Futuristic 〄 Help me find my way––!! | (syntranator & starboobie)

[starboob]

♕ PRINCESS VERITY (EXILED) ♕​

Who is lady Jezebel talking to? Though she is addressing Verity, her words are ones the princess thinks she should tell herself in a mirror. The truth is plain for anyone to see; the way she sparks and steams at her cybernetic base, the cuts and gashes that leak blood all over her clothes. Even her attacks are becoming more desperate––as if hoping for Verity to slip without actually looking for her slips. There is no coming back from this. Verity will not allow it. Even while her body aches. Even while her head pounds and pounds. Even while her she begins to feel light and faint. Where she knows these are all warning signs that her own fall is imminent, the wrath pumping through her veins in place of blood keeps her upright. Keeps her strong and alert. She does not let herself falter. Not even for a moment, she keeps the same composure she had when this fight had started. 'This ends now,' is her holy mantra that repeats to herself, sending the prayer to Victory. (The sage sends a path for her and, dutifully, she follows.)

She dodges more whips of barbed wire, the shadows knock away the cables meant to trip her, her sword connects with lady Jezebel's chest––though the villain backs away enough that it only cuts across her and does not split her the way the princess had intended. (In some ways, it is impressive that she can talk and talk, without seeming to have the need to breath, without even sounding belabored despite her obvious exertion.) Verity does listen to her, she is not so in the zone that she cannot hear her opponent and when the lady gives a moment of much needed reprieve? She takes a few strides backwards from her opponent, before her eyes shift across the room and lock onto the empty vessel that used to be her pirate. Her eyes widen. She shrieks, the noise choked, "Iskra!"

But her scream does not seem to reach the pirate. She's gone. Suppressed somewhere in her own body. (Verity never realized how small the captain is until this moment where she has been reduced to a husk. She can feel her heart drop through the floor.) When her eyes snap back over to lady Jezebel, they do not appear as those sea green depths; they are dark as storms and their winds howl the grave error that Jezebel has made. Yes, yes, she hears what the mad woman has said and how she plans to claim a new body for herself, but Verity hears the shadows, too. They fuel the storm in her veins and inspire earthquakes with her footfalls. The princess is set now on the path of destruction.

Her strikes once more come down in a berserker fashion––perhaps having learned a thing or two from her duel with Ylna––and she gives no room for the lady to counter. She can only defend her pathetic body. While Verity can hear her laughing, even goading the princess to hide the Fear that starts to fill her eyes, they are about as effective as asking a mountain to move. When the moment presents itself, the shadows gather around her blade, fortifying it to make it twice as strong; they gather into her body and grant her all their strength. She swings her blade where cybernetics meets flesh and splits the woman in two––blood and sparks alike fly from the wound. The pieces of her fall to the ground, one with a clattering and one with a thud.

Of course, it's not over. Not just yet. Lady Jezebel, just as promised, is still grasping at Life and Verity can see her blue spirit beginning to separate from her body as she dies. A chain also emerges from Jezebel's chest and it connects to Iskra, pulling them together. However, long before the two can become one, Verity severs the link and shoves that blue ghost back into her soon to be corpse. Unnoticed to Verity, the shadows all shout a celebration and flee from her form back to wherever they truly reside––Iskra's body even slumps back down to the floor and somehow the princess doesn't notice her pirate. Oh no, her focus is still on the villainous woman who looks at her, even in her dying minutes, with utter contempt and defiance. But there are no more tricks for her to pull. It's Verity's turn, now, to decide what happens next. Certainly, Verity could just wait for lady Jezebel to bleed out or short circuit, but, oh, that would be too kind and gone is the kindhearted princess. Instead, allowing this rare rage fueled cruelty take over her, she retracts most of her spikes, only leaving the ones that protrude from her knuckles. Then she slams her fist into Jezebel's jaw, her head snapping to the side with a satisfying crack. Claw like marks tear through her cheek. Then she hits her again. And again. And again, until she is certain the woman is dead for good.

After that, she races, or rather stumbles over to her captain, collapsing once she's arrived to her body and gathers Iskra into her arm. "Iskra, Iskra," she chokes, her voice weak as she clutches her pirate––not realizing how much of a mess she is making with injuries that spill over Iskra's clothes. In that moment her eyes are starting to get heavy and all her exhaustion slams into her all at once. She fights through it though, forcing herself to stay awake, because she needs to know this first, "T-tell me you're alright."

 

[Syntra]

….have you ever seen the bottom of the ocean? There are stars in there, too. The true stars, actually. Don’t you know that that which you can see in the sky is just a reflection of the real thing? The most radiant of lights are always born in the darkest of depths, after all, and there isn’t a darkness deeper than that, I can guarantee.

What? What was the voice saying? Those were words, certainly, but disconnected from any context-- floating in the air, much like leaves carried by the wind or a kite flown by red-faced children or… or Iskra herself, mere moments ago. (How did she know? That, too, was a mystery. The pirate hadn’t exactly seen that, mind you, but she just knew, in the same way that birds of passage knew their routes even before they hatched from their eggs. Inhabiting one’s body was a more active process than most people would assume, you see? All the synapses firing, sending millions of signals across the neural network, and the muscles responding, oh so subtly. Still, when they didn’t respond, the absence of reaction was downright deafening, and… and that was how she knew, most likely.)

Don’t lie to her. Can’t you see how confused she is?

Confusion is the mother of wisdom, sister. Each journey starts with it-- each path to understanding, that is. How do you think that people start to wonder? Fickle creatures as they are, they need a strong impulse in order to put their minds to work.

Yes, the other voice replied, and for some reason, Iskra could visualize its source rolling her eyes, but you’re just lying. That is no impulse of any sort, aside maybe from one that will inspire her not to believe you. Are you that happy to cut away the branch that you are standing on?

Pfft, you’re no fun.

‘Who are you?’ the pirate asked, finally finding her words. (Everything felt slow, slow, slow, as if someone was holding the pause button. Her limbs, too, were exceedingly heavy-- they may as well have been made of steel, really, for all the effort it took her to move them. Also, why was she surrounded by so much fog? Where had it come from? …the substance was white, white like freshly fallen snow, but also thick, and it seemed to be everywhere at once.)

We are you, captain.

‘That makes no sense,’ Iskra frowned. ‘I am me. I am not aware of beings other than myself who would be… well, me.’

Metaphorically, of course. We share the same fate now.

‘What kind of fate? What is it that you are talking about?’

We fell for the same trick, pirate. All the souls bound by lady Jezebel dwell here, as far as we are aware. …ah. Ah, alright. Iskra remembered now, at least a little bit-- there was a large, gaping hole in her memory to be sure, but she could at least recollect entering that snake’s mansion. Had she outsmarted her, then? And what about Verity?!

Your princess is quite fine, no need to worry. In fact, you shall be fine, too. Unlike us, you are not destined to perish in this web.

‘…what? I’m afraid I don’t understand.’

That is fine, too. I mean, I did not expect anything else.

Don’t be so rude, Eshliyae. We contacted her so that she’d help, remember?

Pfft! Whether she even can do that, that is the real question here.

‘If you explain what you want from me,’ Iskra said, a hint of annoyance creeping into her tone, ‘then I might. But, by all means, feel free to just talk all over me.’

No, no, you are right. I suppose that we should start with our introductions, shouldn’t we? We are the turtles that you’ve been searching for.

‘Does that mean that…?’

That we are dead? Of course, duh. But listen, pirate, you may still help us-- not us specifically, but our children, at least. The trap Jezebel has set up will continue to hurt us if it is not deactivated. Here is what you must do…

…there was a flash of light, so bright it felt downright searing, and once Iskra’s eyes adjusted to the new environment? She found herself in her princess’s arms, wrapped there so securely that it almost made her cry. (Ah, yes, her Verity. Who else would it be? The woman had seen the lowest of her lows as well as the highest of her highs, and still, still she always returned to her, much like a planet always circled around its orbit. At this point, her not being there would have been an aberration-- a glitch in the very fabric of reality.) “I… I don’t know,” the pirate admitted. “I mean, I don’t have the access to any medical equipment here. Still, I think I may be fine? I don’t feel hurt, at the very least.” Well, no, not hurt, but ‘tired’ certainly was a good descriptor here. Ah, even keeping her eyes open felt like a gargantuan task! Nonetheless, sleeping wasn’t an option-- not when they still had so much to take care of.

“Verity,” Iskra’s eyes widened, and instinctively, she gripped the princess’s hand. “The turtles. The villain really has been killing them! She continues to kill them, too. I have spoken to… their ghosts, I suppose? Something like that, anyway. They told me many things, indeed. Apparently, she is… using their ancestors’ corpses to lure their offspring into a trap? Their shells, at least-- the ones that she has already extracted knowledge from. Other turtles can sense them and rush to their rescue, which is then swiftly used against them. Disgusting!” the pirate shook her head, as if she herself couldn’t believe what she was saying. “What… what happened to lady Jezebel, anyway? And what happened to me? To you? You’re hurt, Verity,” Iskra announced, somewhat uselessly. (Just, ugh! The princess must have been aware of that, so why draw attention to the injury? Truly, there couldn’t have been a stupider thing to say!)

 

[starboob]

♕ PRINCESS VERITY (EXILED) ♕​

​

"I... I don't know."​

And to be perfectly honest? That answer is as good as any other to the princess. Just hearing her voice and knowing that she right here with her again makes her want to weep. Quite honestly? Tears are stinging at her eyes and soon they are rolling down her cheeks in fat steady blobs, collecting at the tip of her chin. Her arms wrap tighter around her pirate as if she is scared that holding her any looser will ultimately result in Iskra being torn away from her. The villain may be gone, but Verity's Fears all crash into her at once. Earlier, it had been present and numbed, for she could not afford to get so lost in her despair; and now, free of those restraints she can release all her earlier worries. "I told you that you are not allowed to scare me like that, Iskra," she sobs, lip trembling, though she is not angry. How can she be? She knows it was not Iskra's fault and if her pirate had had any power, she would have twisted herself free and been right back beside the princess. "Iskra I-I thought––"

Though her words are cut off by the pirate's urgency, which also puts a stop to her crying, rapt in what the captain has to say. As the pirate talks, she rises from her position on the floor and helps the pirate up as well. Absently, her thumbs smooth over Iskra's knuckles, nodding along to this new information. "Yes, yes, she had spoken of the turtles so I knew she was our culprit, but I did not think they would still be in danger," while she sounds angry, it's hollow anger. Not because she does not care, she absolutely does, but her body is tired and aching and even her earlier sobbing took so much out of her. Stubbornly, still, she does not see a reason to stop just for the sake of her own needs. The chroniclers are more important than her body's need for rest. "Just how can one woman be so dastardly?" And to think, there are more women out there like her. Some worse, some better and all absolutely vile stains on existence. Verity wonders how many they can get to cower in their lifetime.

When Iskra asks of the villain and remarks on the obvious, she lets out a weak airy laugh, "It would seem that I am." She touches her cheek, where the largest of her wounds resides, and sees her fingertips coated in fresh blood. A wound that deep won't clot on its own. She feels around her neck, which seems in better shape, but certainly needs attention of its own. "And she is dead," her voice is matter of fact, detached. She takes Iskra across the room, but she doesn't point out the obvious fallen opponent, her face shredded beyond point of recognition. (Had that really been her?) Ignoring the carnage altogether, she grabs Telos from the coffee table and straps the sword across her back. Then secures Gwenwyn back on her hip. After a few minutes, she decides to explain, "I killed her." There is no shame or pride in her voice. Honestly, she doesn't know how she feels about it. It happened rather quickly and the memories of those final moments feel like someone else's.

"I am not quite sure what she did to you, but she tried to drain your Life into myself first and when I rejected that, she planned to take your body as a new vessel. She wanted your Shade," Verity starts, as she takes her captain's hand and leads that back towards their home, Inure. As they walk, she tells Iskra everything that happens, sparing no detail. From the servant girl to that strange parallel universe, lost in Time, to her own rage. While they walk through the halls, the servants' collars all seem to have broken and Verity tells them to take whatever treasure they can, commandeer the many ships that lady Jezebel has, and flee. For in an hour, she will have Inure blow up the asteroids that used to be lady Jezebel's twisted country. Some of these former servants ask to join Iskra's crew and Verity defers that answer to the captain.

When they arrive back on the ship, Verity is rushed towards the infirmary to have her numerous injuries assessed. Glass is picked out of her hair and some of the cuts; the cuts are cleaned and a wand-like device is waved over the smaller injuries, closing them almost immediately. The larger gash requires extra care, and it, too, is closed enough that the scar should be smaller––so she is told. She hides her disappointment well enough, because she'd prefer there to be no scar at all. When all is finished, though she is advised to rest, she ignores the advice and searches for Iskra once she has changed her clothes and freshened up some.

She comes to the command deck with two hearty bowls of soup and offers a bowl to Iskra while immediately launching into business, "Do you know the location of these traps lady Jezebel has set? I do not want to waste another minute with these chroniclers at risk. It is already a travesty what has happened to the elders." She takes a seat next to Iskra, resting her head on the pirate's shoulder. "Oh, I borrowed one of your shirts. I hope you do not mind––it was fresh out of the drier and you know how cold I get." It's not a lie, but she is leaving out the part where she just wants to be enveloped in the pirate after everything that happened earlier.

 

[Syntra]

Wounded the princess may have been, yes, but her fire? Oh, something as trivial as that couldn't put it out, it seemed. (To think that she had faced lady Jezebel on her own... it made her skin crawl, in truth, but she knew better than to disparage her. It wasn't like Verity had had a choice in the matter, you see? And even if she had had it, then her choosing to fight, to answer violence with violence, would still have been an entirely valid decision. ...sometimes, you see, sheltering one from harm wasn't really the kind thing to do. It protected the body, yes, but weren't people more than bodies? More than the shells they were imprisoned in, essentially? If one's soul was burning with bloodlust, after all, then denying it its sweet release could only ever result in the flames eating them up from inside! No, Iskra didn't want that fate for Verity. Didn't, didn't, didn't, and besides... well, the princess had proven that she was capable, hadn't she? Thousand times over, at this point.) "Good job," the pirate muttered, and caressed her hair. "From what was revealed to me, only death could have salvaged her rotten, rotten soul. Death purifies, you know? It is a restart, essentially-- a chance to free yourself of the shackles of your sins, once and for all. Perhaps, one day, she shall be born again, and live an honest life this time." And, if not? Well, Iskra would be happy to kill her, again and again and again, regardless of how many times it took.

