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*'''Log: The monstrous beings we are were created in the endless cycle of war''' *'''Cast:''' [[Character :: Yuliana Dispersal]], [[Character :: Ennil El]], [[The_Nega_Force#Wen_Yuan|Wen Yuan]] *'''Where: Lilac, Saints Island''' *'''Date: 2022-11-24''' *'''Summary''': ''Wen drags Yuliana into a random bar to save her from her pre-wedding anxiety attack, and there, they discover Ennil. Ennil gets to know a bit more about Yuliana and her work -- both through her own words, and the words of her lieutenant, Wen Yuan. Wen subsequently invites Ennil to join her for the wedding in the most disastrous way possible.'' ---- [[Category:Logs]] [[Category:Phase 1, Turn 2]] <Pose Tracker> Yuliana Dispersal has posed. <poem> "THEY WERE SUPPOSED TO ARRIVE ''FIVE DAYS AGO''" The woman in the dark suit making an unholy racket in the street is one Yuliana Dispersal, nominally a Captain, though she's on leave at present. Her First Lieutenant, Wen Yuan, has taken the day off before the wedding to keep her in sorts too -- she ''is'' her bridesmaid, after all. Yuliana gestures, wildly, the volume in her lungs forcing all her punctation out. Wen -- in a lighter blue suit of her own, a few inches shorter, with short pink hair and red eyes which are clearly cybernetic -- reaches out to put her hands on either sode of Yuliana's shoulders, shaking her, just so. "Calm ''down,'' Captain," she issues her, firmly. And Yuliana at least quiets her tone, but perhaps it's just so she can growl: "I'm going to ''kill'' those sons of --" "Come on, enough of that," Wen grasps her shoulders, firmly. "We're taking a moment to breathe, Captain." She looks behind her, to the island's storefronts. "... in here," she decides, on a whim, grasping Yuliana's darker wrist and dragging her in towards a bar. "I can't even drink, Lettu," Yuliana grumbles. "Yeah, but ''I'' can," Wen retorts, with all the sass of someone who's had to deal with Yuliana's anxiety all day. </poem> <Pose Tracker> Ennil El has posed. <poem> Lilac is a small, comfortable place. The bar mostly serves as a respite from the aggressively commercial paradise of Saint's Island. It has more tables than it'll ever fill on most nights, and the bar is well stocked but equally humble. There are a few folks in their own corners, regulars taking their shade from a tropical day. And at that bar, in a cute seafoam dress, moving easily from one end to the other as she cleans and rearranges a few glasses, is Ennil El. There's a very soft chime as Yuliana and her current attendant come through the doors, but it's enough to immediately draw her eye, and she gives the two a warm smile. "Looks like you've been busy. Come find a seat, I'll take care of you." Ennil's the only person on staff at the moment - Lilac mostly runs on whether or not she feels available - but everyone else has been served and she can certainly spare some time for these two. Especially given she knows exactly who one of them is. </poem> <Pose Tracker> Yuliana Dispersal has posed. <poem> Ennil has Yuliana at a disadvantage; ''she'' doesn't know her from a hole in the wall. But there's no hole in existence she can see, either, looking at her, so she's better able to take Ennil's hospitality at face value. It's Wen who speaks up first, though -- she knows Yuliana is agitated, so she easily takes point. "Thank you very much," she smiles, with softly accented gentleness. "We'll just be over here, okay?" She tucks them into a booth near the bar -- a decent ways away from the locals tucked away in their corners. "Here," she offers, just the same, picking up some menus and passing one over to Yuliana. "Fine, fine," Yuliana grumbles, glancing down the list. She's more pleasant when she looks to Ennil, at least, smiling to her. "I'll have a virgin pina colada, then -- thanks." "Whiskey for me," Wen adds. "There's no need to mix it." </poem> <Pose Tracker> Ennil El has posed. <poem> "You got it." Ennil smiles, spinning back to the shelves with a twirl worthy of the Galactic Fairy and picking out something relatively local for Wen. Yuliana's order doesn't take much more work, and Ennil El helps herself to a maraschino cherry as she's letting things blend, keeping Yuliana in the corner of her eye as she nibbles on the fruit. "Ennil El," she smiles as the glasses find their way in front of their respective customers, "Vacation? Or is there a big occasion coming up? We're not a big tourist joint, so I can always tell when someone's had a long day." She gently presses a finger onto the pineapple slice garnishing Yuliana's cup. "And if you need something to eat as well, let me know. Since you got dragged in here, and all~" </poem> <Pose Tracker> Yuliana Dispersal has posed. <poem> "Hmm? Well, I suppose I ''am'' on vacation already," Yuliana laughs, a little