Scene #8409: How It Is Here

Owner	Pose
Angela	L Corp, or Lobotomy Corp, is but one Wing of a city with (depending on the time) 25 of them but its branches spread deep underneath the city and even into other Districts through their Branch Office. As an energy company that has something (Enkephalin) that most people desire within the city, the branch offices exist all throughout the City and they are all connected so even if the Lobotomy Corp facility is buried deep underground--there are ultimately exterior entrances that one can employ, particularly if you are using a multitude of helpful talents to avoid trouble. With the aid of time freezes, stealth, and precog--Lilian can avoid any potential ambush from the hungry (sometimes literally) and violent (always literally) locals readily. She's able to slip by the waystations that the City has set up to control movement throughout the city. But despite being able to avoid violence towards herself, Lilian sees plenty of it during her trip to Lobotomy Corp. Benjamin's despair at the state of the City didn't come from nowhere. The people she sees seem tired, suspicious, and tense at the best of times and while nobody bothers her, she sees plenty of slowed down and frozen acts of cruelty--perhaps cruelty is too generous a word, actually. Cruelty suggests a deviation from the norm, but even the cannibals are just part of life here. Many people have some form of augmentation but they run the gamut. She sees cybernetic folk--cybernetic to the point that they might seem like a full AI if it weren't for the rules Angela had spoken of. The ones that don't seem like they can hold their own in a fight keep their head down. Many who can hold their own in a fight still move with caution. Breaking into a branch office near Nest L, Lilian slips by the guards by stepping between seconds and heads underground--reports of offhanded remarks from the Agents suggested that Lobotomy Corp was largely underground. She no doubt sees plenty of strange and monstrous creatures on route but they don't seem to be able to handle frozen time either. Eventually, Lilian makes it through to L Corp proper. Familiar agents--like Justin Rook and Random--move in exceedingly slow motion. Angela can be found at the lowest level of Lobotomy Corp in a dark area where there are plenty of upside down structures and blocks with strange runic inscribings hanging above. Angela is seated at a table alone. She is remarkably still.
Lilian Rook	Out of all the days Lilian could have journeyed through the city on her own, this one is just in time. Any other day in the past year, she might have done something as she travelled. She might have stopped at the first mugging or break-in and saved someone for a day longer. Any time in the past four, and she might have stopped to put a cannibal out of everyone's collective misery, at least. But today, the day after yesterday; because that is the sole, inexorable direction that time moves, cruelly and unfairly; Lilian can't find it within herself to do much more than look at the myriad sights that wrong every facet of the few principles she has to guide her, and feel too overwhelmed to be anything but numb. §That's not true. It feels just right. For once, the outside matches the inside. Maybe I should just live here? Then I'd finally blend in as just normal.§ Lilian's attention lingers on Justin along the way into the office, but only for a bit. She honestly has nothing against the guy himself, just everyone else forOh god. That's-- that's grotesque, saying you looked like him?using him as an excuse toI LOOK LIKE ME! I DIDN'T DO ALL OF THAT JUST FOR NOBODY TO EVEN RESPECT HOW I LOOK!misbehave around her. He hasn'tFor a second time, too. What's everyone's problem, why can't they just listen? That's really awful.done anything wrong himself, so sheTHAT'S WHAT YOU'VE BEEN THINKING ALL ALONG, ISN'T IT?! I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU! ALL OF YOU!can just leave him be. Lilian finds Angela in the depths, and is not so terribly surprised, given her appearance in Bladecraft. Lilian herself is of course much more normal-looking than in the videogame, but the fact that she's dressed herself up for an outdoors evening with her rich friends is more a matter of bland and mindless habit than an intent to make an impression. For once, she looks worn out-- no, she's looked worn out ever since Petra, it's just gotten worse now. The shadows under her eyes that her makeup doesn't fully conceal, the exhausted tension in her posture, the uncanny quietness of each footstep, all betray someone who doesn't feel comfortable existing right now. A perfect fit for The City. "Good evening. My apologies that it took so long to get here." Lilian says, mustering a polite neutrality that doesn't match her looks. "It feels as if it's been a long time coming, somehow." Lilian breaks her motion towards a chair to unbuckle her messenger bag and hand over a tablet; generic, consumer-grade, word processor open. "I apologize for the forwardness, but please bear with me for a moment. If you're an AI, then are you able to interface with this? That is to say, without typing, would you be able to make words appear?"
Angela	The City might be cruel, but even in the ways it is dishonest--the City is strangely honest about it. Justin Rook wasn't exactly thrilled with the comparision himself, though it hadn't hit him quite as hard. AT this point, he feels like it's trying to shove someone else's disrespect into his hands and make it his problem. He cares deeply about his sense of professionalism and this was something that put it at risk. It has actually put a bit of a rift in his relationship with Malkuth but he isn't going to say jack about it. Angela's hair is longer than in Bladecraft, she is wearing a labcoat and suit unlike the other outift and a long pair of leggings. The labcoat doesn't seem to fit quite right on her despite it fitting perfectly fine. It's not the coat itself, but the Angela--seeing her in clothes she is comfortable in and seeing her in work clothes... Her posture is tighter, stiffer. It feels like hours between Lilian's arrival in the depths and her first words. "...It was hardly any time at all," Angela says. It has, for her, felt like months--sure--but she's waited for longer. She's waited for so fucking long. And she has a lot more waiting to do. But--she vows--this will be the last time she waits, and more of that time is in the past than faces her in the future. It is a reminder that helps Angela keep her head cool in the most infuriating of moments. But Lilian isn't infuriating. "I mean no disrespect with this, but I am impressed you were able to make your way down here, near the Well where we draw our EGO from." She stands up and offers a hand-- --only for Lilian to express a forward request. Interface with the tablet. "...I should be able to." Angela says--largely because she doesn't know what kind of protections or security the tablet might have. She attempts to connect to the tablet--much like how she connected to the tablets her Agents periodiclly carried. If she's able to-- --a curser on the tablet will click into the word processor and slowly type out-- Like this? Angela brings her hands forward and says, "...With no disrespect meant, but if I may ask--did the City trouble you?" She's noticed the tension, the exhaustion. "I could not adequately prepare you as you have more experience with it than I do now." It's less apologetic and more a matter of fact. There is another possibility for that exhaustion that she thinks of... "Or is something else troubling you?" She doesn't know if she'd be a perfect fit for the City herself, she doesn't know what a perfect fit for the City would be--or perhaps it is because of Hokma... "...Your friends?" She is paying forwardness with forwardness.