"Hey, hey, Iskra, you okay?" Ylna asked, her tone full of her signature tact, once they returned aboard Inure. "You look like shit. I mean, not like literal shit, and you don't even look that fucking bad, but there's this... off-ish vibe to you? I dunno. If I had to guess, then I'd say you were suffering from diarrhea?"

"Wow," Eran chuckled, "a nice hypothesis, Ylna. Ten out of ten, really. Buuuut you're wrong, isn't she? I'm betting you're just worried, Iskra."

"It's captain," Iskra sighed, exasperated. Just, what did one have to do in order to earn a smidgen of respect around here? Slaughter a dragon? Something like that, most likely-- probably because dragons didn't actually exist. "Do I have to remind you, Ylna, that my body actually isn't susceptible to illnesses? So, no, I don't have diarrhea. I am not worried, either. I'm just... thinking about Verity, really, and wondering how her treatment is going."

"That's... that's the literal definition of worry..."

"Nonsense," Iskra lifted her chin. This couldn't be possible, could it? The princess had awakened so many suspicious emotions in her already that, surely, they must have hit some kind of limit-- one woman simply couldn't open her eyes to all the emotions there were, after all. Monopolies were illegal in this corner of galaxy, the captain was sure, and Verity... Verity had joined a pirates' crew. Ah, damn. "Fine, fine," Iskra resigned, "maybe I am a little worried. Is that so strange, though? It is natural to worry about one's friends, I've been told."

"Right, friends," Eran smirked. "I can see that."

"What do you mean by that, Eran? Explain yourself."

"What do you mean, captain?" the woman smiled, her words dripping with fake innocence. "I am just making an observation that you seem to be very good, hmm, friends. Speaking of which, should I start organizing another wedding? It only seems fair, considering how hard you two tried for my sake."

Iskra opened her mouth, but all words had left her-- probably because her mind couldn't help but try to wrap itself around the concept of wedding, and all those delicious, delicious implications. Could it be...? A-ah, there was no reason for her cheeks to get red like that, though! Eran spoke before she thought, far too often to base any serious hypotheses on her words, anyway, and-- Verity. There she is. To her immense relief, the princess looked more or less fine, even if Iskra would have preferred for her to return at some other time. You know, maybe when her face didn't resemble beetroot? Yes, that would have been nice. "Worry not, Verity. We are heading there already, and, um. Alright, I suppose? F-feel free to keep it." And Iskra was saying that solely because she hated the idea of her friend getting cold, not because she imagined her wrapped in herself or anything. Ha. Hahaha. ...by the Shade, she was dead. If not physically, then her brain had certainly died long ago, along with the reminders of her dignity!

Fortunately, before she could embarrass herself further, a strange song reached their ears. It sounded happy and sad all at once, the tones rippling through the space like waves on an otherwise calm pond, and... ah. Ah, there they were. A small turtle colony, orbiting around an empty shell like moons around its planet! ...except that moons generally weren't being led to their doom. (The turtles moved as one entity would, in perfect harmony. In fact, the harmony may have been a little too perfect, you know? Because cooperation this flawless could only suggest the absence of the spirit, truly. Had they fallen into some kind of trance, perhaps?) "Verity," she turned to the princess, all urgent. "It's the song, I believe. It is luring them somewhere. We must find a way to disturb it!"

 

[starboob]

♕ PRINCESS VERITY (EXILED) ♕​

When she had entered the command deck, Verity had not noticed that Iskra had been in the middle of a conversation with Ylna and Eran. So focused she had been on claiming the spot beside her pirate that she breezed right past them. When she realizes there is other company in the room, she tosses a nod in Ylna's direction and a smile over to Eran, who returns the gesture and adds a wink before the women exit. Now it's her turn for her face to go red as beetroot, because not only is that bet still looming in the air but she does realize that, yes, she needs to make a move at some point. She does need to figure out just where she stands in Iskra's heart––even if she has a fairly good idea, she will never be able to truly live in comfort until the captain confirms it herself. (With her lips maybe, or her tongue if Verity were so lucky––oh, she'd let her spell it out with one hand up her shirt and the other down her... Alright, that is so not why she had come to see Iskra!) She clears her suddenly dry throat and looks over at the pirate, hiding herself behind her bowl of soup. "I shall be sure to take good care of this shirt then," she mutters between large gulps of lentils. (Seriously, it really is none of the crew's business what transpires between herself and Iskra so she does not understand why they are so insistent on being nosy. There are much more entertaining things to do––like seeing if Kona can benchpress Serrin or seeing how long it might take to convince Saavika to blow something up. A potential budding... relationship, if that is where their trajectory is truly headed, should not be the hottest piece of gossip! Especially not on pirate's ship. There has to be something better. If there isn't, Verity has half a mind to start spinning juicy rumors just to give herself and Iskra a break from the spotlight.)

Tearing her hungry gaze away from Iskra's lips, she looks ahead towards the spectacle now that they have arrived at their destination. Her brow furrows together as she watches the turtles spin around the empty hulls of their ancestors. It's eerie, if she is to be quite honest. She's never seen animals behave this way before. Then, remembering who is responsible for this, or who had been responsible for this devious trap, her fists clench over her knees. All over again, her blood feels hot and her vision becomes splotched in red. (She has to remind herself that that villain will not be a threat to this species any longer. Still it takes a few minutes for her to calm again as the memories resurface, too.)

She shakes her head, pulling herself out of her momentary trance as she looks over to the captain. "The song?" her tone is curious, as she had not noticed it at first––too focused on that vile, vile woman in her head and that ugly smile that's been seared into her brain. She listens closer, the melody reaching her ears and she nods, agreeing. She cannot imagine that it would be something else luring them––after all, song seems to be a popular way of communication amongst creatures. "Hmm," she taps her chin thinking on how to disturb the song. "We might be able to send another sound frequency to break the trance. Something louder, perhaps?"

True to character, Verity does not wait to see what Iskra thinks of the idea and decides to take action instead. Not because she does not respect the pirate's opinion, but because she figures this will be a rather harmless intervention. She turns some nobs on Inure's control panel so that her speakers are facing outwards and scans through the local radio frequencies until she lands on a channel playing something with heavy drums and guitar. Then she dials up the volume––though not too too much, for she knows animals tend to have more fragile ears. She only hopes it's enough to grab the turtles' attention. (After that, however, she doesn't quite know what will happen or what to expect. Will they disperse? Will they be angry? Will they understand what has happened? And what should they do with the empty shells that lady Jezebel had already harvested? There must be some way to honor them as she does not quite feel comfortable with keeping them.)

All of Verity's questions are answered soon enough. As the heavy metal carries over to the cluster, it does seem to break their trance. In a way. Just not in the way Verity had expected or anticipated, because now they seem angry. Not because their ancestors have been desecrated, mind you, but angry because the song has been disrupted! "Alright..." she mutters, watching as they hiss aggressively and, well, they turn away from the empty turtle shells, but now they are aiming to climb aboard the ship and... Yes, this is not good, because they're attacking the crew. "Oh, Divinities, I had not thought that would happen! Iskra, have you any ideas? We can't exactly—ouch!" Yes, one has snapped at her ankle and she's shaking her leg to try and free herself from the animal's jaw. "Ah––any ideas? Certainly anything can be better than this!" As she doesn't think it can get worse.

 

[Syntra]

In truth, Iskra didn't know that much about turtles. Presumably, they were vegetarian-- the lack of teeth would make it difficult for them to consume meat, at the very least, and the pirate was convinced that they weren't technologically advanced enough to invent a blender. No, that would have been preposterous! One of her books would have mentioned that, surely, and yet, yet she had never come across the tiniest hint of something like that happening. Now, the creatures also didn't exactly strike her as warriors, if she were to be completely honest. Not to underestimate anyone, of course, but wasn't the fact that they dragged a whole fortress on their back the very proof of that? Generally, predators saw no need to retreat-- they were the reason other animals cowered in fear, you see, and they tended to be very aware of that. So, in conclusion? Iskra didn't think that turtles were dangerous. Sure, sure, any animal might choose the fight response when backed into a corner, but what could turtles possibly do to the likes of them? To the princess who ruled over death, and the pirate who had conquered it? Nothing, nothing, nothing at all!

...was what she'd say normally, anyway. Unfortunately for both of them, however, the Shade had decided to demonstrate why, exactly, one shouldn't rely on one's limited understanding of the world-- that there was more than one aspect to everything, and ignoring the complexity would only bring you pain.

"What the--!" Ylna hissed in the background. "Wow, the little bitch bit me! Can you believe? I thought they were supposed to, like, float around and look grateful, instead of... ouch, ouch ...bullying me. By the way, great idea, Verity!"

"Silence, Ylna," Iskra snapped. "I'm trying to think here." Because, yes, this was quite a conundrum! Normally, the captain wouldn't have hesitated to strike back-- each enemy had to be reduced to ashes, after all, if only to warn those who might come after them. 'Gaze upon my remains, and know that this fate awaits you.' An effective message, wasn't it? Except that turtles weren't their enemies, and no, Iskra wasn't about to murder the very creatures they'd come to save! (...she had had enough, for multiple lifetimes, even. The rivers of blood she had spilled couldn't be taken back, but it didn't mean that Iskra had to continue along that trajectory, did it? Once, the pirate had thought she was a leaf, carried by the wind-- a slave to the Shade's whims, as changeable as spring weather. And, yes, to an extent, that assertion had been right. Washing the blood off one's hands was never as simple as diluting it with water, oh no, it wasn't! The ghosts of it would follow you, always, always, always, but you being sentenced to commit the same sins... ah, that was but an excuse, actually. An excuse, invented so that she didn't have to work on herself! Verity had helped her to see it for the cowardice it was, and for that, the pirate would be eternally grateful. What the princess had given her was tomorrow, you know? A better, brighter future, with stars within her reach. ...still, that didn't solve her current dilemma.) "I, um, not quite. This sort of behavior is - ouch! - highly atypical for the species. Did you... did you know that, among many cultures, they are considered to be the main symbol of peace?" An interesting factoid, maybe, though it didn't make their bites hurt any less. By the Shade, by the Shade, by the Shade! What now? How to save both themselves, and the turtles?

"...we're going to get out of here," Iskra announced suddenly, before pushing a few buttons on her wristwatch. "Clearly, the shell is disturbing their cognitive patterns. I mean, they wouldn't normally act out in such violent ways, so I can only assume that it's the shell causing this. Luckily, they're focused on us now. So, what does that mean? If we lead them far away from the source of corruption, they should revert to their usual selves!"

"...or not, and we will be retreating for nothing."

"Shut up, Ylna," Eran recommended to her. "I like the plan, captain! I'll tell everyone to prepare for... hmm, a little race. Should be exciting enough." Of course, Iskra waited no time in getting behind the steering wheel-- Inure now spoke to her, yes, but the force of habit compelled her to grab it, anyway. Holding something solid in her hands made her feel more... in control, maybe? The whole universe may have been an ever-expanding ball of chaos, yes, but she did have her solid point, and with that, Iskra was unbeatable. "Get ready," she warned, a confident smirk on her lips. "It might get a little hot in here."

Which it did, for sure! Inure groaned with exertion, but then it flew forward, much like an arrow that had just been shot out of its bow-- it glided across the star-dotted sky, indeed, with the turtles still behind. "Tenacious, aren't they? I wonder how this happened, truly. Perhaps some primordial switch was activated in their brains, and-- ah." Not that these theories weren't nice, but the dark, dark nothingness that swirled in front of them? Nothingness wrapped in rainbow, and dragging them closer with its invisible tendrils? If Iskra wasn't terribly mistaken, that was a...

"Aw, fucking shit," Ylna cursed. "Who the hell put a fucking black hole right in the middle of our escape route?"

 

[starboob]

♕ PRINCESS VERITY (EXILED) ♕​

... She hadn't thought their current predicament could get any worse than it is and yet there is someone or something clearly trying to prove Verity wrong seeing as they are now staring into the eye of a black hole. (A mother of Death, or Death herself––it depends on which sage sister you ask, really, though those particulars are hardly important when standing in front of one.) Were they not about to meet an untimely end, Verity might have thought that the sight were truly special or Beautiful. It is the most pure shade of black she has ever seen and to be in front of something so magnificent and powerful could even be awe-inspiring. But perhaps from some distance away where Inure, her crew, the pirate, the princess, and all the turtles were not being pulled into the center of the abyss. As far as she is aware, there is no escaping the pull of black hole; and as far as she is aware being sucked into one most certainly means Death. A bone crushing Death to be precise. Just. Fantastic. Really how she wanted this day to end. (Also how does one miss a black hole showing up on their scanners? Verity would have thought that Inure would have alerted them to such a thing, but the ship appears just as blindsided as the rest of the crew.)

At least the turtles, now away from that cursed shell that warped their minds, are no longer biting at people's ankles, so the princess figures that is a win––however small and insignificant now that Inure's hull is starting to pull towards the center of the dark mass. 'Truly, what even is the meaning of this?' (Annoyance may not be everyone's first reaction to facing odds so staggering that you may as well lay down in a comfortable position and accept your fate, but the princess is not everyone and never has been.) "Iskra, step aside," she orders, using her most royal tone––it's such a far cry from her usual tone that she almost sounds like a guest in her body. It's also not a tone she makes a habit of using with the pirate either, though there isn't the Time to feel bad about it now.

She places her palm against one of the blank panels of the control board and sends a message directly to Inure. Surely, in her long Life traversing the endlessness of space she may have encountered these sorts of things before or perhaps heard stories from the various tenants who have occupied her. (It's not like the chroniclers are providing any of their wisdom––they look dazed and confused more than anything else.) In rapid fire, the princess sifts through Inure's memories for anything related to blackholes and when she finds one that appears promising she looks towards Iskra then the rest of the crew. "We're too close to pull away even if we tried to supercharge the engines––meaning light speed and teleportation are a waste for now," she explains, "but if we aim towards the black hole's heart, there is a chance we'll push through to the other side." Which she realizes does not make sense––after all, who has ever heard of the other side of a black hole before? Even saying it out loud, she realizes it sounds ludicrous. Currently, however, it is the only semblance of a plan they have so they can either try it and potentially live to see another day or they can accept that their bones are about to be crushed by the universe's most mysterious phenomena.

