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

[starboob]

♕ PRINCESS VERITY (EXILED) ♕​

With a disappointed sigh, Verity starts to pull away from the captain as she chastises her. Though it is well within the captain's right to be upset with the princess, especially as she has inadvertently touched a nerve, she had hopes for them both that they were beyond petty insults. It stings, of course, but at this point she doesn't have the energy to engage in this sort of behavior. If this is how Iskra wants to be then so be it. All the more power to her, but Verity will not be baited into another argument––not when the last left them with wounds that still haven't closed. Idly, she only nods in response, acknowledging the statement and choosing not to discuss this matter any further as she browses through a selection of statues made from scrap metal. (Perhaps, were she a bigger person, she would apologize for the offense, because even she can recognize that intent matters not when the Consequences of one's actions are thorns stuck in someone else. It is possible that later she will come around and see that Iskra's reaction has little to do with her, per se, and more to do with the pirate's own mountain like opinions and positions––something she should be more or less accustomed to with all the Time spent with Iskra. For now, however, it is best for her to bite her tongue.)

"Right, shall we move on to look––" 'ing at floral arrangements,' would have been how she ended that sentence, eager to move them away from the topic she thought would have been fun to discuss with one who she assumed is a fellow romantic. However, such is not the case as Iskra walks back on her earlier statement and chooses to instead share more of herself with the princess. As honored as she wants to feel for finally having earned enough of Iskra's heart that she is willing to be so open with her, she almost Regrets it. For entirely selfish reasons, too. It's not that she cannot accept this, it would be foolish for her to deny such a thing, as Iskra had so clearly pointed out earlier, but, well, the truth stuns her. So much so she stops in her tracks, her face contorted into deep thought as she tries to put together all of these puzzle pieces into an image that makes sense. But honestly? Truthfully? This doesn't make sense to Verity. Or maybe it does and she just doesn't know how to make Iskra's truth fit into what she wants to be true. It's upsetting to say the least and this Time, Verity is not only thinking about what this means for her own, apparently misplaced affections for the captain, but she also thinks of how upsetting this must be for the captain. To ache and know there is no pill or potion to take away the Pain. Even if inured to such a reality, she cannot imagine that one can simply pretend they are fine.

And Iskra seems to be proof of that with her lifeless laugh, even if she can explain her predicament with distance that only logic can provide. At the same Time, it sounds as though it is not that she is incapable of love or being love, but she has closed herself off to the experience entirely since she already has been promised to this Shade. Maybe that is where the crux of her anguish lies, in the bitter belief that she has already been claimed. Somewhere, Verity can empathize with that sentiment for if she were promised to someone she had no love for, she might also have acid on her tongue when it comes to romance. In that analogy, she can also see why Iskra does not believe it is fair to try to offer herself to another.

While she does think it is bold of Iskra to presume what would be enough for another, she does not argue against this. (Perhaps because she remembers the last Time she had tried to tell the pirate that she was enough and how little evidence she had to corroborate her sentiments. Even if she still stands behind that sentiment, she remembers how disappointed Iskra had been when she could say nothing to support her claim. Another Time, when she knows more of Iskra, she shall rectify that misstep.) Besides, it does not seem as though the captain is all that interested in dissent given how she opened this leg of their conversation. So she simply settles with, “I must admit, Iskra, that I do not understand what you have just shared. I mean not to erect barriers between us, I simply wish for you to know that it will be many weeks of wrestling with myself to come to understand your position. I am dedicated to trying, and I hope you understand that this is just not something I have ever thought to think about. Such undying people do not exist where I am from and there is very little to suggest this phenomena is particularly common, so this is all very, very new to me."

"I am sorry to hear about this Shade of yours, for denying you a semblance of normalcy. For taking so much away from you... It sounds as if you have doom written in your stars," she admits, sorrow tinging her tone though she covers it by roughly clearing her throat. "Should your Time be truly near, then if I may selfishly make this request? I would like to spend as much Time as you have left knowing you as you are. I think I would Regret not knowing all your depths," she says, keeping the strain out of her voice this Time. There is no need to burden Iskra with her Grief and despite the pangs in her chest, she does not want to be consoled. Not right now and not by the pirate. That would be most inappropriate. At least with this request she can express her Desire to not abandon the captain and the veiled promise to stay with her until that bitter end. If Iskra will allow it, that is.

She decides to not address how she feels about this in relation to her feelings for Iskra, for a number of reasons. Most of them chalking up to the fact that there is simply no reason for her to. To make this about her and her wants would be insensitive to the captain in light of everything that she has said. Still, she has trouble merely keeping her opinions to herself. Even as she tries to bury herself in brief exchange with a shop vendor, haggling the price to what is actually standard for the region and collects a bouquet into her arms. "Were it within my powers," she starts, "not as a princess but just as a person, I would bend the universe so that you, too, may experience what it means to love. Even if it meant defying the Shade. If that were even your wish, captain. I know it is silly and girlish, and I do believe everyone should get that chance. At least once in their life," seeming to realize how that sounds, she quickly adds, "That is not to add more salt to your wounds, just know I would be dedicated to any cause that could help you have such an experience. As it is... I suppose I can offer you an ear or a shoulder as you carry this plight with you. I cannot promise I will always understand, but what you have shared leaves me with such a lonely feeling that I would not wish for you to feel alone in this, even if you are. ...I do apologize for my earlier assumptions, I should not have spoken without knowing the full extent of your predicament."

Then, perhaps taking the stars into her own hands, she plucks a blue flower from the bouquet and slips it behind Iskra's ear. "This isn't related to any topic of love or romance," which is to say that it is, and to Verity's credit she is speaking rather matter of factly, "But I have been wondering if you would like to attend the wedding with myself? Of course, I know that we will both be there, but were we to attend together... well, we both would have a guaranteed dance partner. Not that I wouldn't mind dancing with some in the crew, but, well, I believe we have a good rhythm together." This obviously is no veiled way to ask the captain on a date. That would be preposterous as she cannot love. "That, and I rather enjoy your company."