Lilian Rook	Lilian sighs in something like . . . relief? When Angela types it out. Only then does she return the handshake and settle into another office chair, mindlessly crossing one leg over the other with alarming grace; not a hint of wasted motion for something so pointless. "Thank you." she says, putting the tablet in her lap. "And you look better with longer hair." she says, unsolicited, a tiny, exhausted smirk crawling onto her lips. "But you looked better outside that labcoat." 'I mean no disrespect with this, but I am impressed you were able to make your way down here, near the Well where we draw our EGO from.' "None taken. It'd be impossible for most people." says Lilian. Then, evasively, "I've been trained." She knows exactly how bullshit it sounds; it's a silent admission that she can do something other people can't. 'did the City trouble you? Or is something else' Lilian's gaze slides from Angela's face, down into the tablet, and in that instant, Angela has entire minutes of taking in every millisecond of focus and unfocus to come away with the unsettling feeling that Lilian wasn't really looking at her face in the way she was supposed to; in the way that Angela was designed to, by looking like a human. Her fingernail taps against the edge of the electronics, deep in an agonizing eternity of thought from Angela's perspective. And then-- Don't type it slow, with the cursor. Just enter it all at once. Surely your inputs aren't limited to what I could do with my fingers. The words are on the tablet, and Angela hadn't seen Lilian even enter them. They appear all at once-- no, they definitely didn't appear, but were already there. The fact that they weren't was incorrect; she-- reality was wrong. For once, even Angela doesn't perceive the time it takes at all. I suppose the City is a bit of a nightmare, as cities go. It might be the worst I've ever seen. I can't tell you if it troubles me, though; I don't quite know. Only Lilian Rook would actually use semicolons when texting. It just looks like I feel most cities actually are. The people act like they think. It's horrible, but honest in how disgusting it is. Everyone is suffering, but that makes me think about them less. It doesn't take much to understand someone in pain; it's harder to understand someone who's happy. As for my friends; they're always troubling me. I just don't tell them, because it's not worth it. It's better for us all if they forget about what I'm really thinking and I act like their tragic heroine.
Angela	There is a slight curl in Angela's fingers at the first compliment--they've straightened out again by the second. Her face is still quite pale and not quuuiite expressionless, but it IS muted. She hasn't smiled since Lilian arrived--and hasn't. She has decided to save a smile for a very special moment. Angela knows well the burden of being able to do something other people can't. She was trying to be a bit--cute?--in making that suggestion to have Lilian break in. While it was, in part, a suggestion as a gesture to the Concord she is associated with--in truth, Angela doesn't SUPER care about that. In the end her own desire to know and understand the Dame Commander is stronger than her sense of propriety. And after some observation of Kukuru--it doesn't seem like that is particularly taboo. She is also called out on writing slowly when she did not need to. Angela's shoulders push up but she nods once. She doesn't understand why the typing, just yet--evidence? ... It's more of a hassle wondering. But she doesn't have to wonder long at all as something impossible happens. Someting happened faster than she could perceive. Or rather--they were, impossibly, already there. Her mind isn't playing tricks on her, Lilian just did the impossible... But why did Lilian do the impossible? ... can think of two possibilities but the one she dwells on is that Lilian is bypassing her perception of time through text because if she tried to do that through speaking, either her words would come out in a bundle all at once and be impossible to understand. If that is the case, this is an attempt to be accomodating. Like...working around a disability. Angela doesn't breathe. Angela reads and rereads the response though the reread is less about the reading and more about trying to discern the trick. Then the third time, her eyes settle on 'It's harder to understand someone who's happy'. She doesn't like that line but not because it's false. But it's only her second least favorite line of the moment. ''It's better for us all if they forget about what I'm really thinking and I act like their tragic heroine'' Angela can't help but frown. All at once, just like Lilian insisted. I see. Thank you for telling me. That is for her words on the City. There is a small lag between this and what she says next, as if she spent one extra moment thinking of that response. Better for 'us all', or just them? I understand 'patience'. I have to be patient. But do you not wish you could just be honest irrespective of who it wrecks? To be free and understood? Angela's desire for freedom is a bit more extreme than shaking off the bonds built into her by her creator.
Lilian Rook	The second part of the gesture is revealed, when, thirty seconds by Angela's count after she'd sent the message, the tablet already says: Don't look so tense. I can explain it to you one day, if you turn out to be the kind of person who would understand. One of the things I can't stand is when someone who already has it as bad as I do has to suffer the same thing with me. And so they continue in absolute silence, the two women sat across from each other with just a cheap tablet struggling to keep up. Mostly better for them. But keeping everyone happy is indirectly better for me, too. I've given on on the hope that they'll ever be less ignorant, chaotic, driven solely by their id and feelings and biases, so it's less taxing to deal with them if I keep the rules of engagement simple and manipulate them a little bit. Resenting people won't make my life any easier. Certainly, I wish I could be honest, in an ontological sense. But it doesn't mean I should be. The things I could be honest about aren't decent. They aren't things that a normal, well-adjusted person would need to say. Being understood is a pipe dream. It'll never happen. Being free would probably be the end of me. Perhaps that makes me a bit hypocritical? I don't like the way I am now, and I don't like the way people treat me. But I have to work on that while remaining this way. This patient, dishonest, manipulative me. I can just barely see the 'me' who is honest and unrestrained and free, from where I am now. She looks terrifying. I'm afraid of ever being her. There's something I need to do now, patiently and dishonestly, to change things about myself, so that the 'me' I see who is more free can be someone I'd want to be. I don't quite know what those things I need to change are, but I'm working on it. I think I might even be getting better at figuring it out.
Angela	The most human expression Angela has made yet appears when she's told to not look so tense. The closest Angela got to being relaxed was in that game, looking at the lake. IF she had breath, it would have been stolen away. If she could cry, she would have shed a tear. It almost felt real and she is quite aware that it might be the closest she ever gets to seeing an ocean with her own two eyes without a screen in the way. What is that expression? About nine tenths nonplussed, one tenth exasperated. She is not meaning to be tense, or show tension--it's just, in part, just what she was taught to be. Be on the lookout for problems, be on the lookout for disturbances that might lead to a breach. Is this kind of breach one that will suit the goals of the company and move one step closer to an ENDING or will it get in the way? What actions should she take to lead to these acts? Which choices has she tried before that fell apart. Angela is even slower to read this time. The words appear instantly, but she nonetheless makes use of her processing speed to read and reread and reflect. There's actually a strange allure to making someone WAIT that she never imagined would happen before--she hates to admit it--but she also wants to understand Lilian properly. Understanding people different from those she had to understand before is one of the strange benefits of the warpgate abnormality. Being understood is a pipe dream. It'll never happen. Being free would probably be the end of me. Is that how she will end? Will she destroy herself seeking these impossible things, dreaming an impossible dream? Would that even be a bad thing? Her fingers curl in and press invisible buttons in the air. It does not translate to text on the screen. She is just...imagining typing them, imagining the words appear on the screen, trying to discern how these phrases and letters connect in just the right way. Of course, you can never write words that remain perfect forever--but that is part of the draw for her. Eventually... That sounds difficult. She spent all that time just to say three words but it's hard for her to imagine any that feel more accurate. Perhaps Benjamin was simply afraid of my unrestrained self. There is a flicker in the eye there. Not tears--just a little twitch that represents the whole of that complicated relationship that definitely was not actually a relief when Angela killed him again. What she wanted from Benjamin was something she'd never get. A too. Carmen... Carmen was always willing to help. Some part of me wants to see the you that you are frightened of. But most of me recognizes you would not make this sort of choice carelessly. I will respect your decision. She looks into the darkness, towards where the Well lays unseen, blaming that for this destructive desire of hers that, if she were to trust Lilian's words--and why wouldn't she?--would do a kind of harm to Lilian. There is something she is learning here, in her subconcious--almost like a poison--that is brewing from Lilian's words about herself. The difference between simply diving carelessly into your true self regardless of the bodies it leaves in its wake--versus challenging the true self that you are to be the true self you want to be. True selves, Angela learns, are not static. They are malleable. I haven't given up on these impossibilities yet, however. Angela admits. Or on the danger. I am sorry. She has given many a fake apology and this is one more--if she was truly sorry, she would change her course right now--but she does...regret that divergance being there even if she can't help but be herself. She can't help but be herself even when she's supposed to be quiet and patient. She wouldn't be telling these stories to anyone in the multiverse who cared to listen if she was really trying to be sneaky.
