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*'''Log: Here in this darkness I face the horror of my manufactured existence, untouchable and alone with you''' *'''Cast:''' [[Character :: Rita Bernal]], observing [[Character :: Yuliana Kafim]] *'''Where: Denver Colony''' *'''Date: 2022-12-17 (OOC date: 2022-12-15)''' *'''Summary''': ''Yuliana struggles with herself over Leina and Rena's words -- and doesn't realise she's being watched, despite Rita's desperate attempts to reach out. It could have been a revelation, but she's gone too far to turn back, now.'' ---- [[Category:Logs]] [[Category:Phase 1, Turn 2]] <Pose Tracker> Yuliana Kafim has posed. <poem> OST: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=996nDRrFa64 Fall Out Boy - Alone Together Yuliana has always been the sort to keep her thoughts to herself. Locked away in the bell-jar of her heart, the sanctity of her private thoughts is her greatest weapon; the world sees only what she wishes it to see, with no hope of empathic connection. The one exception to her practiced and enforced silence has always been... mechanics. Working on a mobile suit is so OFTEN a group project; verbalising her thoughts is a habit which has always allowed the people working with her to understand what she's doing, when she's doing it. And when she's alone, well -- it's much easier to keep ''track,'' when she's laying everything out for herself. "Carbo's junked," she's reporting, and her throat is a little tight, tone a little harried, but she hasn't called attention to it. "Inserting a Z'Gok injector. Ugh, half these machines are useless..." Those aside grumbles are part of it, too, especially now there's no one in the hangar she's claimed for herself. She's currently draped halfway into the guts of the machine, on a precarious perch -- if she fell, she'd have quite a few more problems. But then, Yuliana got out of her Tendus to repair it in the ''middle of the battle'' more than once, when she was a Private. She's really quite used to climbing these things like a jungle gym to get things done. "Don't see why I should even bother," she grumbles, "except this is still technically atmo performance, ugh, it's bound to ''choke''... oh, get in there, you stupid--!!" Struggling to fit the part to a machine it was never built for, Yuliana loses her patience and beats the wrench about its seating, lost momentarily to wild, angry abandon. Bang! Clatter! "RRRrrrrrghhhh!" Her violence isn't only a thing she shares with other people. There's a reason why all the plates in her house are new, even though she lived alone for so many years. By the end she has a bent wrench, but the Gelgoog, at least, is made of sterner stuff; there's not much damage to the ''seating.'' "Oh, for fuck's sake," Yuliana grumbles, entirely a soldier, as she tosses it over her shoulder. It falls to the ground with a light ''clank,'' as Yuliana pulls her head out and climbs back up to return to the gangway, to go dig through the toolkit and find another. "Tch... what does she know, anyway?" She demands, as she tosses tools aside in the box to try and get to the one she needs. "Couldn't even give me a straight answer where Ritechka was... every damn thing she said was suspect, if you ask me! Damn girl needs to obscure her agenda better! AND WHERE'D THAT WRENCH GO?!" There's no one here who can answer her question, of course, so she's left to search alone. </poem> <Pose Tracker> Rita Bernal has posed. <poem> With her companions occupied with their own exploration, and quite safe, for the moment... Rita explores. She can't drift too far from the Phenex, even in the best of times, but the Newtype spirit has a goal in mind. It's far easier to just send a portion of herself, and so, four golden birds streak away from the Phenex. Each one is made of pure spiritual energy, utterly intangible, but still warm. Rita searches for what she can't see. This colony is barren, each soul trapped within a pinprick of light, save one. How do you search for emptiness in an empty place? The same way a bird searches for a pane of glass. Hours pass. Little golden birds with long tailfeathers discover bodies, living and dead. Until-- abrutply, one of four vanishes, extinguished entirely in a moment. There she is. Rita calls back the three remaining bits of her essence, then takes off herself. Moving as a humanoid spirit isnt' as fun as moving as a bird, but she can do a lot more this way. Hands and thumbs really make a