 

[Syntra]

What had she expected from this exchange? Absolution, perhaps, or further damnation? Verity looking at her with pity in her eyes, or the princess giving her the last shove she needed to plummet down, down, down, right into the hellfire sizzling below? Was she yearning for blisters to cover her skin, and for her eyes to melt? (…that way, the pirate at least wouldn’t have to look. The greatest pain didn’t wait for you at the pointy end of the sword, you know? Oh, if only it had been so simple! The true agony, as she had learned, was in seeing and perceiving-- in tearing off that protective layer of ignorance and understanding, for the very first time, what your position in the machine called ‘the universe’ was. …cogs, nothing more and nothing less. Cogs was all they were, turning endlessly, and some of them happened to be more replaceable than others. They had to be, didn’t they? Considering that the very reason for their existence was to grind themselves to dust, and… and that was the problem, really. Not that they had to do it, per se, but in her realization of the fact! Had her eyes remained closed, the pirate could have convinced herself, maybe, that what she was doing was some great sacrifice-- that, like the mother goddess, she was carving off her own flesh in order to feed her starving children. A nice prospect, wasn’t it? Except it was a lie, lie, lie, and she was nothing but meat for the grinder. A pawn, sacrificed for the glory of a fading ghost, with so much blood on her hands she could fucking drown in it!) …anyway, regardless of her non-expectations, Verity somehow managed to shatter them. Impressive, indeed.

“I… appreciate that,” the pirate muttered, quietly. “I don’t blame you for not understanding, of course-- I have been told it is, um, a lot.” Which was one reason why she hadn’t told the princess before. How did you break such news, even? ‘Hello, I am an undead abomination who is buying resurrections via sacrificing her natural lifespan! And, oh, by the way, it wasn’t really my choice, so now I’m struggling with the weight of it all. It’s existential crises 24/7 over here, really. Enough about me, though! How have you been?’ …yeah, even for someone with her talent for awkwardness, the captain had had no idea how to deal with the fallout of that. “I don’t really need you to grasp it, however. I… suppose it is enough that you listen.” The sensation of screaming into the void, so much that your lungs were bleeding, and still not being heard? Still, still not reaching anyone’s ears? That was the worst aspect of this entire ordeal, the pirate thought. (The Shade’s grip, you see, was firmer than steel. Not only did it wrap its dark tendrils around your soul, but they also dragged you away! Away from friends, from family, from yourself, even, for when you lived under a shadow so large… well, you forgot what you were, outside of its influence. If you were anything at all, that was. And now, now Verity offered her a way out! Someone to see her-- her true self, or whatever it was that remained of it. …had they met sooner, would Iskra have been able to salvage more of herself? How many parts of her were lost to the void, to the Shade’s voracious appetite? No. No, think not of the things that you cannot change. Look forward, Iskra. Forward, and never back.)

That Verity somehow wanted to spend even more time with her as a consequence of the revelation, though? The pirate blinked, trying to process this information. (The words were like blanket, a little bit. ‘I would regret not knowing all your depths,’ she’d said, and ah, did the pirate wish to wrap herself in that sentence! To think that someone thought she could have those… it was nice, really, even if Verity was wrong about that. For a while, it allowed her to forget about the cold, all-consuming emptiness inside of her-- forget and imagine, perhaps, what she would have been like had she not been born as a Seed. Would that hypothetical Iskra still have liked to gaze upon the starlit sky? Would she still have loved books? Would she have gotten lost in her own mind as often, or was that a product of trying to get to know that which was unknowable? It was an interesting mental exercise, if nothing else. Something to ponder over.)

“I… but why, Verity? The request is flattering to me, though what shall you gain from such interactions? All that energy poured into peering inside of me, and for nothing at all? You’d be wiser to spend that time elsewhere, I think. I mean, you might not even enjoy what you’ll discover.” Her reaction to witnessing certain, uh, less than savory parts of her past? it had given her a glimpse into the Verity’s psyche, and no, Iskra wasn’t looking forward to her unearthing other, even more depraved truths. Still, however, she wouldn’t shy away from them! No longer were they playing games, you see-- not the mean pirate and her tortured captive, nor the valiant princess and the beast she was about to slay. “I have to warn you, Verity, that I won’t go easy on you. If you truly wish to know me, I will not censor anything. I will not wrap my claws in silk, nor will I have shower you with excuses. I’ve done what I’ve done, for reasons that may or may not have been misguided, and I have accepted the responsibility. You, too, will have to carry my sins with you, should you learn of them-- and, again, they are not light things to bear. Not in the slightest.” So, where was the pay off? What was the point of sowing seeds into barren soil? Oh, by the Shade, Iskra still didn’t understand the princess at all! Speaking of which…

“But, princess,” she looked up, “revealing myself to another is no small matter. I cannot and will not do it for free. If… if you wish to know me, then I ask the very same thing of you in return-- I want to know who Verity is, without all the masks she wears. I want to…” ‘belong to her,’ some part of her wished to say, though the pirate promptly silenced it. No, such a thing was impossible! Just thinking this could happen, outside of the context of servitude, would be like… well, like hoping she could sprout wings. Like thinking the pirate could pluck one of the stars from the sky and gift it to the princess, so that she might wear it in her hair. “…walk the same path that you walk, for as long as I am allowed to.”

…ah. W-what? What was Verity doing? Was that a flower? Why, though? Was she hoping that, perhaps, Iskra could bloom like this as well? Absurdly enough, blood rushed into her cheeks, and she had to shake her head in order to get rid of the haze. (This meant nothing, truly. Only a fool would think otherwise! The wedding was taking place on the ship they were both staying at, and both of them had already agreed to go-- to do so together would be practical, most likely, if only because Iskra didn’t really understand what was expected of her there. Perhaps Verity was offering to teach her mastery over wedding-going? Yes, yes! That seemed on brand for the princess, who was so enamored with the concept. Like a good friend she was striving to be, the other woman would show her the ropes, and help her not to embarrass both herself and the happy brides. Perfectly acceptable, right? No crossing of boundaries in sight.) “Very well,” she stammered. “I, um, accept. It would be most convenient if I could draw upon your wealth of knowledge, and… and I do enjoy your company as well.”

The market was teeming with life, with women shouting over one another, and Iskra would give up just about anything to be able to escape her chaos, but deep inside, she knew her torture had just begun. Especially since she had to… “Verity,” she started, cautious, like a wolf on the prowl. Maybe, maybe if the pirate mapped the terrain first, it wouldn’t be so bad, right? (No, not even she actually believed that.) “Eran told me I ought to buy new clothes for the wedding. Something about ‘my coat being five years old’ and that not being acceptable, for some unfathomable reason.” Had it been torn, Iskra would have understood, but like!!! It was a perfectly fine coat, comfortable and warm. “Is that true? I mean, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with my clothes. If anything, their age could symbolize longevity and faithfulness, which, um. Which I think is the point with weddings, kind of. Do you think I should get something new as well? And, if so, will you help me choose the garment? I have to say, I haven’t a faintest idea what would be appropriate for the occasion.”