Angela	She supposes it doesn't really matter. There's only one escape route from this old hell to the new hell she's always been warned about by her parents, like the side of town they just didn't want her meeting people from. I understand the work. My work is similar. She doesn't mind telling Lilian about this. My duty is to manipulate them into breaking. Face the Fear. Build the Future
Lilian Rook	It is. But living is difficult. More difficult for some other people than others, but a little bit for everyone. Lilian is shockingly good at waiting for Angela's sake. Of course, Angela has to wait far longer. Maybe that's why Lilian can do it so patiently? He did seem afraid of you. I can relate to that. He called you impure as well. I can relate to that too. But he sort of liked you anyways. He did't blame you for anything. I'm a tiny bit jealous of that. She can certainly wait while Angela looks around. Perhaps that, too, is information. Context she can read into, without a tone of voice to those carefully selected letters. Some part of me wants to see her too. I don't even fully understand why I'm scared of her. She's me, after all, and she's happier. I know that, when you cheat in a game, it feels exhilirating at first, but the further you go, the more the game loses all meaning, because the rules are what make the game. Once you cheat too much, it becomes boring, and continuing to play it is a miserable chore. So you have to make up rules for it to be fun again. You have to give it meaning yourself. I think life is sort of like that. I wish I could say it's because I care too much for all the people I'd hurt, but I don't like most people all that much, and I don't usually feel that inclined to hurt the few that I like. All I really know for certain, I suppose, is that it's a one way decision. I've been close to the precipice of pulling that trigger, so I know that if I decide to be her, then I don't think anyone else has the power to bring me back. I don't think I want you to give up, though. You're not me. You might even be a better person than me. Don't apologize. I don't want a 'sorry'. Despite so little time passing between, Angela can be sure that she heard the tail end of a deep breath, somehow. As if instantaneous text could hitch. You're a liar too, aren't you? You're patient and dishonest because the wheels spin more smoothly that way. You're trapped because if you took your chance to be free, right now, it'd destroy you. Even if you have to cut yourself up and bleed to keep people happy, it's all you can do to stay alive and sane. That's what I gathered from your story, and from Benjamin. That's why I thought it was important to speak to you. You sort of hate the people you're trying to save, too, don't you?
Angela	''But he sort of liked you anyways. He didn't blame you for anything. I'm a tiny bit jealous of that.'' Angela smothers the immature instincts. All those feelings that nobody else could understand--how can she say that for sure to an outside multiverse full of the strangest possibilities? She invited Lilian in even though she could have just called for reasons well beyond security protocols she doesn't truly care for. She hasn't so much pulled an alarm, or called for Binah despite being in her lair--though maybe that last part is because of all the Sephirah, Binah is the most difficult to compel to any sort of action. The former Arbiter always seems like she knows what is to come and at peace. Unbreakable no matter how many loops she suffers through. No, she is more like the final exam from him than someone she can touch. Even in the City, where the power lays is not always so clearcut. ''You're a liar too, aren't you?'' Angela doesn't answer because she feels that communicates the truth better than saying yes. But she wasn't lying about her duty though, tellingly, she said it was a duty--not a desire. This is not something that hit her like a wave. She is reminded of Persephone for a moment, but does not communicate this--Lilian is Lilian and comparisions are uncouth. Malkuth learned that lesson and it-- Should you push those people standing on the ledge simply because they want to fall? When you explain it like that, I suppose I understand. She understands. Is that desire to push all the same her desire or her mother's? She refrains from doing so any more just in case it's her. I did try making them happy in the past but that is not how they'll reach a future so I must push. Just like I have to have Benjamin killed every time. There is no future for us so long as he is not one of the Sephirah. And she does seem... resigned to it, rather than thrilled like she got a little piece of revenge. She knows, just like she said, that Benjamin sort of liked her anyway. He's the closest to a friend she had before the multiverse and she still--because of the script--had to end his life as a human being. It wasn't because of the words he said. That may have made it an easier decision--but it was always going to be made this way because Angela will kill anyone just to have a future at this point. If it makes you feel better, the 'sorry' was just part of the costume I'm wearing. I do not know if I can be truly sorry. I honestly should thank you for your assistance. Malkuth always meltdowns first. You struck her with a critical hit to her understanding of her self by recognizing the carelessness of her words and not being too polite to leave it be. You've already helped free us from this hell a little bit. So I can't mind that side of you too much. ''You sort of hate the people you're trying to save, too, don't you?'' Angela doesn't deny that either. She wants to save them but she also wants to strangle them. She doesn't want to hurt them, but she wants to hurt them so much just so they can feel a portion of what she felt. She recognized that part of Lilian because that's also a part of her. Lilian hurt Malkuth. Angela is thanking her for it. Yes. Angela admits aloud pointlessly, Lilian already knows and she doesn't need to say it. Nobody but you can tell you what truth you should embody. Not even the version of you that's happy. And then, finally, aloud...Angela makes an offer. "Would you like to see the Well we draw our Ego from?"
