Scene #9212: S&M: SS2a - For The World

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Angela	Another twenty four hours passes. It's felt endless, with back and forth skirmishes that barely shift each side's territory, each one bloody and exhausting. Both sides are forced to be on high alert around the clock, because Lilian and Rita can appear at any time, and the other Elites can't let even a moment's opportunity to retaliate slip by. Just a couple days in, running at one hundred and ten percent intensity already feels like it stopped being sustainable a day ago, and everyone is burdened with the knowledge that they're not even halfway through with it. War means war, and the methods that Petra has been employing bring the war to every conceivable front. Whenever she's spared an hour, she spends it committing brutally precise sabotage on the facility itself, to deny every reprieve possible for their enemies. She separates off the wiring for the PA system in the dorms just so that she can hijack the rest of the facility to blare deafening, sleep-depriving klaxons over the speakers, and severs Enkephalin pipes to pour a toxic flow of the psychically corrosive substance down the elevator shaft to the lower floors with Lilian and Rita. Each water source they have access to is ruthlessly executed or poisoned by some means or another. With uncannily precise intuition that she refuses to explain, she directs Rufus and Justin to hassle certain Abnormalities until the negative Enkephalin produced calls a monstrous Ordeal into existence somewhere random around the facility-- with them losing ground, it's more likely to be Lilian's problem than theirs. Arcane monoliths flailing tentacles drop down from the ceiling and threaten to crush anyone caught beneath them, swarms of giant flesheating maggots erupt out of the ground, robots from Green Dawn lurch without warning out of the shadows with rusty saws and swords. She reasons that even if Rita manages to take control of them after the initial surprise, they're not Abnormalities: they're nonrenewable resources, not turning into eggs when defeated, and the initial surprise can be a lot of damage. About a third of the time, this means getting dragged out of whatever you're doing as Petra hastily gives a rundown of some horrible meat clown that's about to careen through the halls, but you get warning. It would seem overboard, if they weren't getting dealt back worse. Everyone here has been killed at the hands of one or both of Rita and Lilian since the start of the war. Beheaded, bisected, bled out, suffocated, burnt, exploded-- the worst times have been when Kukuru herself was incapacitated and hidden away somewhere, thrown into a freezer until being liberated by Xion or Flamel. The blood that paints the tilted floors of the facility is more than any of their bodies would actually naturally contain.
Angela	The Sephirah are desperate and so are those loyal to them. They know they just have to hold off Petra's team for seven days but the facility never planned for Angela's betrayal, somehow, and with Petra sabotaging resources it's only going to get harder to recover even from victories, at least for the Agents. Fox, who has declared his loyalty to the Agents, is treating Shajo's wounds. Controlling Briah means that he is, at the moment, a bigger help to all of you than Petra's team especially since your team has way more Agents and no Kukuru. "You really need to stop throwing yourself into spikes." "Can't exactly claim billions of lives are more important than one then not put mine on the line." Shajo manages, laying on one of the medical beds. "I think you're all maybe too caught up on ideological consistency. People are hypocrites all the time, it's practically healthy." Fox mutters. "Maybe try hitting them more and getting hit less." "I'm trying..." Shajo grumbles. There's other wounded Agents from here and there, mostly thanks to Abnormalities busting out and causing trouble, or through sudden Ordeals, tentacles, flesh eating maggots. HP Ampules are dwindling quickly and that's with Fox focusing those on the bigger injuries. He and the rest of the Welfare team, BECKY, BETSY, and BETTY are doing their level best--and if either Lilian or Rita ask for anything, they'll be sure to get what they want so long as he has it available. "Rgggh... Are Binah and Gebura still fighting...?" Malkuth paces irritably. "If we had her this'd already be over..." Malkuth has been doing the heavy lifting to make sure that the Sephirah don't utterly collapse emotionally. She's been doing this through lots of gung-ho 'We're all in this together' type declarative statements--The Sephirah don't really outrank each other and exclusively have authority in their departments, but with Binah and Gebura missing, and Hokma unwilling to get in Angela's path thanks to the Elites' own words to him, that leaves Chesed--who has his hands full with taking care of Agents as it is--and Tiphereth, who constantly has to keep an eye on Central, as the possible people to take charge besides her. It's certainly not going to be Hod or Netzach and Yesod is engaged in a constant war of facility control with Angela. "The longer we, um, the longer we stall them the better for us... But..." Hod murmurs. "We don't have the supplies to keep the Agents in fighting condition for seven days at this rate." Chesed adds. "We should make the best use of them while we can." Yesod adds. "And the facility is getting real UNSAFE let me tell you." Netzach supplies 'helpfully'. "Thank you, Netzach." Yesod says dryly. "...So what exactly is our plan?" Tiphereth asks. "Sure, maybe Lilian and Rita can beat them all by themselves, but we need a plan. Some of you used to be Elites, comma, of the City so what do you think we should do?" "Alright, alright...! Keeping Kukuru away seemed to work.. We just need to make it last longer--maybe set up traps near where we're keeping her body..." Malkuth adds. And so the discussion is ongoing.