 

[starboob]

♕ PRINCESS VERITY (EXILED) ♕​

What does she hope to gain from all of this? In some ways, Verity finds the very question to be offensive––as if she needs to gain anything at all from getting to know another person. Why, why can she not merely wish to know someone who is dear to her without any further explanation than that needed? Always, people seem to think in exchanges and Verity has never truly understood why that is. Even if she can reason that often, yes, people are correct in their assumptions that everything is about exchange as it is just another example of cause and effect. At the surface level, Verity doesn't really think that she has an ulterior motives or wants anything more than to simply know Iskra, the dreaded pirate. Then, as she comes down from her initial offense, she gives the inquiry some deeper thought; is there something that hopes to gain? Iskra is right to point out that such interactions may have no purpose if her Life has an expiration date that is in the near future. In fact, knowing her more will only deepen her ache once the pirate has been taken into the Cosmos. Now would be the Time to run, to turn back, and never miss who she has never known. It would be less Painful, sure, but Verity had not been lying when she said it would be a deep Regret of hers if she were not to spend this Time, this limited Time, with the captain. Iskra may pass on, physically, but if the princess can keep her memory alive with all the things she has to offer? Whether it be glimpses into her past, understanding her perspective, or learning from her tutelage, in that Verity knows she can make Iskra's soul truly an immortal one; with all the stories she will have to tell and all the ways in which she will learn to honor the pirate, who so few got to know beyond a flimsy reputation.

Even as Iskra promises to offer all the darkest corners of her soul, the princess is not deterred. She refuses to turn away because there are pieces that are too hideous to even look at. It is those very pieces that paint the fullest picture of the captain. However she came to be a soldier and who she was then influences the pirate captain before her. She may not like it. In fact, she knows she won't––she cannot pretend there will ever be a version of her that will peer into the other woman's past and think to herself, 'Well, this is not all that bad, all things considered.' No, there will be Times of shock and disgust and she will swallow it all to truly understand this woman. To fully encapsulate her memory within her own. All of her pieces make up who she is, especially the ugliest ones. The same can be said for any soul, her own included.

When she has finally deliberated on what Iskra's has said, piecing together her answer, she turns to the captain and offers her a smile full of assurance, "Do you think so little of my dauntless nature that you think I would cower from your darkest crevices? I know you are not without fault, captain. The glimpses I have seen... well, they tell me as much. I cannot promise to be free of judgments for that is impossible to ask of anyone, but I promise to hold the woman who I have come to know alongside the woman you used to be. Those are two people who cannot be separated and I must understand that somehow, some way, you freed yourself of that woman to become this one. Understanding how this Iskra came to be is what I seek most of all, even if it shall be the most challenging endeavor that I embark on, this is my mission. To preserve your memory so that you may continue to live on in myth and legend, until they have named constellations after the woman who found her honor." Even as happy as the princess is making this grand declaration, she is serious when she acknowledges that this will be no easy task. For both of them as she cannot imagine the shame the pirate must hold, given what her values and morals seem to be now. There may be moments where they have to stop, where she or her will have to step away; there may be Times when she'll be too hysterical to remember anything the pirate is telling her––but she did not ask to know a perfect knight in shining armor. That may be a role she likes to designate to Iskra in her fantasies, but she knows better now than to confuse what she chooses to see for reality. Seeing only what she wants does no service to either of them. She only hopes that through this, they will become bonded souls even if there is a great risk of just the opposite happening, given their history together. 'Give her an honest chance this Time, Verity. You are curious how a woman full of such darkness can be such a light now.'

Oh, but just then Iskra demands payment for these lessons on herself in the form of the princess sharing her own past. That, admittedly, had not been something that Verity had been expecting. Not that she doesn't think the pirate isn't interested in her, per se, she just didn't think to make this about herself. "That––that seems only fair," she nods, furrowing her brow as she thinks on it more, "Though I am not really sure what you hope to gain. My Life has not been all that grand or great, if I am being honest," because a girl going from rags to riches must be the most ordinary thing in the world, to the girl that it happened to. "But I shall not deprive you either way, as it does seem fair that if I am to ask you to walk this line, that you ask that of me as well." Nervously, she does chew on the corner of her lip. In spite of her maintaining that her life has been ordinary, there are things she has withheld on purpose. There is one thing in particular she has been meaning to mention, but just has not found the moment for it. It seems as though, with this new contract drawn between pirate and princess, it is a matter of minutes of when she will finally tell Iskra of where her mind had gone when she chose to murder her.

Though, maybe she has hours to put that story off because suddenly, Iskra is offering her a much more interesting thing to focus her attention on. Her eyes shine like there is no other thing in the world that would make her happier than helping Iskra purchase new dress clothes for the wedding––and perhaps there isn't. She claps her hands together and holds them over her chest, "Oh, Iskra, I would be delighted and honored to help you with this!" She grabs the pirate's arm and then drags her into the nearby seamstress's shop, "And I have to agree with Eran. None of your clothes are acceptable wedding attire. Your argument that yours may be a symbol of longevity and faithfulness is... is preposterous! Of course, that is what wedding are about––oh, try this on, I think you will look lovely in that," she says, pausing her stream of thoughts as she rifles through the different garments and hands Iskra several different pieces to put on. (Truthfully, Verity already knows which of these suits she will have Iskra purchase––she spotted it maybe three seconds after they arrived in the shop, but to not take advantage of this opportunity of seeing the pirate in clothes that may actually fit her better? In colors that not only go together, but also complement her palette? She cannot deny herself this one pleasure. Besides, there is a slim possibility she will end up finding an even better option for the pirate through this adventure.)

"How do you feel about coattails? I think they can be rather charming, so... Yes, try this on as well," she says pulling a deep navy blue suit from the holo-mannequin and adding it to the ever growing pile. "I think we ought to take this Time to perhaps even find you a new coat. I adore the ones you have," clearly, she is wearing one of Iskra's at this very moment, "and I think a captain should treat herself to something finer. Perhaps something more in vogue, you know?" The captain really should have thought twice before asking for the princess's assistance. It will be hours before Verity releases her from this activity. "We may as well get you fitted for some new shirts as well and maybe some trousers. Oh, how do you feel about ascots? An bowtie might look nice on you as well..."