difference, even for a telepath! "Yuliana!" Rita calls, in delight, as she moves through one final wall. Her friend is revealed, precariously leaning into the Gelgoog. She can't help but laugh at the other woman's frustration. It's almost comical -- the anger, the toss of the broken wrench. She's got to keep her distance. But maybe she can help a little, despite that? Rita floats down to the wrench, picking it up. For any observers, it would appear the object is wreathed in blue energy. Turning it over in her hands, Rita floats up and behind Yuliana. With careful movements, she straightens it out. Another giggle. This is almost like bending a spoon! "You've changed a lot since we last met." Rita says, knowing Yuliana won't hear her. "So have I, I guess! Neither of us exist in the same world we used to." The wrench looks nice. Rita goes to the trouble of carving a tiny bird on one side. She can have fun here, it's fine. Yuliana won't be able to hear her, no matter what. Rita floats the wrench close to Yuliana. Behind her back, still, testing how close she can get to the other woman. When she inevitibly hits the wall of void that nullifies her powers, the wrench falls -- and Rita catches it just before it can hit the ground and alert the Captain. "Look out, Yuliana!" Rita calls, for her own amusement. Lifted and pulled back, Rita launches the wrench toward the open spot Yuliana is leaning into. It's not fast enough to hurt her, but it'll definitely clatter around enough to draw her attention. "I made a new friend. You know her too." Rita floats around Yuliana in a wide arc, wanting to see her friend's face. "Leina Ashta! What a wonderful young lady. But you've been mean to her, and her partners. One of them pilots my sister!" Rita turns in the air, miming the pose a young girl might take, laying on her bed to talk to her girlfriends. Her legs kick in the air, and she props her chin up on her hands. "You used to love Gundams. Why are you chasing my sister? She's got enough to deal with!" </poem> <Pose Tracker> Yuliana Kafim has posed. <poem> Just ask Puru Two about flying directly into window panes! It's a real hazard. Yuliana can't ask anything of Rita, though; the void which embraces her is absolute, and the only sensation she has is of being watched, in the vast psychic disturbance. Not by Rita, mind you. "And who does that Renalle think she is? Impudent wretch!" Yuliana mutters, as she digs through the toolbox for the third time. (She hasn't exactly organised things neatly. Like her head, it all falls where it falls.) "'Stop hurting people', as if it's that easy... tcha!" She clicks her tongue against her teeth, and there's a fang, in the right side of her mouth, now. It wasn't there, before. Her lower lip is calloused from so many little rips and tears. The scar was there for a while, but she used to cover it up with bangs. They've been clipped away; it looks recent. Hurried. There's still the echo of new damage, though it's been healed; skin a slightly darker shade, across some parts of her. "Oh, not that she knows what I occupy myself with," she supposes, scowling. "But what am I to do, tell ''her'' of my enforcement..? Oh, it hardly matters." She grumbles -- and turns, as her violent upheaval of the toolset seems to reveal just what she was looking for, wrench clattering down. "What the --" Shrugging, she picks up the wrench -- and lingers, for a moment, on the bird impressed into the metal. "A sparrow," she supposes, and it's not just the text on the page she's seeing. "But I can't escape so easily..." With a gruff noise in the back of her throat, she goes back down the gangwalk, to the repairs she's making. "Pulling back the fifth brace," she reports, to herself. "Mind the wiring. These models put them back there. And... good connection," she decides, as if she'd know what one looked like, tightening the bonds between the metal. She grabs a length of something which looks much ''like'' tape, and reports: "Sealing," as she wraps it about the join. "But that Leina... how does it help me to say such flagrant things about my people?!" She demands, as she wraps the sealant about. "My hate is my own! Talking like that, it's like..." Her hands still, for a moment. "... I mean, it's not like we weren't being monitored, but... sure, Dr. Devi was deeply concerned with how I was getting 'closer' to her, but that doesn't mean..." Her breath shallows over her strange teeth, lips parted, and her gaze grows unfocused