2023-06-15: Meizun's Flavour Apocalypse Absolute Ranch Destruction
- Log: Meizun's Flavour Apocalypse Absolute Ranch Destruction
- Cast: Yuliana Kafim, Zoltan Akkanen
- Where: The Science Fortress Laboratory, Japan
- Date: 2023-06-15
- Summary: Yuliana goes on a chip run for Zoltan, while he's stuck sheltering at Koji's old lab. Is she being nice to him? Well, the jury's still out on that, but apparently some measure of effort is being made. They're still both terrible.
<Pose Tracker> Yuliana Kafim has posed.
Yuliana isn't constantly in residence, in the Science Fortress Laboratory. She, unlike these people, has a loving wife to go home to. (And her loving wife does get so distraught when she doesn't come home as planned...) But that doesn't mean she's never here, in this tower piercing up from the sea.
For instance, for this reason: "You have got to be fucking kidding me."
And: "I am NOT your goddamn delivery service."
Followed by: "I don't even think those things exist."
And finally: "I'M DOING THIS FOR ME"
So anyway, Yuliana just went to the ends of the fucking earth to get the shittiest possible bag of chips known to man, and she is devastated -- DEVASTATED -- that Meizun's Flavour Apocalypse Absolute Ranch Destruction exists, both as a concept and a capitalistic product.
She jumps out of her wanzer, cloak curling around her normal suit.
She throws the plastic bag full of these abominations at Zoltan's feet.
And the first words out of her mouth now she's back are, "I hope you're HAPPY."
<Pose Tracker> Zoltan Akkanen has posed.
Zoltan Akkanen was, sadly trapped in a prison. A technically inefficient prison that could take absolutely no time to bother escaping, especially when everyone else was so in and out that he barely needed someone to keep an eye on him.
The tower was a tall one, but realistically? It couldn't deserve to be called a prison by anyone determined.
The only real problem was that this place was more desirable than "home", considering what he's done.
Reasons including: "You're the one who asked for something outlandish."
Plus: "Oh, come on. Delivery service? If you were rated on that, you'd be out of a job before the week was over." Tentacles aside.
And: "They do. Those bastards up at Palau couldn't stop talking about them."
Silence for the last one. Let her dig her own grave.
And he waited for however long, grumbling to himself and bothering to work every so often on the stuff inside; The cleanup, the slow piecing together of making this place actually look somewhat decent, the occasional shooing of whatever birds decided to take their migratory journey at the start of June.
His sense of having somewhere clean was at least something keeping him busy.
The sight of the Wazner gives him pause; Will she? Or won't she?
She will.
"Yeah, 'course. You bought enough for a family." Giant big happy family! A person who tried to kill him, a person who kidnapped him, a person who deceived him, and some old dude who says he's a doctor when he yells louder than an opera singer.
He has the decency to stash them on a raised cupboard, taking two out of the bag and tossing one over. "If you're going to yell about something, indulge me." Absolute Ranch Destruction?
...Nothing like 'em, probably. A rip of the bag, popping one into his mouth.
Apocalyptic for the tastebuds.
<Pose Tracker> Yuliana Kafim has posed.
Yuliana can do whatever she puts her mind to, including, apparently, the world's worst chip run. That she's dug her own grave good and deep apparently goes RIGHT over her head.
... they're both internationally wanted criminals by this point, probably, but Yuliana's used to it at this point.
"Well I'm sure as hell not trekking all the way back to Helmajistan because you decided you didn't have enough of these disgusting things," which says fascinating things about how far out, exactly, this chip run took her.
The fact that she's been gone most of the day is probably completely coincidental and has nothing to do with going halfway across the globe for space chips.
(She'd think Koji would do better as an opera singer than a doctor, herself. Certainly it's a more noble profession.)
Zoltan is more thoughtful than Yuliana, at least, about stashing the damnable things. She catches the bag he tosses over, and holds it at arms length, as if it's a grenade which might explode at any moment. Her expression is deeply sceptical. "My body is a temple, thank you very much," she insists, with a haughty sniff.
But Zoltan... doesn't immediately die on shoving one in his mouth, so finally, after moments of ticking tension...
Yuliana opens up the bag and gingerly eats a chip.
"What the fuck."
She tries another.
"What the FUCK."
And another.
"HOW ARE THESE GOOD?!"
<Pose Tracker> Zoltan Akkanen has posed.
The world's worst chip run? There were worse, much worse. (In quality. In terms of quantity, this was more than enough. There's only so much you can do while being imprisoned.)
Most wanted, he thinks. Most wanted. That implies someone, somewhere wants him. ...Best not to think about how the person across from him has a wife. (Now that he thinks about it, has he even seen Yuli's wife? Maybe it's a delusion.) No reason to prod her over that.