Lilian Rook	'If we had her this'd already be over...' "If we had Nonon and Ceri, it'd have been over yesterday." It's hard to call what Lilian says 'interjecting' or 'exasperating' or any other descriptive verb in particular. She sounds snappish for the same reason everyone is. She sounds exhausted for reasons other than sleep; blessedly, she can't hear those fucking klaxons when she does. "So you may as well blame me. I'm certain that if I gave Petra a stern command to take my side, she would have. And Xion would have folded if I was even the slightest bit sane." Lilian, in the midst of yet another magical working, looks at Rita, and the obvious hangs over both of them without her needing to say it. "It is what it is. We can hope she kills Binah by tomorrow, or the day after at the latest, but we can't bank on it." Petra's constant psychological warfare, Lilian feels, is something she practically asked for. The Agents are used to working 'round the clock in this horrid facility, Rita is used to the conditions of Leviathan-threatened poverty ships, she herself has spent, at longest stretch, three weeks away from an Urban Center in the field. If Petra weren't making life as hard as possible for them, her allies-- largely the upper crust and superpowered suburbanites-- would fold long before them. Or so she reasons. Throwing together shitty distillation mechanisms for any seawater Rita has on hand in a way she'd learned and nearly forgotten in basic, sealing off resting rooms from PA noise attacks with the stationary silencing magic she uses for private conversations in public, druidic magic she started learning when she was four bent towards turning bare concrete to dirt, then dirt to plant life, then to kindling and fresh water; it's strangely novel, to be pressed like this and forced to use every resource at her disposal, but it invigorates her mind only as much as it constantly drains her magic, slowing down how much she can alchemize anything, or provide enough water or temporally accelerated fruits for more than a handful of Agents. The Tree is an unexpected complication, constantly frustrating her efforts to contrive a micro-leyline to ease her effort. And yet, still, the nagging doubt remains that Petra had any need to do this at all; and she is sure it is Petra, the other members lacking the requiste apathetic cruelty. Lilian wonders, in her spare moments of resting from battle, using her dwindling Paladins medical supplies to supplement Welfare's efforts, having her own wounds treated, fabricating ammunition and explosives, and trying to meditate and decompress, if her own attempts at psychological warfare weren't the instigating incident, but only a shitty response to the perceived inevitable; getting caught up in Petra's pace and energy and abject misery before they'd even begun. She wastes very little time on precognition. Her flaw has always been that she can only divine what she personally wants to see, and for the second day in a row, she wants Angela to escape this slightly more than she wants her to lose. Lilian lies and says that the Seed of Light is interfering with it. Compared to the first day, where she'd bent herself wholly to emotionally rattling venom and spite, Lilian has fought the second day in relative silence. Despite the methodical, almost taciturn nature of it, easy to perceive and sulking at best, murderous antipathy at worst, the more canny observation is that her first day of going emotionally claws-out is a stress behaviour, and being quiet isn't as much. Seeing the Elites she'd ravaged return to action the next day is the tipping point for her, where it starts to become business, and then a challenge, and then one she approaches with early signs of vigour.
Lilian Rook	'I think you're all maybe too caught up on ideological consistency. People are hypocrites all the time, it's practically healthy.' "If we'd been a little more consistent, Shajo would be dead, we'd have won, I'd have forced Kukuru to fix him by now, and Petra would be drooling blood, halfway comatose, chained to a radiator in some basement level somewhere until I can stand to look at her again." Lilian spits, bitterly, and then loses all her momentum barely a breath later. "Sorry. I don't know why I keep talking like that. It's not even how I feel at all." she says, truthful in more ways than she's letting on. "I'm afraid she's gotten to me. Maybe well before any of this started." 'Alright, alright...! Keeping Kukuru away seemed to work.. We just need to make it last longer--maybe set up traps near where we're keeping her body...' "Our last ditch effort is going to have to be to trust that their OpSec is entirely as shitty as I think it is, capture and interrogate their personnel for Angela's location, then have me carry Rita there immediately for a surgical deep strike into enemy territory. I've already been pushing myself too much, but I can overextend myself a little more before my capacity starts dwindling badyly." she offers. "Frankly, I'm not actually against eliminating Kukuru, except I want her to bring back some of our casualties later, and I think we can still win before we have to give up on her life." 'We don't have the supplies to keep the Agents in fighting condition for seven days at this rate.' "What do we know about attacking theirs? We can start putting our less combat capable Agents on rationing and save food for our stronger assets, so long as we can guarantee they'll begin starving too." Lilian says. "Just killing them isn't working as quickly as I'd like. Petra's personal gravity is too strong; they've let themselves be hollowed out and become extensions of her disdain. Their capacity for tolerating this sort of suffering has skyrocketed as long as they feel useful to her. I'm going to have to work smarter rather than harder." "Getting into their supplies is a start. It doesn't take much energy to rot them. I can start applying entropy magic to them before killing them so that they're weak and starving when they wake up, too; multiply their resource drain. Once we weaken their willpower a little more, I can try breaking someone's mind and turning them to our side, too. But that might require torture at this rate, and they'll no doubt mount a rescue." Now she circles back around to Malkuth's idea. "If we can keep clinically dead, I can try inscribing a temporal acceleration array around her. Omnidirectional, shielded inscription, larger than the keystone diameter. They won't even be able to approach her without experiencing one thousand times the physical drain. Even Xion should pass out from hypoglycemic shock or something. But that's something we only really have the time to try once."
Rita Ma	Rita was sharp-eyed and fierce two days ago. A day ago, after that gutwrenching early skirmish, she was hollow-eyed but focused. Now... Her mask has been repaired with white coral-like 'webbing'. Subtle dark veins stand out under her skin. Her left eye's pupil is blown all the time. Her right has grown back cerulean with that eerie cross-shape. She rarely bothers to re-weave her human guise now. while Shajo is treated, she sits against the wall on an empty patient's bed, positioned as an outsider to the conversation. Her tentacles are blossomed carelessly all around her, limp as her shoulders and dull as her hair-shaded eyes. She looks at his wounds like a drowning man looks up at the surface. I won't. And that's that. Abnormalities are zero-calorie, you see. By some trick of chirality or un-chemistry the Cycle of Tears is too; not that she hasn't clogged her throat with both just to feel full for half a minute. Every time she's picked off an Elite she's eaten part of their body, venturing a little bit more against Kukuru's limit each time. Sometimes the Ordeals are edible. That's about all. "One hundred thousand calories a day," she'd said during an earlier lull. As much as fifty people. Half an entire human being's worth of raw meat. "But that's only if I'm not regenerating, or healing people. That's inefficient by a factor of two or three. It gets worse the faster I have to heal or digest." But she has been healing people, as much as she's able. Have to stretch the HP bullets out. Finally, Rita chimes in from her silently miserable reverie. Lilian can hear her swallow drool before she speaks. "It's okay, Ms. Rook. I know that... when you're being sharp... it's because you're going through a lot. You're doing the kind thing. That's... what's really important. I'm strong enough to keep that in mind." "I'm afraid she's gotten to me. Maybe well before any of this started." A tentacle reaches across the room to pet Shajo's head, maybe without her conscious intention. Even trembling a little, it's gentle. #-1 INVALID ANSI DEFINITION: #eeeeee "I think... Ms. Rook... a lot of the people around you want you to be happy. But they don't want you to, um... become the person you want to be? They like you better happy than growing." A pause. Tiniest, bleariest laugh: "Like Dr. Foid, for me." Right. Strategy. Her eyes drift to Tiphereth. "I can control Ms. Kukuru, a little. There's, um... she resists it halfway. I can't make her do things she really doesn't want to. But the more I think about it... the way she resists it feels 'weird'. Like it's a magic spell or something, and not just... because her mind's big. If we can take that away, somehow, I think we'd pretty much win. Otherwise, it might-- we might have to think about who I should eat completely. They can't come back from that." "And, um... thank you, Ms. Malkuth. You're doing your best. As much as anybody. I didn't really think you'd be so..." Together. Perfect. More than me. "... but we couldn't do it without you." Her eyes glassily slide back to Lilian. Slow blink. She rummages through the depths of her own head for what she was going to say, painstaking file-searching. "Um. I'm not going to forget how to fight. Or who I'm fighting for. But... I'm going to be getting less sharp, from now on. So it's good that we're talking now. You can tell, right? It's sort of... I'm not..." "... The 'Rita' I'm usually being isn't the lowest tide." Or lowest-energy-state, she might say, if she could grasp for words like that.