from the fuel injector in front of her. </poem> <Pose Tracker> Rita Bernal has posed. <poem> "Renalle..." Rita repeats, thoughtfully. "Another of Leina's friends, maybe?" Thinking back to what Leina revealed of Yuliana's missions, the blonde woman frowns. "It really isn't that easy for you to stop hurting people, is it?" Rita blinks at that fang, and the exposed scar. "The future hasn't been kind to you, has it, Yuliana..." Her voice is a murmur. "I know it's hard, but if you reached out, they'd keep you safe." Or they'd try, anyway. It's an empty reassurance, just as Yuliana's once was. Yuliana finds the wrench! Rita smiles, floating safely away from her friend. "Sparrows are pretty nice. I wonder why you thought of that first?" As Yuliana walks down the gangwalk, Rita follows her, never leaving her comfortable pose. "Do you ''want'' to escape? If you were being honest, what would you say?" A little image of Yuliana appears before Rita, the size of a doll. She picks it up, pantomiming Yuliana's dramatic motions and words. "I'm happy here! Just because I'm tormented and used by horrible people doesn't mean I need your help!" Rita marches the doll around, and it makes a dramatic motion, throwing one arm wide. "I'll hate Newtypes forever!" It was meant to be a game, but Rita sighs, frowning. The doll is held close. Yuliana fusses with the engineering problem before her -- entirely unknown to Rita. Maybe she could help, if she knew anything about mechanical things. With a little wiggle of Rita's fingers, the doll of Yuliana is suddenly dressed in wedding regalia. She shifts it between a dress, military finery, and a suit, humming to herself. "I wonder what you wore. I've never been to a wedding. I hope it was a nice one. Was there danc--" Yuliana is talking about her. Rita blinks, focusing again on the real Yuliana, floating in as close as she dares. "...Dr. Devi... I wonder what she said to you about me. Is that why they forced you to do all those horrible things, Yuli?" The doll shifts to a younger form. A young woman, barely past the cusp of adulthood, dressed in an REA uniform. Rita hugs it close, shifting her own position so she's perched atop the Gelgoog Yuliana works on. "I'm here." She says, simply. "I'm with you! I can't see you, in the way time moves, but I can see the emptiness you leave. Leina and I -- we won't let your suffering be in vain." Again, the doll-Yuliana is lifted, though this time Rita manipulates it with her hands, rather than her powers. It shifts back into the present-day Yuliana, and another doll is summoned. This one is some kind of veiled woman, dressed in all black. Rita has no idea what Elisa looks like, so she's just portraying her with a 'scary woman' doll. The two dolls hold hands. "Oh Rita, I'm so happy to be with my beloved. Thank you for saving me from those horrible scientists! Now I'm healed and we can be friends again! I'm sorry I hurt your sister. I'll never do it again." Rita sighs. "...probably not..." </poem> <Pose Tracker> Yuliana Kafim has posed. <poem> It isn't. It hasn't. They wouldn't. (Could they?) Yuliana's thoughts are a complex morass, and it has everything to do with the consumption she invoked so often -- and less and less, as she got to know Elisa. She was always so easy for the scientists to handle, despite her unrestrained anger. It's not entirely force; she's not entirely unwilling. The drugs were always more insidious than that, wearing grooves down into her psyche. There are no simple answers, in the REA, where no movement is obvious and the subtle motions achieve so many different ends. For a time, she is silent. Then she blinks, and hurries to finish her task. "Locking the panel," she reports, and finds her voice unsteady as she fixes the armor back in place. She presses her forehead to it, expression tightening. "So... so what?" Yuliana issues, to the emptiness. "It's not like I didn't always hate her! People like us can't exist together! I was just... stupid and sentimental... I don't know, I thought I was tougher, I could keep them going... as if it did Jeong any good?!" She pulls her head back -- and rams it into the metal, lips twisting, a sneer or a snarl or a grimace of pain. "AAAAaaaahhh--!!!" (Yuliana isn't only violent to the rest of the world.) The images of Cyber-Newtypes from Titan labs dashing themselves bloody against the glass aren't ''entirely'' unfitting, here -- but Yuliana at least manages to get a hold of herself before she