"Helma- You sure went far for them." Not that he asked; Hell, he would've been fine if she went to like, Tokyo and found some regular chips with some Tarabaman Branding. Stickler for specifics, good to know. "Are you an idiot or just stubborn?" Okay, one prod.
That being said, there's a knowing smirk crawling onto his face at watching that damnable woman treat those chips so harshly. Note to self: Maybe find some other foul-sounding food to ask her to bring. ...And maybe some wine.
"A temple for what?" Okay, another prod. "Vagrants and octopi?" Those tentacles aren't going to leave his head. Yes, even with knowing how far back that smile of hers can go. It's the tentacles.
Mhm, good stuff. Another one. And another. They're the sort of taste where you can understand why they're made. Certainly not for long-term eating, but when has anything Apocalyptic ever been deserving of being repeatedly used?
Regular thoughts of comet-tossing nonwithstanding.
"Because unlike some people I know, they know how to cook." Being a giant company that puts out the occasional weird flavor helps. "But-" Chomp. "Wait, you seriously went out for that and nothing else?"
<Pose Tracker> Yuliana Kafim has posed.
Yuliana assuredly has a wife. She's absolutely stunning. Did you know she was an Olympic gold medalist, in her youth? It's all public record.
"You were very specific," Yuliana insists, "so how was I to rub your nose in it if I brought back any old thing?" 'Stubborn'. The answer is 'stubborn'.
She huffs, though, as Zoltan insults the conceit of her temple. "I don't expect you to understand the gifts I bear," she says, archly, "nor the charity I offer this world."
She might have been more huffy about it, if not for the fact that
the flavour explosion
is REAL.
"Is this person you're thinking of yourself?" She lances back, as she leans on the counter. Nom, nom. These chips have no business being as good as they are. She buries herself in nibbling chips, for a moment, even in the wake of that last question.
"Haa..." Yuliana sighs, once she realises that lying will be too much of a pain. "Let's just say G-Hound gave me some very specific accommodations, when they apprehended me. It's hardly the first time I've been imprisoned, but... it doesn't escape me that's how this whole thing looks, to you."
... this isn't the first time Yuliana's taken a longer trip to get Zoltan something while he's stuck sheltering in place. It turns out that the nearest chain grocery store to that hideout they tucked him into wasn't exactly just in town. The town was way too small, for that.
"I don't know," she shrugs, and chomps another chip. "Maybe I'm just trying to ease my own conscience... nothing to do with you." Even though the entire issue is how Zoltan feels in this extremely half-assed 'imprisonment'.
<Pose Tracker> Zoltan Akkanen has posed.
Public record of youth? Ask Zoltan where he's been in his youth. No place to learn about people being so athletic and perfect except for one man. ...One man who he'd rather forget, thank you very much.
Simple. "You finding something better, of course." See? Simple. Just go above and beyond for Zoltan, of all people. "Do I look like a picky eater?" YES.
The mention of gifts brings out a stifled snort from him. Don't bite the hand that feeds you and all, but...The sheer irony is obvious. "Rude, aren't you? Body's a temple that can't be understood. Sounds a bit self-conceited." Granted.
...Haman Karn pops to mind for a sliver. Nah. Too dissimilar.
He's just popping a chip into his mouth every so often, taking the time to enjoy each and every Apocalyptic Crash Of Supreme(tm) Ranch Flavor. "A soldier, cooking in space?" Hmm. "I could try for something, but you try telling me that anyone here would want something from me." Especially food. Especially food.
...Oh. Oh, she did. He processes that answer in silence, hemming and hawing back and forth, eyebrows raising and falling while trying to figure out this situation. "...Thanks, at least." It's the smallest bit of gratitude he could give, stifling that small bit of compassion under three whole chips stuffed in his mouth. Chomp, crush, chomp. Ow, ow, one jabbed at his palate ow okay there we go.
"Don't try to butter it up. As much as I know how easy I could walk out..." A sharp jerk towards the exit. Yeah, he could.
But why?
"Heh. Repentance? For what, being who you are?" A shot in the dark. "Who's going to say you're forgiven for hoisting a wanted murderer while bringing along a crew that wants to steal back what got stolen from me?" And what was after? Him, back there? Back up there? He's already wrecked the Neo Zeong II. Twice. Home? Bah.
Like the concept of a home could even exist for him.
<Pose Tracker> Yuliana Kafim has posed.
"Yes." Yuliana doesn't need to be psychic to give Zoltan the answer to his pickiness; she just needs to be sassy.
And apparently she is.
"Oh, I am very much a conceit," she says, vaguely. She doesn't expect him to appreciate just what she's told him: that she is the embodiment of a figurative comparison between two vastly dissimilar concepts.
(She's underestimating him. Tell a story he doesn't know, huh?)
She waves a chip at him, and says: "I doubt Ritechka can eat in that body of hers, so you may well have a shot, as far as cooking's concerned." And then she takes her potato chip... and eats it.