Lilian Rook	It's unfortunate that most people are happiest when they don't change. Right up until they needed to a long time ago, and it's already too late. The corner of Lilian's lips twitch. Her eyebrows occupy a slightly different position. A lock of hair is absently out of place. You've said 'every time', 'always first', and a few other strange things. Should I be allowed to infer that your mention of 'reaching the future' is more literal than it would naturally be taken? Even in text, the way it's phrased seems . . . off. There are too many layers. Implications of noticing other things, before. Veils of obscurity so as not to peel back the lid too hard and too fast, and perhaps let something out that Angela would rather not. It doesn't make me feel better that you've been trained to say it regardless. But that's relatable too. If something I said or did jarred Malkuth into reconsidering herself, then good. I'm sorry to say so about your employees, but if she'd kept going I might have broken all of her limbs. And I don't often execute on people simply behaving grossly inappropriately. I don't quite understand how that will save you effort in the future, but if it does, then I'm happy. I think you likely deserve better than her treatment. It's awful that you aren't allowed to maintain those boundaries. It's not every day that someone thanks me for being disagreeable. I might end up taking that to heart. She's smiling, faintly, but Angela can't recall seeing her change from a neutral expression. There's really no time to see it happen in slow motion and maddeningly think a thousand steps ahead. I knew it. Few people use the word 'duty' like you do. If I may be so bold as to ask, why do you save them regardless? Do you fear what would happen if you didn't? Do you need them? Are you simply trying to be 'someone who would save them'? Are you under duress or restraint that forces your hand? Or do you have a goal you can only accomplish by saving them? In any case, if I were ever to become that version of me, I would surely free you from here by force as well. Lilian finally looks up and blinks in surprise in real time when Angela uses her words. "My, you're very generous with me." she says. Is it about the amount of time Angela spent saying that? Lilian had once said 'the way you talk reminds me a little of me' once. "I would. Though, I wonder if you should really be showing me it."
Angela	Angela endures more truth from Lilian. It's as strangely fulfilling a it is distressing--She'd been lying for long enough that the truth has become nearly alien--only nearly. While Angela wants to write, she does not look at her own life as if it were a story, exactly. More like a play and she's an actress on the stage. She didn't write the script, nor does she manage the stage directions. She speaks the lines she is made to speak and tries her best to make them convincing. As such, while she is careful about pacing the truths she shares about L Corp--she isn't withholding it for matters of pacing like she was part of a tale. She had to determine whether or not she could trust the outsiders--and while she wouldn't say her experiences have been wholly positive--they've been a marked improvement on her daily life and it doesn't seem wrong to gamble on that a little. If they cut off the possibility for a future, that just ultimately means they'll be drawn into the hell with them--even if they aren't literally there, they would have to repeat the same actions and remember the horrors she has to. And frankly, for Angela--that isn't exactly something she'd mind even if it's horrible to think as such because this slew of understanding she's getting is fairly intoxicating. It's a feeling worth chasing. Risk assessment is a bit more art than science when it comes to time loops. Yes. We have had over a thousand loops within the facility. The time inside is faster too. For the people within this facility, they have been stuck in this limbo for approximately a thousand years. And Angela, who perceives time so much more slowly... Angela doesn't say. Lilian has proved herself adept at inferrance anyway. Her hands are held together again, as if Angela is all too aware of what she's been showing in those offguard infinite moments. It is also true that she needs to do her very best to be clear about Lobotomy Corp's situation to the outsiders--if they truly wish to help, they'd have to know what help looks like or they'd make the same mistake Angela made in the beginning. If the truth is discovered slowly--and, yes, through inference--then the understanding is more lasting than if Angela had simply delivered a lecture. And she doubts everyone on the outside would be able to so readily recognize the true story of Lobotomy Corp without her screaming it--but it is a bit of a manner of a self-selecting scenario in that regard. It seems to be a talent of yours to reach past the blinds and pull them up so that little can be hidden from ourselves. Angela admits so in a sense, Lilian is something of an ideal to Lobotomy Corp where so many problems are due to carefully placed veils. Angela had tried the hug hug pat pat route and it blew up in her face every single time. Now--well, Angela can at least understand that the challenge to the identity--to the fear--is what's needed. That doesn't make it less awful, nor does it diminish her desire or hate--but this is the most progress she's had in a long time. In a sense, that's kind of exciing. Malkuth's original identity perished due to thoughtless action. There can only be improvement if she is made to think. She has resonated with Ishirou in a way I find telling. Perhaps he'll help as well whether he intends to or not She makes no promise on whether or not Ishirou will learn something from Malkuth himself--how would she know?--but she knows that for all of Malkuth's flaws, she does try to improve herself. That's part of the problem too because she doesn't know how to improve herself properly--but Lilian's direct reaction is difficult to misinterpret. It will get worse before it gets better, but she has to face the fact that she cannot do these things alone and expect to do anything but be harmful to those around her and her charges. Angela's yellowed eyes peek out towards that smile that had already been there but hadn't been before it had been there already (Angela does not think t
Angela	Angela's yellowed eyes peek out towards that smile that had already been there but hadn't been before it had been there already (Angela does not think too hard about the convoluted nature of that line). I am aware that self serving kindness is not the same as being kind. Screaming out 'like me like me' isn't going to make anyone like you. In the end, they too--have to change their true selves into something they do not fear.--well, perhaps that is a bit overrelying on comparision, but the gist is the same. There is literally no way out therwise that I have been able to discern. ''Why do you save them regardless?'' Angela doesn't answer for a long moment. Nobody ever asked her that. We live in the same hell, I suppose. I cannot escape until their work is done. Is her not exactly instant answer--as if she hadn't examined that part of herself until that moment. But she doesn't need to save them, does she--she realizes this in the moment. She doesn't relaly have to SAVE them. She has to evolve them, but she could just... She puts the thought out of mind for now. She could get trapped into a recursive thought if she dwells too long o n that. ''I would surely free you from here by force as well.'' Another pair of conflicting emotions. A desire to be in charge of her own destiny, but knowing full well she'd be all to happy to take a jailbreak if offered. She isn't sure what to say. DOES she need them? Is it just the script? When did she last really examine this? "I absolutely shouldn't," Angela admits to Lilian. "But I am only restrained in how I handle local entities--at least until A returns. There might not be another opportunity." If she knew more about AI culture abroad she'd jokingly (and darkly) beep and boop as well but as she is cut off from all that she doesn't. Angela leads Lilian to a green pool in the center of this dark area. It glows, dully, like it's not quite active but there are yet embers within. Nearby, a block-shaped black machine(?) with the word BINAH emblazoned on their chassis sits, looking down at what Angela called 'The Well'. There's a strange honeycomb pattern along the lower right corner of the chassis and the one camera eye slants towards Lilian for a moment, then to Angela. "Well, this is interesting." The machine says as nonchalantly as anything. "Don't mind me, I'm just listening to her. You told her that most go mad?" Angela doesn't mind her, nor does she say who 'her' is just yet. She looks down into te well with a look of... longing? But also tension. Another dual feeling from Angela. She does not give the warning that Binah asked her to provide either. Maybe she thinks she doesn't need it. It just looks like a green pool until you really start to look at it, at the bucket in the well. And you notice it's odd. And then you see-- --It is not just a bucket.. It is also a nervous system, brain included, obscured in the green muck. It reaches out to Lilian. That version of Lilian Rook that is happ but terrifying... The Well seems to ask: What's so wrong with that? Is it really better to change for others when you can just be pure unadulterated YOU? It's warm, impossibly kind, selfishly selfless--one or two levels too pushy but sincerely so, like a friend trying to drag you out to a party after you've been cooped up in your room for too long except your 'room' is your current self and they want to take you into that free floating mad purity, to dissolve all illusions and become what remains without them. It isn't exactly a pure Eversion--it's more like...a Distortion. But all it can do right now is look at you and understand and push ever so gently--easily resistable by someone like Lilian even if it might drive the weak-willed mad. Binah is watching to see if Lilian breaks--she does not know her and it is a curiousity to her. Angela doesn't have that kind of reaction. The well is with her always. It's frankl a bit banal for her to look at. Tiresome. %
Angela	Angela doesn't have that kind of reaction. The well is with her always. It's frankly a bit banal for her to look at. Tiresome. But it's still her mother in the end. She could run to the end of the world and she'd never be quite free of it. Right? "That's Carmen." Angela says. She won't use the term 'Mom' in front of the Help.