Angela	''If we'd been a little more consistent, Shajo would be dead, we'd have won.'' "...Yeah, true. But it's not easy being perfectly utilitarian. Even LobCorp was bad at it and they're awful." "Fox..." Shajo manages, rearing up to complain. "Look, I just wanted to pay off my student loans and then I learned thanks to T-Corp bullshit I've been here for another ten years than I expected to be. And they clearly didn't plan for whatever happened after. You don't gotta apologize to me, Dame Commander, you saved more of us than anyone and that's why so many of us are working for you. It's not just 'cause you got a nice voice. You walked the walk ''and'' talked the talk." "Feathers..." He says. "We're accustomed to being disposable, you know? Even in the Nests--it's just a prettier grind than the Backstreets but it's still a ''grind''. ... Maybe I'm a bit off kilter too." He doublechecks his stitchwork thoughtfully. " ''If we had Nonon and Ceri...'' "Yeah," Shajo says. "Probably why Angela was so willing to let them go out onto other projects. She'd probably have made sure I was gone too if I wasn't Captain." He doesn't seem worried about Rita eating him at all--there are other wounded Agents and plenty of dead clerks around from WhiteNight, though at this point they've been dead for a while, even the ones put away. ''They like you better happy than growing.'' Shajo wonders what his ideal Lilian Rook would be. To be honest, he hadn't really thought about it. She's a hero, a hero that he cares about, but he wouldn't think to deign to have an opinion on the type of person she ought to be or what he'd even prefer. Maybe that puts some inherent distance between him and her, maybe he should have considered that he and Petra had more distance between them than he actually thought. He thinks of the Union Busan and comes to the conclusion of 'Someone I want to show solidarity with' and gets no further than that. Maybe because a tentacle is patting him on the head. Shajo manages a smile. "...Thanks Rita."
Angela	The Sephirah are not warriors, none of them are except for Gebura and Binah, so they don't have a lot of tactical or strategic expertise. They know the facility, and they know the Agents, so they aren't just useless--and some of them have loyal Agents under them, like Chesed so they can be helpful in directing them. ''What do we know about attacking theirs?'' "Well, they've got Kukuru and Xion--but I'm guessing Xion isn't going to teleport off to the supermarket while aware that we might notice that and take advantage--but she might go off to do that if they get pushed to it..." Chesed says. "But attacking their supplies can hurt us too if we aren't careful. We have more to lose with a loss of supplies. And right now they have the best beds." Netzach frowns as best a boxbot can. "...But we can destroy the beds, right?" "Would that be helpful?" Tiphereth asks uncertainly but they don't know how accustomed Elites are to sleeping on the floor. "...Our agents have all slept in the sleep piles before, they could probably handle it." "If you can make ''our'' supplies NOT rot, that would help too." Yesod suggests. "Or any spare bodies--" He is thinking about Rita! "That's not a bad idea... If it's too hard to recover Kukuru they'll expend a lot of effort trying to--and if they even fail, that's that!" Malkuth brightens at the idea of it. But she glances to Rita after who seems surprised that she's, well, that she's in control. "...I'm a little surprised too honestly...! This really sucks! But I guess I'm a bit of a, haha, control freak... I know the other Sephirah are conflicted too--even if they're on board!--so I have to remind them..." But then Rita says something that gives Hod an idea. She says, "Um." And then she mumbles, "If it's a spell... dosing her with an overdose of Enkephalin might, um--it numbs pain, but it also sort of scatters your mind and... it's not exactly just a chemical, it's from The River... It might help you control her. ... I mean, maybe even without your powers. I guess."
Lilian Rook	'It's okay, Ms. Rook. I know that... when you're being sharp... it's because you're going through a lot. That's... what's really important.' "I don't know if I am." Lilian slips into a rasp-sigh again. Recently, she keeps wavering on the edge of her usual primness and her unconsidered, thoughtless tone. "I mean, obviously I'm going through a lot. We all are. I'm not too good to admit that this fucking sucks and I hate being here." she 'helpfully clarifies'. "But is that really the reason?" Lilian takes one look at Rita's blown pupil, lets it trail down to her limp tentacles, and looks away as if she's lingered overlong on a scar that she knows is upsetting for someone to stare at. "The idea was to overrun them, right at the start. And we had that chance, but we let it slip through our fingers." she says, the 'we' not being as true as she'd like, but not particularly mincing words for Rita's benefit. She could have put Shajo out of his misery to keep Rita committed if she'd thought of it; or if she had the guts. "And now what?" "I dug deeper down than I thought I'd have to go, in order to try that hard to hurt them. That cornered, desperate, wild animal of a girl I remember is further away than I thought she'd be. Instead of dredging her to the surface, I went through the motions. Said the things that would hurt the most, did the things my instincts told me not to, and for what?" Lilian stops in the middle of her drawing. The chalk clatters to the floor. She presses her face into her hand, overcome with bone-deep exhaustion. "They flinched. They were scared. It was an advantage. So what? They didn't stand a chance anyways. Why did I try so hard to be a monster in a battle I was already going to win?" 'I think... Ms. Rook... a lot of the people around you want you to be happy. But they don't want you to, um... become the person you want to be? They like you better happy than growing.' "That's true for most of them." Lilian murmurs into her palm, slowly letting it slide sidelong, and smearing the traces of blood still on her skin. She hazily stares with one eye out from between two fingers. "But it's not all of them. And the more I try to believe Petra that it is; everyone but her; the more I feel like I'm just . . ." She pauses. And the pause stretches on. Longer. Uncomfortably long. For once, words fail her. "Sometime in the last couple of years, or maybe just so slowly I didn't notice, something changed. The way that no one acknowledges me is different, and I can't quite grasp the outline of it. I don't feel like I'm one of them, but I'm not holding onto any secrets any longer. I'm upset with them, but I can't think of any particular reason to hate them. It's not as if I'm going unacknowledged, but it doesn't even feel good to hear it. I don't think I can be angry in the same way anymore." Letting her hand fall away again, Lilian leans back, rests her elbow on her knee, and props the back of her head on the wall behind her, staring numbly up into the flourescent lights. "I don't know really know what I'm doing. I wanted to break their will, but I just feel like I've done more damage to myself than them. So if I'm not someone who can hate them to death anymore, who even am I?"