Nom!
"Y'welcome," she replies, half muttered into this bag of apocalyptic flavour, deeply embarrassed that she's been caught going to any lengths at all for some Newtype.
She smiles, and shakes her head. "I neither need nor ask repentance for my existence," she assures him. "I am perfect as I am. But... it's not like theft and murder have ever bothered me. A distressing amount of my work with the REA was assassination, you know." Was! She got out.
"But when I left," there it is, "the Republic was quite eager to scapegoat all that onto me and mine. Well, let's just say that I have no interest in watching the Sleeves place everything they had you do on your shoulders, so they can throw you under the bus and keep on with their frank bullshit." Is she projecting? Obviously. Yuliana is constantly projecting. She might not be entirely wrong, anyway.
She shakes her head, and nibbles another chip. "... maybe all those things you said weren't so easy for me to just shake off... the worst thing is, there are some places where we might even be a little similar. I just happened to decide you weren't dealt a fair hand, and that bothers me... that's all."
<Pose Tracker> Zoltan Akkanen has posed.
Che. Was she wrong? ...Yeah. He doesn't have the capacity to care enough to correct him. "Suit yourself. It's your trips you're doing." Picky eater or not, food was food.
Quality of it notwithstanding. At least being someone of rank gave him condiments. Imagine that, spices on food! Better than Britannian Cuisine already.
True to her thoughts, the conceit completely skips over his head. A self-effacting temple, that's all that was. A shrug brought forth with that statement, grumbling to himself. ...Wasn't he one, too? Maybe. Or maybe he's overthinking it.
"Really? I can't say I'll cook anything half-decent, but, well." Food's going to run out eventually, and it'll pass the time. Self-absorptive reasoning, but it's something to do. What's he going to do, escape back to the Sleeves? Hell, he might as well ask to be brainwashed. Again.
However, recognizing the gravitas of being thanked by someone who so clearly loathes Newtypes? "If only I could record that. It'd help as a sleep aid." Never change.
Oh, well. Good for her. Good for her that she's fine with herself in any capacity. GOOD. FOR. HER. "Sounds like 'em." Duh. What government wouldn't want someone who could kill people and dump their scapegoats on them?
But listening on, Zoltan did nothing but crack an eyebrow upwards. "...Pff- Pffhahahahaha..." Strangely hilarious. Throw him? HIM? Under the bus? Be pitied like this for what, because he was "thrown under"? "Don't be an idiot, ahaha...Place? I was there because they couldn't just toss away a body after Full Frontal got christiened."
Oversharing much?
"...So you are admitting what you are." Another chip down the hole. "Not sure why you keep harping about Newtypes and all that garbage, but you're not stabbing them on sight. That an improvement?"
<Pose Tracker> Yuliana Kafim has posed.
"I've heard it said that the first step to doing something well is doing it poorly," Yuliana points out, with a dry tone. "But even if you've no talent for it yourself, you may discover you enjoy some foods which haven't been processed to Hell and back. ... maybe." She can't discount the very real possibility that there is no hope for Zoltan.
She pouts, and points out, when he wishes for a recording device: "No one would ever believe you." Even if it's her voice, clearly it would just be a fake.
"If you're not important to them," she shrugs, "it's easier for them to blame you, wouldn't you say?" Obviously, it's uncomfortable thinking of humans being created to replace other humans, but... there's no way she can look at Zoltan and just say he's a copy of Char. All the bits are wrong.
So he's not a clone.
Obviously.
Chomp. "... I'll admit that people like you frequently have more a sorry lot than I had sympathy for. You may be -- deeply imperfect, but it was -- convenient I had people to hate, in the lab." Chomp, chomp. She has one too many teeth, and that one fang is sharper than the rest of her chompers. "There are, certain similarities... and we were all labrats."
Yuliana frowns, down at her chip. "Dr. Devi... led me to think I should be angry at the Awakened, early on. Well, I had much to be angry about... it's not so easy for me to shake that off, even now I've learned she was just manipulating me to keep me from hating the doctors. That was eleven years, you see. And..."
Her eyes shut, briefly.
"... She is... unfond, of sensitive souls. I've always felt Her anger, through the cracked edges about you... so you see, naturally it made sense, to me." Whether she still feels that pique now...
Chomp.
<Pose Tracker> Zoltan Akkanen has posed.
"And when's the step from doing something poorly to doing it well?" Not when literally everything about him is said to be average on a Cyber-Newtype scale. Average piloting, average intuition, average everything except the scars of learning about Char. ...Average in the scale of Cyber-Newtype, though.
"I wish." Fake or not, that'd imply people cared if it was faked. Even if it did sound fake, it'd still rattle some people. Right?
"Not until Jona hijacked that machine, no." Being the only person to really know how to pilot it without going crazy, well. "...That being said, he's going insane from it, so I guess I'm still the only one!" Job security! Right!? ...Right?