 

[Syntra]

Iskra had thought, once, that Verity was made out of starlight-- those delicate, silvery threads that awed millions, and in doing so, awakened their imaginations from their slumber. In a way, they had brought them to life, because, really, what was a mind that didn't dream if not dead? Nothing, surely! A dramatic comparison, perhaps, but it, and only it, had seemed appropriate for the ethereal princess. As it was, though? Frankly, the pirate had to reconsider. Not because Verity didn't meet her expectations, mind you-- no, it just turned out that starlight, as a substance, was far too ordinary for a woman of her caliber. Instead of that, she was made of surprises, of those moments when your breath was stolen and your blood raced in your stream, and... oh, by the Shade! How had she promised her immortality? How had she promised it, and also made it possible? (It was a childish dream, Iskra knew. A sign of your mind not yet being ripe, really, and needing more time to solidify into that which it was meant to be. Nothing lasted forever, you see? Even galaxies returned to the dust from which they'd come from, and fell at their creator's feet. ...stories, though. One might argue that stories died, too-- that they fell out of favor, or got transformed beyond recognition, or, perhaps, sacrificed some vital aspect of themselves in order to avoid those respective fates. To Iskra, however? To Iskra, that didn't seem like decay. Life, you see, translated to movement, and so, in order to survive, you had to change, change, change! Change, in order to grow beyond what you were. Change, to transcend the boundaries of your own self. Change, so that others might draw strength from you. And if some version of her, even a fictional one, could achieve that? That... ah. That was more than Iskra had ever dared to hope for, really. To think that Verity would be the one to open that gate for her, too! Such a blessing, and for nothing at all.)

"I, uh, don't know what to say," Iskra admitted, "maybe aside from the fact that I can never offer you anything that might match your gift in value. I am not a singer," even if her heart sang with her there, oh, it did, it did, "and so I cannot sing your praises. Similarly, I am not a poet. How can I hope, then, that my words will ever convey the depth of my gratitude? Although," the pirate rubbed a chin, "I may compose a melody, for you and you only. A melody that will tell the tale of my heart. A meagre thing, perhaps, but I cannot offer more!" ...aside from herself, that was. The thing was, the pirate had given herself to the princess in the past, and how had that worked out? Not very well, to put it mildly. So, no, Iskra would continue to belong to nobody-- no longer would she give herself to others so easily, as if she was a dog looking for a new master. (Never, the captain realized, had she truly been alone. On the most basic of levels, there was the Shade, the unwelcome guest inside of her head, but that? That wasn't all. There was her crew, and the Holy Vessel before that, and, even before that, her dear sisters. Maybe, now that she thought of it, it would be wise to taste solitude? At least a simulation of it, solely to find out who she was without all those people. Not that the Shade could be removed, of course, but... yes. As a thought experiment, it sounded interesting enough, at least! ...maybe, if Iskra knew herself better, she could later offer more to those that mattered to her, too. Was it not true, after all, that you could only ever use a sword to its full extent once you knew the blade? Then, analogously, if she didn't even know what made her tick... Oh no, the pirate had no business giving herself to anyone! Not when she could only offer a caricature, drawn in crude, thick lines. A child's attempt.)

That analysis, however, had to wait-- mostly because Verity was, uh, passionate about her wedding clothes. Ah, if only Iskra had known what kind of hell would be unleashed with her innocent request! "Coattails. I don't know? I don't have any strong opinions, I suppose, aside from the fact that they're impractical." Would you, after all, risk running while knowing you could trip over some ridiculous strips of fabric dangling from your back? Right, she didn't think so! But, oh, Verity continued to speak and speak, in the same way that rivers continued to flow, and Iskra genuinely thought she'd drown in all those words. "I don't see what's wrong with my old coats," she protested, feebly. (Even to her own ears, the complaints sounded weak-- desperate excuses of a child who had been caught copying her homework from another, much smarter peer. A ridiculous association, perhaps, but how could she ever hope to feel differently, when faced with such brilliance?) "In truth, I believe that clothes got too complicated in the past few decades. The core idea is to cover your nakedness, and that's what we should return to. Anything else only distracts from its primary purpose. Truly, among otherwise identical pieces of clothing, why would you prefer one over the other just because the color happens to be different? How does that impact its function? And, uh... I don't actually know what 'ascots' are," the captain admitted. "It reminds me of apricots, though I'd suppose those are unrelated? Since, you know, the context."

Far more quickly than Iskra would have liked, she found herself carrying more clothes than a single human being could reasonably need for, like, the entirety of their lifetime. Just, how could anyone justify such wastefulness? Wars ravaged other people's countries, and yet here she was, playing with fabrics as if... as if she was trying to become some colorful parrot, dammit. Swiftly, the pirate was being ushered into a fitting room by a beaming assistant, and... uh. Another problem arose, so to speak. "Verity?" Iskra asked, her voice small and shy. "I, um, don't know how to put this on. Will you help me?"

 

[starboob]

♕ PRINCESS VERITY (EXILED) ♕​

It is not lost on Verity that Iskra has had a sudden change of heart on her ability to compose music versus seeing herself as a simple vessel for its essence, waiting for songs to arrive like bees wait for the spring bloom. Though she is far more fixated on the idea that she will receive a song that has been crafted for her and her alone. The thought does cause her cheeks to flush and she nearly has to take a seat to catch herself before she falls over. It's an overwhelming prospect and now that Iskra has spoken it into existence, she knows that the pirate will follow through. Perhaps not soon, but eventually Verity will hear the song that exists inside of Iskra's heart; one that is sung for her and perhaps in that melody she will have her clarity; does the pirate like her? Adore her? Cherish her? Or possibly even love her? She will have that answer, she imagines, a few seconds after the pirate's lips touch the flute.

That Iskra thinks her gift will be insignificant in comparison to what Verity promises is rather laughable, because of all the gifts she has ever recieved no one has ever written her a song. As intimate as she had been with the musicians of the court, none had deemed her worthy enough to be their muse (or if they did, they never shared their works with the princess). In any case, any gift that comes from the captain's very heart is worth more than all the stars combined, she wagers. So she will hear none of the pirate's modestness! "Iskra, if it is a song that your heart composes for me, I am sure it will be worth everything that I have offered to you. There is simply no doubt of that in my mind," she says, grinning as she looks over her shoulder towards the pirate while she pulls a few different ascots from a display.