Presumably, Inure has done this once before and she trusts that even if the principle of it hardly seems sound. Before she turns back towards the helm, she takes a look at Iskra. Not a long one. Not one that suggests this is their final moment. She is not even tempted to say all the things she has never said before. She refuses to let herself think like that. That would be accepting defeat and perhaps that likely possibility is just too much for her to bear in her potential end moments. So she only shoots her a grin as her head whips back forward, her features becoming steely as she raises the shields and concentrates their energy towards the ship's nose. She hits some other buttons that transform the ship in small ways, making her more aerodynamic, and then? Then she has Inure line up with the absolute center of the mass and thrusts the ship forward––yes, using about all the rocket fuel they have left!

Now, if the crew had yet to get used to Inure's teleportation then it is doubtful they are going to like the feeling of being forced through the eye of a needle, because it feels like that. At least when Inure teleports it's usually a quick feeling of discomfort, this feels prolonged. Like the ship is slowly morphing and wriggling her way through this eye and with each of her movements, the occupants of the ship can feels themselves being pinched and crushed and it's nearly endless. (For a moment Verity even thinks she may have missed the target and that this is what it means to be fed to the mother of Death.) Except that it does end. Perhaps in a second or maybe in a week, but they come out and...

And Inure crash lands onto a beach. A tropical beach at that. The chroniclers are all awash in the ocean and, likewise, anyone above deck has also been tossed across the fine sandy beaches.

The princess flops onto her back and groans, before she slowly rises to her feet, stumbling before she catches her balance and when she does... well, when she does, she is staring at the pointy end of an electrified spear.

"Who dares to enter Queen Keilani's most holy queendom without permission? Destroying her beach, contaminating her waters, and..." the spear-woman tilts her head to the side, looking over Verity's shoulder. "Are those the chroniclers?"

 

[Syntra]

In her short existence, Iskra had experienced many things, indeed. Balancing on the edge of life and death, for example, and even going beyond that boundary; worshiping goddesses and devils alike; both savoring and rejecting the forbidden fruit. The things that she hadn't done? That would be a short list, truly! A short list that was bound to get even shorter, actually, for now they were going to conquer a black hole. Alright, why not! The captain would love to say that she was surprised, but at this point, that would have been a lie of epic proportions. (Impossible? Ah, yes, yes, many would brand it with that word, but if Iskra had learned something by Verity's side, it was that it was an excuse, and a poor one at that. What was the difference between 'couldn't do it' and 'didn't want it hard enough', huh? Passion, along with inner fire. ...a few months ago, the pirate would have called her princess a fool, really. 'Do you think you can bend the natural laws? Are you that arrogant, Verity? The worms in your brain might have convinced you so, but that doesn't mean that they're right! 'A few months ago' wasn't 'now,' however, and when Iskra examined her own heart? Oh, there was only resolve, harder than steel.) "Alright," Iskra nodded, as if Verity had suggested getting ice-cream and not, you know, redefining the impossible. "Fasten your seatbelts, ladies. Make sure to hold onto something, too, and--"

"Are you seriously suggesting that we are going to do it?" Ylna asked, disbelief clear in her eyes. "I mean, fuck, Iskra! I know that you literally cannot die, but some of us weren't lucky enough to--"

"Captain," Iskra corrected, soft and precise. "If you have a better idea, Ylna, then I'm all ears. Well? What have you come up with?"

"...fine, fine," the woman spat on the floor, apparently realizing the full extent of the hopelessness of their situation. "Might as well die in an epic way, I guess. I hope that, when they compose songs of our exploits, they spell my name right, at least. Like, how hard is it? My name isn't Wylna or Ylne or Yrune, or whatever fucked up, mangled version those sociopaths came up with." ...alright, so Ylna was clearly losing it, but you know what? As long as she followed the orders, Iskra refused to let it bother her. "Verity?" she asked, before putting a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Whatever happens from now on, I want you to know that I trust you. My life is in your hands, indeed, and there isn't anyone I'd rather entrust it to." Because, when confronted with destruction personified? Her immortality was but a moth, flying too close to a lamp-- a snowflake, destined to melt the second the sun shone just a little bit more. (No, not even the Shade was powerful enough to withstand this. It wasn't, wasn't, wasn't, and, absurdly enough, Iskra felt... oddly grateful for that? For once in her life, you see, she wasn't some mythical other, sailing through danger with the ease of a sakura blossom traveling down the river. The fear that fluttered against her stomach, like the wings of a butterfly? It was something she shared with Verity-- with every single woman on board, really, and the connection was stronger than any physical chain. Stronger than anything she had ever experienced, maybe.)

...before Inure entered the black hole, Iskra might have, perhaps foolishly, wondered why women didn't travel through them regularly. If something was on the other side, it could be considered a convenient shortcut, right? Well, let's say that after the hole chewed them up and spat them out, the pirate did not feel inclined to ask that question anymore. By the Shade, she thought, trying to keep her breakfast in its rightful place, let this torture end! The human body hadn't been made for such trials, that much was obvious, but the same went for Seeds, apparently, and--

--and then it was over, as far as it had begun. (The captain was afraid to open her eyes, almost, as some part of her feared that only the emptiness of the hole would stare back at her, but the voices that reached her ears? Those were human, and quite distinctly at that. ...come to think of it, her mouth was full of sand, too. Most likely, that wasn't a common substance to be found in the belly of the beast? And, sure enough, the human-seeming voices demanded very human-like things of them.)

"Yes," Iskra said, after coughing up some sand. "Those are the chroniclers, indeed. I know not who your Queen Keilani is, but we come in peace. In fact, we weren't even aware that we were coming. Can you, ah, see our ship? Our landing wasn't exactly voluntary, I have to say, and--"

"Spare me your excuses," one of the women spat out. "Do you believe us to be that clueless, villain? To bring chroniclers of all creatures to our shores, and wrap yourself in the garb of innocence! Have you no shame? Needless to say, your vile machinations will not work anymore. The chroniclers may have sent our civilization into the dark ages once, yes, but since then, we've steeled our hearts, and closed our ears." Wait, what? "No, we will not listen to your nonsense. Guards, seize them! At once!"

 

[starboob]

♕ PRINCESS VERITY (EXILED) ♕​

Of all the prisons that Verity has ever been held in, and mind you she has only ever been held inside of Inure's prior to this one, this is the most ornate. The bars that prevent them from escaping are ivory in color, with odd runes marking them, but are not made of bone––as trying to break them earlier revealed. While usual prisons contain many cells, this one is just a single large room full of the crew, her pirate, and a bunch of... stuff. There are books, odd objects for which she has no name, and pieces of art from all different mediums sitting in high piles throughout the large cell as if they have also committed egregious crimes against this queen Keilani. In some ways, it is much like some fancy hostel––the beds that line the back wall, even, are plush and feathery. It's like being held against their will at some private spa, to be quite honest, and in that it is strange and that strangeness is so disarming that Verity wants to be twice as cautious.

The oddity does not even stop at their prison. When they had been apprehended and captured back on the beach, the soldiers had not even bothered stripping them of their weapons. Simply, they rounded them all up and tossed them into this cell as if they were not dealing with one of the most fearsome and infamous pirate gangs in the galaxy. (The turtles, too, had been gathered but they are nowhere to be seen and that does worry Verity. For if they have only managed to endanger them further, then she shall never forgive herself.) From all of this Verity does not know what to make of this queen or her nation.

It's a few hours of lounging in the cell later that the guard from earlier, who Verity has learned is called Samaria, appears once more and announces, "Princess Verity, our gracious queen has granted you an audience. Please come with me."

"What of my second? May she come as well?" she asks, gesturing towards none other than Iskra. "It is her crew who is held here as well and I shall see no one without her."

"She is a pirate with a bounty on her head," Samaria sneers, "Further our queen does not need to enterta––" the woman is interrupted by some unseen force, an internal struggle appears on her face, and then she relents, "Our gracious queen will see you both. Come forward."

Again, they are not stripped of their weapons. They are not even checked for all the dangerous devious that are most definitely strapped to their belts or hidden in their boots. The security is so lax that Verity has to wonder who this queen is and her question will be answered soon enough. The guard does not open the ivory door to let them out; instead she reaches and pulls them both forward through the barrier as if it were mist. Then, before the princess can even blink, she finds herself standing before the queen, Keilani, with Iskra beside her. Verity does her best to hide her surprise in her deep curtsey, but it is likely obvious she had not expected to see a damn child sitting on the throne––no older than eleven, if Verity had to guess her age.

"Princess Verity," the queen dips her chin in slight, her voice, while full of youth, also carries the whispers of her ancestors in it. It's downright chilling. "Captain Iskra. My priestesses tell me you come bearing an omen, though you try to pass for friend. I am inclined to believe them. However, ignoring outsiders has led us to devastation once before. I shan't make my foremothers' same mistakes. So tell me, what brings an infamous pirate and an exiled princess to my tropic queendom? And what have you to say of the chroniclers, an enemy to my people's progress?" The young queen lifts a brow, leans forward, and steeples her fingers in front of her mouth. Her gaze is searing. All knowing. Verity wants to shrink under it. (Who knew a child could be so threatening?) "I have not all day. Do speak."

"Your majesty," Verity clears her throat, giving a sideways glance to Iskra, "We come in peace––as my confidant, the captain, told your guard on the beach, we had not even meant to land here. Our ship is ancient, you see, and her navigation is not what it used to be. Thus while we were making a jump from one edge of the galaxy to the next, she must have gotten mixed up and spit us out here," she says, deciding that telling this queen they had traveled through a black hole will sound more like a lie than the one she has just spun. "I admit, the chroniclers were with us when we had made the jump. We were aiming to save them from poachers as they are a protected species under the Galactic Council. It was not our intention to bring them to a place where they have already caused so much Pain and misfortune. If you co––"

"You lie to me, princess, and dishonor yourself," the queen interrupts, her voice calm. "Do not think me a fool just because of my age. Pirate, since the princess cannot be trusted with her half-lies, I shall put my faith in you. Tell me what really happened, before my executioner's axe grows thirsty."

 

[Syntra]

A prison. A short word, indeed-- much like a sigh about to escape from one's lips, in that it contained the weight of the world despite its small presence. (In truth, Iskra had never really thought of the concept too much. And, honestly, why should she? She was a pirate, free like a bird, and Inure was her wings. No force in the universe could contain her, that much was obvious! To her, 'barriers' were just a meaningless cluster of vowels and consonants, meant to stop those who knew not how to rise beyond themselves. ...well, normally, anyway. It was hard to rise beyond physical bars, you see? "Stay on guard," Iskra whispered to Verity. "It may be that the queen wants to give us a false sense of security before she goes straight for the jugular. The Holy Vessel... she used to do that often, if memory serves well. She would treat her prisoners with kindness, but behind their backs? Always, without fail, she asked me to sharpen my blade." Yes, her blade that the queen hadn't taken from her, for some unfathomable reason. (Had their society abolished violence? Iskra had heard of planets, mostly isolated ones, where they'd buried their weapons eons ago-- where they'd decided that, no, blood was a currency they did not want to deal with. Supposedly, the concept had vanished from from their cultures so thoroughly that they no longer even had a word for it! ...which, of course, had only led to them being easy pickings for the eventual conquerors. Sitting ducks, really. Any and all visitors they'd accepted with grace, and for that warm welcome? Oh, they'd been given a very, hmm, thorough lesson on the properties of steel. So, either this queendom had developed similarly, or the local women didn't even see them as a threat! A terrifying option to be sure, because Iskra didn't even want to imagine what kind of powers you had to have at your disposal in order to not fear a sharp blade. What, exactly, had they gotten themselves into?)

That question, at least, would soon be answered, whether they liked it or not. "Yes," Iskra lifted her chin, "I am her second in command. Two bodies we may be, but our hearts beat as one, and without me, you will never get a complete picture. Surely, your queen would hate that? She's a wise ruler, I'm certain," she wasn't at all certain of that, but Verity had taught her a lot about the benefits of small, white lies, "so naturally, having to make a decision based on a mere fragment of reality would be downright torturous for her. No loving subject would ever put her in that position." The faithful translation, of course, would be that Iskra refused to let her princess walk into the lion's den unaccompanied, but again, the guards did not need to hear that. (Honesty, she'd learned, was a precious gift, not something you should just expect from strangers. Especially if the strangers also happened to be your prisoners!) Hmmm, the pirate thought, not failing to notice just how abruptly the opinion of the guard changed. Almost like the direction of wind, you see? Except that, when serving a monarch, a mere soldier could rarely afford to indulge in such nonsense. Oh no, no, no! Not if they enjoyed having their head attached to their neck, anyway. Is she communicating with them telepathically, perhaps? Iskra hadn't heard of a queen who possessed such an ability, but to be fair, most people outside of her planet probably hadn't heard of the Shade, either. Ah, perspective and its limits! That had been the true prison all along-- how, inevitably, your mind could only ever wrap around itself, and all the things it considered familiar.

Still, a confrontation with the unfamiliar was a good cure for that, and one they were to receive in a very concentrated dose. (This child queen? There was more to her than met the eye, Iskra was sure, for meeting her gaze was enough to send a shiver down the spine. Yes, her, the fearsome pirate! ...her sword had butchered many, nobles and the lowborn alike-- all had bled the same shade of red, and the same pleas had fallen from their lips, too. 'No. No, please, spare me! You can have anything if you just... if you just let me go. I won't hurt anyone anymore, I promise.' The script was almost identical each time, with minor variations. Iskra could recite it from memory at this point, even with the right intonation and everything, and yet, yet the pirate felt that it would go very differently here, if she were to draw her sword. (...why did she feels as if her weapon would do her about as much good as a blade of grass would have? As if this Keilani saw her very core, and considered it to be rotten?)

She must see more than our eyes can, Iskra judged, when Verity's lie was called out. No need to bluff, then. "Indeed, my queen is wise. Princess Verity may have obscured some facts, but I have no doubt she only did so out of cautiousness-- she did not lie to you egregiously, and what she omitted she must have omitted because it is utterly fantastical in nature. Everything about her words was true, except for how we arrived. We were..." Iskra gulped, steeling herself, "...we were blindsided by the appearance of a black hole, and the only way out was to pilot through it. That was what we did, your highness, and how we ended up here. On my honor, we didn't mean to disturb the peace of your queendom."