goes that far. Tears and pain blur her eyes, as she pulls back from the Gelgoog's hull, putting a hand there to steady herself. "I get it now," she murmurs, dismal. "What Elya meant... about how Newtypes are a diversion. The... the Republic was distracting me... all I've done, all I've committed..." And there's horror, in her eyes, as she looks up -- almost directly in Rita's direction. She's not looking at Rita. "Even so... even if I was created... my hate is still mine, isn't it? Sharing their air... it tears me to bits. It hurts..." </poem> <Pose Tracker> Rita Bernal has posed. <poem> Rita is distracted, for a moment, designing miniature wedding rings for the pair of dolls. She can't get close enough to really see Yuliana's, so instead, different versions flit across her creations' fingers. Emeralds? Diamonds? Maybe both? Maybe something totally unexpected, like a ruby? By the time Yuliana speaks again, Rita has decided on a central, circular diamond surrounded by small emeralds. It really is a pleasing design. She's proud of it. But-- "You didn't hate me?" Rita whispers, her eyes wide. The dolls are forgotten, for a moment. "I know you didn't. You don't even now, do you?" Yuliana's distress mounts, and Rita drops her dolls, letting them vanish into bursts of gold sparkles. "Yuliana!" The other woman ''slams'' her head into the metal, and Rita gasps in distress. She rushes forward despite herself-- Memories of a girl screaming, rushing to the window. She'd been unstable for a while, treated badly, without the Miracle Children's saving grace of uniqueness. Slam. The safety glass holds. Slam. The safety glass splinters. Slam. Her hair catches in the broken glass, and she slumps down to the ground. "No -- no!" Rita's desperate, reaching out to Yuliana with bold hands, but the Void's relentless chill stops her. As she enters Yuliana's area of influence, pain lances into Rita's spiritual form, vanishing her fingers, her arms, up to the elbow. Gasping, she floats back, shimmering tears in her eyes. This has never happened before. She knew it would, but it still hurts! Rita's form slowly regenerates. No real harm is done, just momentary pain... Maybe Yuliana sees her own self-harm the same way. Azure-stained tears drip down Rita's face. They're not real, she's only creating the image of them to let herself feel some sort of emotional release. "Yuli..." A sniffle, as Rita curls into a ball in the air, wrapping her newly-formed arms around her legs, pulling them close to her chest. Does Yuliana see Rita, in that moment? Hope flutters in the young woman's core. No. "It's not too late." Rita murmurs, listening to Yuliana's realization. "As long as you're alive, it's never too late. Your feelings are yours. So are your actions. But the future doesn't have to be this way!" Again, Rita floats as close to Yuliana as she dares, all-but pressing up against that chilled wall of emptiness. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Yuli, I'm so sorry we hurt you." She wants to hug her friend. Not that Yuliana would ever allow it, but Rita wants it all the same. "Maybe... if something is empty, it just needs to be filled? Maybe..." Rita knows better. She wars with herself for a moment. Radiant strength is hers. She could summon all her might and try to use it to fill Yuliana up, to sustain her with all the connection and joy Rita can muster... But it hadn't worked for that horrible Sleeves man, and he's not half as empty as Yuliana is. Rita sniffles. She remembers she was crying and creates a few more tears for herself. It helps, a little. "Maybe there's somewhere you could go where you could be safe, and never have to see Newtypes again. Would that be the answer? Is that how you could be happy?" Leina refused to consider condemning Banagher and Mineva to a life of hiding away from the pain Yuliana brings. Somehow, Rita knows, Yuliana would probably make the same decision. "I'm not going to leave you to cry alone. I'll be right back." Soaring to the ground, Rita looks through the abandoned hangar. Just a bit of sheet metal, there must be some... She can't find any. It's taking too long! Rita makes a frustrated noise, then propels herself to the very back of the hangar. There's more mobile suits here, they're probably broken. With a gesture, the outer plating is ripped off of another unfortunate Gelgoog. "It'll be a wedding present," Rita tells herself, as she works. Radiant as the dawn, psychic strength is pressed