Lilian Rook	'Like Dr. Foid, for me.' The corner of Lilian's lips downturns grimacingly. She forgets to blink. "I see why you'd draw the comparison, but at least he had some idea of what he wanted you to be. I don't even know if they want 'happy' so much as 'normal'. And Petra doesn't even want that at all." She rolls her head halfway to Rita, and without finding her eyes, says, "To tell you the truth, I've been worrying for a while now, that she wants me to stay the same wounded predator that fucked her up, forever." 'You don't gotta apologize to me, Dame Commander, you saved more of us than anyone and that's why so many of us are working for you. It's not just 'cause you got a nice voice. You walked the walk ''and'' talked the talk.' "Sorry." Lilian apologizes by reflex anyways. "Now isn't the time for me to start looking for a therapist. My shitty little life crisis has nothing to do with winning this war." She says it as if she means to slap on a self-deprecating smile, but she just oozes lower into the corner instead, letting her shirt ride up and the soot from the wall dirty her back. 'Probably why Angela was so willing to let them go out onto other projects.' "That does sound just like her." Lilian sighs. "Not that I haven't benefited from their help either way. I can't moan about her allowing me to dig my own grave there; I'd have been far more underhanded than letting a couple of useful pawns live happier lives." 'I can control Ms. Kukuru, a little. There's, um... she resists it halfway. I can't make her do things she really doesn't want to.' "So she really is a fucking monster. I was wondering how she 'forgot to mention' for so long." Lilian says, then makes a single joyless syllable of laughter. 'But the more I think about it... the way she resists it feels 'weird'. Like it's a magic spell or something, and not just... because her mind's big.' "Nanomachines." Lilian interjects, raising one hand. "I remember that part. She's a million dollar designer tech baby. It's either the machines, or some sort of Concord implant. It's a good thing you can tell the difference in 'texture'; I just thought she was too much of an idiot." It's difficult to tell whether that's true or not. "I haven't become so pathetic I couldn't try taking her apart looking for it. I'm not attached." 'You can tell, right? It's sort of... I'm not... The 'Rita' I'm usually being isn't the lowest tide.' "Look at who you're speaking to, Rita." This time, Lilian successfully dry laughs. "God. Who even is 'the Lilian I'm usually being'?" She shakes her head. "Wits and focus running low is just what happens in situations like these. They'll get sloppier first. If it becomes an operational hazard . . ." Lilian doesn't even breathe deep. For a moment of sheer lucidity, like light breaking through the clouds, the ease of saying something surprises her. "Eat Parker. Or Sundew. I actually, really don't care. One is a gutless, unapologetic traitor, and she doesn't deserve to make it out of this. The other is a daddy's girl billionaire of the sort I fantasize about strangling every time I go to a shareholder gala. Petra, Tachibana, Parsons, Xion, Tokiwa, Woz, Justin; anyone but them, and I truly just don't care."
Lilian Rook	Lilian breathes in deep, and the blood-drenched recycled air somehow seems refreshing all of a sudden. She pushes herself back upright, flexing her arms and finally popping her back. "God I'm starting to sound like a commie." Her laugh is a little bit less leaden. 'Well, they've got Kukuru and Xion--but I'm guessing Xion isn't going to teleport off to the supermarket while aware that we might notice that and take advantage--' "We'll notice. If nother else, I'm sick to my stomach of what we've been eating so far, so I wouldn't fail to sense an opportunity like that." 'But attacking their supplies can hurt us too if we aren't careful. We have more to lose with a loss of supplies.' "That's true, but setting aside Kukuru and Parsons, none of them have bodies that can function on an empty stomach. If the Agents minimize their activity, and most of Angela's side starves, the tilt is still massively in our favour." 'If you can make ''our'' supplies NOT rot, that would help too.' "I'm afraid that's my sister's forté." Lilian sighs. "Christ what I'd give to have her here now. I'm afraid the best I could do would be to secure the cell with the orange tree, or at worst, capture Kukuru and butcher her repeatedly for frozen meat." 'That's not a bad idea... If it's too hard to recover Kukuru they'll expend a lot of effort trying to--and if they even fail, that's that!' Lilian smiles weakly at Malkuth's praise. "I'll have to target her myself, which leaves me at an unfavourable matchup, but it's worth a try." 'If it's a spell... dosing her with an overdose of Enkephalin might, um--it numbs pain, but it also sort of scatters your mind and... it's not exactly just a chemical, it's from The River...' "If you can gather enough refined Enkaphalin to dose a captured Elite with, that sounds ideal for breaking in new recruits." says Lilian. "Is that something we can manage?"