weary, because she's been working far too hard to call it a break. "Actually, I'm getting married tomorrow, but the supplies I ordered from around here ''still'' haven't arrived..." "We're working on it," Wen interjects, seeing the twitch at the corner of Yuliana's lip and cutting in before she can say something unkind. "Quite," Yuliana agrees, with a puff of a sigh. "In any case, I'm Yuliana Dispersal -- this here is Wen Yuan, my bridesmaid," she gestures, to the pinkhaired soldier opposite her. "And you know, something to eat sounds ''wonderful,'' actually," she adds, with relief. "Would you happen to have any otak-otak on hand, I wonder?" She glances aside to Wen, and explains: "It's a cake made of fish paste, spices and coconut milk. People are experimenting with ground cricket instead of ground fish these days, but a lot of people still swear by the original." She laughs, and gestures, hand coming to rest on her colourful yellow scarf. "Not that you could really call any one recipe the 'original', when it's spread through so many islands by now..." </poem> <Pose Tracker> Ennil El has posed. <poem> Ennil's eyes widen, on cue. "Married? Oh wow! And here the most excitement I've had this week was a Sheryl concert." She giggles softly at the exasperation, but only for a moment -- careful not to make Yuliana the butt of the joke. "I'm sure it's fine. The important thing is the bond between the two of you, isn't it? They'll appreciate your effort, either way." She nods at the introductions, offering Wen a pleasant wave without diverting her attention all that much. "Yuliana Dispersal... And Wen Yuan!" A quick glance towards the back. "You know, let me see - I think we can make that happen for you." But she doesn't move right away, letting Yuliana finish her thought. "I promise, it's fish around here. We're still doing pretty well for ourselves, thankfully." And with that, she vanishes for a bit, though it's not long before Yuliana has her snack, gently steamed and set out in front of her. There's a friendly smirk on Ennil's face as she rejoins the table. "Maybe you're more local than I thought, with an order like that. You spend a lot of time in the islands on work?" </poem> <Pose Tracker> Yuliana Dispersal has posed. <poem> "She does," Yuliana agrees, comfortably. "And she's working very hard, too..." Her assurance is vague, but warm, and the smile she wears to speak of her fiancee is open in its affection. As Ennil disappears, Wen asks: "How ''do'' you know so much about all the food you eat?" And Yuliana replies: "It's just a personal interest of mine. You can tell a lot about an area by their food." She brightens when Ennil returns with her fish cakes -- which, fun fact, look ''astoundingly'' similar to brains, and that's the literal meaning of the dish's name. Digging in, she declares: "What a wonderful combination! The fish you've used agrees completely with these spices..!" Yuliana takes another mouthful, and smiles, tapping her fingers to her cheek. "Actually, I'm Ambonese by birth," she explains -- and expects that Ennil will recognise the island as Indonesian, so she doesn't bother with that part. "After the colony drop on Sydney caused all those floods, I moved to Makassar -- of course, then Second Impact pushed the issue even harder, so we moved to my mother's homeland after that." </poem> <Pose Tracker> Ennil El has posed. <poem> "Pretty close after all, then! I actually grew up in a chilly little corner of Zaftra, but... who wants to be cold all the time? So when the previous owner decided to give this place up, I had enough packed away to pick it up for myself. I mostly do contract work, so I need something to keep me busy between jobs, you know?" The slow smile and twinkle of recognition are another pose Ennil's practiced. "And it's a good excuse to meet people. Mostly soldiers, these days. I have a lot of friends in the Federation! You know, I'd completely dismissed it, but -- there can't really be a ''Captain'' Dispersal who's totally unrelated, right?" She chuckles, softly. "Your name's come up. They were very concerned about you, but it looks like you're doing pretty well!" Eight certainly had... ''expressed concern'' regarding Yuliana Dispersal, hadn't she? </poem> <Pose Tracker> Yuliana Dispersal has posed. <poem> "Ah, just where I moved to! My mother comes from Chukotka," or the Chukotka Autonomous Okrug, a sparsely-populated district of Zaftra which has fallen into some disrepair over the years, "so I spent my teenage years getting acquainted with ''snow.'' I quite like the cold now, actually," she asides, smiling. "You always used to complain about it," Wen asides, dry. "I'm allowed to change my mind!" Yuliana pouts. She polishes off her otak-otak -- it's best hot, as far as she's concerned, and these are good fish cakes -- and reaches for