"On your honor?" the girl laughed, her voice clear like bells. "And what, exactly, is the honor of a pirate worth? Although... hmm, it doesn't appear as if you're lying." Her eyes widened then, in something that most of all resembled realization, but it was a blink-and-you'll-miss it moment-- so swiftly did Keilani return to her unimpressed self, indeed, that Iskra had to wonder whether she'd witnessed it at all.

"Fine, you aren't a liar. You know what, though? It is not up to you to judge the weight of your princess's crime. She did lie to a queen, after all, and there is only one punishment for that! Let's have fun together, shall we?" Keilani clapped, again and again and again, and the sound of it was entirely overwhelming-- a gong, practically ear-shattering. And, when silence finally reasserted itself? Verity found herself standing on the white sands of an arena, surrounded by a cheering crowd.

"Princess, princess, princess!"

"Show her who's the boss, Verity!"

Her? Her, who? A valid question, yes, but even answers to valid questions could shake you to your core from time to time. You know, such as when Seraphina walked into the arena, her spear in her hand! "Missed me, Verity?"

 

[starboob]

♕ PRINCESS VERITY (EXILED) ♕​

It is fair to call the princess out on her lie, absolutely, and yet it is such an infrequent occurrence she had forgotten that there are those who can see past the half-truths she bends to create a reality of her own. It shocks her to have a mere child call her out on this, too––not because children have a tendency to lie on whim or anything like that... she just, well, she supposes it has nothing to do with age and yet to to be talked to in such a manner by someone who is her junior is rattling and likely is rattling to anyone. (Anyone without enough humility, that is.) This all crosses Verity rather plainly, either forgetting about her precious masks or so taken aback that they fall immediately. Either way, she knows now to drop her lies for this queen, her piercing eyes, and her chilling presence that can see histories before they are spoken.

Too bad, then, that the present must always pay for the transgressions of the past, because in one moment Verity is bowing her head and opening her mouth to atone for her actions and when she looks up? Oh, it seems expiation shall take a different form. Is this but a dream or reality? She cannot tell, because like being lost in a dream it feels real. The smell of the sand, the vibrations from the audience's thunder, even the heat of the triple suns from up above all feel so real that Verity is half convinced she has been transported to a new location. (It would not be out of the realm of possibility given how quickly they traveled into the throne room from the prison. Clearly, this world and this queen have magic beyond what she has read about in fantasy and in historic record.) Though what really clues the princess into this elaborate trick?

"Missed me, Verity?"​

​

The chilling singsong cadence of her voice that ripples down her spine until all her joints have seized and stiffened. 'No... It's... She's not real,' she tries to convince herself, again and again, but the funny thing about nightmares? Despite how surreal and absurd they can be they almost always feel real and even if the princess logically knows she is lightyears from home and Seraphina would never travel outside of their planet's atmosphere, her mind has her believing otherwise. (There's always, always a chance that a wildcard like Seraphina will do the unexpected. It's how she earned her wings. It's how she became known as Death's creative.) Quickly or slowly, Verity could not tell you, she reaches for her swords, her fingers fumbling around the hilts and watching her pull them out is like watching a fresh faced squire try to mimic her knight. Her movements are awkward and childlike. (Had she really faced and slain lady Jezebel just hours or a day prior?)

"You never were much a soldier, gladiator, or knight. Always a princess. A damsel in distress, but no knight shall save you!" the winged woman laughs, a song of dying galaxies. The illusion spun from Verity's memories and nightmares stretches out her wings impossibly wide (were they ever that large?) so that all three suns are blocked and Verity is cast in her shadow; so that Seraphina exists as a shadow. Verity barely has time to lift her swords and bat away the spear that flies straight towards her heart. Of course, just like she remembers, the spear flies back into the queen's hand. "Come on! Kill me! You have always wanted to––show me who you really are, snake!"

"That is not what I wanted! It was not my plot––I-I––"

"I-I––" she mocks, "You what? Was your mind controlled? Was your family held for ransom? Or did you just make a choice and then Regret it? Well, tell me, what do you Regret more? Making that choice or not killing me when you had your chance?" Then... Then the arena fills to the brim with people. Civilians who died in the massacre and following war. Faces Verity knew. Faces she didn't but are still burned in her mind. Those of her family who she refuses to name. The princess cowers and backs away until she bumps into the wall of the arena. The army of the dead, however, creep towards her in eerie unison. Their hands are outstretched and reaching for her and they whisper, "Your fault. Your fault. Your fault."

She closes her eyes when there are only feet that separate herself from the crowd and just when she expects one to reach for her and, she doesn't know, rip her apart, it doesn't come. Instead there's another voice, familiar and warm, and she says, "Worry not, my guiding star. I shall protect you." When Verity opens her eyes? It is Iskra, donning full blue steel armor with her blade raised. She shouts towards the crowd, "Stand back! She is not the one you want––turn your ire towards the real villain!" This Iskra points her blade towards the sky where the flying queen resides. Either placated or something else entirely, the crowd starts to disappear in puffs of smoke and finally Seraphina flies down into the arena, agitation forming a thin line across her lips.

"You never knew how to fight for yourself, Verity," she spits, ignoring the Iskra standing between her and the princess. "I'll kill her, too. I'll kill them all until you stop me." For some reason... For some reason, the Iskra who had been so lively before stands still and Verity watches as Seraphina thrusts her spear through this statue Iskra's heart, piercing her armor as if it were cotton, skewering her until the bloody pointy tip is poking out of Iskra's back, getting closer and closer to Verity––

The illusion drops then. Verity is back in the throne room, her body drenched in cold sweat, and she finds herself crumpled on her knees, tears streaming down her face. It's over and she's afraid to open her eyes. She's afraid to see that Iskra might have died.

"It's over, princess. You may open your eyes," queen Keilani announces, nodding her head over to her guards and wordlessly ordering them to bring a long couch into the chamber. "Liars must face the consequences of their lies. It seems you have yet to learn what it means to lie to a queen––kind or cruel, there is a price to pay. I shall not be toyed with and I trust you will show me your true face now. You need not fear yourself." The couch is brought in and the guards help the princess into the seat. They even bring her chocolate? The queen then turns to Iskra, "Pirate, did you enjoy that show? The princess must care for you dearly for her mind to conjure such a wicked image. Tell me, what do you make of that?" (Wait, were they not here to prove their innocence and explain the misunderstanding with the chroniclers? Why, pray tell, is the queen suddenly interesting in the pair of them? Surely, she is no gossip.)

 

[Syntra]

What a cruel, cruel spectacle. Was it truly necessary for Verity to pay? Trade was the cornerstone of their civilization, yes-- something for something else, whether it was a smile for a smile, or a fistful of coins for the life-sustaining grain. Everyone understood why these transactions needed to happen, really. Then again, what exactly was Verity giving up here, and for what? Lies were dastardly, indeed, but to be punished like that... it struck her as counterproductive, to be frank. The queen didn't even receive anything from it! (Tears weren't a currency, nor could they be used to water flowerbeds. No, they were just a side effect of despair, the blood of a soul being torn apart, and seeing Verity suffer like that? Oh, it made Iskra grip her sword tighter. Come on, princess. You won't let her break you like this, now will you? You must know that this isn't real. The weight of an illusion cannot snap your spine-- I just don't believe that. I can't, and I won't.) Every single fiber in her body was screaming at her to help, to shake Verity's shoulder and awaken her from her living nightmare, but... well, wouldn't that only make things worse? Keilani's wrath would surely turn against her as well, and then they'd be stuck in a tedious punishment cycle. No, it seemed that Verity had to drink her cup of bitterness to the very last drop! ...she could do it, though. Iskra believed that, with all her heart, and that provided some solace.

Looking felt disrespectful, somehow, but at the same time? She couldn't tear her eyes away. The queen... yes, yes, the one from the memories. The one who turned her life into living hell! Though, ah, who is this? Herself, Iskra knew, though distorted-- a reflection in a cracked mirror, really. It's not me, Verity. It isn't, and you know it! Stay strong, for me and all that need you. It didn't come off as a surprise thar Verity managed to do exactly that, and when she snapped out of the nightmare? Iskra put a reassuring hand on her shoulder, gripping it tightly. "Worry not, my sweet. I'm here with you, as I always will be. Cry if you have to, but don't succumb to despair. There is no point to that, for I am unhurt." ...unhurt, and also unable to die. Why mourn her passings, even? The pirate still couldn't wrap her mind around that, though she didn't feel it necessary to argue with her princess right now.

...was this a game to the queen, however? The question certainly hinted at that conclusion, and Iskra couldn't help but frown. "Why should that be important to you? The matters of my heart are my own, my queen. I don't think that answering the question would bring you any tangible benefit."

"Perhaps not," Keilani agreed, "but these things aren't always about tangible benefits, captain. Must I remind you that you are my prisoner?"

"...fine. It didn't surprise me, if that's what you wish to know. I am aware that I am dear to the princess, and have been for a while."

"Curious," the child commented, before shooting a glance at the sobbing mess of a princess. "Thank you for your honesty. Let us return to the main topic, then." With a flick of a wrist, she called forth a maid, and the woman poured a cup of tea for all of them. "I understand now," Keilani began, "that your deeds weren't motivated by malice. That works in your favor. Even so, horrible things can be born from good intentions, and ignorance is the most deadly of poisons. Wouldn't you agree?"

"Well," Iskra looked at Verity, "the relationship between the intent and the actual consequence can be... complicated, at the very least. I don't think that anyone would be able to argue against that." Because, when you took an action? It was like throwing a stone into a pond-- no longer could you control the ripples, nor anything else associated with them. 'Measure twice, cut once.' A wise proverb, wasn't it?

"The right answer," the queen conceded, before sipping on her tea. "Know, then, that the chroniclers are our hated enemies. Princess Verity," she turned to Iskra's companion, and suddenly, she looked younger than she was. Like a child, in truth. (The cold in her eyes? It was still there, though more than anything, its presence seemed sad now. This girl knew not how to exist without her shield, to put it simply.) "If I am not terribly mistaken, your mothers are dead. Murdered. Their blood was spilled unjustly-- that, if nothing else, I can sense. What punishment would you choose for their murderer? What would you need to do before you felt that, yes, she has suffered enough? The turtles killed my mother, you see, and I'm trying to decide what to do with them. Well? What will you say now?"

 

[starboob]

♕ PRINCESS VERITY (EXILED) ♕​

Iskra's hand falls on Verity's shoulder and when it does, it's like an anchor pulling her back down to reality. One where she feels safe enough to open her teary eyes and immediately her head turns to look at her pirate, making sure that she really is there because sometimes after particularly cruel nightmares she is never sure of what is real and what isn't. Her hand reaches to cover Iskra's, again comforted by the warmth of her skin, another sign that she is still alive. (Yes, yes, she knows that Iskra cannot die and that Seraphina, were she to come into their lives, can never take the pirate away from her. In that, she's chosen the perfect person to pour all of her vulnerabilities into and somehow that feels like she has cheated. If only because nearly everyone else she held dear has already died and, at this point, it feels like a law that everyone Verity loves is doomed to die.)

When she is helped onto the couch, she wishes this were a more private moment where she could lean against Iskra and be held in her warmth and strength. But she dare not make such a move now. Even if queen Keilani knows the truth of her heart, it would be undignified to collapse so fantastically in front of her. That, and she would prefer the safety of privacy when subjecting herself to further vulnerabilities. So she settles for clutching Iskra's hand and bringing it close to her chest, holding it like a shield over her heart. Her lips brush lightly against the pirate's fingers and once she is reassured enough that her pirate is safe, her sobs begin to subside.

'What a cruel trick and for what purpose, really?' she thinks, nibbling on the piece of chocolate that had been handed to her. While she knows queens are rather fond of punishment, she does not see how that particular punishment fit the crime––especially when she had only lied to avoid being called a liar. Had she known queen Keilani had the gift of clarity, she might have trusted her more to understand that their tale was true. Still, even with her confusion, she doesn't let herself get tangled in that as she is reminded they are prisoners and they need to figure out some way to freedom. Shutting down or shutting out the girl who holds the key to their freedom? She does not think that wise.

Though it is hard, and harder still, to keep an open mind with the frivolous nature of the child queen's question that has no apparent connection to their business. It seems as though they are entertaining her curiosities more than anything else. 'Reserve your judgments, there could be purpose in her questions. She does not strike me as a girl who wastes her Time,' she reminds herself while she listens to Iskra's curt response. She decides against adding anything else, because, really, even if the queen is fishing for some answer to a question that has yet to be asked, she does not think it her business. Besides, the nosy gossipy crew aside, she does like the privacy they have been able to share. Even the crew can only guess (and hope) what is happening behind closed doors.

As the queen addresses her, she sets the piece of chocolate she had been nibbling on down next to her tea and gives Keilani her full attention. Though she does find Keilani's method of obtaining this information rather invasive, she does not speak on it. She places her reservations to the side and listens. The more the queen talks, the more she realizes how much they have common and that is what she decides to grasp onto. (She has found, since knowing a pirate, that connection is the most valuable currency in the galaxy and it is not even that hard to come by when one knows how to listen.) She lets go of Iskra's hand and clasps her hands in her lap as she mulls over how to speak, ultimately deciding to speak candidly rather than choosing her words more carefully.

"My condolences to you, your majesty. The Pain of losing ones mother or mothers is something you can only ever be inured to it. Grief, I have learned, does not go away. It becomes a fierce part of you and it changes you. In that, I can understand your want for Justice. However, I cannot pretend that the murderer of my mothers is the same as yours, for there is an entire ocean that they call space separating them. The woman responsible for their Deaths chose her path, long before I ever knew her. She chose Violence for the sake of Violence. To tell you how I would punish her and know that you will use that as justification for the fate of the chroniclers? I cannot. It is not the same for, as far as I am aware, the chroniclers do not have a stake in Violence. Do correct me if I am misrepresenting the creatures we seek to protect. My heart is open."

The queen's eyes narrow, as if displeased with the princess's response and she sits back on her throne, "Why distinguish murderers? Is there a point to say that one is less cruel simply because she is not a sadist? Either way, it still stands that life was taken unfairly, unjustly." The young queen pauses for a beat, staring down the two prisoners before her, as a great debate seems to wage a war inside her head. She relents, "The chroniclers took my mother because she refused to sacrifice her only flesh, you know. One of us was to die, you see. Our offense? The chroniclers claim we disturbed the hand of fate and irreversibly changed entire histories.