With her mind racing to create every single combination of different outfits that may suit her companion, she has trouble resisting the urge to pluck every single piece from the racks. Though even she knows that would be impractical as she doesn't really imagine there are many events in which a pirate will need such a variety of wears. Still, she may try to convince Iskra to select at least two dress coats, just in case. Even if the pirate's erroneous explanation of fashion suggests she sees no need to have more than only the basics. (It's as if she thinks people should just go through their lives without frivolous joy.) At that, Verity sets down the pile of neckwear she had been gathering and gives the captain a firm look. "Fashion," she starts, trying her best to keep her cool before she launches into a lecture that would put the sage sisters to shame, "is not about practicality and the basic function of clothes. Though that does not mean it is without purpose. It is an art. It is how one expresses oneself. It is how you tell your story to strangers without even having to say hello. Based on clothing, one can recognize a scoundrel from a saint. You can even guess one's insecurities based on what they try to hide. It is also a vehicle for confidence––after all, it is hard to feel too embarrassed when dressed so well. I have found that to be true, at least."

"Really, you can tell so much about a woman based on how she dresses," she finishes, pulling yet another shirt from a holo-mannequin, effectively ensuring that all of them are in need of new ensembles. "Yes, ascots are about as far away as you can get from an apricot––though I have to admit, I have never had an apricot before. Not a fresh one at least. The dried ones leave something to be desired in my opinion. Anyway, it's merely a piece of neckwear that I think will look most handsome on you," she smiles in a way that expresses her delight and also serves to warn that captain that she will not be released from the princess's clutches anytime soon.

Once she is satisfied that she has gathered enough options for the pirate to try on, she sit down in one of the chairs outside of the dressing room, waiting patiently to see her companion in the first outfit she has put together. Though when Iskra asks her to join her in the dressing room? Well, Verity is happy to lend a hand to her friend, assuming that she is having trouble fiddling with the neckwear given her lack of familiarity. (Understandable, really, as the pieces can be confusing to anyone.) There isn't any thought in her mind of what she will see once she slips past the curtain, mostly figuring she will find the captain partially/mostly dressed; and perhaps had she had the forethought to prepare herself for any and all possibilities, she could have avoided the moment where her gaze meets Iskra's rather, hm, bare figure. Mind you, the captain is not stripped down to nothing, but she is stripped down enough that it all but forces the princess's mind to wander in so many different directions that she has trouble keeping her head straight. Her cheeks darken, while a lump forms in her throat and she has to lean back against a wall to make up for her jelly legs. Just, she had not expected to see so much of Iskra––eventually, most definitely, but not today––and while she does try to remain respectful, her hungry eyes betray her as she steals a few glances at her companion, wondering just how to get her stripped down fully. She licks her lower lip, lost in thought and when she realizes what she is doing, she quickly gathers herself, clears her throat, and then approaches Iskra. The smile on her lips almost appears demure in nature; a far cry from the usually confident princess.

"Of course, I would be much obliged," she mutters, her eyes never leaving the captain while she pulls the first outfit from the pile and helps the captain into the shirt first, handing her the trousers next, and then instructing her on how to tuck the shirt into place; she has Iskra try the outfit with cummberband and then switches that for a vest, unsure of which looks best as the pirate is overwhelmingly handsome in both. She has Iskra cycle through a few different coats as well, forcing the captain to try out multiple different combinations of what is essentially the same outfit. "This is a rather difficult decision," she mutters, even though she hasn't even had Iskra put on the outfit she is set on purchasing, so it's a wonder what decision she is trying to reach. Perhaps the decision over which outfit will look best on her bedroom floor? More than likely. "You just look so dashing in everything. I will admit, however, that it was an oversight on my end when I had you put on that powder blue coat. That is the only option I have truly ruled out..."

Whatever she decides, however, remains a mystery as she says nothing and instead has the captain strip once more, presumably to try on a different option. "I shall take my time deliberating on the wedding attire. In the meantime, let's see you in these trousers, this shirt, and this coat," she announces, handing Iskra garments that resemble what she came into the shop wearing, however much better in fit and quality. "This should be an update to your current look––I tried to keep in mind what you already appear comfortable with and merely selected options that are better in quality and should hold over the years since you so appreciate the longevity of your wears," she teases, draping a scarf over the captain's neck. She takes a step back to look at her companion, her fondness showing clearly in her eyes, while a slight smile pulls at her lips. "Iskra, has anyone told you how Beautiful you are?"

 

[Syntra]

Hmm. Was Verity speaking the truth? More specifically, could you really judge a book by its covers? Everything Iskra had ever learned pointed in the opposite direction, and to think she'd been this drastically wrong... no, that was impossible to contemplate! (That being said, how did the old adage go? 'In every corner, a morsel of truth can be found?' Maybe, just maybe, she'd do well not to discount different ideas so easily-- maybe the stars had willed them to meet so that they could sharpen each other's thoughts, much like glass sharpened diamonds. But, oh, for that, they had to clash! Sparks had to fly, those tiny flames, and in the resulting heat, unworthy ideas would get burnt, burnt, burnt, to cinders and beyond that.) "I suppose I see your point," the pirate conceded. "I mean... it is much like owning an expensive sword, isn't it? Materially, there's zero difference between an ordinary weapon, and one that can be considered a masterpiece-- you know, with an ornate pommel and such. It does nothing for you in the heat of battle, except perhaps from lending you courage. 'Look at me,' such a sword says. 'I am important, and the gods have blessed my endeavors. Fear me, for none shall stand in my way.' I've never viewed clothing in such a way, though I suppose that it may be different for other people? If they care about that sort of thing." 'If' of course, being the operative word. Iskra, for example? Such matters concerned her about as much as the grass beneath her feet did, or the birds that sang their songs in the vast, vast skies. Verity had a right to her opinion, of course, and she didn't deny that nice fabrics might help her feel that way, but to act as if this was universal? As if it was the equivalent of oxygen, without which she was choking? Foolish, foolish, foolish! "And, no offense, princess, but I do not think you are right. Not in one regard, at the very least. The saint and the scoundrel... well. Do you think, perhaps, that the Holy Vessel used to dress herself in tatters? Oh no, no, no. Only the finest of silks ever shrouded her form-- she used to wear pearls in her hair, too, and her arms were painted with new, beautiful tattoos every day. She was a joy to behold, truly. Radiant. Yet, would you say that her clothing reflected her character? And, conversely, what about the poor folks with hearts of gold? Surely, the fact that they cannot afford to wear actual gold doesn't diminish their worthiness."