her virgin cocktail, to sip at it through the cheerful straw. "Mmm?" She hums, around the object, before she straightens up a little to tilt her head at Ennil. "My, my, my reputation precedes me! Should I be concerned?" She asks, a shade teasing, as her eyelids veil over her jealous green gaze. "You're quite right, of course -- I'm a special operative with the REA. I've been serving for the past nine years. I hadn't thought to pull rank, given I'm on leave right now to sort out my wedding..." She gestures, all too casual. "I don't much like standing over civilians with that sort of thing, unless I'm having to operate in some official capacity. It's way too stiff for me!" </poem> <Pose Tracker> Ennil El has posed. <poem> "Funny how that works out, isn't it? Like we want what we don't have." There's a wry little smile at that, and a little giggle at Wen's teasing. "Oh, not at all! Nothing that would trouble me, certainly." Which is also true. She's not Yuliana's usual prey. "It just sounded like things had gone pretty badly, so I wouldn't have expected anyone caught up in all that to be on their feet in time to plan a whole wedding!" She hardly moves as Yuliana's attention shifts to her, but there is a moment, just a brief flick in those deep blues, and then her gaze slides back into a smooth slide across the room, as if she's checking on the other patrons. "Well, I hope you can relax a little here! You know, some nights, it's slow enough I just book the whole place myself and spend my time with a good friend~ If you like the atmosphere, I could leave you a card and you can call ahead for a little time away. A nice table for two, now that you have someone special to share it with!" </poem> <Pose Tracker> Yuliana Dispersal has posed. <poem> Nothing that would trouble her, a woman who doesn't trouble Yuliana's mind... Yes, it's an interesting way to put it. "I'm ''very'' resilient," she assures Ennil, smiling. "Besides -- for all it's stressful, it's somewhat comforting, arranging a wedding. I've made it very clear there's to be no fuss or fighting interrupting the ceremony... well, you can imagine that for a soldier, being able to relax is something of a luxury." She looks out over the Lilac, and turns back to Ennil, smiling still. "But this ''is'' a rather relaxing little spot," she agrees, and she sounds perfectly warm. "Perhaps I'll have to take you on that... Ennil, right?" Yuliana presses her fingers to her cheek, as she tilts her head; now her bangs have been clipped away, the scar on the left side of her face is clear to see. "You're very kind. We'd reimburse you appropriately, of course! I know how much an evening's profits can mean, in this sort of business." </poem> <Pose Tracker> Ennil El has posed. <poem> Ennil grins, slipping behind the bar just long enough to come back with a little card and push it over to Yuliana. "Glad to hear it! I keep this place up with my other job just fine, but every bit helps." She gives a soft sigh of concern, though, perfectly timed with Yuliana's little gesture. "I can imagine! Is that something you really have to worry about -- trouble at a wedding, of all things?" The question is entirely sincere. "Though I suppose it wouldn't be the first time - that Celestial Being business and all - but who would want to do something like that to ''you''?" Ennil can actually think of a few people, of course. </poem> <Pose Tracker> Yuliana Dispersal has posed. <poem> Yuliana tucks the card into the interior pocket of her suit, where it will be safe. "Much obliged!" She chirps, cheerfully. (Wen glances over curiously at it, too, but she's a bit occupied with her whiskey at the moment. She is Having A Break from managing Yuliana's stress now someone else is engaging her. Shhh.) Yuliana sighs herself, though, a shade beleagured, when Ennil asks about the safety of her wedding. (Give her credit: her smile doesn't even crack when Ennil brings up her friends in Celestial Being.) "Ahh, you see, special operations is a division which doesn't always make ''friends,''" she says, with vague regret. "So I've made more than my share of enemies, over the years... it's not impossible some of them might do something as callous as target a wedding, knowing it's mine." She shrugs, thumbing at the straw of her virgin pina colada, absently. "Unfortunately," and she does sound bothered, "I'm rather good at my job, you see. Really, there's nothing else someone like me could do..." Her gaze veils, again, but less in mystery and more in downcast reminiscence. </poem> <Pose Tracker> Ennil El has posed. <poem> "Oh, I see." Ennil mirrors Yuliana's downcast, though with that warm customer service smile. "That's pretty unfortunate, so it's good to find happiness where you can." Yuliana's comment, though, hits on a genuine melancholy in Ennil. Feeling trapped by the things