up against the metal. It easily yields. Maybe it's a little clumsy looking, but Rita bends the metal, crumpling it into a ball, then pulls out the bottom, pushing in the top. It's a heart. Small enough to sit in your palm, heavier than it looks. She's condensed a decent amount of metal to get the shape right. It gleams bronze in the dim light of the hangar. It'd be better if it was green, but... This is fine. Back to Yuliana. Rita carries the little heart in her hands. She holds it close to her chest, hugging it with all her strength. "I love you. I'm sorry. I won't give up." Above her friend, Rita drops the heart, letting it crash into the walkway just before her. </poem> <Pose Tracker> Yuliana Kafim has posed. <poem> Emeralds, diamonds, and onyx, on rich golden bands. They're not visible now, of course. Her jewellery is all hidden beneath her normal suit, the one barrier between her and the unreliable life support of this colony. She doesn't feel Rita's efforts. She can't feel Rita's efforts. No -- she feels the possession of the abyss, in all its unfathomable care and concern. Love, as she tells it. If she knew, would she... Yuliana makes her way back to the walkway, before she can fall to -- not her demise, not with her conditioning, but it certainly won't help her get back to Elisa any quicker. "The Republic is strong," she repeats to herself, like a mantra. "The Republic is strong, and I am strong... if it's for the Republic's sake, it's for mine, as well. I'm a soldier of the REA. I've served for nine years. My service record begins in zero-zero-eight-seven. I disobeyed orders to fight on the front lines. They forgave me. They let me pilot. I protected the Republic from the others. Zeon are our enemies. Our neighbours are our enemies. Disloyal citizens are our enemies. The Republic is strong. We don't need weak people. I am the one enforcing the Republic's will. I'm the one acting. I am strong. I'm not disloyal. They won't kill me. I've served for nine years. I've served with honour and distinction. It's for the Republic's sake, and mine, as well." Her fingers curl, against the metal of the gangway. Her eyes squeeze shut. "Elyula will protect me," her anthem shifts, promising herself, her affection close to baby-talk. "She swore to protect me. She swore to help me. She'll know what to do. All will be well. All will be well," she repeats, once and once again, and wishes it sounded as reassuring in her voice. From nowhere, something impacts the ground, in front of her, with a metal CLANG. Yuliana's eyes widen, and she pushes herself upwards in an instant, drawing her sidearm from her holster, flicking off the safety as she sweeps it across the empty hangar. "Who's there?!" She yells, voice still tight despite her sudden spike of anger, blinking away those tears to try and help her see. "Don't screw with me! I'll fucking kill you--!" The first thing she reacts to, the first instinct she follows... Yuliana, in her eyes, is a woman under threat. </poem> <Pose Tracker> Rita Bernal has posed. <poem> If Rita could see those wedding bands, she'd surely coo and squeal. Perhaps, in another life, she might've been by Yuliana's side as she was wed, dressed as a member of the wedding party... Green dresses. High heels, maybe! Rita's never wore high heels before. It's nice to think about. As Yuliana repeats her mantra, Rita's face falls. She'd been taught similar things, of course, but they were shoved out of her mind the moment Rita ascended to the Phenex. It's difficult to think of the conflicts of the Earthsphere seriously, anymore. When you know a threat is coming that dwarfs all of them, what use is it stressing yourself out over border skirmishes? "They won't kill you." Rita repeats. "They won't. We won't let them. It's going to be really scary, but they won't kill you." Yuliana's voice shifts from militant to soothing. Rita tilts her head. "Is this closer to the real you? Is all that REA stuff just the outer shell? Elyula... Elisa... swore to protect you, swore to help." Rita makes a little humming noise. "Maybe I can use that." A wince, as the CLANG echoes through the hangar. "A--ah, I should've... thought that one out." Rita floats back to sitting atop the Gelgoog, watching Yuliana brandish her weapon. "Sorry, Yuli... It's just me, just a little present!" Any action Rita could take would only upset Yuliana all the more. She's got to wait this out. Rita swings her legs atop the mobile suit, ignoring as