Now, Iskra had to wonder, why was it that Verity suddenly seemed so, hmmm... so bashful? That wasn't like the daring princess she knew! (Her shining star in the darkness, always ready to illuminate her path. Her compass, really, made of gold and nacre. What could have stolen her breath, and colored her cheeks red? As far as Iskra was concerned, there was nothing exceptional in this fitting room! ...only her own bare form, ugly in its crudeness. There wasn't a hint of elegance to it, you see? And there couldn't be, for that was not why she'd been carved, from flesh and bone and blood. Everything about her, every single muscle, was but a part of one large machine-- machine meant to kill, kill, kill, as easily as others breathed. Was it any wonder, then, that Verity found herself taken aback? Ah, truly! Seeing her for what she was must have been sickening, indeed. ...still, the pirate supposed, this was fine. The princess had promised to accept her in her entirety, with all her flaws and blemishes, so wasn't it only appropriate that she got to see her like this? Let her look, and let her be my judge. Let her paint my portrait, with all the colors that can be found inside of my soul. That, and only that, can ensure that the future generations will know me.)

Over and over and over, the pirate accommodated the princess's whims-- one outfit followed another, and each time, her frustration grew. Just, ugh! What was the point of this? Iskra would have understood, she guessed, had the clothes been substantially different. Hell, maybe there was some crucial difference, even, but to an untrained eye? They seemed the same, same, same! (...roughly, anyway. You could wax poetically about the color of the sea and the color of the sky, though in the end, wasn't it just blue?) Unhappy, Iskra pursed her lips. "How long is this going to take, Verity?" she whined before discarding another piece of clothing on the ground. Just, how had they gone from saving the future of the local pantheon to... to this? To figuring out which piece of garment would better accentuate her curves, or something? "My arms ache and my legs died long ago, too. Honestly, this is worse than many of the battlefields I've been to. There, at least, you could defend yourself with a sword! But, Verity, there is no escape here-- there is no hope, either, and that fills my soul with despair." ...dramatic, maybe, but you know what? Iskra deserved her rare moment of theatrics. No matter what the princess said, trying on so many outfits at once was strange and uncomfortable and utterly nonsensical, and the captain saw absolutely no reason to--

--ah. Beautiful. Wasn't it funny, indeed, how a single word could resonate in your bones? How its echoes could make your heart sing the sweetest of melodies, and yet tremble in horror? 'Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful,' she heard, each letter pressing itself into her skin. (It was hot, like branding iron. Hot like the desire she never should have tasted, too, and yet, yet she'd eaten that forbidden fruit! Voraciously, so much that the juices were still running down her chin.) "You shouldn't say such things, Verity," Iskra finally responded, refusing to meet her companion's eyes. "Adjectives like that... they weren't meant for me, or for people like me. Didn't I tell you I was dead soil? You may drown me in affection should you wish to, but those efforts will have been wasted. I will never be more than I am-- more than I was made to be. Pretending otherwise will only cause you heartbreak. Why, after all, would you try to kiss a rock? Your lips, no matter how hot their fire might be, will never be able to breathe true life into me. I'm dead already, princess. I've always been."

 

[starboob]

♕ PRINCESS VERITY (EXILED) ♕​

Verity sighs as Iskra goes on to compare having a sense of fashion to owning a particularly fancy blade, somehow surprised that the captain has managed to draw this parallel as if swords are not a common theme for the captain. Not that she doesn't see what Iskra is saying, it is just not how she would have thought to discuss fashion and if it helps her understand the princess, then fine. Perhaps she should make a note to start thinking in sword analogies so that she may reach the pirate more effectively. (Actually, she doesn't think that would be such a bad idea given its prevalence in the captain's Life and her obvious inclination to relate to the object. Were she to do that, however, she worries that it will only encourage the captain to continue thinking of herself in such a dispiriting manner. She does want the pirate to see herself as she truly is and how others, aside from Verity, must see her as well. Though perhaps it does not matter what the princess wants, when the captain is not able to even entertain ideas outside of being an object. It saddens her to know she lives in such a way, but what does that really matter if Iskra is fine with how she is living? Has Verity ever really considered that? And in that, does this make her Desires selfish? More than likely.) "I would not have thought of that analogy on my own, and I suppose I see the relationship as well," she hums, eyes flitting over the pirate while she sheds layers and dresses in the pieces that Verity hands to her.

Though when Iskra points out the flaw in her statement? Oh, her face flushes with such heat she thinks the air around her must be burning too! Just, how can be so foolish and empty headed? Horrified with herself, especially remembering how she has done a disservice to all the women who raised her––not just her mothers, but the women of the city, her neighbors––she quickly stumbles through an open-letter apology, "I-I truly... You are right, Iskra. I spoke without remembering what is true and in that, I apologize. Evil often uses Beauty as her disguise." That is something the princess has said before and fashion is a mere extension of Beauty––or can be, depending on how one chooses to use it. "How one dresses can be a statement of character, and it is no foolproof way to to truly judge another. I misspoke," she says, once more remembering when Mama had warned her that she was letting her title get to her head and feeling that shame wash over her as if it were new. "You would think I would know better than to make such a statement, but alas there some lenses you lose when royalty becomes your Life. It's hard to enter that world and leave it unchanged. Though, I am sure the same can be said for many walks of Life... Even so, I had tried to be cautious of letting it all affect me as I had not wanted to forget who I was before. I suppose I was not strong enough to Resist its influence entirely," she confesses, making this rare admission that further invites the captain in her world.

Even with her shame clinging to her to the point of suffocation, she manages to continue to pull outfits together––at this point, admittedly, she is using the captain as a live dress-up doll. She doesn't feel too terribly about it until Iskra starts to complain and exaggerate like a child. At that, the princess rolls her eyes and gives the pirate a stern look, "We cannot know how these all fit and look on your until you put them on. Even my imagination is not so great that I can predict how this fabric will hang on your figure." Still, she takes the hint. There is no need to make the captain "suffer" any more than she already has and by now, the princess at least knows which colors look best on her. She waves the assistant into the room and has the woman scan Iskra with her device to take down her measurements. Verity then hands the woman the clothes to be tailored, not at all hiding that she has added two everyday coats, three new shirts, and two pairs of trousers to their order. "I only need you to try on one last thing, Iskra, and then we can be on our way," because even with the bulk of their order taken care of one cannot expect Verity to let the captain leave without seeing herself in the suit she will be wearing to the wedding.

The princess takes the final suit and hands it to the captain to put on. The suit coat is maroon colored and made of velvet material. Thankfully, it does not have coattails, it just goes far down enough to hit the captain's knees. The shirt, silk vest, and trousers meant to go with the coat are all black; even the paisley pattern on the vest has been done in black, making it appear more subtle than it would otherwise. The ascot that she has selected, and is now helping the captain tie, is maroon colored and made of silk. When she steps back to look at Iskra in the outfit she has chosen for her, she once more feels the oxygen leave her lungs as she is so taken with the woman in front of her.