that were given to you... "You know, I don't think that's necessarily a bad thing." She tilts her head back a bit and sighs. "We aren't just our job descriptions, after all. You're putting time and effort into more than just that -- and there's clearly someone that appreciates that about you! So even if you feel like it'll always be part of your life, it doesn't have to be the ''only'' thing." She leans back, resting her hands on a table behind her in an easy slouch. "You're still a human being, after all." </poem> <Pose Tracker> Yuliana Dispersal has posed. <poem> "You're quite right," Yuliana begins to agree, comfortably, her companionable smile returning to her. For most of Ennil's reassurance, she is set at ease. Then Ennil adds that one -- last -- detail, and Yuliana's fingers tighten, around her glass, her smile growing closed-lipped as her teeth press together. She feels the material splintering in her grasp, and closing her eyes, she takes a breath and releases her grip before she shatters the glass entirely. "How wonderful you think so," she says, through a fixed smile and hands which fold too tightly over each other. The thing she is covering -- the thing her stiffened tone and tight fingers cannot quite obscure -- It's painful. </poem> <Pose Tracker> Ennil El has posed. <poem> Ennil El nods softly as Yuliana starts to agree with her, happy to see her brightening. There's no reason they have to be enemies, as long as she can just keep an eye out -- keep her attention off the people Ennil cares about. Maybe this wedding will help improve things, and she won't have to worry at all. And then -- There's a ''crack''. It's not the one that she hears, though a lifetime of observation means that she does catch the tension in Yuliana's forearm. Her own body tenses in reflexive anxiety. And she's moving, leaning in to take care of the broken glass -- though she stops herself halfway, puzzled by her awareness of the problem. Because she's not feeling anything at all from Yuliana, hasn't been the whole time. So why is there a pit in her stomach? </poem> <Pose Tracker> Yuliana Dispersal has posed. <poem> "Sorry, sorry," Yuliana smooths things over, pushing the cracked glass away. "My fingers must have twitched -- it's just an unfortunate affliction of soldiers, you see. I'll pay for it, of course." They're very pretty excuses -- and give her credit, she does manage to make them sound mostly natural. She's lying, of course. She's a very good liar, as it happens, even if her grief leaks in through her ragged edges. Wen glances to her, and Yuliana assures her: "I'm fine." She tells her so easily, so naturally, that it must be something she's been saying for years. </poem> <Pose Tracker> Ennil El has posed. <poem> Ennil sweeps the glass from the table smoothly, twisting it slightly in her hand to inspect the damage. "It's perfectly alright. I'm glad you weren't upset." She looks up, into Yuliana's eyes - then back down to the glass. "I'd like to make sure you leave having had a nice night, though. Especially since I'd like to see you come back!" She steps back, and gives a little apologetic bow. "I'll get this out of the way, and if you'd like a replacement for the drink - it's on me. Since you're replacing the glass and all." She sweeps a glance over to Yuliana, and then another over to Wen, meeting her eyes and trying to get her read on the situation. Yuliana's still giving her nothing... </poem> <Pose Tracker> Yuliana Dispersal has posed. <poem> Yuliana meets Ennil's eyes, and -- she ''is'' troubled, as much as she's trying to obscure it. She's a green-eyed monster, but... Being a monster isn't always easy. Wen is sitting by Yuliana, so there's nothing coming from ''her,'' either -- though she shoots Ennil a sympathetic look. "Of course," Yuliana allows, sinking into her chair. "You're too kind." It's a statement with more than one meaning, in this situation. </poem> <Pose Tracker> Ennil El has posed. <poem> Ennil's good at this part of things. The glass vanishes, and there's another on the table as quickly as she's able. The tension from before is gone, smothered again under that affable customer service persona. There is an extra slice of pineapple, though. "It's a weakness," she admits, cheerily. "But it's useful, in this line of work. People come in here to get away from things." She keeps her eyes on Yuliana, still trying to gauge her feelings in that simple, human way. "I hope your wedding is lovely. Genuinely -- and I'd love to meet her, sometime. The person you care about so much." </poem> <Pose Tracker> Yuliana Dispersal has posed. <poem> Yuliana is... certainly more downcast, in the wake of that cracking glass. She could blame Ennil for her temerity, she supposes, but -- a normal bartender from the islands is really the precise sort of person Yuliana has