"You may have noticed our triple suns. Long ago, you see, we used to only have one, but she was reaching the end of her life and as she died, she took her warmth away from the lands. Our tropic nation began to freeze. First the plants withered, then the bugs started to fall, that resulted in the prey dying off, and the predators were following suit. My ancestor, queen Tamah, saw her people suffering and took action. With some rope and her strong arms, she lassoed two additional stars from the center of the galaxy to our solar system. Life returned after she did that. She saved us and for that, the chroniclers demanded punishment. They would have slain all our people had my mother not fought so fiercely with them, and they ultimately settled for a sacrifice of flesh from one descendant of Tamah. Tell me, princess, do you side with chroniclers in this?"

In all honesty? She does not. She can understand their upset and yet she can also see why queen Tamah had done what she had done. Verity cannot say she would have made a different choice were her own planet collapsing. She shakes her head, "No. I was not aware the chroniclers to have such a narrow scope. Still, is it fair to doom them all? We all have our role in this galaxy and who knows what chain of events shall spark if they are slain. They are not normal space turtles, queen Keilani, and so losing them may have lasting effects. Perhaps even more lasting than the chain of events that led to their ire," by that she means queen Tamah's action. "You are a queen, however, and we are two prisoners. The choice is yours and there is little we can do to stop you, but I implore you to think beyond the omen we brought. Is the omen the chroniclers or your demand for Justice?"

The young queen, who clearly has wisdom beyond measure, considers this carefully. She turns to look at the pirate, "Captain Iskra, what say you? I see an interesting story behind your eyes that may lend you a different perspective than your princess."

 

[Syntra]

Conflict, Iskra had learned, was like a tree. You could see the trunk, yes, as well as the branches and the leaves, but the roots? That which truly mattered, in other words? Those were largely hidden underground, out of sight and out of mind. (Even so, everything sprang from them. Every little cruelty, every seemingly inexplicable decision had been born from something, and to assume that it had appeared out of thin air just because she couldn’t see the threads would have been the height of foolishness. Of course, the captain had known that all along. How not? Only a naive child with her eyes glued to the stars would have missed the complexity of all the connections, tying them all together with a steel rope. The difference between knowing the general principle and being privy to specific details of a situation, however? Oh, that was like being aware that fire burned, and having your fingers reduced to cinders!) So she, too, lost her mother. In hindsight, that only made sense-- why, after all, choose a child to be your ruler? Why burden her shoulders with such a responsibility, if you had literally any other choice? Behind her stern gaze, there was a tragedy, and now… now they were getting a glimpse of it, for some reason. (Why? Weren’t they her prisoners? A single word of hers and their heads would be rolling on the floor, separated from their lifeless bodies! Again, Iskra was far from an expert on her culture, but why would you seek counsel from those that had proven themselves untrustworthy? From those who would say anything, solely to avoid the grimmest of fates? …it wasn’t that she was complaining, though. Not in the slightest. Wisdom of wisdom, regardless from whose mouth it came, and if the young queen saw it, then more power to her.)

She’s being honest with us, too, the pirate realized. Outsiders we may be, and yet, yet she is talking to us as if we were long lost sisters. Outside of textbooks, history could be a very personal thing-- memories soaked with blood, sweat, and tears, really. So, that the queen had put away her mask? That she had decided to show them real vulnerability, along with her numerous scars? Iskra could respect that, just as she could respect the actions of her mother. (A good woman, it seemed. Death came for all, yes, all unburdened by the Shade, at least, though the ones that didn’t shy away from it? The ones that decided to meet it on their own terms, instead of running away? In a way, the pirate thought, they had transcended the limits of humanity-- defied the instincts that had shaped their kind for millennia, solely because they had been able to say ‘ah, yes, this is more important than I am.’ A will of steel, truly. Still, how could the turtles have been so heartless? It was a queen’s job to look after her people, to place their well-being above everything else, and to expect her to conform to a set of laws that she had never accepted as hers in the first place… ah, that struck the pirate as unfair, alright. Painfully so.)

…could she ever judge that properly, though? The turtles had their own perspective as well, and given all the secrets they were privy to, Iskra couldn’t say that their verdict hadn’t been just-- perhaps it had been needed, even, to preserve the stability of the cause-consequence paradigm. (Wasn’t that a terribly heavy burden to bear as well? Seeing so far into the future that nobody could possibly understand you, try as they might. Painting a target on your own back for some nebulous greater good, for which you yourself might never get any tangible benefit. The fruits of their success? Yeah, right, more like the ghosts of their failures, following right in their footsteps! …no, Iskra wouldn’t want to be in their place, if truth be told. Not for all the gold in the galaxy.)

“I know not whether it is a story, per se,” the pirate began, slow and cautious. “I haven’t known the extent of loss that you have suffered, after all, and I do not wish to pretend otherwise. I have never had a mother, you see? Not beyond what is required biologically, anyway. That being said, I think I understand a thing or two about justice.” Boldly, she met the queen’s gaze, and then? Then she threw all caution to the wind, letting the words fall freely from her lips. “The turtles have wronged you, I do not deny that. However, can you say that they’re the same turtles that have ordered your mother’s death? I have it on good authority that the ones we saved were but children, preyed on by a villain. If your wrath falls on their heads, can you truly say that you are better than them? Wiser than them? Even so, I sympathize with your need to punish someone. Very well, then-- I have a proposal, if you wish to hear it.”

“Do go on,” the queen pursed her lips, her face a mask. (What was she thinking? For her own well-being, Iskra was sincerely hoping that she wasn’t currently browsing her mental database of favorite torture techniques.)

“Exile them,” the pirate suggested. “You do not need to suffer their presence, but that doesn’t mean they don’t have a right to live-- especially if they were uninvolved in the original crime. What’s more, they may remember your kind gesture, and take it into account in your future dealings. Well? What do you think?”

 

[starboob]

♕ PRINCESS VERITY (EXILED) ♕​

Verity holds her breath while she waits for Iskra's answer and ultimately, Keilani's decision. This queen has proven to be unpredictable and there is no telling whether this has to do with the whimsy that exists in all children or whether from the advice she must be gaining from her own ancestors. Her gaze is still as cool as it had been when they had first been thrust into the throne room, but she seems much more like an ordinary child than before. More than that, she seems torn. After all, why else would she seek counsel from her prisoners? Verity imagines that were she already set on a decision, she only would have asked what their business is on the island and perhaps punished them for entering her airspace and beaches without proper authorization. The princess also gathers that perhaps this is custom as none of the guards around the room seem particularly surprised by this conversation. Though, of course, they are guards and she guesses they have been trained to be like statues. The advisors and priestesses would probably give her a better understanding of whether this is custom or unique to this monarch. In any cases, she supposes it doesn't matter because the queen is listening and that is something she can respect.

As Iskra talks, Verity feels her heart tug for the pirate. 'She was so young when she was recruited,' she reminds herself, knowing the pirate also has limited memories of her upbringing prior to her recruitment. She wishes she had learned how to be a child and similarly, her heart pulls for queen Keilani as well, for she likely had to grow up fast to step into her mother's role. Sure, she must have her team who support her, her people who love her, but this is no Life for a child. Absently, the princess finds herself building a fantasy for queen Keilani, one where she can have simply a day of reprieve to be a kid again. Though she doubts it would be easy for the monarch to shed her role so easily, even if just for a day or an hour. (Though this is another thing they all share, too. It's not as though Verity had an abundance of a childhood. At nine she started to care for her ever growing family and was not free of that role until she became a princess; that Life had hardly been a child's Life either.) Her hand once more reaches for Iskra's, bringing it in her lap.

"Exi––" Verity starts, but the queen's raised hand silences her immediately.

For a long moment the queen is silent. Her eyes are narrow slits and her fingers are steepled in front of her mouth. She looks at Iskra, her eyes boring into the pirate as if trying to punish her for not agreeing with her want for equal measures of blood to be spilled. Then her gaze turns to Verity and her gaze is about as warm as it had been when she looked at the captain, which is to say bone chilling. (Verity's spine stiffens in response.) Finally, after a full eternity, she speaks, "I resent both of you," (Verity grips Iskra's hand tighter.) "because I see the truth in your words and I wish you were wrong. It is brave for you both to speak against a queen's wishes, but sometimes that is what shall save a nation from its own ruination. Spilling more blood will not bring my mother back," she concedes and, here, her voice loses the echo of her ancestors and becomes her own entirely, small and youthful. "She is with the goddess now. I shall banish them and if those creatures ever show up in my lands again, I see no reason to not have them executed. Part of me prays they are defiant," she admits, "but, inexplicably, I do believe this the best course of action. Thank you both for sharing your insights with myself. The priestesses all harbor my same anger and I do not fault them, they are fallible women as we all are. However, all that being said, I cannot simply let you all go. You have trespassed and desecrated the sacred sands."

Once again, Verity grips Iskra's hand, worried over what the queen's judgment will make of them now. Before she can stop herself, she blurts out, her voice full of panic, "Your majesty, please spare the pirate and her crew––whatever your decision, it is not their fault. The idea that brought us her was my own and I take full responsibility for the weight of my actions."

"Oh?" the queen tilts her head to the side and giggles, for the first time really reflecting her age. (Verity decides she must actually be closer to nine without that mask of hers.) "You mistake me, princess. We take punishment seriously here, yes, but your crimes do not demand blood or life, rest assured. I simply demand that you clean up the beach. You are welcome to take up the task yourself, but I suspect you might need the help. Samaria can help get you the proper tools needed for this, but you shall not start until tomorrow. We only work early in the mornings to avoid the beating suns. Right now, I do believe the people are socializing and there may be a performance in the quarry. You are welcome to roam.

"And since you provided your counsel, I can discount the fuel prices to help you leave this planet. Unfortunately, I cannot give it to you for free. It's a rare resource here, I do hope you understand. If you do not have funds, I think we can arrange an alternative form of payment. In the meantime, your women will be relocated to our spare barracks and fed. Do you agree to these terms, pirate and princess?"

 

[Syntra]

It was said that, when death was about to come for you, your whole life flashed before your very eyes. And, frankly? What a ridiculous notion-- not once had it happened to Iskra, and considering how many times her heart had stopped, she considered herself something of an expert on the matter. (People, she supposed, would love a warning. A quick heads up, in other words. ‘Hey, pay attention! The thread of your life is going to be cut, so enjoy the last few moments. Take in the sweetness of the air, feel the blood coursing through your veins, say goodbye to your loved ones.’ The thing was, it didn’t work like that. Didn’t, didn’t, didn’t! Death wasn’t a duelist bound by honor, you see-- no, it was a hunter, hiding in the shadows. Warning its victims, then, would have defeated the point entirely.) So, the nature of her dilemma here? Iskra knew not whether they would be killed here, or whether Keilani would find it in her heart to forgive both them and the creatures connected to her own mother’s death. Of course, it didn’t matter that much whether she was about to die. What about Verity, though? Her princess, her guiding star? Once her light went out, no power in the universe would relight it, and… No. No, I won’t let that happen. A queen Keilani may have been, yes, as well as a mere child, but that didn’t mean she could have everything, you know? (The Holy Vessel had made that mistake, too. ‘I am above you, and thus I can demand everything.’ Technically, Iskra supposed, that had been true-- anyone could demand anything, flying high on the wings of audacity. That being said, there was no law in this galaxy that could force her to actually give in to the request, now was there? …and even if there was, Iskra wouldn’t obey. No longer could they bend her according to their will-- this marionette’s strings had snapped, and now she walked of her own free will. Give me a reason, the pirate thought, and I’ll cut you down where you stand. So what if she was a child? A child making adult decisions could expect to be treated like one! The one who ordered a sword to be swung, after all, couldn’t be short-sighted enough to think the blade couldn’t end up pressed against her neck.)

Fortunately, however? Queen Keilani had no such plans, and so Iskra could let go of the bloodstained thoughts. “I appreciate that, my queen,” she said. “It is not easy to admit such a thing to yourself, so for that, I admire you.” Truly, with her self-awareness this developed at such a young age, the queendom’s future seemed bright! (…poor, poor girl. The circumstances that had pushed to maturity had been dire, cruel and sharp like the tip of a dagger, and Iskra’s heart hurt for her. Oh well. I guess that we all carry our burdens, unequal as they may be. At least this girl shall never starve, and shall never want for anything. Aside from her own mother, of course-- there were things that gold couldn’t buy, and losses it couldn’t soothe.) “We shall never forget your kindness, too. Now, I understand that fuel doesn’t grow on trees, so we don’t mind paying for it. What are these alternative forms of payment you speak of, though? I must admit, I am curious.”

“Oh,” Keilani’s eyes lit up with a spark that seemed downright malicious, “you’ll see, princess and pirate. You’ll see.”

***

And see they did, if only because Iskra couldn’t contain her curiosity. (Besides, money didn’t grow on trees, either. They could afford to pay for the fuel, most likely, but why waste their limited funds when another option had been offered? It only made sense to take advantage, especially since their host seemed so excited about it. …or, well, it had made sense, before the queen revealed what exactly her request was.)

“Excuse me?” Iskra blinked a few times, as if trying to dispel some kind of illusion. (They were standing in the royal gardens, sunlit and beautiful, but also full of foreign scents-- some of them must have gotten into her head, surely, and tangled her thoughts into an incoherent mess. Just, there was no way she’d heard correctly, right? Absolutely no way!

“I’m sure you understood the first time around, captain Iskra,” Keilani smirked. “Tomorrow, it is my royal birthday. As you can imagine, it is a rather big deal. A feast will be held, along with various events meant to amuse me. It is in everyone’s best interest that I remain happy and content, wouldn’t you agree?” she asked, inspecting the way her painted nails shimmered in the sunlight. “But frankly, I’ve gotten bored with my celebrations recently. It’s not that I cannot appreciate my subjects’ efforts, but they are a bit monothematic, you see? It’s all just… tea parties and concerts and such. My mind craves variety at this point. Of course, this is where you come in!”

…not that Iskra couldn’t understand the sentiment, mind you, but the way she looked at them? Something about it reminded her of a cat observing a cornered mouse, and no, she didn’t like the feeling at all.

“I have decided I wish to know more about different cultures. Isolated as we are, I cannot keep pretending that we are alone in the universe-- a time will come when I hate to negotiate with others, and closing my eyes before that reality would have been incredibly foolish. So, I wish to start with the two of you. And, truly, what better way to get to know a culture than by its stories? I wish for you to perform a theater play for me! Something nice and uplifting. Something,” her eyes glinted, “romantic. I think that seeing you two wrestle with such roles would be… hmm, interesting. Re-enact such a legend for me, and you can have the rest of the fuel for free. What say you?”