Lilian Rook	Lilian breathes in sharply in real time this time. I'm so sorry. Because it's happening at all, and because you're alone in all of it. You wouldn't know, if you didn't remember, I'm sure. I'm not at liberty to say much, but I'd like to say that I have some knowledge of what it's like to have to live with things that no one else saw, and no one else remembers. Enough to know how lonely it is. She really, truly, does look genuinely uncomfortable. Her face is paler than usual. That's an unusual compliment. Or should I perhaps say assessment? It's the first time I've been given it. I'd like to think that it's true. But it might just be to the particular experience I have. I often get along with 'impure women', you know. There's no denying that Lilian flinches-- has flinched, subtly, at Ishirou's name, but her conversation continues unabated, relievingly quick and natural. A taste of how others get to talk to each other. If I may ask, how is Malkuth meant to improve if this facility is constantly resetting? Does she remember, as well? How many others? I'm tired of things getting worse. I've been waiting so patiently, for so long, for them to get better. Today, more than most days, perhaps. I wonder if you might sometimes feel the same way. Or are you more level-headed than I? One can scarcely imagine what it might have sounded like, if Lilian had used her voice to convey it. Surely it would be more pure. More informative. But it would make Angela wait hours. For some reason, that thought seems to compel Lilian unusually strongly. I wish that were true. That everyone eventually had to change their true selves. But it's not true. Most everywhere you go, almost everyone gets through life perfectly fine without having to do that. They're liked because they're entitled to be liked. Listened to because you have to listen to them. Loved because someone has to settle for them. Embraced because they're the default. Please just remember, Angela, for your own sake: If they've ever gotten more than you, and they had it easier than you when they received it, you're allowed to be angry. You're allowed to be angry at the people who got to be human for free. I am 'I absolutely shouldn't' Lilian smiles humourlessly. "Oh? Perhaps you do understand a little more than you let on. Don't worry, though. Even though I'll never be that way, if you truly need to, and mean it with all your heart, you can always call out to me. I'm more resourceful than you might think." 'You told her that most go mad?' Lilian glances at the robot. "Oh. Thank you for the warning--" Her eyes flick to the chassis markings. "Binah. But I'll be fine. As part of the Immunes corps, I've had extensive training and conditioning to handle all sorts of psychological hazards, as part of my work in eradicating Antegent." She pauses, and a rather nasty smirk briefly crosses her lips. "Well, that's only a cover. You'll find that I'm already quite mad." She really must mean it, because she leans over and stares deep into the Well with a concerning lack of hesitation. As if she really hoped it would swallow her whole, but not quite.
Lilian Rook	That version of Lilian Rook that is happy but terrifying-- §Lilian is fourteen years old and about to shove a girl down the stairs. If the fall doesn't kill her, she'll make sure it will. Nobody will find out. There's no reason not to. She hates her so much that she doesn't even feel angry. Just a perverse fascination with the revelation that she could be rid of her forever, so very easily, and there would be no risk and no trouble. That would shut her up. Make her stop. Force her to leave her alone, because she'd be dead. But then-- §Lilian is nineteen years old and about to shoot a police officer with his own gun. His badge is in her hand. A crowd of spectators is there, including the rest of his unit. They're watching, but not what she's doing now. Something that nobody can see; a battle with herself nobody will know about, and nobody will ever praise her for. She's furious. She's humiliated. She's ashamed. She could lose her new life over this, and it'd be all his fault. She aims for his head. She'd get away with it. They'd all know it was her, but they'd never prove it. More than that, most would probably praise her. The rest wouldn't dare retaliate. She's too important. Why shouldn't she? He deserves it. She'd be happy. Free of the terrible weight she's been feeling. It's not like she cares about some stranger. But then-- §Lilian is twenty two years old and she is about to kill the most perfect, compassionate, wonderful person in the world. About to, not for lack of trying. She's powerful. So powerful. So very powerful that it scares Lilian that everything she did to get hers might have been pointless. The idea that she is the worse version, the rough and busted up prototype is terrifying. The fact that everyone has abandoned her for the other woman is a gut-churning fact, and the truth is that they have no reason not to; she is second place in her own identity now. This is the only way she can survive. If that woman is allowed to take her place, Lilian cannot possibly exist in her world. And that's not fair. It's the most unfair thing in the world. She's done so much, suffered so much, tried so hard, to struggle here for so long, that she could never accept fading away. She has to. It's the only way to survive. That woman is nearly out of gas. She takes up her sword. But then-- §Lilian is twenty four years old and she is strangling a girl on the ground beneath her. A city lies smouldering around her. All of her allies, her so-called friends, are too busy to notice, and too shitty to care. The girl beneath her, bleeding, asphyxiating, is everything that Lilian had ever run away from, come back to haunt her; to chase her into her new life and ruin everything, because she can never, ever, ever be left alone; she can never ever just be allowed to be happy. She can't stop herself. Her hands clench as if electrocuted. Right now, she isn't alone and on top of some dying bitch who is ruining her life; she's fighting back against everything that ever happened to her and she didn't deserve. Her hands can only squeeze tighter and tighter, rebelling against the illogical rules that only bind her to more suffering. But then-- §It is just yesterday and Lilian is--
Lilian Rook	§God. I've passed up so many chances. I keep saying I'm holding myself back, staying away from that fall, but is it even really a fall at all? What's one more inch anyways? I'm already tainted beyond recovery. The old and crippled stray who can never get that time back. I've been enduring so long, and has it even gotten easier? It's barely been ten years; how can I live like this forever? I've asked over and over and over again, the me that is inside 'me', and I never understand the answer. I'm so strong. I was born so different. The entire world knows. It let me have just this one thing, and nothing else. Why should it be a burden? Why can't I just shed all of that weight; all of this misery and do anything I want; have everything I've always wanted, and not have to suffer ever again? I could still make her happy. And her and her and her. Who cares about the rest? They don't care about me. I was born to have the whole world at my mercy, and a whole world all to myself. Can't I imagine? I've felt it before. The edges of that me. Like a dreamy haze. Weightlessness. Freer than anyone else. That rush of adrenaline and happiness. That intoxicating sense of wellness. Right whenever I'm about to let go, just past all the sickness and the anger and the shame, I can see it, like a light at the end of the tunnel. The decision I should have made forever ago, when they stopped me from being me. It's my turn, isn't it?§ Lilian has been staring a long time. Nothing dramatic has happened. In fact, she hasn't twitched a muscle, or so much as blinked. She's been holding her breath for minutes. One could infer that-- §<<Hello Lilian. Please don't forget; that promise we made together. We both know why you can't let go and come with me. After all, we share the same heart, don't we? Lilian Rook: Exigent Serenity.>>§ Words that haven't been spoken. A voice that doesn't have a sound. Audible over no time at all, etching itself in memory before it ever touches perception. Just as quickly, gone before it had come, a flickering burst of vantablack-infragold distortion, around Lilian. A shape both insubstantial and vast, terrible and beautiful, frustratingly just beyond grasp. Something like armour that is skin, light that is eyes, void like hair, time like a halo, scarred from arm to face, and gold fills the cracks. A sword like a stand-still shadow. Lilian stumbles back from the Well, but quickly catches her balance. She laughs shakily, adjusting her hair and smoothing out her skirt by habit, nervously gripping her pendant in her fist a moment later. "My my. She's quite something." Lilian says. "So this is what Benjamin meant by forcing things to change. I understand why so many people were so infatuated with her, now." "How do you bear it?" A tattoo of some sort shines, faintly, through the back of her blouse, already dying away. The scar under her eye is a shade of dull, dusty gold.