they pass through the machine's metal. It's not like she's keeping up appearances for anyone. </poem> <Pose Tracker> Yuliana Kafim has posed. <poem> Yuliana's heels weren't that high, either. She's always been more of a butch woman; Elisa's the one who adds so many more inches to her height so effortlessly. But the lessons Yuliana learned, as a citizen of the REA... they began before she became a soldier. She learned their conniving form of patriotism from a young, young age. And she believes -- bone-deep -- that betraying the REA leads only to death. How could she think anything else? She's the very one who kills those dissidents. But there are other beliefs, yes, deep to her bones. Elisa... means everything, to her. Only Elisa -- and those artifacts of Elisa's will -- may see her like this. So Yuliana sweeps the gun around the room, and demands: "Come out with your hands up! I KNOW you're there!" All on-guard, all sharp edges, she moves down the gangwalk, she sweeps the hangar. Her search is military and exact; she's been a special operative for seven of those nine years. She knows how to flush out a rabbit. Strange, then, that nothing bolts from the bushes of this hangar, full of machines so old they're good only for parts and the vain dreams of vintage collectors. "Tch..." Yuliana growls, tongue pressing to her teeth, as she cautiously flicks the safety on her gun and replaces it at her side. She's quiet, her thoughts a fortress inside herself, as she grabs another part from the pile she's scavenged and climbs the gangway again. "Got to install this new coil bypass, or the whole thing's going to cook..." She grabs a spanner on the way, and walks along the gangwalk, with clanking steps. Until -- ''clink,'' her foot brushes something, and it skips forward at the light kick. Yuliana looks down, only to see a crude heart, all panel-beaten, lying on the walkway. "What the..." She exclaims, quietly, as she crouches down and puts the coil to one side so she can pick the heart up. It's heavy; she can still lift it. Yuliana's physical prowess isn't ''close'' to the level of her Olympian wife, but she's no slouch, herself. She holds the bronze effigy in her palm, frowning down at it, uncomprehending. "I... must have missed it, before..." She reasons, with herself, though her situational awarenes is ''quite'' good in a place like this. "I guess whoever made this had to leave it behind in a hurry... huh." It's a logical explanation, isn't it? Everyone had to evacuate. (There wasn't enough space for everyone to evacuate.) She clasps her other hand, over it. "I guess... people don't always get to choose how they leave," she runs with her theory, downcast. "Just like her, probably... it's not like I was there when they shipped her out, but... probably, right?" Yuliana sighs, and her expression is still so, so dismal. "Dr. Devi wasn't happy about losing her... I got quite the lecture over necessitating such a drastic action. If I'd been more careful, they wouldn't have had to cover it up... but it's not like they were asking for easy assassinations, back then. Fighting the Devil Gundam and Neo Zeon was great for my image... so if that business with Helmajistan got out, it would have embarrassed the REA terribly, I suppose." Her grief is a mild thing; even in the privacy of herself, it's so, so hard to say a word against them. Yuliana clutches the heart, to her. "I don't know... maybe I wish I'd said something else to her before she left. But what would I have said...? Something dreadful, I'm sure. We were together so long, and... I was only so ''angry'' she wouldn't break. As if the whitecoats needed any help..! I suppose I was a fine enforcer on the inside, too." She takes a breath, and closes her eyes. "It's not that I regret it," she insists, to herself. "I hate her! She was always so ''loud,'' so disruptive!" And Yuliana isn't talking about her tone of voice. "It's just --" More tears slip down her cheeks, as her shoulders tighten. "Ritechka... you should have hated me too, you damn fool..." </poem> <Pose Tracker> Rita Bernal has posed. <poem> Rita watches Yuliana's gaze turn to each corner of the hangar. "Sorry..." She murmurs again. Nothing emerges. Rita isn't trying to hide herself, but there's really no way to reassure Yuliana. She wonders how long it'll take her friend to notice the heart. Will she even accept it? Yuliana was never really one for tokens. "Ah." Yuliana puts her gun away and returns to her task. Rita