons in turn, the one spot of warmth in the room all held in her smile. Her fingers play through Elisa's voluminous hair as she listens to her, head tilting as she nods. Her eyes flutter shut as she feels the crackling strength at Elisa's fingertips, nuzzling her cheek into her wife's hand. "Ahh..." The fins behind her ears flicker, happily.
Her smile spreads Cheshire-wide as her eyes crack open, again, endless green all veiled through her teal lashes as she looks up to Elisa. "Panoptes your vigilance, unceasing... my sanctuary is yours, now, and you create. Ah --"
Yuliana blinks, a shade of surprise crossing over her eyes, and her second gasp is more abrupt than the first. "Elya," she says, again, and her fingers trace at the back of her head. "Elya," a third time. And she forms a coherent thought in her mind, with effort: "What are we to do with the hungry dead?" ... well, mostly coherent.
<Pose Tracker> Elisa Kafim has posed.
Always.
Elisa holds Yuliana gladly, and hears that crooning. It is lovely, loving, lovable. "Ah, my Yuliana..."
That smile spreads, and Elisa smiles. "Always," she says, her vigilance unceasing, and then the second gasp. Elya, she says again, and then she asks the question-
"Well you should ask," Elisa says, "For ordinarily, the answer would be nothing at all."
She opens her stance, extending one arm to invite Yuliana into the hall, where they can speak without stumbling against ritual equipment. Whether Yuliana takes her invitation or not...
"The technology within that colony could be of great use to us. ...And they must be either stopped or controlled, one way or another. I could have offered them the chance to express their rage tangibly, against the proper targets, rather than the innocent. They could have offered me the technology within."
"But it is no matter. We shall have to find another way, both to gain and to prevent."
"But you did wonderful work, my darling, before they interrupted you," she assures Yuliana.
<Pose Tracker> Yuliana Kafim has posed.
Of course Yuliana takes her invitation; there is no invitation Elisa could make which Yuliana would want to refuse. She is Elisa's, after all.
(She steps over a pooling trail of blood on the way, and surely Elisa was instrumental in ensuring she didn't slip.)
Once they're safely in the hall, though, Yuliana's right back against Elisa again, all but hanging off her shoulders as she drapes into her wife. The tentacles behind Yuliana wrap about her wife's back, and there's no getting rid of her, now. "Their souls are damned," Yuliana's nose wrinkles, as she grouses about those ghosts. "They cannot be saved. They hold that technology hostage!"
She interrupts her pique to smile, though, looking up to Elisa. "Wasn't I, darling?" She asks, eyes shining. "And your medallions worked so well, boyevaya podruga! If they hadn't gotten in the way, we could have easily spirited all the helium-3 away! But... we were interrupted..." Yuliana pouts, when she comes to the fact that they didn't manage to steal all those tanks.
"... even so, having that fuel will be useful, don't you think?" Where those tanks went... well, Elisa knows.
<Pose Tracker> Elisa Kafim has posed.
Across the threshold and to the hall, where they will walk slowly. Elisa is in no particular hurry, but she will want to get Yuliana to a warmer place soon enough. She has little enough warmth to offer, despite all the candles and flame.
No, Elisa is quite chilly actually.
Elisa is glad to have Yuliana so close, and so entangled. But her objection is of course heard. "Of course," Elisa says. "It is most troublesome."
But she smiles back, when she sees those shining eyes. The praise for herself is noted, of course, but she knew that her medallions would work.
"Yes," Elisa agrees, smoothing over the matter of the interruption. "The fuel will be most useful, in the future." She considers, then, something else she was thinking about. "It is well that you were not vulnerable to the dead's assault. Even so, I wish for you to be careful, if you should return."
<Pose Tracker> Yuliana Kafim has posed.
Naturally Elisa is thinking of Yuliana's warmth, all clad in shining dark furs. She is warm where Elisa is cold, and as she settles into her wife's arms -- of course she would insist she carry her -- it is plainly obvious to the both of them.
Yuliana is so, so alive, beating heart and flushed cheeks and a chest which rises and falls in satisfyingly even rhythm.
(So mortal.)
"I'm glad," she smiles, reaching up with her own fingers to trace Elisa's cool cheek. Her head tilts, against Elisa's shoulder, expression obliging. "Of course," she assures her. "Anything you wish..." She would give her the world. Her caution cannot cost as much.
"There is time to fix Da Xukong, still," she assures her, smiling. "Jona seems in no hurry. If all is well, we will not be bothered by those hungry ghosts... of course I'll try to avoid them, zhenushka." She is trying to think cautiously, at least.
<Pose Tracker> Elisa Kafim has posed.
Elisa carries Yuliana as they go, and she is so, so... warm.
But Yuliana mentions time, with her sweet words. Elisa first responds to that assurance with a smile of her own, and then considers the next assurance. What it is that they wish to do...