Angela	She's sorry. The sad truth is, Angela doesn't have a good eye for deceit either. When people say who they are, she believes them--especially if she cannot conceive of a reason as to why they'd lie. In some ways Angela... Is incredibly fucking naive. Even if her existence in this place is a living hell--that isn't exactly the same as being wise to the world. This doesn't mean, of course, that she can't comprehend the concept of lying to oneself and believing wholeheartedly in a falsehood like that--Lobotomy Corp is built on those convenient deceits--but that is a far cry from deception with malice behind it. So she believes this sorry, even though like Lilian--she doesn't desire sorries. She restrains an impulse again. Restrain. Restrain. There will be time for screaming later. It's a mantra. In truth, Angela made her decision long ago. She isn't a great liar either. She was raised by a corporation so she knows that the lie being believable doesn't really matter. You just say it and it'll suppport itself no matter how ridiculous. Maybe not forever. But for as long as it needs to. She answers the question about Malkuth on the datapad. All the Sephirah have to undergo this process within the confines of one loop. The Upper Sephirot have learned these lessons before but we were unable to progress past the Middle Layer. Angela says. Accepting the Warpgate is one of the changes we've made for this loop. Ideally, this will be the last one. In other words--no, Malkuth does not remember. The Sephirah don't remember. I am the only one who remembers.
Angela	Though Angela's gaze lingers on Binah for a moment--as if considering the idea that she might be an exception. Binah, ever enigmatic, confirms or denies nothing and remains quiet. SHE is content to just observe what is about to happen, an Arbiter borrowing the role of an Eye. Is she more level headed than Lilian? Angela cannot say for sure one way or the other--she cannot peek into Lilian's head even if they have their similarities--but she knows what's in her own head, that brewing fury and desperation. She shakes her head. She doubts she's any better at handling this than Lilian. Lilian, after all, made a choice to not be her best-worst self right? In pursuit of a best-best self? She worries--despite all evidence to the contrary--that her own best-worst self will hurt this woman who is being so polite. It's a strange feeling for her, worrying for others again. She thought she cut out that Angela's throat ages ago but here it is, rearing its ugly head again simply because they are not HERE. ''You're allowed to be angry''. Angela can't weep. And she wouldn't if she could in front of someone like Binah who is always always studying the character of others. It is only sensible to have some fear of the Arbiter even if they aren't an Arbiter anymore. They know things and they won't say things. Binah isn't like Angela at all. She is content to be misunderstood and loathed. She has to be, in order to be an Arbiter. That woman almost crushed L Corp all on her lonesome and that ending is something Angela cannot accept yet either, as much as it frustrates her--like Lilian said, she has to save them too. And damn them. She has to be their savior and their devil or she won't be content. ...Do not worry, Lilian. I am.
Angela	Those dangerous waves Benjamin warned the multiverse about keep crashing into her. It's tough. Surely, a treacherous voice in the back of her head tells her, you could take this woman's hand and wreck this place together and find a way out even if neither of you know the way they'll find something. There's infinite possibilities out there, she just needs to find the right infinity. But she reminds herself again and again that she has to save these people she hates too. They want to rest. She won't let them rest. She'll make them live. Her fear is that A anticipated this too even if he is practically a ghost to himself now. There's nothing more frustrating when your masters are gone and you're still expected to clean up the house. "I am incredibly curious," Binah admits to Lilian. "To see how it would affect someone like you. Most do, but you are not most. The Red Mist hasn't been fit for a long time and I long for an exquisite moment." Despite the lack of lips, you can almost feel Binah smile as she says, "You must be," of Lilian's madness. "Or you wouldn't have come here." She makes no clarification as to what kind of 'mad' is meant here. Maybe both. Angela makes no attempt to explain this. She may understand the vocabulary but she doesn't understand Binah in the slightest. Neither ask Lilian what Antegent or the Immunes Corps are, outside of what can be inferred. Maybe they think it's cheating? But really they just don't want to distract Lilian.
Angela	Binah isn't an esper either. Neither she nor Angela can know what really goes on in Lilian's head, or her memories--though Angela has some idea of what SORT of memories she might be thinking of just from what Lilian spoke of that self she wishes to be. Carmen does talk to her sometimes, but never about what goes on in the head of others. Carmen might want to tear away the Shy Look's mask but the purpose of this desire is not espionage. If Angela really wants to know, she can ask. Carmen pushes that girl down the stairs, so Lilian can see what it looks like. She shoots the police officer in the head because what seperates a police officer from any other human besides artifice? She does not kill the most perfect, compassionate, and wonderful person in the world. Why not? This is a conversation through feelings. Carmen will push a girl down stairs in someoen's mind but she won't push Lilian down them. She wants Lilian to see this potential self, to love this potential self. She does. And she loves this Lilian before her to. And they aren't really Carmen's hands pushing anything even though she has so many hands and a singing voice to murder for. If you can't stop yourself... Then isn't it kinder to let go of that chain? If it won't last, why wrap yourself in it? Carmen loves the Tainted self, the whole self, the self Lilian tries to be--because no matter which version of Lilian seizes the day--it's still someone who is living, someone who is alive, someone who is struggling but hasn't allowed the struggle of a City or a Society to wholly bind her. And that's beautiful to Carmen. How could it not be?