Rita Ma	"If we'd been a little more consistent..." "...Yeah, true." "They were split up already when Petra did that. I didn't... give up anything, but a last shot at Ms. Kukuru, to save you, Shajo. So don't feel bad." Rita manages a meager little smile, and drapes her tentacle over his shoulder. That's debatable, really. Reframing it as 'I couldn't have caught them anyway' puts the blame on Rita's strength instead of Rita's choice. She'll take that hit if it can make Shajo feel even a tiny bit better. Why hasn't Rita eaten the fallen clerks and agents? She didn't have any compunctions about stripping Kukuru's arm (and slurping out the marrow, later). Two days at room temperature is probably too decayed for her now, but... "Or any spare bodies--" "Sorry, Mr. Yesod. If I eat a human I didn't mean to kill," Rita murmurs, sounding ashamed of herself, "I might start losing it for good. It... it feels really, really nice. I'm careful about who I get to eat, because... I can reward myself for 'fighting evil', but I can't reward myself for 'being around dead bodies on the floor'." Her hands flex restlessly. "It's like Ms. Rook not killing people. ... I was mostly full when they were still fresh, anyway. It doesn't matter much." And because I run a whole world, my humanity might matter almost as much as the Seed of Light. But she doesn't say that. "So I have to remind them..." Rita smiles with an understanding that only a beloved little sister could have. "Yeah. Keeping everyone going like this... is a really praiseworthy job. Thank you, Ms. Malkuth." Her eyes track over to Lilian again, and she listens while lounging back in her limp way, with a pained sympathetic smile. "I don't feel like I'm one of them, but I'm not holding onto any secrets any longer." "You're done healing, I think. At least mostly. As much as anybody is done," Rita tries to offer. "What happens now is 'growth' instead. You have communities. You're getting married. You're... accomplished, and lots of people like you, and respect you. The things that used to threaten you, um, mostly don't, anymore." "And that feels weird, since you were used to being less whole. And it doesn't feel true, because... being healed doesn't solve all the problems it feels like it should, right?" Rita's tentacles flex in a vague approximation of a shrug, maybe subconsciously.
Rita Ma	"But we're never going to be normal. I know that. I just said Doctor Foid because..." She squirm-flexes again, searching hard for words with her eyes lifting up towards the ceiling. "... she wants me to stay the same wounded predator that fucked her up, forever." "There's a big difference, between someone who loves one version of you, and someone who loves every version, yeah." Little beleaguered smile again. "Eat Parker. Or Sundew. I actually, really don't care." "Mmmm. They'd keep me for a day or two. If I have to, I will. Thanks, Ms. Rook." She's a little personally fond of Sarracenia, who did help out the Busan, but 'rich girl heiress' is hard to argue with. Rita hardly knows Parker at all. "God I'm starting to sound like a commie." For the first time in a long time, Rita perks up genuinely, mustering a tiny giggle and leaning forward from her examining table. "I knew there was hope for you, Ms. Rook. You're getting there. ... Thanks. I didn't, um... I'm really glad you still thought about 'all the other Lilians'." "dosing her with an overdose of Enkephalin might..." "And I got a brain-fogging bite from the Mermaids," Rita adds, nodding at Hod. "Together, and especially if we can mess with her technology... 'revive all our dead Agents' would definitely work."
Angela	''So I wouldn't fail to sense an opportunity like that.'' "Figured." Shajo sighs. "But if they're starving she'll ''have'' to go, even if we're starving too. They're the ones about trying to save everyone so they'd go. Unless Petra stops her." "And Angela... She doesn't need to eat either..." Chesed murmurs. "But unless she grabs an EGO she can't fight--and I doubt she's going to be reaching for something that will gnaw at her mind while attempting to steal the Light for herself. That's--" "--That's an enormous amount of psychic power." Hod murmurs. "I'd be surprised if she could handle it even as a machine, but assuming she could--I doubt even she'd risk a near-certain fatal corrosion just for an edge in a fight." Hod slumps against the wall. "...Lilian, I'm sorry I'm ... not great right now. It's not easy seeing everyone like this... It reminds me of when I betrayed everyone and ... and I'm not doing that again, but it's hard feeling that way." ''So why did I try so hard to be a monster in a battle I was already going to win?'' The Sephirah don't have a good to a statement like that and if there's an Agent that does, they're a bit shy to answer it. Only Fox who is deadened to such things after being a LobCorp medic for nearly two years of memory can think to even answer. "Maybe you were going to rip off the bandaid, make it hurt as hard and fast as possible. Not just in the sense of ending it in one fight, but also... not dancing around the emotional frustrations of it all. Get it all out in one go so the hurt would be fast and not slow or unexpected."
Angela	When Lilian mentions she doesn't really know what she's doing, the Agents are naturally perturbed. WHen someone is on a pedestal it is a little rough sometimes to hear them talk about how they are made of flesh and blood and not stone. ''If I'm not someone who can hate them to death anymore, who even am I?'' "Whaaaat? You're Lilian Fucking Rook! You run an Association, make everyone feel like you're running the Paladins.." Malkuth says, gesticulating with her clipboard. "You aren't just competent, you're talented, and you're not just talented, you still manage to CARE." Malkuth preens a bit at the praise from Rita however muted it is. "Not many people with your kind of wealth even think to help other people," Chesed points out. "You could retire tomorrow and live a perfectly pleasant life all on your own with your beautiful soon-to-be wife forever." "And despite your cynicism--you work all the time to help people. I'm sure you've got complicated thoughts about that, but you're still doing it. You work harder than anyone--frankly I figure too much? I'm sure there's parts about who you are that only you can find." Netzach adds. "I struggle with hating people too. Petra called me out on that for sure..." Shajo grimaces. "But it's better than them living rent free in your head and I hate rent." Rita reassures him that it's not all his fault which is nice. He hopes he's not in a position where he'll always have to wonder by the end of this. Yesod seems to understand Rita's rejection. "Of course, even here and now we must do what we can to stay rational and considered in our actions. I am sorry for bringing up the matter carelessly." ''There's a big difference between someone who loves one version of you, and someone who loves every version.'' Some of the Agents and Sephirah feel called out and wiggle bashfully, too many to really count. Most of it isn't even directed at anyone here but it's not an uncommon situation. "Is Kukuru that strong?" Shajo asks of the matchup. ''If you can gather enough Enkephalin...'' ''And a brain-fogging bite from the Mermaids...'' This is the kind of thing that turns Netzach, Professional Slacker, into Netzach, the kind of guy hanging out behind the school who is going to MAKE SURE you get your stuff. "Well yeah... I've even got some hidden stock hidden around on this floor I'm suuuure even Angela doesn't know about."