"Very well," Elisa says. "Then repairs it shall be. But I will be watching, my darling, in my way." She considers. "While your nature shields you for a time from their influence... it may not be a perfect shield, on its own."
"Thus, if necessary, I will reclaim you. I know that you prefer to keep fighting, so I wished to ask you in advance to trust in my judgment as to when it is necessary, if you do not call to me first."
She will also have to prepare... another.
<Pose Tracker> Yuliana Kafim has posed.
"You're always so diligent, my protector," Yuliana smiles, when Elisa assures her she'll watch over her. Does she realise the extent of Elisa's gaze? ... at least, it seems a comfort.
"The disquiet dead cannot touch me," she assures Elisa. "It's just..." Her hand drops, a shade hesitant, to curl at the nape of Elisa's neck. "... I grow... stranger, when the empty spaces grow so loud. I am... more easily goaded to missteps. It's not fair..." When Newtypes access their powers in battle, after all, they're granted unnatural intuition to warn them of attacks before they come.
Yuliana got all the anger, and none of the forewarning.
She sighs, and sinks her weight against Elisa. (She is so, so trusting. Of Elisa, at least.) "So... perhaps it's best... yes, it's best if you keep an eye on me. Won't you?" She already declared it; Yuliana asks, anyway.
"Though... part of me wonders... if we shouldn't eat them whole. Such a flagrant display..." Yuliana shakes her head, a frown creasing her brow. "... but... I suppose it's too dangerous," she adds, before her wife can worry. "I know. I won't do anything unreasonable, Elya."
<Pose Tracker> Elisa Kafim has posed.
"I do my best."
Yes... "It is not fair in the least," Elisa says, "That they would use the depth of your communion against you in battle. It is terrible, and there will come a reckoning for it." After all; she knows why the empty spaces grow so loud, now.
But still, "I will," she says. "I will ensure that you are safe."
Then she smiles mysteriously, when Yuliana wonders and frowns, and surely there is something on her own mind to have such a reaction. "You understand me," she says. "Yes, it may become necessary. If they exceed their bounds..."
"This is why I will also be preparing Emptear. Should it become necessary, I will not ask that you remain away from the battle, my darling. I know your heart calls for action. I will send you back in your strongest armor yet."
<Pose Tracker> Yuliana Kafim has posed.
"That Federation man was so cruel, too," Yuliana pouts, when Elisa agrees on the inequities. "Telling me it would be a mercy to abandon me to a cell... the panopticon was awful, Elya! I'm glad he's dead." A light scowl: "If I weren't so occupied on my task, I would have liked to kill him myself."
She is still a spiteful creature, with no kindness in her heart for the confident John Hanna.
"My darling," all her kindnesses are for Elisa, instead, when she promises to keep her safe.
And at least her frown abates, seeing Elisa's smile -- though more to confusion, at first, with a curious and wordless prompting grunt. But Elisa has a plan, and once she hears it, that glowing smile returns to Yuliana's face again. (Someone else might call it sinister. Elisa could be no one else.)
"Boyevaya podruga!" She exclaims, warmly, naming Elisa as her ally in every battle, as all wives ought to be. "You are too kind to me... oh, but is it really all right to use my sacred robes just to annihilate the dead?" A touch of anxiety enters her voice, as she reaches up to brush her fingers into Elisa's hair. "I know these are worldly matters... I'm not asking too much of you, darling?"
And with that, Yuliana names Elisa the arbiter of Emptear's fate, judge and jury of what is worthy of their strongest assaults.
But she said it already, after all.
She grows so strange when she sees through the spaces where their souls ought to be...
<Pose Tracker> Elisa Kafim has posed.
"The world is better without such a man," Elisa agrees. "He was unworthy regardless of your direct attention."
Elisa cares even less for such men.
But there, that glowing smile that Elisa finds so beautiful, that she would never term in such a way as sinister. No...
Elisa is willing to be this arbiter. It is her role. It is what she promised.
"Worldly perhaps. But it may yet be that the ambitions of the dead stretch farther than simply to punish those who come close... in which case it will be vital that we strike them down."
"You do not ask too much. I am glad to give you this."
"Together, we shall prevail. As ever."
<Pose Tracker> Yuliana Kafim has posed.
"A man like that is worth nothing," Yuliana agrees, darkly, and with no empathy at all.
(That she was the Federation agent acting so cocky not so long ago goes entirely unaddressed, in her mind.)
"Ah..." Yuliana sighs, trailing a finger along Elisa's long ear, and her smile is relieved. Elisa's assurances -- her happiness with these actions -- it's worth more than all her fine gold jewelry put together. "You're always thinking ahead, Elya. Of course, it makes total sense... we should be ready for their transgressions. We are the ones who will save this world, after all..."
She settles in against Elisa's chest, nuzzling her face in against her neck. "Together," she promises, sweetly.
"All will be well."