 

[starboob]

♕ PRINCESS VERITY (EXILED) ♕​

Much of this little island reminds Verity of her own home, especially the beaches. While cleaning up the beach had been meant as a repayment for the initial damages caused, Verity had not minded so much. It was nice to sink her toes in the sand and have the salt air coat her skin. Now, with the triplicity hanging at their highest point above their heads, work has since stopped and she can still feel the sticky salt clinging to her skin and adding texture to her hair. The light dusting of freckles she lost with her months in space are even making a pleasant reprisal. Ah, how she misses being land bound. They rarely ever get to enjoy the sun or suns these days. 'Perhaps I ought to talk Iskra into taking vacations every now and again. Divinities knows she and her crew could benefit from a break.'

When their queen friend announces how they might pay their way off of the planet, Verity's nose is stuck in an orchid, but she isn't nearly as bothered or surprised as her confidant. As in, she doesn't need a second explanation of what they are to do and honestly? This deal nearly seems too good to be true. A story, a performance in exchange for helping them get back to their nomadic Life? The princess could conjure something in her Sleep, to be quite honest, and if it will make the little queen happy then that's all the better. Divinities known queen Keilani could use some cheer in her Life for all she has endured at her young age.

"Oh, Iskra this is not so ridiculous. Can you not see how lovely this offer is?" she asks, her voice dreamy and distant––perhaps that last orchid has gotten to her head because her eyes seem softer now, too. She links her arm with her pirate's. "Besides, we talk all the Time of our people and the stories they have passed along through the generations. It is not as though we do not have the currency. I am sure we can ask Saavika to organize the pyrotechnics, Eran has a great eye for detail that can be used for set design... Ylna can probably play a villain. Myrne would be excellent for the tech crew––really, I do believe we can pull this off rather easily." She turns her gaze towards the queen, her smile droopy and lazy, "I do admit that this is a bit short notice, so I cannot promise it will be as well executed as it could be, but I promise my heart shall be poured into this performance."

"I am sure you will not disappoint. Your story tells me you are into performance so I look forward to bearing witness to the talented princess Verity."

"You flatter me, your majesty. Though," Verity pauses a moment, wrinkling up half her face as she thinks, "Are you sure you want us to play your romantic leads? There are several in the crew who are actually romantically involved and would be far more suited to play lovers. The chemistry would be far more authentic as Iskra and are..." complicated, ill-defined, several question marks in a row, "bosom friends."

"For how much longer, though?" the queen raises a mischievous and knowing brow. "In any such case, this is what I would like to see. It is called acting, so act. Now, do excuse me. I have a full schedule to attend to and must be off, the volcanoes hate tardiness. I look forward to what you might come up with, princess and pirate."

After the queen makes her exit, Verity squeezes her pirate's arm and giggles, flopping over into some grass that is labeled, "For resting weary heads." Immediately, she sees why as it's so soft and lush, practically like a bed in its own right. She twirls some around her fingers, then looks towards Iskra, "Have you any ideas for what stories we might want to share with the queen? Obviously, for myself, the first that comes to mind is the legend of the rainbow. Or perhaps the one between the sky and sea, though that one has a rather tragic ending seeing as they do not end up together. I suppose a popular one would be of the story of queen Aurora and her famed lover, queen Celestia, but that one is so overdone," she sticks her tongue out in disgust. "You know, I am not sure you have ever told me a love story, Iskra. Do you know of any from your people? If so, should like to hear one. Perhaps we can combine stories, to give queen Keilani a taste of both our histories. Surely she already knows we are not of the same worlds and I would like us to both be represented."

The princess then reaches over for one of the hibiscus-like flowers growing on the bush towards her left and gently plucks two. She places one behind her ear and the other behind Iskra's. In the action, she looks deeply into her companion's eyes and can feel herself being pulled under those brilliant blue undercurrents. Before that can happen, however, she realizes that she's staring, clears her throat, and looks away hurriedly, almost shy. "Ah, have you any hesitancies about playing my romantic half in this re-enactment? I should not think it will be awkward," she says, talking fast enough to suggest that she is nervous. (While she already trusts Iskra like she would a lover, it's not as though they have ever talked about their relationship before and she does not know what this re-enactment will bring up. There is the idle worry that Iskra does not want to play this part as it might bring up their rather complicated past, to put it most lightly. She knows it is more or less water under the bridge, and still. To assume these roles could put them dangerously close to that Time again; it's one thing to move on, it's another to potentially dip their toes back into those bloodied waters. Even if just acting.) "I, ah, just hope the idea does not make you uncomfortable, my dandy lion."

 

[Syntra]

Lovely. Lovely! Not exactly an adjective Iskra would have chosen, to be sure-- ‘terrifying’ or ‘odd’ would have been more up her valley, with ‘nosy’ being the next strongest contender. (What was it that people seemed to enjoy forcing them into these situations? Did she have ‘please, ship me with Verity’ written on her forehead? Because Iskra did not remember getting such a tattoo, thank you very much. …ah, damn, how awkward this was! She herself hadn’t decided what they were yet, really, and yet everyone around them seemed hellbent on making them accept these… these strange labels. Could they not simply exist, unburdened by the weight of that which remained unspoken? Could they not occupy that lovely vagueness forever? The stars didn’t need name for themselves, either-- women had named them for their own convenience, yes, but even without those, they would have shone just as brightly.) “I don’t know, Verity,” she whined. “I am not an actor. Your performance might bring others to tears, but what about me? What if my presence alone destroys all your efforts? I’d hate that. I don’t want to be the reason behind--”

“Oh,” Keilani smirked, in that particular way that the captain had learned to hate, “I am certain that that will be the least of your problems, pirate. I have an inkling that you shall be most convincing in your role. Or are you underestimating my abilities, perhaps?”

…can she also see the future now? That wasn’t something Iskra had been aware of, mind you, but that she shouldn’t kick the hornet’s nest was a fact of life that she had learned very, very quickly. “No,” she sighed, before rubbing her forehead. “I am not. I wouldn’t dare, my queen. Nevertheless, I will only do it on one condition-- if my performance does end up being unsatisfactory, you will still let us have the fuel. Just… just a safety measure, let’s say.”

“Sure, I can promise that,” the young queen clapped. “Still, I can sense that you are a diamond in the rough, pirate. There will be… hmm, a lot of enjoyment to be derived from your hidden talents.” …hidden talents? More like from her failings, undoubtedly! How could she, after all, know how to portray love? Her heart was dark and shriveled, like a flower that had never been watered, and obviously, a plant like that could never bloom. Never! (Still, the queen had made her decision, Iskra supposed. Who was she to override it? If Keilani yearned for disappointment, then she was free to sup on it-- shielding her from the consequences of her choices wasn’t her job, after all. No, the young queen had to learn to deal with them on her own.) “As you wish,” she muttered. “I will try my best, then.” The problem with her best, though? Ah, it was probably everyone else’s worst! Her hands had been made to destroy, not to caress, and the gap between the two could obviously never be bridged. The concepts were just too different-- the moon versus the sun, fire versus water, life versus death.

Verity, however? Verity, her sweet princess, seemed to think differently. In a tone so casual it verged on heartbreaking, she started asking her all those questions, and… ah, had she just put a flower in her hair? Immediately, Iskra’s skin tone rivaled that of a tomato. “I, um, thank you? And we do have love stories, of course. They just didn’t strike me as that important to share, in the context of everything else. Not that there’s anything wrong with them, but… I guess the topic just doesn’t come to me naturally?” Because everything revolving around love made her nervous, nervous, nervous-- as if she was trying to barge her way where she wasn’t wanted, really. Where she wasn’t allowed, to be precise. The princess’s consideration in the face of all of that, though? Ah, that made a world of difference, and the iron fist that was crushing her lungs seemed to let go, just a little bit. “Well, it does make me a little bit uncomfortable, I suppose,” she admitted, instead of sugarcoating it. “Not terribly so, however. I couldn’t see myself doing it with anyone else, but I feel safe with you, Verity, and so I don’t think it will be that bad. Stepping out of your comfort zone had never killed anyone, had it? And the money that we will be able to save is a strong motivation, I have to say.” Hmm, hmm. What kind of legend should she pick, though? Her people had a tendency towards sad stories-- love persevering in face of separation was seen as more mature, more finalized, than day-to-day bliss. Still, perhaps that could work? They were about to alter the story, you see, so maybe, maybe giving the protagonists their happy ending could be the personal touch that Verity craved so.

“Have you ever heard of the story of Erlsta and Ryn?” the pirate asked, hesitant. “Theirs was love that transcended time itself, and the will of the gods as well. Erlsta was created as a flower-- a rose, her petals white and shimmering. Ryn was a woman, and breathtakingly beautiful one as well. So fair her face was, indeed, that she had to wear a veil at all times, for one glance was all it took for you to fall in love with her. That was something that Ryn resented, believe it or not. More than a blessing, she viewed it as a curse. How could she connect with anyone, after all, if everyone jumped straight to the offers of marriage? Besides, Ryn was already promised to another. Helaena, a goddess of shadows, happened to look at her as well, and fell in love with the mortal. And, really, you can’t very well refuse a goddess’s offer, now can you? Ryn’s family agreed to the union, and only asked Helaena to wait till she was able to paint her masterpiece. Ryn was a painter, you see, and in the heavenly realm, her hands would not be able to touch anything that belonged to the earth. Can you guess what subject she chose? Why, yes, that one perfect white rose! To her, Ryn entrusted all of her worries and fears, every doubt that hatched in her head, and… it was too much for a mere rose to bear, I suppose, for she withered. Ryn cried bitter tears over that, of course. What she didn’t expect, though, was for those tears to revive her; neither did she expect that she’d be reborn as a woman. A woman that understood her, and loved her for who she was.”

“Of course,” Iskra smiled sadly, “it didn’t end well. The two shared a passionate night together, but after that, Ryn was married to Helaena. She never forgot about her, and in fact became a patron of roses, but Erlsta died of grief. Nobody was able to help her.”

 

[starboob]

♕ PRINCESS VERITY (EXILED) ♕​

If Verity ever tires of seeing Iskra's skin bloom under her casual affections, do be sure to call a doctor for that will certainly meant that the princess is unwell. She has always taken pleasure in these reactions. Though, when they first met she had been suspect of them and perhaps had wanted to see just how far she could take Iskra given her... presumed interest, she now enjoys them simply for what they are: absolutely unequivocally adorable. "Iskra, I think if you simply go on stage as yourself going by some other name, you will do just fine. You have a natural charm, if I am to be honest," she says, oh so casually as she pushes another flower into her nose, remembering the first flower that Iskra had ever given to her. (Ah, if only Time had not taken that flower away from her. ...Not that she had not gone out of her way to dry it and preserve its corpse, mind you. It actually hangs on her vanity.)

In any case, most already see them as a couple waiting to happen, so it should not be too hard to don the role in front of an audience––as invasive as it is to make a show of what they, or at least Verity, feels. Still, the audience is not privy to even half the truth and are feasting on scraps. 'Fine, let's throw them more, but nothing will change what we know, my darling pirate.' "I promise, we shall not do anything on that stage that we haven't done before and we will not give all those hungry eyes more just because they refuse to listen to a romance file or seek out a matchmaker for themselves. We shall be the selves we always are in front of others and that ought to convince them enough––seeing as it already has," she jokes.

"I am surprised to hear you say you think love stories would not have been as important as the others!" Verity exclaims, suddenly shooting up from her lounging position in the grass, looking entirely scandalized. However, there is no need for Iskra to worry as it's mostly her usual theatrics. It somewhat does not come as a surprise that Iskra would not, at first, think to share those stories. She has always seemed to gravitate towards the ones that explained how her planet came to be the way it is (or was, now that Verity understands something happened during Iskra's short reign that brought the lands to ash). "These stories tell as much about a culture as any other... and I rather adore them," she admits, grinning at the pirate and settling once more in the grass to listen to the tale that her pirate has selected. By the end of the story, Verity has a tear in her eye and her hand over her heart.

"Beautifully tragic, I must say," she mutters, wiping away the tears yet to fall. "We will certainly need to workshop a different ending in order for it to meet the uplifting requirement that queen Keilani has requested." And, unsurprisingly, Verity already has an idea. She continues, "I think it makes sense to use the story of Amaryllis and Iris what with their namesakes being flowers. I'm thinking, hmm," she taps her chin trying to think of how to articulate her idea, "I like the way Ryn is as she is––a beautiful maiden who wishes to be loved for her mind and I like that her tears brought her one true love to Life. Perhaps, in this version of events Erlsta is Iris. When Iris is sprung to Life, rather than just sharing that single night together, what if they continue to meet and have a tryst, an illicit affair, what have you? Helaena discovers this, because of course there must be some drama, and Iris is made to duel the goddess of shadows. Not great prospects for a woman once a flower, but she has Ryn on her side who reveals Helaena's weakness: light. Specifically, light cast from a prism. However, their battle is set at night to advantage the goddess and their plan becomes rather useless. When all seems lost and it seems as though Iris will be slain, Ryn, unable to bear the prospect of losing her one true love, steps in. She casts her veil to the side and her Beauty, so radiant it is, that it reflects off the prism in Iris's hand and Helaena is then defeated. Now, because Ryn broke the rules of the duel with her interference the other gods in the pantheon are upset as they do not like being made a fool by mere mortals so..." she pauses, brows knit together, "Well, I admit that is as far as I have gotten, I suppose. What do you think? How should it end? It must be happy, but this ought to be believable in the context of the narrative."

"Also, which role would you prefer? Though it makes sense for you to be Ryn and myself Iris..." she trails off, letting the blanks fill themselves in, because while it does seem as though they should take on the roles of their people, it does not quite fit who they are naturally. Though, it could be interesting to be subversive and unexpected, she supposes. She'll let Iskra decide, however, as she wants the pirate to feel most comfortable with her role.