Lilian Rook	'You're done healing, I think. At least mostly. As much as anybody is done' "Rita . . ." Lilian sighs. Her eyes sting. She presses her hands to her nose, then rubs at her eyes while speaking at a near-laugh. "That's the single scariest thing you've ever said to me. 'And that feels weird, since you were used to being less whole. And it doesn't feel true, because... being healed doesn't solve all the problems it feels like it should, right?' "Is this something familiar, or something you just figured out?" Lilian asks her, turning to look at her; actually look at her, with genuine interest. She blows out a long exhale, folding her arms across her brought-up knees in thoughtful decompression. "Sort of. I don't know. It feels . . ." She blinks. "I don't know how to feel actually. I expected something to change, other people to change, and I'd sort of . . . be healed by them changing, I suppose. But once they stopped attacking me at every corner, or, at least most of them, perhaps I just healed that much on my own. And they had nothing to do with it. And . . ." Her lips twitch. "I feel like a different person, and like they don't get to claim the credit. But they sort of do. And because they aren't always being horrible to me, I can't bother to be angry. The feeling when they look right past how I've come a long way, on my own, and smile and feel proud, and walk right past the elephant in the room to congratulate themselves; it's not even anger. It's just something unlpeasant." Something comes to her, and in a second moment of energy, she says "It's like the world and I had a catastrophic, blow-up fall-out fight, and we kissed and made better, and I'm over it, but it bothers me a lot that the world clearly isn't ever going to try and talk about it. It's like my relationship with 'everything' ran out of air and stopped. Does that make sense?" 'There's a big difference, between someone who loves one version of you, and someone who loves every version, yeah.' "There's a reason I'm with Tamamo and not Petra." Lilian smiles, if weakly. "I don't want to put words in her mouth. I appreciate what she did for me, even if it was also her fault, and it doesn't make up for it. But it's easy to cling to someone who loves you at your worst when everyone else seems apathetic about your best." she says, then hesitates, then continues despite it. "And I'd gotten the feeling that you could only bring yourself to stand one version of me. Ever since you became Queen, and stopped really being 'girls like us'. Maybe that wasn't the right conclusion." 'Mmmm. They'd keep me for a day or two. If I have to, I will. Thanks, Ms. Rook.' Lilian laughs, then is shocked by her own laugh, then laughs at that even harder. Somehow, despite the grim topic, right now she is the cheeriest person in the room. She laughs until she has to wipe away one of those repurposed tears and complain quietly about wanting a cleaner bra. "Sorry, I just remembered something." says Lilian. "I was thinking about why it felt okay to say that to you, when I don't really want to kill them myself, and it sort of struck me that I've been an idiot." Lilian slides away from the wall, pushing herself with her palms on the floor to recline backwards, stretching out lightly, and giving her an excuse to point her eyes somewhere else to ease the words.
Lilian Rook	"I told you that I don't ever want to get used to killing people, because then I'd probably never stop. I sensed that it'd be a cliff there'd be no climbing back from. And that was probably right at the time. But at some point I got so wrapped up in my mythology that I forgot why." "It wasn't the fear that I'd enjoy it too much, and become addicted to it. There was no point treating it like some sort of heavy taboo. I was afraid that if I abused my power that much, everything would finally feel too fake and grey to care whether or not anyone else lived or died. Back then, I didn't feel like anyone was real but me, so that one thing felt too important to ignore." Lilian pauses suddenly, then smiles apologetically at no one. "Well, I won't say that's not the case anymore. But aren't I at least a little bit stupid for spending all these years practising at pretending things are real, and then being shocked and upset when they start feeling a little realer? Listen to me anthropomorphizing reality into a messy breakup, fretting about closure and arcs." 'I knew there was hope for you, Ms. Rook. You're getting there.' It's a different kind of disinhibited than drunk. The weight lifted by cutting through the brambles of queasy patterns of principle, only held to for its own sake in plodding, routine dread, makes her feel downright bubbly. "Please. With the exception of Eleanor and Sabrina, I could barely give less of a shit about any of them I grew up with. Did you think I found them stimulating company or something? They're so shit at even being rich that I'd press a button that bankrupts all of them on the spot. It's not like I think everyone really deserves the same slice as everyone else, but the greedy pigs certainly don't deserve theirs. Is Noblesse Oblige really a dead phrase?" 'I'm really glad you still thought about 'all the other Lilians'.' "I can't think about them too much or I'll explode." Lilian quips, back to gesturing for tone. "You were really quite deviously cruel with that one, you know. But . . ." She stops to think a moment; animated, fingertip to chin. She pays no mind to the worn down and chipped off nail polish anymore. "If the Light were only for them, I could live with that. Not every place is a Busan. Not every person can be Bota. I just don't want to sacrifice the ones that are there to spite the grey masses. I was probably always carrying the people I hated on my back just in case it accidentally helped someone who needed it." "Come to think of it, that's what I did for Exis. No wonder we're the same person." That nearly incomprehensible statement feels like a vertiginous underscore of the fact that Lilian sounds much more like her right now.