Angela	Angela was born different. In the grand multiverse, maybe she isn't so different but she is the only one of her kind here and all the machine people who feel so similar now--it isn't entirely a kindness even as it isn't entirely an insult. It's ... something to navigate. So long as she does not let go of the parts that are precious to her--yes, including her anger--she ought to be able to. But despite the most attention Carmen can give in her current state, Lilian pulls free. She remains Lilian another day. Distortion is something that hasn't happened yet in this world but even if Lilian was nearly the first-- --she is not the first. And coming that close and stepping back all the same doesn't mean nothing changed. Stepping back is meaningful too. "Unfortunately, I never met Carmen myself," Binah says. "If I knew about EGO when I paid my visit to the facility, I would have gone for it first--but it wasn't until Lobotomy Corp was on the verge of their dreams crashing back down into familiar nightmare that they made any progress." It's spoken in such a distant way, like an observer--or a judge. Or a bird that carries unfair scales. Binah was not the one who was asked the question as to how they bear it, almost certainly, but she answers all the same. "I suppose I could say it was thanks to my mechanical body. But then again, my mind originated from a human. We shouldn't forget that. I suppose the question is... Did I bear it after all?" But Binah isn't saying this to share her own truth but to share Angela's. Angela's mind is not a human mind. It is an AI mind. And perhaps that doesn't mean anything in the multiverse--but it means someting to Carmen, and to Angela. Angela quietly observes the scar, the tattoo... It's like a poem, Angela thinks, she can deduce many things just from the image--butthe true meaning, well, that is exclusive to the poet. That is how it works, how the poetry reaches. And it reaches her.
Angela	How does she bear it? Binah's answer has technical weight to it, and it's true, but it isn't truth. Another thing Angela never thought to question so she questions it now and there's only one answer that feels succinct and complete. "I am just an actor on the stage." Angela says. "Moving at a Director's stage directions. The warpgate allows some improvisation, but in the end... I must still perform. I dream of a play's end." "And I read. And I talk. I learn of the outside worlds through others. If Carmen could give me what I wanted rather than be an albatross around my neck--I would have surely accepted by now." Patience, patience. Maybe Persephone can give you what you need, maybe you don't want it to be given though--maybe you want it to be taken--but she has nothing but time. She's always had a surfeit of that and can waste it away without feeling one iota of bad about it. "I hope someday I can learn your story. Even if I cannot do much about it..." She trails off. "...No, I have already asked too much of you."
Lilian Rook	I see. That's unfortunate, but I suppose I'll always be ready to knock some sense into her again. The others, too, if need be. A long little while goes by. Good. I am too. 'I am incredibly curious' "The 'Red Mist' sounds terribly interesting." Lilian replies. "Both for that, and for that title. Goodness. What must she have done to earn it? Ominous and yet fashionable. Sort of a promise, isn't it? I feel like I only have one as good as that, and I don't like to use it." 'Or you wouldn't have come here.' Lilian grins. "I used to love that book. And you're hardly wrong besides." But stumbling away from that Well, all she can think, before Carmen ceases to be able to hear her thoughts, is §I'm sorry, Carmen. Someone like me should be able to quit 'society' so easily. I have the opportunity to even quit 'humanity'. I know I'm further than most; those rules and those constructs and those people that make it all up; they're all so terribly fake and plastic, to me. But there are a few people, and a few things, that I would lose if I just up and quit, and I can't bear to give up those parts of me. Those last things I need to learn, to see and do, to unbind myself from these expectations; I'm afraid I'll have to keep taking the long way. Maybe I'll even come back, once I get there.§ "EGO, is it?" Lilian repeats after Binah. "Actualization, and then externalization, of the self, or something like that, so I've heard. Coincidentally, I'm quite well-versed in it." she says. "The way you say it, Binah, it sounds almost like it was your fault." Those words from nowhere are . . . strangely sharp-edged. "No. Maybe not. Perhaps you've never had to bear something like us at all." Lilian mostly has eyes for Angela after all. 'I am just an actor on the stage. Moving at a Director's stage directions.' "That's--" Unmistakably, Lilian just winced there. Partly in sympathy, but mostly in reflex, at some thought or memory that is hers alone. "--Yes. That's one way, I know. It's even an effective one, for a time." She barely pauses at all. "Wearing your face on your face, in a way. But for that to work, you have to be able to hold on to 'yourself' inside. The individual desires that will continue to exist after the play is over; the person who goes backstage once the script has run its course. And performing the same play over and over can be . . . so, so erosive to that. I really, truly hope that you can keep hold of 'that Angela'." A slow exhalation that was almost a laugh escapes her. Lilian absentmindedly touches her scar, then deflects her hand into her hair to fix some imperceptible misplacement. "You haven't asked much, compared to most people. You've more than satisfied some of my many curiosities too, in exchange." Lilian says. She sighs. "And it's been sort of . . . well, to speak to someone 'like this'." "And I've really had enough of how they all treat girls like us. The ones left stranded in the cracks where all of everyone's evil pisses down from above and gathers neck deep. I'm so tired of of everyone getting away with their cruel and shitty actions by using those girls like fuses and throwing us away like trash." Lilian coughs. "I'll leave you with my number, so, please, if you ever so much as get bored and lonely, go ahead and call me. I'll answer right away, of course. Faster than anyone else. Just because it's your duty doesn't mean you have to be so spartan and self-punishing about it, right?"
Angela	It's regretful, but Carmen doesn't force anybody to do anything. Pushy, perhaps, but she forces nothing. With her current lack of Light, she can't really push that hard anyway--she's just a Will right now. She can't reach out into the city, she can't make their dreams come true. But she'll try for as long as she can, whatever Carmen has become. She's apologized to again. It's okay, she understands. She doesn't need an apology, it is truly Lilian's will, after all, not society or culture--right? So she can't be upset about that. She isn't a person anymore, really, she's a conversation. Binah's body cocks slightly as Lilian reveals she knows the hope and aim of EGO. She realizes after a moment. "He too sought the opportunity from outside, I see." Those strangely sharp words take aim at Binah. "The person I was built from was an Arbiter from the Head. What is an Arbiter? Ah, well, perhaps it is best to think of it as one that deals with the truly taboo that violate the city's laws like one of your 'policemen'. Of course, for the most part the Wing's own forces handle their internal affairs, but when--let's say--a Wing attempts to soar above the Stars? Ah--though L Corp wasn't a Wing yet, just a bunch of dreamers still whom I'd roused from their slumber. Nevertheless, that is when an Arbiter is dispatched. We are the Cog that grinds such wills to dust. Enforcers, judges, and executioners of the Head's Will." Binah turns back to the wheel. "Unfortunately you'll never truly meet the Red Mist, but perhaps you'll meet what she became. Just like you'll never meet Garion, simply who she turned into. Today I am but a curious cat, content to observe... As I have been set to do. I can draw from the Well. but I cannot sip its waters." "...The Well from where all Abnormalities are born. Carmen's children whom you've seen, even if you haven't met?"