watches with interest, smiling. "Just a little more, come on -- yes! You found it!" A playful cheer, as the young woman throws her hands in the air. Listening carefully as Yuliana begins to speak, Rita's smile only widens. "It's for you! I hope you like it! Sorry it was rushed, but it's certainly one of a kind." "Maybe that's a potential career, if I give up the guiding thing. Arts and crafts." Rita laughs at her joke. As if she'd ever give up. Yuliana presses her hands around the heart, and Rita leans in, scooting as close as she can to her friend. Every mention of Dr. Devi makes Rita's smile just a bit harder to keep up. If she'd ascended at the Institute, Rita would've taken special care to crush her, for the good of humanity. "It's okay. It's what had to happen." Rita sounds so sure. "You were doing good things, fighting that Devil monster. I hope you're proud." But Yuliana brings a hand to her heart. Rita blinks. For a precious few moments, it's as though Yuliana is speaking from her heart. Unvarnished, unconcealed... Rita breathes in. How could she ever have explained the reason why she didn't break? Yuliana would've put no stock in her visions, no matter how accurate. "I'm sorry." Rita offers, to the void. "It's not your fault. Leina's right, you were doing the only thing you could have. I was never mad at you." A change comes over Yuliana, and she rages, hating Rita. The young woman's smile remains. "Just like when I was alive..." Yuliana could never be too kind for too long. Maybe it was a touch too close to her true self, and realizing how she's repressed it was a pain Yuliana isn't ready to face? Rita gasps. Yuliana is... crying. Really crying, without anyone hurting her. Her words tear right to the Newtype's soul, and Rita recoils as if struck. She can't feel the waves of grief and pain coming from Yuliana, but she doesn't need her spiritual senses to know they exist. This time, there's no invented tears. Rita stops swinging her legs and lets herself float from the top of the Gelgoog, looking carefully at Yuliana's face. She... really means it. She's really, truly mourning Rita. Despite knowing she was mourned, at least by Jona and Michele, Rita's never actually ''seen'' it. "Oh," She doesn't like it. This isn't what's supposed to happen. She's supposed to be triumphant and beautiful, free to fly through the cosmos. "O--oh. I didn't mean -- I didn't mean for you to like me. I just wanted to help! I thought -- if I could be kind to you, you'd follow me when I needed you, but--" "I never thought I was your friend." Rita's image flickers. Such strong emotions make it difficult to hold herself together, away from the Phenex. "A--ah, I -- Yuli... I was only supposed to hurt Jona and Michele like this..." </poem> <Pose Tracker> Yuliana Kafim has posed. <poem> "Ritechka... Ritechka, I-I..." Yuliana cries, wretched and alone, and for all the theatre of her existence -- she has no one to act for, here. The only eyes she feels on her are eyes she cannot mislead; they've taken her apart too many times for that. The bauble has nothing to do with Rita, she knows -- she thinks she knows -- but still she clutches it to her chest, tightly, like a lifeline. It's painful, yes. Her grasp on the bronze heart tightens, and she glares out at the hangar -- the very look in her eyes which precedes her throwing something, which was a common enough occurrence, in Medical. Her shoulders sink a moment later, though, and she tucks the heavy little bauble into the bag at her side instead. "It doesn't matter," she assures herself, tone colder, as she secures it. "None of this matters. Once they learn what we've done... none will forgive me. I'd reject it, anyway! The thought of those lowly creatures presuming to forgive ''me'' makes me ''retch!''" The snarl on her face, as she picks up the coil and rises up, is vicious again. "I want them to suffer. I ''like'' making them suffer. That my hatred was given to me... doesn't make the gift unwelcome! My hate is still my own!" And again, she almost looks right ''at'' Rita, with a complicated expression. (It is like longing, and it is like fear.) "After all, my cruelty... pleases you, doesn't it..?" She can never be entirely sure. She is still so like a human. She opens up another panel on the Gelgoog, and repeats to herself: "Yes... I've gone too far to turn back now." There's no one here; she's convincing ''herself.'' "Though... my own heart is disquiet... perhaps I'll force