 

[Syntra]

…ah. Was the princess attempting to kill her? Because the effortless compliments that were falling from her lips were almost enough to make her choke! (Of course, Iskra had gotten used to Verity being… hmm, somewhat liberal with her affections. Much like stars shone for everyone, without expecting anything in return, she, too, gave away her gifts with the same air of selflessness. That was a part of what made her so popular, the pirate supposed. Still, wasn’t that a little too much? A little suspicious, even? Not that she was an expert at friendship, mind you, but Iskra had never heard her compliment the other crew members in such an intimate way, and… uh. Well, let’s say that her mind was more than happy to run with all the delicious, delicious implications.) “A natural charm?” she raised her eyebrow. “Are you implying that I am charming, then?” Because that word was only ever used in one context, as far as the captain knew, and… ah, by the Shade! How could she have been so audacious as to ask such a question directly? Had all the sweets Keilani had insisted on feeding them rotted her brain? “N-no, I’m sorry,” she apologized, quickly glancing away. “I don’t know what’s gotten into me. I may be tired, I suppose-- the last few days have been rather intense, so to speak. I cannot wait to rest for a change.” Yes, in her bed! …or maybe in Verity’s bed, just like that one time before. The princess had been warm and soft, and willing, so, so willing wrap her in her arms, which--ah! That definitely had to be brain rot, Iskra was convinced now. Once they were sailing the skies once again, safely aboard of Inure, she would have to see Myrne for a thorough check-up.

“That does bring me some peace,” Iskra admitted. “I am not comfortable doing all those… things,” she settled on, hoping that the princess would decipher the vagueness somehow. (Phrasing it like that wasn’t exactly descriptive, you see? And yet, yet the hesitation said more than any words possibly could, especially when accompanied by the furious blushing! How words could act as an obstacle in communication, despite being invented for that reason specifically, sure was an interesting topic-- one that the pirate probably would have pondered over, if she hadn’t been too busy trying not to, you know, die.) “I appreciate it, by the way. You being so open regarding…” she waved her hand, “…regarding how things are going to be. Uncertainty is the worst poison, I think.” Well, uncertainty, and also whatever drugs that queen Keilani must have ingested to make her think this was a good idea, but Iskra felt that bringing that up would not have been received with joy.

“I am not saying that they aren’t important,” the pirate all but whispered. “I just… I may not have felt that it was my place to share a story like that, really. They do carry important messages, I’m sure, but how could I ever hope to interpret them correctly? I mean, you wouldn’t ask a mole about the secrets of the ocean, or the caterpillar about conquering the galaxy. Besides, you were my prisoner back then,” Iskra reminded her. “It didn’t even cross my mind to speak of such things, and then…” …then Verity had killed her, right in the middle of that accursed kiss. Oh well. No need to dig up the ghosts of the past, right? Dissecting the scene over and over wouldn’t help anyone, least of all her. (It had happened already, for better or worse. Expecting anything to change about her feelings would have been like staring at a photograph, and hoping to see a different scene to the one you’d seen three months ago.)

Still, Verity’s version of the legend? It brought a rare smile to her lips, and her imagination raced wild. “A master storyteller, aren’t you?” Iskra smiled. “No wonder that your performances were able to grip the hearts of so many.” …which, of course, only made it harder for her to think of a fitting ending. (What if she failed? What if the artless direction her mind took destroyed the impression, in the same way you couldn’t just ignore a fly in your soup? What if, what if, what if? The familiar anxiety returned, wrapping its fingers around her throat, but… No. No, I cannot think like that. Verity liked the way she thought, the pirate didn’t doubt it, and so what if the story didn’t meet some imaginary standards? Queen Keilani had taken that risk upon herself, and so it was her own cross to bear.) “I believe there should be consequences,” she finally said, before rubbing her chin thoughtfully. “I do not want to rob them of their happy ending, but there should be a certain weight to everything-- to the circumstances that brought them together, and to the punishment that will follow Helaena’s death. It… makes the conclusion feel more believable? Something like that, I think.” So, in terms of symbolism, what did they have? A woman and a flower, along with a love as vast as it was star-crossed. A sense of doom, yes, but also a hope, much like knowing that spring would come even after the cruelest of winters. “I think I know. What if the goddesses cursed Iris, and she had to revert back to her flowery form? Except that Ryn, who would be a goddess herself by that point, would be able to break the curse-- partially, anyway. Each year, they would be allowed to spend spring together before facing their punishment once again. What do you think?” Iskra looked up to Verity, her gaze expectant. “A-and do you think I would be a good fit for Ryn? I mean, thematically, it might check out, but… ah, I think you’re much more beautiful,“ the pirate admitted, her cheeks burning. “Much more striking. The audience would have an easier time believing the story.”

 

[starboob]

♕ PRINCESS VERITY (EXILED) ♕​

"No need to apologize, my sweet. Of course I am suggesting you are charming. You may have been a soldier, but I think you're more like one of those devilishly handsome knights who know battle and charm like the back of your hand," she smiles sweetly, innocently, as if she is completely unaware of Iskra's clear turmoil over the shower of compliments. (Some playful, mischievous part of her wants to see how much more praise her companion can take before she surely explodes, but she also knows better than to push Iskra too far past her comfort zone. She doesn't want to come off as though she is teasing the captain as it is important to her that Iskra realizes this is Verity's truth; that this is her perception of the woman who has changed her Life.) She sighs and leans against the pirate, completely content. "Rest will come soon enough. We merely have to finish this little task and we shall be off amongst the stars again. I do wonder where we might end up next––there is still so, so much that I have not seen and have yet to experience. It's almost overwhelming to think about, but then I remember I simply have my entire Life to explore. I feel rather lucky that I have such a knowledgeable companion to help me fulfill this wish of my heart." (She ignores the reminder that Iskra's Life is to be cut short and neither really have a clue as to when that will happen.)

As Iskra finishes the rest of their story, she closes her eyes and pictures it for herself in her head, grinning the entire Time. Yes, it is not a perfect ending for their two lovers, but it has enough sweetness in it for an audience to appreciate it. There's a sense of hopefulness even if Ryn and Iris will not be able to spend all of their days together, they at least have their spring and can always look forward to that. (She wonders how queen Keilani will receive the ending; if she will remember hope and if she will take to that message. She is rather young, and Verity does not want to discredit her ability to understand––she's already proven to be rather complex for someone who is more than half her junior.) She takes Iskra's hand in her own and strokes her knuckles with her thumb, "That is an ending that is most fitting for their situation. I do think the audience will be satisfied by it. It seems that, perhaps, you are more like a woman who knows a thing or two about a good love story than those moles might know about the depths of the ocean," she says, making a gentle suggestion that Iskra may have more in common with a lover than her earlier statement implied––and perhaps she isn't a lover, but she does know how to tie together a good love story.

While Verity has heard plenty of Times that she is Beautiful, there is something different about how her heart hears it when it comes from Iskra. 'Even with my scars, she still thinks I'm striking.' Her cheeks color, but she doesn't hide her face and instead looks directly at Iskra with a wide grin. "You do yourself no Justice, my pirate, for I recognized a Beautiful woman when we first met," a Beautiful and dangerous woman, mind you, but Verity sees no reason to make that distinction. "I think you will make a believable Ryn and I shall be your Iris."

.............
​

With their roles chosen and their story settled, they immediately get to work organizing the rest of the performance as the gracious queen had not exactly given them ample Time to prepare. By the evening of the performance, after an entire day of celebrating the little queen, Verity is rather nervous how their entertainment to her will compare to the plethora of other performances and gifts. In her opinion, their set-up is a rather crude imitation of what she had initially imagined––though it reality, it truly is not bad at all––so she is not confident it will please Keilani. 'Thank the Divinities Iskra thought to secure the fuel in an exchange for our honest efforts.'

The curtains open, the play starts, and before Verity even realizes it, the performance is over. It mostly had gone without a hitch––the only real issue had been nudging Saavika to shine the lights down on Iskra when she was meant to lift her veil to defeat Helaena (portrayed by Ylna, interestingly enough). Though other than that, she is rather pleased they pulled it off and more so that it is over. As excited as she had been for it, it had been rather nerve wracking to play the part of Iskra's love interest. Partially because it brought up doubts over their affections and she finds herself comparing the performance––where they must have been rather convincing as she caught several audience members (including the little queen) with misty eyes by the end of it––to how they are in actuality. Obviously, they had drummed up quite a bit for the show and, to be honest, there were several moments were Verity found herself in a trance with the pirate in front of her and had to be reminded that the curtain had been pulled for scene changes. It's agonizing wondering how much was fake and how much was real, her heart cannot take it. (Her lips even ache for a kiss, but she fought the urge several Times because she promised Iskra they would not do anything they had not yet already done and Iskra expressed reservations about being so open on a stage. And, no, Verity does not really count their first kiss as authentic. It had been a kiss in an extremely anatomical sense.)

After the show, the little queen's party continues with a feast where all are invited to celebrate, gorge on food, and drink themselves stupid. (Well, save for the queen who could probably get away with underage drinking, but remains abstinent.) Speaking of this queen, she walks over to the pair with a wide grin on her face, "I told you, captain Iskra, that there was nothing to fret over. I found myself wildly convinced of your affections. I must say, it's interesting how similar you both were on the stage as off."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Verity asks, brow raised to her hairline though there is an odd hopefulness in her tone as well.

"I am very well sure you know what I mean, princess," she smiles innocently, "Anyway, I was rather pleased with the performance. The ending was a bit bitter and somehow that made it all the more sweeter. I do believe you have held your end of our bargain. First thing in the morning, your ship shall be refueled and the turtles," Keilani practically spits the word, "shall be returned to your care to start their exile. Do enjoy the festivities and... do say goodbye before you leave. I shall have fond memories of this odd duo that helped open my eyes to a different perspective."

 

[Syntra]

Throughout the performance, fear had been her faithful companion. What if she messed up? What if she forgot her lines? What if, despite Verity's reassurances, she failed to convey the feelings properly? Grass didn't grow on salted earth, after all, and that was what Iskra was-- broken so thoroughly, so many times, that the bones had reconnected all wrong, in places that had never been meant to be connected. How did you even begin to repair a damage like that, huh? How could you hope to do it? (Hope was a luxury, too. A privilege belonging to a woman who could close her eyes at night, and say with 99% certainty that, yes, she would get to open them next day. Iskra, though? Iskra knew not when the Shade would come for her, bursting forth-- emerging from her, really, as if she was just old clothes to be discarded.) Still, somehow, the performance was a success! The pirate herself wouldn't have dared to judge it, but the audience had done it for her, and it wasn't up to her to question her reactions. No, not at all. (At the end, when the actors bowed, the cheering crowd demanded them to stay longer-- a shy smile graced her lips then, rare like the first flowers after a long winter. Was that why Verity enjoyed her trade so much? Bringing joy to people, the pirate had to admit, was rather... well, intoxicating. Fulfilling, in a way she hadn't experienced before. Ah, how foolish she had been before, to claim words only served to convey information! Past Iskra had deserved all the lessons the princess had given to her, and many more.)

"I know not what you mean," Iskra shrugged, "but I am happy that you enjoyed the play, my queen. I hope we shall meet in the future as well-- rough as its start may have been, I have come to enjoy our friendship." ...was she being presumptuous here? Were they friends, even? Verity's audacity must have been infectious, truly! (Regardless of that, Iskra realized that she didn't exactly hate it. The element of unpredictability was thrilling-- letting your mind run free, without the restrictions placed on it by others, had introduced... hmm, a new flavor into her life. Something that had previously been locked away, in some hidden part of her. And, really, what was life, if not trying new things? Braving the unknown, in the same way their foremothers once had? Recording your discoveries for the future generations, then, was the path to true immortality! ...not like the mangled version Iskra had, now that she thought of it. The Shade was a ball and chain, barbed wire that always pressed itself deeper, deeper, deeper into her skin, and... and she didn't want it, she understood. Had never wanted it, except that they hadn't exactly asked her. Oh well!)

As always, Inure welcomed them back with open arms, and then they were sailing again. (Why was it that Iskra found it so calming? Women all over the galaxy were devoted to a single place, the one they called home, but to her... well, not being bound to a piece of land she could call hers was comforting, really. Give me wings, she thought, over shackles. I'd choose the former every single time.) "Look, Verity," Iskra pointed towards the sky above one day, when they were taking a break from their duties. "This is the constellation I've been yearning to show you for the longest time. It's... important, to me. We call it The Maidens." And, indeed, it wasn't hard to guess why-- when you squinted, you could see two women dancing with one another, with their skirts made out of pink star fog. (So, so brightly it gleamed! Like the hope that had settled in Iskra's heart, almost against her will. Perhaps she should squish it, then? For if she kept it alive, it would grow, grow, grow, and in time, the roots would strangle her.)

"Verity," she turned to her companion, and grabbed her hands in hers. "What does this make you think of? I wish to know your mind, even when it comes to fleeting associations. I wish to know everything there is to know, and even more. You see, I have been wondering, for such a long time, whether... whether..." Ah, damn it. Why hadn't she rehearsed the speech before? The uncertainty was killing her, driving a spear through her chest, and yet, yet Iskra couldn't find the right words! ...wouldn't find them, even, because something else captured her attention in that moment. "Verity," she gasped, shocked. "Can you see?" With a shaky finger, the pirate pointed forward, and, indeed-- one of the celestial maidens was bleeding dark mist, something akin to an arrow stuck in her side. "This... this wasn't a part of the constellation before. What do you think could have happened?" As far as Iskra knew, stars didn't change this drastically, and the transformation that had taken place here seemed especially foreboding. (Could this be a warning, perhaps? A warning whispered to them by the great ancestors? Not that she didn't appreciate it, mind you, but the nature of it disturbed the pirate deeply! ...although not as deeply as when the hurt maiden spoke, sending chills down her spine.)

'Ah, pirate and princess,' she said, both saying the words and... well, not doing that. Somehow, however, her voice reached their ears, and Iskra could only think of how much it resembled a waterfall, cascading down upon rocks. 'Don't look at me, in my greatest moment of shame. The Huntress has marked me, and now I'm about to perish! What a pitiful ending-- and, what's worse, my partner shall remain all alone for the rest of the eternity. Unless...' her tone gained a hopeful flavor, '...unless one of you is willing to take my place?'