sympathy for. And it's not really Ennil's fault she's upset, as much as it would be easy to lay the fault at her feet. If she weren't so positively-inclined towards her -- well, Rena is an excellent example of what happens when ''another'' sort of person makes this slip. But really, the person to blame for that phrase being upsetting... Yuliana has ever been the chthonic woman of their match, closer to earth, tied to its ways and its customs. She's the one who cares so much for all this tradition. She's the one who called herself an abomination, when she was trying to explain her existence to her Blue Cosmos parents. Yuliana reaches out, and takes the new glass, delicately pulling it towards her. "She's stunning," she says, quietly, and the warmth can't help but return to her voice, speaking of Elisa. "She's so certain about everything... really, I rely on her. Sometimes... sometimes, I..." Her voice trembles, and she covers it up by sipping the replacement drink. "It's really very good," Yuliana says, instead. </poem> <Pose Tracker> Ennil El has posed. <poem> "I think the people we love most are always stunning," Ennil admits. "Because you're important to them, and you can't help but see that." Being able to see Yuliana's scars isn't anything special. She can't hide them as easily as she used to. Ennil knows what that's like. "But I'm glad you're enjoying the drink. You're welcome to come back anytime." </poem> <Pose Tracker> Yuliana Dispersal has posed. <poem> "True," Yuliana agrees, easily enough. She takes a breath, and another sip. "And no one has ever cared for me the way she has... I could do nothing but love her." She seems to think that's a normal thing to say. When Yuliana finishes up her drink, Wen volunteers: "Captain, do you want to start heading out to our next visit? I'll settle things here and catch up." Or, rather transparently, 'do you want some time alone', because she's worked with Yuliana for years now. "Sure, Lettu," Yuliana nods, addressing Wen with that Indonesian slang for her lieutenant's rank, as she straightens up. She looks back to Ennil, and smiles -- a little more wan, but nice enough. "Thanks for your hospitality. You have a lovely little venue, here." She picks herself up, and leaves the bar. She does not slam the door. She's a very civilised monster. Wen pulls out her purse, and hands over the gilla -- plus a little more, for Ennil's trouble. Now Yuliana has left, the emotional tenor from her is concerned but still quite caring; she's not a particularly sensitive person, but she isn't notably closed-off, either. She could be any random person from the street. "Are you all right?" She asks, as she hands it over. "The Captain just has moods like that, sometimes... ahh, it's not really my story to get into, but you probably just struck a nerve." She smiles, reassuringly, and says: "I don't think she meant to scare you, though." And she actually ''is'' trying to be reassuring, saying that, even as her cyborg's gaze whirrs and clicks as her strange eyes focus in on Ennil. </poem> <Pose Tracker> Ennil El has posed. <poem> Ennil smiles, taking the lieutenant's kindness easily enough. Making a fuss about the extra money would probably just make her feel guiltier. "I'm quite alright," she says, with a nod and a warm smile. "I meant what I said. It's important to me that this is a space for people to get away from the things eating them." Still, she can't help but give a nervous little titter at Wen's reassurance. "Was it that obvious? It's fine -- she was perfectly polite about it. I was mostly worried she'd injured herself! That crackling noise really startled me." She'd heard it so clearly, even from a distance. She takes a deep breath and slips a hand through her hair. "I appreciate you being here, though. It probably made it easier for her to not be self-conscious, having someone she knew around." </poem> <Pose Tracker> Yuliana Dispersal has posed. <poem> Wen laughs, a hand coming up to bury in her pink hair once she's put her wallet away again. "Sorry, but I've gotten good at reading people over the years. My eyes are pretty sharp, haha... but don't worry," she gestures, open-palmed. "If you weren't serving people like us, I'm sure no one would have noticed!" She shrugs, planting her elbow on the table, her chin on the heel of her hand. "Don't worry about it, y'know? The Captain breaks things all the time. The really surprising thing is she didn't just throw it across the room!" Wen laughs it off like it's nothing, tilting her head. "I guess she was trying to keep a lid on things for your sake, huh?" She doesn't elect to bring up the public chastising Yuliana received for losing her cool in public after Torrington. Either Ennil knows, or she doesn't. It would be unkind to relitigate it, Wen thinks. "Ahh, I wish I could say that I helped, but..." Wen