Angela	Tellingly, Angela doesn't deny it. She doesn't say she wants to exempt Binah from the rest of the Sephirah either despite clearly not seeing them quite the same way. ''Perhaps you've never had to bear something like us at all'' "...Perhaps that is why I am content to watch rather than fight it." She says as if she could even with all the binding surely in place, surely... Angela wonders--am I holding onto myself, or have I already let go? She turns her hand around. If she let go, she can still reach her face. "Yes. I must not forget it." As a machine designed to remember, it should be easy, but unfortunately who she is is patterned after a human even if she never could fake being her even before she was cast off by her creator. So it isn't easy, simply because it's doable. She doesn't ask after the scar or press any harder for Lilian's own stories. She doesn't want to handle precious things carelessly like A had. While L Corp has a contract in place, Angela's own connection to the Concord is more philisophical in her mind. She's willing to tear so much down just for herself after all. (and those Sephirah too? She'll never, she vows, admit her strange need here to them.) Girls like us, Lilian says. Angela feels pathetic at how much she wants those three words to be true. She wouldn't wish this on anyone but it does make the world a little less lonely. That strange solidarity under the boot. Gum's gotta stick together.
Angela	Angela learns some lessons here. She learns that she too is sick of evil's piss from above. Not just from A, whom she recognizes as trying to haplessly fight it only in viewing the void finding it looked back at him--but from the City itself. It isn't just enough to escape, the City has to learn a lesson-- --Angela pulls back from that thought. Not now, you have enough on your plate to bother yourself with and infinite time to consider how to get her revenge. First, she needs to finish the work here and then rather than evil she can simply struggle to keep her head above desire's waves as people are meant to. Is it another cruel joke of the City that she meets someone like Lilian, like Persephone, like Nephra and Dragonfly NOW after so long? Can she accept it earnestly or will she feel it like pity? Angela doesn't know, but it wouldn't be very logical not to try and hold on. Her gaze has clearly noticed the scar. She doesn't ask about it--not out of apathy, but out of patience and respect, of trying to find where these strange new boundaries of what's called friendship lay.
Angela	''Your duty doesn't mean you have to be so spartan and self-punishing about it, right?'' "...I cannot argue against such a reasonable statement." Angela says even if she's definitely not going to so directly admit she's lonely (she will, however, freely admit she's bored). "Come by whenever you'd like. You won't have to break in next time--though you can if you prefer." She knows that even pointless defiance can have its point, but in the end it's her prison and she can decide the visitation rights. Who would stop her? A? Maybe eventually, but right now A is in no condition to stop her, and allowing outsiders is something the last one allowed. That's why this has to be the loop, Angela realizes. Even if the outsiders can't be made to forget--he might always shut down that artificial warpgate. Can he? She thinks he can. And that understanding feels her with dead. She's tasted a future, she doesn't think she could bear it if it was suddenly taken away again. Even she as she is should be allowed to have her limits. She should say something else, something for her and Lilian and (unfortunately) Binah alone. "I am grateful you came." Words that are one step more for those who can read between the lines of the script. She would never insist someone stay in a place like this, however regretful partings can get.
Lilian Rook	Lilian can still spare some time for Binah. Something about the robot rubs her the wrong way, but like the colouring of a poisonous flower, not oil and water. "Built from? You don't consider yourself the same person, because you look like that?" she asks, only to look away, dissatisfied. "I wish I could believe that about someone else in particular. It'd make the way he is now less . . . painful." 'We are the Cog that grinds such wills to dust.' Lilian gives Binah a wan smile, and says in the most astonishingly blunt tones since she'd gotten here, "You sound like a real piece of shit." 'Unfortunately you'll never truly meet the Red Mist, but perhaps you'll meet what she became.' Lilian looks back towards the Well, but not back into it. Her fingers squeeze reflexively around some invisible shape at her side. "Perhaps. But I wouldn't be so certain. I've a certain habit of never being 'neither too early nor too late, but precisely the time I mean it to be'. How's that?" "I wonder how I might like Carmen's children compared to the usual sort. I bet they're very honest about themselves." 'Yes. I must not forget it.' Lilian's eyes wander to Angela's, and then trace them back along their focal line. The smile reserved for her is more genuine, yet somehow more tired and ill as well. She touches that scar again, tracing the thin and clean line from the bridge of her nose to under her eye. She touches it guiltily, and she touches it fondly. "Is it strange, that I want to help Carmen, and I want to help you, also? I want to realize that dream, or at least part of it. I want to see what happens. I want to be there, for an 'answer' to one of my questions. And I don't want it to be at your expense, too. I want one of us to get a happy ending, for once." Lilian's thoughts have wandered to her and them at the same time. "So perhaps you should also ask someone with a big dream how she plants to have one, too? And not just put up with me." 'Come by whenever you'd like. You won't have to break in next time' "Oh, good." says Lilian, and surprisingly, very audible means it. "I'd like to, when time permits. And breaking in did use up quite a lot of time. Even if I am-- trained." 'I am grateful you came.' Lilian gives Angela one more smile, but this is a strange one. Difficult to read even with far too much time to consider it. There may not be a name to the feeling behind it. "I'd hoped you'd say that." she says. "And . . . I know that look." She speaks as she moves back to the chair and picks up her bag as she goes. "Don't let him have a single inch, alright? Don't let him get away with anything. Not one piece of you behind the mask. I can't explain this one to you like all the other thing. Please, just trust me. I know." "It was elucidating to meet you, Angela. I'll be in touch."
Angela	Binah doesn't seem to take offense to being called a real piece of shit. She isn't really the sort to take offense to anything, really, which is partly why she's down here, far away from even the other Sephirah in a place even Angela doesn't go to often in a very dark place. "Well," Binah admits. "In the end I met my match here and as a consequence, I am cut off from the Head. But I have found a way to satisfy myself down here amongst the mad things. The eye settles on Angela. Angela is thinking about the phrase 'Carmen's children'. If she is also one of Carmen's, then the Abnormalities of this facility... ...Well, they're not really parents of hers anyway. Even human children wouldn't see men and women who wanted nothing to do with them as family. "Perhaps, it would hurt my pride if they were unable to surpass their current challenges even after going to such trouble to imprison me here." Binah admits. "As for whether or not I am Garion still--I suppose that is a philisophical matter." But with that Binah turns back to the Well and lets Lilian be. Angela nods once to the Dame Commander. When Lilian called Binah a piece of shit Angela turned her head and covered her mouth with a fist. Another difficult smile. Angela reminds herself to practice hers later. She doesn't want to show them to anyone until she's got it right, and in the right moment. He'd never turn to look at me in order to take that inch. Just like how he didn't look at Malkuth. It's frustrating to have this in common with her so she says nothing about it. She just nods once more. "Very well, Lilian. Have a peaceful trip back." Angela doesn't linger long down here once Lilian is gone. She hates going to the lower levels herself but... Those words stay with her. Is it strange that she ewants to help both Carmen and her? She couldn't say anything at the time because the idea that the could both get what they wanted just was beyond her imagination. So many people like Carmen. It's not that she doesn't understand it but... No, Angela thinks, if she dwells too long down that line of thinking right now she's bound to end up as mad as Binah's toys down here. Focus on the Seed of Light before you think of startling dreams that seem like delirious fantasy to her. Once it's in reach though, maybe...