 

[starboob]

♕ PRINCESS VERITY (EXILED) ♕​

As much as Verity had missed the land, she had missed the stars and being among them as well. In a way, she has come to think of Inure and all the places this faithful ship will take her as her home. It does feel sacrilegious to have such feelings, being a princess who swore an oath to one country, but it feels right all the same. She cannot deny that. And... well, when she digs a little deeper, perhaps her new home has something more to do with a pirate she met than the ship belonging to her ancestors. (If she were ever so bold as to admit that. At this point, there is no denying where her heart lies and who it rests with, but it still feels presumptuous to speak such a claim when nothing has been made official. It's just one of those secrets she has with herself, she supposes.) Truly, she never thought she'd open up to Iskra in the way that she has, but the pirate made it impossible for her to not come so thoroughly undone in her presence. Meeting the fearsome captain Iskra had been a moment of clarity, like all the mysteries of the universe coming together at once.

Still, even with that clarity, she has not a clue where she truly and absolutely stands in the pirate's heart. She has made guesses and there are some rather obvious clues, but she knows not what they mean completely. After all, this is Iskra. The woman believes herself dead and all these moments where Life springs forth from her seem to come as a shock to her system. She honestly wonders if Iskra even knows how she feels about their situation. (Ah, she realizes she'll have to be forward if she wants those answers and the prospect of rejection frightens her immeasurably. Never has another woman meant so much to her!)

So while they're stretching their legs, having spent much of the day cooped up behind necessary documents and inventory, she wrestles with herself as she tries to find the courage to scream the words of her heart. Every other minute she feels herself start to get the nerve only for it to run away again. So she settles for just enjoying the vagueness, having given up on trying to broach this subject. 'Ah, maybe tomorrow...' she muses, trying to ignore, as she always does, that Iskra's tomorrows are less a guarantee than her own. Her head turns up towards the constellation, then back down towards all the other pinpricks in the sky, trying to see if she can spot Iskra's home from here. (She assumes this is a constellation her pirate may have grown up admiring.) Eventually, her gaze returns towards those misty, galactic pink skirts and the skeleton of stars that make up the two women. Her eyes seem to melt a little, shimmering under the shine, and she smiles. Without taking her gaze off The Maidens, she gasps, "An everlasting painting––"

However, when the pirate grasps her hands, her cheeks color, and she finally tears her gaze away from The Maidens to look at her companion (a friend she somehow knows she'll have for Life). The intensity of her pirate's words completely capture the princess, she can feel her heart stampeding wildly in her chest like a herd of wildebeests, and she's trying to hold herself together so that she can actually focus on what Iskra is actually saying. "Whether...?" she asks, nearly whispering it and she is not certain she has actually spoken at all. It's as though she is at a cliff's edge just waiting to jump over the precipice to find her answers she has been looking for and... and...

The moment is crumpled and tossed to the side. Reluctantly, with all her hopes having been dashed, she follows Iskra's finger back towards The Maidens. Her brow crinkles together, wondering how she could have missed that only a second or so ago. (She forgives the interruption, silently, as this does seem like a rather important mystery to unravel. She promises, too, to return to this conversation the second this is solved.) "I... I am not sure, Iskra. It takes eons for skies to form and even longer for them to transform so I am not..." sure, would have been the end to that sentence before one maiden interrupts them, speaking in some way Verity has never experienced before and she has talked to ghosts. Startled, she grabs Iskra's hand and clutches it for a source of courage as she faces the still maiden, bleeding an odd celestial mist.

"You want one of us to..." she hesitates, not really needing further explanation because it is rather obvious what she wants. Where Verity may have wished, and still does wish, to become a star at the very least or an immortal constellation with a tale that survives generations, this is not exactly the way she wants it to happen. She does not want to take the place of another constellation. She does not want to do it if the pirate is not to be her partner. "Dear maiden, my heart is with your plight. My heart aches for your partner, but what you ask is far more than either of us can give. I mean not to speak for my companion, but I don't think this is a sacrifice that we can make."

"Ah," the constellation does not frown, but Verity can hear it in her voice nonetheless, "so you shall let The Maidens perish and turn our memory to Mourning? I knew... I knew it had been a risk to ask. Please do be on your way then, for I shall only become uglier the longer this goes on."

"Wait," Verity starts, unsure what she is about to commit them to, "is this truly perilous? Is there not another way to save you and your partner from such a fate? Surely, your companion wants to preserve you rather than take a replacement?"

"The Huntress has marked me, as I said before. There is no escaping her mark. She takes what she wants and she gets what she wants. Our happiness is hers now. Forgive me, but while I am familiar with some tales of your deeds, you both are mere mortals. Even the Shade may not protect you," she says pointedly towards the captain, "from the Huntress. I would not send you off on such a quest."

At that Verity looks at Iskra, single arched, as if asking, 'What say you, captain?' because she may have taken the maiden's words as a challenge and she may or may not be interested in meeting this Huntress.

 

[Syntra]

Many years ago, when she hadn't even been a Seed, but a mere Seedling, The Maidens had filled her heart with hope. (Well, alright, perhaps not with hope exactly, though Iskra had liked looking up at them-- somehow, their existence had confirmed to her, time and time again, that there were things stronger than hatred, and kinder than the tip of a sword. Those things hadn't been meant for her, quite clearly, but so what? They existed, so maybe, just maybe it wouldn't be so terrible, to bleed so that others could enjoy them. ...sacrifice was a gift, you know? And, like with all gifts, parting with it was that much more blissful when you could see that your efforts were valued-- that the recipient accepted it with tears of gratitude in their eyes, not with cold indifference. Wanting to matter, Iskra supposed, was humanity's eternal curse.) Still, despite all those times she'd looked at The Maidens with fondness, the request made her feel... well, antsy. Disappointed, perhaps.

"I apologize, most fair of maidens, but that I cannot do," she shook her head, sad but firm. "You should never ask your friend to bear the burden meant for you alone. If loneliness is your companion's destiny, then I'm afraid she has to deal with it. How is it fair, after all, to shield one from solitude, only to cast its shade over another? No, you cannot have my princess." Yes, her princess-- Iskra hadn't yet examined what that meant exactly, but the shape of the word tasted right on her tongue, so that was what she went with. Her, her, her! (Ah, how sweet it was, to say that aloud without hiding behind fancy synonyms. In a way, the pirate knew, Verity would always be hers-- even if she decided to leave now, the imprint she'd left in her soul would stay, forevermore. The thought was... comforting, somewhat. In that moment, at least, Iskra knew that not even the Shade could take this one thing away from her.) "And you cannot have me, either. I have only recently found myself, so I am hesitant to throw that away. Surely, you understand."

'Understand I do,' the maiden sighed, 'though you, in turn, must understand the weight of my disappointment. Again, I do not hate you for your choice. Despite that, however, I ask you to leave me to my grief. As it is, I cannot stand to look at you!'

...which, yes, Iskra could sympathize with that desire, too. How not? It was hard to lick your wounds when others were watching, and she couldn't even imagine how terrible it must have been, to have to soothe your partner's pain over your inevitable demise. (Well, alright, she could. Way too vividly for her own comfort, even. Certain parallels just couldn't be ignored, now could they? ...maybe that was why she suddenly felt a queer kinship with the stars, silly as it was.) "Mortal we may be," Iskra said, "but that is an advantage. Our senses are sharper, our minds more vigilant, because they have to be. True immortality is but an obstacle-- that which will prevent you from grasping anything meaningful." And, yes, the pirate knew what she was talking about! A small sample was all she'd ever gotten, and yet, yet Iskra could feel its effects already-- the way laziness had gripped her, for she knew everything would be fine, no matter what. The feeling of growing... hmm, complacent? (It had been Verity who had pulled her out of that abyss, whether she knew about it or not. Verity, with her pointed questions and kindness that had made her heart sing. ...both were valuable, even if her eyes couldn't always see it. With the benefit of hindsight, though? Ah, the truth of it was downright dazzling!)

"I will not say that we will help. I just... cannot promise that to you, bright star. If you tell us all there is to know, though? We will be able to decide then, and perhaps we will lend you a hand." (Yes, that was right! No longer was Iskra bound by any oaths, and so she refused to rush into a new one-- that would have been akin to wrapping chains around her own hands, really. Besides, this would affect Verity as well, wouldn't it? The princess had the right to voice her opinion before tying herself to a cause, much like Iskra herself did. No, they wouldn't be anyone's pawns in a twisted game that they didn't understand! ...for that, they were too precious. Both of them, as Verity had taught her.)

'Very well, then,' the maiden stated, after a moment of deliberation. 'I suppose I cannot deny you this knowledge-- I did ask much of you, after all. The Huntress is a goddess, my children. A jealous, vengeful goddess, whose lover was slain. Through no fault of her own it happened, that much is true, but, ah, if only she learned how to let her spirit go! Alas, she cannot, for perseverance is her curse. A true huntress never loses trace of her prey, and that goes doubly for The Huntress. She keeps her lover's soul chained to herself, and each night, she rides through the skies on her ghostly chariot-- she rides, oh yes, and terror follows in her footsteps. She only targets couples, too. Why does she do this thing? I can only guess, princess and pirate, but I believe she may be trying to... resurrect her love with the victims' essence. Do you still think you can stop someone like that, who knows both fury and love? Both cruelty and kindness? Be careful, princess and pirate, for if you draw her attention, she will hunt you, too. Till the end of your days. Do you think you can escape shadows themselves? Then you're wrong, for they're tied to your very figures-- in the same way The Huntress will be, if you let her. Oh, she'll find great delight in it, I'm certain.'

 

[starboob]

♕ PRINCESS VERITY (EXILED) ♕​

It is entirely plausible that the minute Iskra claimed the princess as hers, that her brain stopped working and processing information for a full three minutes. Such a small word, such a small slip, and yet it is everything to Verity. She squeezes the pirate's hand tighter, as if to say, Yes, I am yours. She pulls her attention away from the conversation and looks at the woman who her heart happily belongs to and does not even think that Iskra had made a mistake. She doesn't necessarily believe that the admission had been on purpose, mind you, but she knows there had been a certain truth behind it for her pirate is dreadfully and nearly tragically honest (or was, until she meant a princess who taught her the benefit of hiding that honor). Now more than ever, she wishes she had mastered the secrets of Time so that she may have more with Iskra––or even so that she can take them back to a few minutes ago when Iskra had almost said something, because now she must know what that secret is.

After a short Time, she realizes there is still a conversation happening around her and tears her eyes away from her Beautiful pirate, with much reluctance, too, but it is good that she does. For in the moment that she returns to the present, the maiden is sharing the story of the goddess, the Huntress, who has marked and claimed her. Instantly, she recognizes that the Huntress is no villain. She is a victim and her heart has been stricken with sick Grief that could only ever inspire a goddess to this particular brand of madness. (How can she not see herself in the Huntress? Cruel and cold as she may be now, she has been sewn up with the same threads that have stitched together Verity's wounds. She knows, even with the terrible, terrible risk of losing the pirate, that they must seek out the Huntress to put an end to this sickness that surely has made her pale beyond recognition. Maybe, there is the absent hope in the princess that in this quest she may learn how to overcome her own Grief when her pirate is wrenched from her fingers. Or perhaps she hopes to see a warning of what she may become and learn how to avoid such a fate. Ah, the latter is likely more accurate. She can only ignore it for seconds each day that Iskra is not forever despite her heart being so set on this woman. This woman with an odd number of days. This woman who she has had die in her arms twice. She'd split her essence with Iskra if that meant she could be free of her Shade and have more Time with her, even if it meant they both live shortened lives. She'd rather have a short Life with Iskra than a long Life without her. Besides, she's already done so much in her short Life that length really matters not when measuring fulfillment.)

"How might we find her?" the princess blurts out, then immediately shooting an apologetic look over to Iskra for implicitly committing them to a task they may not both agree to. So quickly, she adds, "Were we to agree this, that is... I am curious I suppose."

"You wish to locate the Huntress?" the maiden asks, her voice bemused and it is even complemented by an airy laugh––one that suggests she knew what joy was once and now it is but a ghost. "Princess, she is a huntress, the Huntress. You do not track her, she will find you. Her territory ranges from here to wherever she is worshipped," the maiden, somehow, communicates a vague gesture through her tone alone. (Verity had not thought that possible.) "If you wish to summon her, you merely have to act the bait. Myself and my partner were sitting ducks, being what we are... it was only a matter time."

At this the maiden's voice starts to get watery and Verity can tell that she is on the verge of tears. Out of politeness, she turns away from the constellation and looks at Iskra––first examining the curve of her cheek, the edge of her jaw, the sculpt of her brow, on and on. "I..." she starts, brow furrowing together. "It almost seems we should retreat, my pirate," she admits, barely even saying the words as they are tinged with so much shame. (She is brave, she knows this. She can be careless, she is most familiar with this. She has a bleeding heart, many have recognized this. She doesn't mean to dangle hope in front of the maiden, The Maidens, just to take it away so cruelly. Though admittedly? She is torn. There is both the want to help and the want to flee. If the Huntress shall chase them for the end of their days (Iskra's days, really) and never leave them peace, it seems smartest to run. She has not much shame in being a coward, she has run before. Still, it seems cruel to run and leave this maiden dying and leave her partner mourning. Yet even agreeing to reason with the Huntress does not mean they will be able to save The Maidens. In fact, they may only succeed in painting a new target on their backs. Is it so selfish to say no? Is selfishness not important to self-preservation as well?) "That being said," she continues after a long pause, "I know The Maidens mean a great deal to you. In that, they mean a great deal to me as well. If you wish it, I will take your hand and go bravely forward as there is no place you shall ever venture where I will not follow, my dandy lion."

"Oh, well that will do it," murmurs the maiden in the background.

Before Verity can even process that the maiden has spoken or even realized what exactly is happening, she feels Inure shake beneath her feet. The terrain around them shifts rapidly and all Verity can do is grab onto Iskra so that they are not separated. The ship that is their home disappears beneath them and wisps of cosmic grass sprout around them. An entire cosmic forest, actually, blooms. All of it is made of night and stars, blending together in a way that almost makes it appear they are floating through space. It's hard to distinguish everything from each other.

From a distance, the princess can make out two bright stars coming closer to them. Though her eyes widen and she grabs her pirate once more, trying to pull them to safety when she realizes those two stars are eyes and their beholder is on a chariot pulled by horses made of half flesh, half bone, and their rider has her arrows pointed towards them. Arrows shoot through where Verity's heart would have been had she not moved; they whizz past the pirate and princess with scary accuracy; one were Iskra's eye had been, another that would have pinned down her foot, and another and another towards the princess. The Huntress shouts from her chariots, "How dare you come to taunt me, pirate and princess! How dare you consider defying me! The maiden is mine and so shall you two be for crossing me."