Only for that woman to reject the compliment she had tried to pay. This, also, should come as no surprise to the princess as the pirate has rarely ever accepted her praise before. Still, she cannot deny her disappointment in what Iskra says to refute her truth. 'Always will she see herself in this light? Through such a distorted lens?' she wonders, thinking perhaps that it may not be worth her efforts to change the captain's mind. It probably is not even her place, when she thinks about it. Though Acceptance still seems to be out of her reach, for reasons she does not know. She manages to hide her frown, though her elongated silence probably suggests there is more swimming within her mind. If only she could find her words.

"Right," she finally says, disappointed that all her other words seem to be lost. "After you have taken a look at yourself, you are released from this mild torture. Just hand the suit to the assistant and I shall meet you outside." The princess then dismisses herself and exits the shop to wait outside. While she waits, occupies herself by watching the throng of people walk, run, and skip through the busy market. Her mind, though, wanders back to her conversations with Iskra. At some point, she will have to let go of the idea that the pirate will ever change. She may change her mind on some topics, but when it comes to her self-concept she is so stubborn and unyielding that the princess is unsure of whether she should continue with her efforts to convince Iskra otherwise. Though she knows she should Accept the pirate as she is and expect nothing more or less from her, it is still disappointing that she is not able to reach the pirate. Not that she expected a few words alone to ever shatter the pirate's beliefs, but... well, she realizes she may need to let go of her affections. Her heart is far too close to this endeavor to ever see the truth and maybe such distance will help her be the friend intends to be for the pirate. 'Yes, I need to stop imposing my girlish will... She does not even believe herself to be capable of romance so it matters not what I feel for her, ultimately. My feelings shall never change her. Only she can do that.'

When Iskra does, finally, join her, she decides to return to their last topic with her new thoughts in mind. "Ah, there you are," she starts, clearing her throat awkwardly as she tries to find the words to explain herself, "I apologize for not acknowledging you back in the dressing room. It is difficult for me to stomach the truth of knowing how you view yourself. Silly, I know, but I suppose I only wish for you to see how another may view you, Iskra. I do not intend to mock you and if I have, then I apologize." She chews on her bottom lip, looking away from her companion, "I am afraid, however, that you may never be able to convince me that my position back there is wrong as my eyes only know what they see. If that is delusion, then I Fear that is lens much too heavy for anyone to lift. In that, you may not be able to prevent me from breaking my own heart. I have been told it is an exceptional talent of mine, anyway."

 

[Syntra]

Sometimes, Iskra knew, letting go of one’s ideas could be hard. How not? Diligently, like a mother, you nourished them-- poured your very essence into them, really, till they were strong enough to take on the world. Who, then, would have liked to hear that the wings you had given to one of them were made of paper? That not only they wouldn’t carry it, but that the first storm would tear it apart? Very few people, the pirate would wager. Not even those who found a strange kind of pleasure in pain tended to enjoy those moments, because oh, did they expose you! The deepest, innermost parts of yourself-- cracks in an otherwise perfect façade, or maybe shame that was lurking just beneath the surface. ‘I am not perfect,’ it forced you to say, and honestly? Few were ready to make that admission. (With your own eyes, you see, you could afford to view yourself as a god. It wouldn’t be true, of course, but truth wasn’t the most sought-after goods in the galaxy. No, contentment was! And, as long as your delusions didn’t get shattered, building a glass castle out of them was one of the easier ways to seize it for yourself.) Verity, though. Verity, despite the fire in her veins, did not hesitate to take her words back. Instead of continuing to worship a statue that she had learned depicted a demon, the princess tore it down herself, and… just, wow. Inspiring, wasn’t it? Much more than stubbornness would have been, anyway. (…indeed, lessons could be learned in all places. Much like pearls could be found in the mud, wisdom dwelled in unexpected places, too. Not that Iskra thought Verity to be vapid, of course, but still!)

“No, there is no need to apologize. The world is too complex for a single person to see it in its wholeness. That is why we were made to cooperate with one another-- To provide another set of eyes, and to support your comrade when they might falter. I don’t think there is any disgrace in finding out you were wrong, Verity. Refusing to accept that would be the true affront.” It wasn’t like Iskra couldn’t understand why the princess would make such a mistake, too. About 80% of their bodies comprised of water, didn’t it? And water, like any liquid, assumed the shape of the container it found itself in! No, thinking that her values would be untouched by the life she had led would be naïve-- akin to wondering why, exactly, the footsteps you left behind copied the form of your shoe. (…the pirate knew what she was talking about, too. Hadn’t they made her into what she was now? Hadn’t they bent her, over and over and over, till her spine had cracked?)

Thankfully, it seemed that Verity had decided to show her some mercy. A few more pieces of clothing, Iskra thought, and she would be free! (It still stuck her as wasteful, to spend so much money on what was essentially a few colorful fabrics, but eh-- as long as it made the princess happy, she supposed, no expense was high enough. Just, why should worries chain her hands? You couldn’t take money into your grave, anyway. …too bad you couldn’t take memories there, either, though. Recalling Verity’s smiles would have made death that much sweeter.)

Then, after what felt like eternity, Iskra was finally allowed to leave this cursed den of sin. Ah, fresh air had never tasted better! She wanted to comment upon that, too, except that Verity had another topic in mind. “No, it’s not like that,” the pirate shook her head. “You… you didn’t insult me, Verity.” Quite the contrary, actually. How beautiful it would have been, to bask in the warmth her statement had cast! ‘Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful.’ Why did other words had to exist, even? They filled her with so, so much happiness, indeed, that, in exchange for being able to claim them, Iskra happily would have sacrificed the rest of her vocabulary. (…fate didn’t haggle, though. All the cards had been dealt, dealt, dealt, and she had to deal with that, too. Who had ever heard of a Seed that didn’t break, huh?) “I was just surprised, that’s all. And, really, I can’t expect to be able to govern your thoughts, now can I? Nor do I want to, for only tyrants aim to win such prizes. I… I suppose you may think me beautiful, then-- as long as you accept the responsibility for all the consequences it might lead to.”

At that point, most of the shopping had been taken care of-- Iskra grabbed what she could, and as for that which she couldn’t? The merchants promised to deliver it to them, with wide smiles on their faces. “For them, it must have been the deal of the century,” the pirate sighed. “But at least I can rest easy now, knowing that Eran and Saavika shall have a wedding even the stars themselves will sing about. The only thing that’s left… hmm, that would be the sharasha, I would wager.” Upon mentioning that word, her expression soured-- almost as if someone had forced her to swallow a whole lemon, really. Just, blasted fools! Why would they not follow the voice of reason? Had they grown tired of life, and wished to enjoy the peace of a coffin instead? Not that Iskra judged, of course, though one would have assumed that a wedding would fill you with different desires.