Lilian Rook	'...Lilian, I'm sorry I'm ... not great right now. It's not easy seeing everyone like this... It reminds me of when I betrayed everyone and ...' "Don't apologize." Lilian says, and waves with her offhand. "You've had your mea culpa. The others chose to side against you; they deserve to get hurt for what they want. Either way, nobody is going to hate you. You're being steadfastly loyal for the first time." 'Not just in the sense of ending it in one fight, but also... not dancing around the emotional frustrations of it all. Get it all out in one go so the hurt would be fast and not slow or unexpected.' Lilian responds quietly with, at first, only a thoughtful 'mmmm'. It dampens her mood somewhat to reconsider. "That might be it. But it feels . . . stale, now. Chewed to nothing. Truth be told, even at my nastiest, I don't think I was ever that nasty. Or, perhaps I was, but not in that way. It feels foreign, put-on, to attack them like I did, as if they're still placing an unbearable weight on me, and this is my fighting back against them." She barely blinks a glance at Fox, but she does make eye contact. "Perhaps it'd be best to get why I'm really frustrated off my chest instead." 'Whaaaat? You're Lilian Fucking Rook! You run an Association, make everyone feel like you're running the Paladins..' 'You aren't just competent, you're talented, and you're not just talented, you still manage to CARE.' 'Not many people with your kind of wealth even think to help other people,' 'You could retire tomorrow and live a perfectly pleasant life all on your own with your beautiful soon-to-be wife forever.' "Jesus Christ. Calm down or I'm going to blush like a schoolgirl. Though, I suppose I was one a year ago." Lilian quietly laughs to herself, then sighs, loosening her shoulders. "It's complicated. When I'm being kind, it feels sort of good, but also sort of fake. Even though I care about them, I feel a little guilty for making them befriend a freak. Even though I'm helping them, it sort of feels like I'm trying to earn their approval. Perhaps some of that is just . . . residual, from when every kind word and lent hand really was fake; to manipulate people for my own survival. But some of it has to be something else." 'I'm sure you've got complicated thoughts about that, but you're still doing it.' 'I'm sure there's parts about who you are that only you can find.' "Mmmh. It's like it's too easy, I suppose? Once I got room to breathe, it's like the fact that I'm dangerous was swept under the rug completely. It's so difficult to feel loved by anyone who wasn't frightened of me first. So I keep rekindling that old anger, hoping it'll feel just as liberating as the first time, and it seldom ever does." Lilian rounds out her train of thought with a little 'pfuh'. "The fuck am I saying? Aren't I just saying 'I hate insincere suck-ups'? Why am I getting bent out of shape about making a good impression on strangers?"
Lilian Rook	' struggle with hating people too. Petra called me out on that for sure...' "I think I can only really hate people who have some kind of power over me." Lilian blurts it out so easily. The sound of it in her own ears briefly looks like she's been dazed. "That's right. Because I felt like they were trampling over me while I was holding back the power to do it to them. Because they were arrogant. And insatiable. And they wouldn't let me have a single thing I'd earned. And . . . because I was consenting to it every single day, and I loathed myself just as much for taking part in it." "I suppose I never had the opportunity to learn how deep my battery for being cruel to people I merely look down on is." Lilian makes a sarcastic half-giggle noise at herself. She'd rolled her eyes and sheepishly withdrawn at the prospect of using this tactical downtime for therapy, but all of a sudden, this looks like the best shape she's been in since this all started. 'Of course, even here and now we must do what we can to stay rational and considered in our actions. I am sorry for bringing up the matter carelessly.' "No, you're right. I've been taking them far too seriously. Agonizing over old lines and trying to capture faded feelings won't help us at all." says Lilian. She stands up, briefly abandoning her work, and claps herself down as if it could make her feel any less sticky, then stretches her arms out over her head. 'Is Kukuru that strong?' "No she's a fucking moron." Lilian says. "Power with no sense or discipline. She's my least favourite type to fight, but only because I don't have any means to cut through regeneration like Rita does. I can manage." She snaps her fingers in Netzach's direction. "Do it. And if you have anything to say to Parker, do it now. With any luck we'll be able to leave the rest of them stiff in a meat locker until this is all over."
Rita Ma	"Is this something familiar, or something you just figured out?" "Something I'm figuring out for myself, in the last few months." Rita smiles awkwardly while hunched forward, cheeks in her hands, and kicks her legs. "I fought a long time to be 'normal', you know? And now I think... I'm as normal as I'll ever get. This is the surface." Tiny laugh, exhausted but sincere. Her hands fall so her thumbs can twiddle. "If it helps... I don't think there's a limit to how far you can keep going up, anyway." Tentatively, trying to pick up what Lilian's putting down: "So... no, I think I get it. You keep wanting to reopen it because-- because there's no closure. It feels okay but it doesn't feel satisfying. If you can start it again, maybe the way it ends will be 'right' this time. You have to get people to see you again, to feel about you again, so... so." She tapers off, looking just as sheepish. "Ever since you became Queen, and stopped really being 'girls like us'." "That's when it happened?" she asks, tenderly melancholy. "I wondered. You said I was just like you, a long time ago. Petra never thought so, though. And you stopped too somewhere along the way." "... I guess..." Thoughtful. Off to the side. "... You were really good at pulling me up to 'normal'. So I got ahead. But then I wasn't as good at pulling you up, too. I'm sorry." Then she warms up, and up, and up, along with Lilian's vitality, until she can beamingly soothe Lilian's sheepishness too. Rita pulls off her respirator and tosses it aside to show her face. Its filter-cartridge is the brown of old blood anyway. Her tentacles lift her up, and carry her to Lilian's side, and then she takes Lilian's hand in hers and squeezes. "Hey," says the deeply unwell girl, with still a glimmer of light in her eyes. "It's worth it to get your head clear. You said that to me, didn't you, Ms. Rook? I'll be depending on you, as I... um, keep falling apart, so... I'm really glad." "Is Kukuru that strong?" "I don't have any means to cut through regeneration like Rita does." A thought sparks in Rita's head. One of her tentacles arches upwards, bubbles, and deforms. Something scary-blue percolates through it. Then it twists and weaves around itself, calcifying like a string of pearls into- A half-dozen fist-sized, pearl-like 'eggs', each slightly glowing from within with a truly evil-looking fluid. "There, Ms. Rook. Throw those, or coat your sword with them. They won't stop her healing or keep anyone dead, but they'll slow it down a lot, okay?" A little bit more of that light is gone from her eyes: another few pounds of shed biomass. But worth it, she thinks. Yesod pulls her attention back over, still beaming: "No, it's okay. You didn't hurt my feelings. I... I really, really want to. So it's okay." And then, touching Shajo's arm comfortingly, her tentacles blossom out like opened arms across the room. "Hey," she says, to all the Sephirah. "I'm... by the end of this... not going to be able to think about words much, maybe. Or feelings. Or nice things. Not forever, but until I can eat a whale, anyway." Little laugh. "And by then, you'll be gone, so... thank you all for trying to take care of the agents. Can I give you all a hug, while I still can, please?" Her tentacles are softer than arms, and almost as warm. Shajo and Lilian are, of course, included.