He's still the only one who can call themselves an imperfect clone and others back him up on it, compared to how the Sleeves villify Full Frontal. Bah.
And one of those above average capabilities? Spotting that fang and pretending that nope, it was completely normal to have a fang there. Yup. Completely. Chomping on the next chip with a distinct lack of fang, yup! "So basically. If you're actually not lying for the first time in forever."
Which was a lie in of itself.
"I'm being..." Geh. That word. "Pitied." ...For what? For being who he was? For being so damn unlucky? A flare of discontent, clicking his tongue as he took out that self-same frustration with a harsher chomp of a chip.
"Be honest with your bullshit." Pitied? Him? For what? Just because they're in the same situation? That was it? That happened repeatedly. People in the same side. Similar sides. All sides. Zeon and Feds.
They all died fighting each other.
<Pose Tracker> Yuliana Kafim has posed.
"When others recognise your talent," which isn't the answer one is supposed to give, to that sort of question, but it's the answer Yuliana gives.
She frowns, as she thinks of Jona. More contemplative than horrified, she says: "I wonder how long he'll last... or whether he'll be worth anything by the time they drag him out of there. It's a little hard for me to remember, but I think he rather wanted to kill me, last we fought... I can't imagine why he was so cross. I was... compromised, at the time." Brainwashed. Anyway.
Yuliana contemplates her chip, as Zoltan spells it out.
"More or less," she shrugs, admitting the piteous nature of the Newtype. "It's cruel to you, I'm sure, but it's easier for me. Pity isn't so far from contempt... do you expect I'll turn around and love your ilk, just like that? After so long? I am... trying, to see the worth of you," she adds, with a wounded little sting of emphasis, and it sounds genuine enough.
If it wasn't, who could say? The nothing surrounding her abjures all truth and insight.
"You're worthy enough for me to expend some effort on, anyway," she adds, scowling. "If you're so fussed about how I see you, get it through your thick brain that I'd not bother for half the sensitive souls on this good green Earth. I would... like, to see something in you. You're more salvageable than a lot of them."
<Pose Tracker> Zoltan Akkanen has posed.
"Long shot." The sort of utilitarian answer wasn't anything new to grace his ears; What's better is that it wasn't followed up by some demeaning variant of 'you'd know this if you bothered to be better' or something from any of the Sleeves Higher Ups.
"If he's mentally strong enough? A few days of counseling. If not? He'll be lucky if they can't just use a broom and a dustpan." Not that he ever knew the consequences first-hand, but the memory of that scientist oh-so-gleefully explaining what might happen never faded from his memory. Damn bastard. "When has someone not wanted to kill you?" He may be biased. Just a tad.
...Chips are nearly empty, but his self-control holds.
"If you said anything related to loving Newtypes, I'd be the first to knock you out and get Rita." RITA, of all people. RITA! "Good to hear, though." Means he's getting his gilded cage for some more time, until a lead's found. If a lead is found. He's not too optimistic, but hey.
He can't complain about free room and board. Some people would kill for less. Much less.
"Half of people only on this planet? God save whomever's in the stars or over at Jupiter, then." A noncommitive shrug. Jovians are obviously outside of her purview. "Not that I'd like to know what you see, if anything." He's made it this far.
"Now come on. Any other news?" He's nearly finished with his chips as is.
<Pose Tracker> Yuliana Kafim has posed.
"Heh." Yuliana grins, at the image of Jona being swept up like so much dust. "At least then he and Ritechka would match, mm?" It's a terrible thing to joke about!
She's still a terrible person!!
"But you know, plenty of people don't want to kill me. Well," she pauses, "my wife's never tried to kill me. Rather the opposite!" Elisa keeps saving her from getting killed. Despite her best efforts, sometimes, it seems like. "It's hardly my fault if so many other people are unreasonable." Killing her is unreasonable..?
Well, yeah, a little. Even if one considers Yuliana a high criminal, they do make courts, for that. She can be right even though she's terrible. That's basically her entire modus operandi.
"God forbid I startle you two into forgetting your grudge for five seconds," she remarks, raising a brow. "I could never bring you such horror. You'll just have to deal with the gradual process."
(That she frames it as a process she's going through is, in fact, entirely deliberate. It costs her nothing for Zoltan to think she's more sympathetic than she is. ... besides, she is fond of him.)
"Fuck the stars, and fuck Jupiter," Yuliana snorts, derisively. "And what I see -- and what I See -- is not for your eyes. But I'll tell you a little..."
Yuliana still has an ex-Intelligence officer with her, in her Castle; even without the REA's resources, she has interesting gossip she can share with Zoltan, about the state of the world. It's extremely functional, even if it is all deeply biased.
Maybe she's making some measure of an effort, anyway.