lifts a hand, gesturing, so-so. "I had to absolutely cajole her for her to even accept my help with the wedding! The Captain's always been someone who prefers to support us rather than receive support herself." A delicate pause, and she adds: "Well, me and Parminder, anyway... ahh, she's just a really private person. I suppose she relies on the Major more than any of us, since he's always calling her in for meetings. The chain of command, you know..." Wen frowns, briefly, and she ''does'' have negative feelings about Yuliana relying on Major Pham, but she doesn't voice them so plainly. Perhaps she's just bothered at not being able to help more. She does seem like that sort of person. </poem> <Pose Tracker> Ennil El has posed. <poem> There's a nervous little shrug, as Ennil tips her head a bit. "Well, you know. I didn't mention it, but that other job of mine - I'm a Vulture, actually - so, stuff like that? I hardly notice. You have to get used to working with all kinds of people." She smiles. "I don't think it actually changes much. Though I guess she might feel differently..." She reaches behind her, finding her grip on a chair and spinning it around enough to set herself down, putting herself on Wen's eye-level. "Oh, she's like that, huh?" Ennil chuckles. "I kind of envy her. I'm definitely the type who's used to relying on others. Still -- having somebody who sticks by you matters. I believe that." The way Wen talks about their 'major'... "Hmmm... Yeah. That's gotta be rough. Especially when you feel like..." She hems over wording for a moment. "All that responsibility must be rough on her, is all. The way she talks about not knowing what else to do with herself, I can't imagine she has an easy time when things go wrong." </poem> <Pose Tracker> Yuliana Dispersal has posed. <poem> "A Vulture, huh? Cool," Wen nods, smiling. "Yeah, I guess you'd get some real rough customers with that sorta thing." Wen drums her fingers on the table, thoughtfully. "I think people are stronger when they can rely on each other," she settles on, after a moment, "but I can get why it'd be a struggle for the Captain, too. I mean, it's not like they could really hide how hard the exp..." Pausing, she tilts her head the other way, a little apologetic. 'Experience', perhaps. 'Expansion', maybe. 'Expectations' could be more likely. ... 'experiments' would fit, too. "Nah," Wen cuts herself off, "I really shouldn't gossip about that. Just... yeah, there's a whole lot that's rough on her. Even before I met her, I think." Her foot taps, instead. "But there's a lot of pressure on her as our field commander, that's for sure. I was a little worried when she got a girlfriend out of nowhere -- I thought she was moving pretty fast, but... y'know, I'm really glad she's found someone from the outside to rely on. She's gotten weirder, but she's happier, too, I think." Her gaze slides off to the side, to read the labels on the bottles by the bar, idly. (She has ''very'' good eyesight.) She murmurs, half to herself. "... not that people like us can really retire..." </poem> <Pose Tracker> Ennil El has posed. <poem> "It's great work. You get your hands on something that's been left behind and get it breathing again -- it's super satisfying." She chuckles. "I guess that's just the kind of person I am." She actually slips up and away from the table, pulling a red off the shelves and pouring a carefully measured half-glass for herself. She gives a little wave as a pair of the regulars slip out the door and up the stairs, hand-in-hand. Then she's back to the chair, face-to-face with Wen. "Haha. Honestly, good for her! Being head over heels like that... It's great." She takes a slow sip off that half-filled glass. "...I'm still waiting, myself. I thought I was ready, but it's gonna take a little more time for both of us, I think." She gives Wen a sympathetic look, and then blushes self-consciously. "Is that something you'd want? If you could, I mean. Ah -- probably an awkward thing to ask. You're an actual soldier, after all. The standards are different. Just -- do you think you'd have an easier time? Without the job?" </poem> <Pose Tracker> Yuliana Dispersal has posed. <poem> "Really? You'd probably have fun in the shop with the Captain, then," Wen remarks, offhand. "She's actually pretty good with mechanical stuff -- she even refit my Arm Sleeve to take a dedicated passenger." Given the control schemes of Arm Slaves -- and their general size -- that's not a trivial effort. Wen laughs, gesturing, vaguely. "Yeah, it can be hard to find the right time. I thought me and my boyfriend were ready, but when he found out more about my job... oh, well," she sighs, glossing over the whole messy breakup. It upsets her more than she lets on. "It's not like being a free woman is the worst thing in the world, either!" She