Angela	Hod doesn't feel loyal. She feels like she's betraying someone either way. She hates it. She understands Angela's position just enough to feel off about opposing it and, besides which, thanks to Lilian, Petra, and Hibiki's friendships with her she feels guilty for doing something that will kill her when she knows it'll hurt them. She knows it's for the greater good and, more to the point, she can't betray her fellow Sephirah again. She just can't bring herself to do that. But she let herself believe in a future and hurt others by letting herself believe in it. She'd feel guilty either way. But she is, at least, grateful that Lilian seems to understand she's having Complex Thoughts about it. If Lilian demanded absolute commitment, or told her off about not being totally okay with even the loyal path right now, she thinks she'd cry and she doesn't have tear ducts right now. "I...hope so. I hope it all goes okay. Or okay enough." She supposes in the best case scenario, it won't be her problem. But she doesn't really want it to be Lilian's problem either. But it probably will, she realizes. It feels like all problems make their way to Lilian eventually. Fox is starting to realize that Lilian's burdens are maybe a teensy bit big for even a world-weary healer like himself. He fidgets with his own EGO, the small revolver Solitude. A strange weapon for a guy like him but not all EGO is assigned to someone whose life story is sympathetically coincidental. Sometimes that's bad, and sometimes that's good, for the person with the EGO. It's always a little hard to see how the psychic monster stitched onto the wielder's brain is influencing them. But he does (as does Shajo and many of the others) feel considerably better that Rita and Lilian are talking like this, rather than continuing their fight. Maybe it's a conversation that could only happen because of that fight, Fox reasons. Maybe some day, the people who had ''this'' fight will make peace with one another once more... Unfortunately, with actual lives on the line, it becomes that much more difficult. ''I got so wrapped up in my mythology that I forgot why.'' "Gebura says stuff like that sometimes. Takes active effort to not get so attached to 'Red Mist' because as many doors as it opens, it can get as corrosive as anything else trying to eat away at your identity." Shajo murmurs. He cracks a smile at the idea of a messy breakup with reality. It's an incredible line, something he'd never say for himself, but he can feel the poetry in the words and it's always a little charming to him when someone uses poetry to make life a little more easy to explain, especially when it's a weird life.
Angela	''They're so shit at even being rich...'' Chesed quietly nods. He's met plenty of people like that and he threw himself into this insane situation because it felt more real than any fancy dinner party. But some part of him wonders, was that actually fucking stupid? Well, he doesn't expect to be as competent at being rich as Lilian either. Even at his best, he just doesn't see himself as a psychic time stopping blade master with an unstoppable alter ego and he doesn't see himself as The City equivalent of that either. "I'd like to think Noblesse Oblige still has value. But I can't deny that it is ... difficult to enforce. Even the fairest democracies can be corrupted to the point that they are more harmful to its citizenry than any king. The issue is a matter of power and five hundred kings isn't better than one simply because there's more of them. People are inclined to be lazy, and eternal vigilance is arguably the unfortunate price of any just society--one that you pay, even for other societies as far as I can tell. The good news is... Once you get that freedom, it's harder to pretend that it was never real even if it's taken away. The people of the City have forgotten that it was real. I suppose that is why we were so desperate." Chesed pontificates on his own for a bit. ''Perhaps it'd be best to get why I'm really frustrated off my chest instead.'' "I can't imagine it'd hurt. The worst case would be an indecisive response, but if they simply don't care then you can say 'ah to hell with 'em' and if they do..." He shrugs. Hard to imagine the best case. If that even is the best case. Sometimes, he knows well, you just want to tell people 'to hell with 'em' and their understanding is actually in the way. ''It sort of feels like I'm trying to earn their approval.'' Hod feels an instant upswell of solidarity with Lilian which makes her feel a bit better. "It can be tough to know whether you're doing something because you just want to be decent or because you need to be cared about and it's actually all just for you. Maybe it's always a bit of both at first but what it becomes depends on how you face the challenges."
Angela	Shajo was tougher than a lot of people, but also weaker than a lot of people. He was a member of the Middle, sure, but in the grand scheme of the powers of The City--he was, in fact, decidedly in 'the middle'. But he knows what it's like to be in a society that's trampling over you and loathing yourself because you are ocnsenting to it. "THen I met a crazy pirate." He murmurs, fondly. nNobody here has anything to say to Parker. Parker was a madwoman for most of her time here and after she was stuck in Extraction with Petra. Netzach is fundamentally incapable of hating a goober but he is truly excited to get people fucked up. His nihilism (negative) has faded but not his nihilism (positive). "Aye aye captain." Netzach says. "She is a Commander," Yesod scolds humorlessly. "Dude c'mon..." Some of the conversation between Lilian and Rita feels so personal that even Shajo won't jump in. 'Girls like us', Shajo thinks, didn't Angela say something like that? Does healing mean you are no longer one of 'us'? He's not sure he gets it, but he runs it through his head a little because he's on a medical slab and has nothing better to do but try to bleed less. But one thing for sure, Shajo feels a vault of relief now that it seems Rita and Lilian have 'made up', are 'getting along'. Then Shajo thinks about who he heard the panicked retelling of their fight from and he lets out a soft little sigh. When Cinder joined LobCorp he didn't think she'd last a week. Apparently, she usually didn't. But it's hard to hate a dead woman when she saved your life and the life of half the people youi ever cared about. It's also a little easier, but he can't vent that when the people with more reason to haven't. ''Rita provides... THE GOOP'' Ah, that's a relief, Shajo thinks. Things are back to normal. ''Until I can eat a whale.'' "We've got whales for days here." Shajko quips, leaning as he can against the tentacle. It's... a comfort. Without Nonon here, he's finding he needs RIta more than he can say. The Sephirah are startled, but only Yesod is at all awkward about it due to his aversion to touch, but he pushes that down a bit since he feels he already stepped in it a bit with Rita. Gebura isn't here to be the Understander, so it falls to Chesed to be the Understander in her place. "Of course, Rita. The least we can do is offer a spot of comfort. And I think I speak for all of us when I say we're glad it won't be forever. The last thing any of us want to do is make you take our place in purgatory--metaphorical or otherwise. Come on, everyone! Hug circle, Welfare's still my department so it's an order, hoo hoo...!" It's enough to make one wish for life.