my assistance on the girl," she says, she reasons, she bargains with herself. "I've nothing to make up for, but I'll not apologise for the whim of my moods, either..." She yanks at her spanner, and tells herself: "Elya will know what to do. I must only return to her... oh, she must be so worried!" The warmth returns to her chilly voice, to speak of her wife, and it only makes the contrast more stark. </poem> <Pose Tracker> Rita Bernal has posed. <poem> Each time Yuliana calls out Rita's nickname, her image flickers a bit more. This, it seems, is the true marker of the spirit's distress, far more than the tears she summons on to express herself. Even though there's no reason for Yuliana to hold onto the heart Rita made for her, she does, clinging to it. That affects Rita more than she thought it would. For a moment, Rita fears Yuliana is going to hurl it away... But she doesn't. She places it safely into her bag. Rita's hands clasp in front of her heart, and a smile -- a real one, not like the one she's hid behind all these years -- comes to her face. "Yuli..." Rita's unearthly-green eyes are wide and full of hope. There must be a way to save Yuliana, if her hatred is truly such a facade. Yuliana clamps back down on her feelings, telling herself there's no forgiveness for her. Rita shakes her head, letting her long, blonde hair brush over her shoulders. It's not about forgiveness. It's about starting over. When her friend glances her way again, Rita can't help but gasp. No, it's just another coincidence. "It's not true, Yuli, you don't like making anyone suffer. It stays with you, weighing down your heart even more." Rita's voice is breathless. "You don't have to please... that thing. You shouldn't even have to have faced Her. There must be a way to get Her away from you!" Desperation draws Rita closer to Yuliana. She's so close to a breakthrough here. "No, you can always start again! As long as you're alive!" Bare arms wave in the air, an attempt to get Yuliana's attention Rita knows won't work. "Don't give up on yourself!" "Elisa." Rita murmurs, refusing to use the familiar, sweet form of the word. Not after what Leina showed her. "I wonder if she's even in love with you, or just trying to use your powers? At least she makes you happy. I like it when you're happy." Briefly, she wonders what Elisa must be doing, with Yuliana out of contact all this time. Maybe that's something she should check on -- but she can't get that far from the Phenex, and it's too soon to show everyone the way out. Rita sighs, floating back away from Yuliana just a bit. "I'll figure her out. Don't worry." </poem> <Pose Tracker> Yuliana Kafim has posed. <poem> No. Yuliana is Hers. It is inevitable. Just as inevitable as the way Yuliana's gaze passes over Rita, without a single glimpse of recognition. Yuliana certainly ''sounds'' in love -- so much more at peace, whenever she brings her terrific wife to mind. She really, truly depends on her... and Elisa has proven herself so, ''so'' dependable. "Oh, Elya," she murmurs, warm to longing, as she works. "I wish you were here... right now, it's so ''hard...'' but I must keep fighting. I'll survive... I swear it..!" Thinking of Elisa ''does'' seem to offer Yuliana extra strength, all carried in the determination of her voice. Maybe she'll be okay... at least for a while. </poem> <Pose Tracker> Rita Bernal has posed. <poem> Between the amount of spiritual energy she's expended and the intense emotions of meeting Yuliana... Rita's growing tired. The golden aura around her grows faint, and she seems to droop in the air. She needs to return to the majority of her self, back in the Phenex. "You're going to be alright." Rita says, determination warring with exhaustion in her voice. "You're going to survive. Just don't attack any of the heroes while we escape, okay? It'll be just fine... You'll be home with Elisa before you know it, Yuli." "And I have so much to talk to Leina about." A murmur. Beginning to move toward the Phenex, Rita glances back. Yuliana works steadily. The hanagar is empty of any threat. "I'll see you again. Don't worry." It's spoken as a reassurance to herself, more than the woman who can't hear her. "I'll make sure to keep you safe. You're not alone, Yuli." There's so much more she wants to say, but there's no point in whispering her feelings to unhearing ears. Rita turns back toward the Phenex and vanishes through the hangar wall, speeding back to her greater self. </poem>