pokes at her empty whiskey glass, and adds: "I'd poach Parminder, but I'm pretty sure he's as gay as the Captain is. And there's no way I can ask Cascade, when they're working under those conditions... haha, maybe I can find someone nice in Intelligence or something!" She sighs, laying her cheek in her palm. "Well... I mean, this kinda work... ahh, see, I was injured pretty bad in the One Year War, and it was the Republic who replaced half my innards." She gestures, vaguely, to her face, and her mechancial gaze. "There's... a certain expectation which comes from that, especially with how I took it when they put me in a suit..." She glances away, gaze softening. "I'm... not a great person myself, Ennil. It's too bad, but I guess I belong here." </poem> <Pose Tracker> Ennil El has posed. <poem> She softly smiles at Wen's woes. "Oh, god. That kind of guy, huh? Was he the - 'oh, I don't care about your past' - type? And then as soon as they realize you're not going to give it up -- all of a sudden they care a lot." Another little self-conscious chuckle. "Maybe that's just me." It takes another sip to fully regain her composure. "Sometimes I really wonder about guys, but there's a few good ones out there. Maybe you will find a cute one after all." She lets Wen open up for a while, taking the opportunity to enjoy her drink. "Ah, yeah. I'm probably a little younger than you, then. But -- it's not like it got much better after that. I had friends at Dublin." On both sides, admittedly. "But hey -- you survived. I get it. You can't put a gun together without knowing it's gonna be pointed at someone, you know?" She sighs, softly. "Rather than good or bad people -- Being alive means getting to decide who you are today. I'm trying to be someone who builds things." </poem> <Pose Tracker> Yuliana Dispersal has posed. <poem> "He sure was," Wen sighs, rolling her eyes. "And when I finally think I can trust him with the details, suddenly it's, 'I feel like I don't know you any more', and 'how could you do things like that', and 'I thought you were a good person'... ahhh, what a jerk!" She kicks the floor with one of her shoes, lightly. It doesn't leave a dent or anything. She's just frustrated. (Let us take a moment here to reflect on the fact that Wen has always been the worst of them at operational security.) "Ahh, that sucks," she frowns, with honest, simple sympathy, when Ennil mentions Dublin. She smiles, a shade uneasy. "I get what you're saying. It's just... the moment I pointed that gun at someone for personal reasons, I... I guess I could sit here and justify it, but in the end, I still killed someone out of anger." She waves a hand, vaguely. "... but I guess I'm just trying to do what good I can, so... I'm not gonna disagree with you, either. It's true that we put an awful lot of guns together... well, I guess that's why I can't really begrudge the Captain for her moods, either. She thinks of herself more as poison than a gun, but... geez, this shit gets so messed up, huh?" Wen doesn't look like the type to swear, but she ''is'' a soldier. It kind of comes with the territory. </poem> <Pose Tracker> Ennil El has posed. <poem> There's a moment of shared sympathy. These are easy troubles for Ennil to understand. Which... says something all on its own, probably. "God. ''Men.'' Should I top you off? Or is it better I don't? I don't mind." An eyebrow goes up when Wen opens up about having killed for personal reasons, rather than as part of her duty, but... "Tell you the truth? There's a particular blond someone I regret missing my shot on. Maybe it's for the best, though -- one less thing on my conscience." She sighs. "Yeah, it all gets messed up. I don't know if it's people or just... the way the world is. Maybe a little bit of both? It's people that keep screwing up, but it's the world that screws them up, first. What the hell's anyone supposed to do about it?" </poem> <Pose Tracker> Yuliana Dispersal has posed. <poem> "Oh, sure," Wen slides her glass over. "And yeah, men can be a pain. But women want to move in so ''quick,'' so it's like... damned if you do, damned if you don't!" Apparently, having a broad dating pool has solved none of Wen's romantic troubles. "How's it taste?" She asks, aside, about the drink. "It's for the best," Wen sighs, leaning back in the booth. "I mean, yeah, Wendy Kal Vie was the one who attacked my town and made me like this, but... y'know, I dug through her files afterward, and there was no one to remember her. Girl lost her family when she was pretty young, apparently... geez, it's just way too sad." Wen buries her hand in her hair, leaning on the table again. "So that's why I took her name," she sighs, with all the weight of the world on her shoulders. "I used to be Yuan Chun Fang, y'know? Before all this. It's a little embarrassing to be from ''Da Han Zhong'' with a Westernised name, but... I can't exactly go and call backsies on killing her." She kicks her legs, a little, under the table. She's a very fidgety sort of person. "So we just keep killing each other to get back at each other for killing each other... it's pretty depressing. I try not to let it get me down, but geez, the Captain's even holding her ''wedding'' in the middle of nowhere so no one can come and shoot it up..." Wen laughs -- forces a laugh, a little, though it's a gesture rooted in kindness. "But listen to me," she says, apologetically. "I'm totally dragging down the whole mood of your place! Sorry, sorry!" </poem> <Pose Tracker> Ennil El has posed. <poem> "Ahahah - you caught me. Definitely guilty - I'm easy that way. It's just nice to feel wanted, you know? Hard to keep, though -- the job, and... everything else." She takes the moment to take care of Wen's glass, pushing it back to her. "Oh, it's super mellow. I save the hard stuff for when I don't have company -- nobody needs to see me all weepy." Wen's emptying out her heart again, and Ennil does her best to be a good audience, slowly draining her glass with the appropriate sighs and thoughtful frowns. "That's a lot to have to carry. Too many folks like that out there these days -- folks who'd just be ghosts if anything happened, not even a headstone." She reaches out a hand, tapping her fingers against the table. It's an invitation, as she watches the other woman fidget. "It's good that you care." Wen elaborates, and this one definitely tugs on Ennil pretty hard. "Yeah. You spend all that time 'getting even' -- and you're still stuck with it, til someone comes around to get you back." She smiles, a bit. "You really care about that Captain of yours." She does her best to match Wen's laugh. "Oh, don't worry about it. I told you, I'm here so folks get a break! Some folks are completely hopeless after a couple drinks, so I'm used to it." </poem> <Pose Tracker> Yuliana Dispersal has posed. <poem> "Cool," Wen grins, as she takes the glass, and has a drink. "Yeah -- I can imagine that." The reason she told Ennil not to bother mixing her spirits, of course, is because her tongue is cybernetic too. She can't taste anything, any more. Her smile is gentler, as Ennil compliments her care, and she takes Ennil's hand, briefly. "Thanks. I'm glad you care, too." She really ''is'' relieved to see it, too. "And yeah..." She trails off, for a moment, with a self-effacing grin. "I mean, I know she's a piece of work, but that's why I feel like I should look out for her, y'know? A lot of people would look at the Captain and just get spooked... but that just makes me want to help her even more. I don't want another Wendy out there." Someone with no friends left has nothing to lose, and as far as Wen is concerned, that's when all the worst war crimes come out. And she knows that all of her co-workers are capable of that. She is, too. "You're a pretty good bartender, that's for sure!" Wen laughs, and then she puts a hand on the booth, and straightens up. "Ahhh... but I had better go find the Captain before she picks a fight about it," she says, with another shade of apology. "But this has been great, really -- I'll have to invite Parminder over at some point. I'd invite Cascade, but... they don't really like hanging out after work." Wen shrugs, and clasps her hands in front of her. "It was really nice to meet you, Ennil!" With that, unless she's stopped, she'll start heading out. </poem> <Pose Tracker> Ennil El has posed. <poem> Ennil gives a soft little squeeze when Wen takes her up on her invitation. "Good! I'm glad! Hey, let me make sure you have one of these too. In case the Captain holds onto hers - " She slips another of those little cards into Wen's palm. "Yeah, I wouldn't want you to get in trouble. The wedding's probably got her a little high strung." When Wen mentions she might swing by again, "Absolutely. Bring your friend. Or, hell, if you do get lucky and need a date spot -- swing by, alright?" She gives a genuine grin and stands up, picking up both glasses with a soft clink. "I had a great time, Wen. You can also just drop by yourself, if you need another break." </poem> <Pose Tracker> Yuliana Dispersal has posed. <poem> "Thanks," Wen smiles, at the door. She definitely did take that card. Her suit also has pockets! "I'll be sure to come by, one way or another. Safe travels, okay? Oh, and check the seat!" With that, she ducks out, because the wedding ''definitely'' has Yuliana high-strung. (On the seat of the booth, Wen has left her +1 invitation, with the address to a remote wedding in Zaftra, permission to bring one's robot for personal transport, and a strict warning to avoid violence during the ceremony. It's definitely the sort of RSVP written for people who aren't very nice.) </poem>