“But, Verity,” she turned to her, once they were safely aboard Inure once again, “I have to admit, I am still rather ignorant as far as weddings go. Attending it with you… what does it mean, exactly? Will there be duties I will have to attend to? I wish not to embarrass you, nor do I want you to carry my share of responsibility. I’d rather die before dishonoring you so. So, what will be expected of me? Say a word, Verity, and I shall do my best to meet your standards.”

 

[starboob]

♕ PRINCESS VERITY (EXILED) ♕​

The rest of their shopping trip goes without issue. There are no old flames from their past that come to interrupt or steal their attention, nor goddesses in need of saving to distract them. In that, it is rather ordinary and almost boring in comparison to how this excursion had initially started. The princess ensures that they are given fair prices and though there are certain items that she knows she could have gotten for a lower price had she feigned walking away just once more, in the end, the difference between pennies matters less to her than it does to the vendors, who spend far more of their day hard at work than she has in a while. She spares some credits to the beggars on the street; buys a few treats for children whose eyes looked so forlorn as their mothers tugged them away from the chocolate stand (mind you, she did ask permission of the mothers first––she is no disrespectful savage); and treats herself a to an extra bolt of fabric. Then, once they have squared away the details of the deliveries, they leave the marke. It's not until they are back on the ship that the princess realizes just how exhausted this day has left her. She rolls her shoulders back, rocking her head from side to side, already thinking of the bath she will draw for herself when Iskra's chatter reaches her. Her ears perk and she turns to give her companion her undivided attention.

"It is my belief that a wedding is at least one event on one's Life where no expense should be spared. After all, ideally you are only married once and so it should be a celebration to remember." Fondly, she reminscenes over the weddings she has attended in years past and how each one had been nothing short of excellence. However, the weddings she finds most joyful to look back on are not the noble weddings––which all had been beyond words to describe in their decorum (one, she recalls, had been diamond themed––so everything from the tableware to the decorations to the clothes were covered in diamonds; one bride had so much dusted onto her that even her subtle movements caused her to shimmer). No, the weddings she adores the most had been the ones in friends' backyards or on the port, where the food had been the shining star of the event and the laughter had been the sweetest songs. "I recall when my elder sister got married to her wife, there were three whole roasted boars. You would have thought we were trying to feed the entire city. There was so much food that even after we had sent everyone home with leftovers upon leftovers we were still left with a months worth of meat. I was so sick of boar after that," she chuckles, surprised she can still find happiness in her past.

As they continue through the deck of the ship, the princess waves at a few of the crew and checks in with some about minor wedding details as they come to mind. (With the wedding so close, nearly everyone has a task to busy themselves with and most know that while the captain has also been charged with organizing the event, it is the princess who is finalizing all the decisions.) "Speaking of the sharasha, what exactly is that? I have looked through the library for hints, but... alas, none have been translated into my language and I can only make so many guesses as to what all those letters could mean." Based on the little context she has gathered, though? It seems as though it will be a foolhardy mission––not that that would ever stop the princess from wanting to participate.

"Ah, I am happy to provide some direction, my friend," she replies, a wide smile stretching across her lips. The princess honestly had not even thought to brief the pirate on what to expect. It's not that she assumes how one should carry themselves on a date is something universally understood, but, well, she has never had to explain the expectations before. Or even her own expectations. It warms Verity that Iskra is so determined to ensure that she is fulfilling her role to the greatest degree. Not that she can even imagine the captain ruining the experience were she to only be herself. She's almost curious how the pirate would compose herself were they not to have this conversation, but it is not her mission to cause Iskra any worry. Happily, she explains the details, "For the most part, we are to be each other's primary company. That is not to say that I shall have exclusive access to you or vice versa, though I won't deny the idea is pleasing, simply, there is the expectation that we shall be by each other's side and attend to the other's needs whether that be conversations, dance, refilling the other's glass, and so on. It is our shared duty to ensure that we are both happy with the experience," she nods, "We shall be seated next to each other," which Verity had already arranged even before asking the captain to be her date, "and it is assumed we will be dance partners. Some others may still cut in for a dance or two, but I should hope we'll share the majority. Oh, and since I asked you to the wedding, I shall meet you at your door an hour or so before as we'll both need to oversee the last minute details. So be sure to be ready before then. If you have trouble with the ascot, you can leave that until the end and I shall help you tie it when I arrive to pick you up. Oh, and I had planned to bring you a flower to pin into your hair, as is custom in my homelands. If there is no custom where you are from to present your partner for the evening with a similarly small token, then it would be expected that you have a flower for my hair as well."

 

[Syntra]

This time, Iskra promised to herself, I shall not fail. ‘Failure’ could be her second name at that point, really, but she would not allow it to taint Verity’s memory of the wedding-- not when it seemed so important to her, anyway. Frankly, it still seemed a bit ridiculous to her. Just, why would you celebrate a love that wasn’t even yours? Did people feed on the happiness, much like vampires fed on blood? Was there some collective Well of Joy everyone but her was allowed to drink from? Ah, so mysterious the galaxy was, and she’d only been granted such a short time to explore it! In the face of its grandiosity, human lives truly matched those of mayflies. …regardless of Verity’s motivations, though? The princess breathed for the wedding, she could tell, and so it wasn’t her place to judge. Oh no, no, no. Judgment, you see, was a double-edged sword-- use it against another if you have to, but don’t be surprised to find a matching blade stuck in your own heart. …Iskra still remembered the way it felt, to have all that kindness Verity had fed her turn into poison. (It resembled flames, didn’t it? The way it had burnt, burnt, burnt, deep inside of her, and used her own blood as fuel. There was no reason to think that Verity would resort to such a thing again, of course. Revenge, as they’d both learned, was an unsatisfying prey to hunt! For every arrow shot at it, it fired three more back at you, and, uh... it just wasn't worth it. Not more than it was worth it to set your house on fire just because you disliked the color of your curtains, really. Presumably, Verity had learned the same lesson, hadn't she? Even so, Iskra assumed that, when she'd done it the first time around, the decision hadn't been driven by malice. Not entirely, at least. There wasn't a demon lurking in the princess's soul, itching to reveal its true twisted nature, nor was Verity a villain with a taste for using naive pirates. No, pain had driven her to act as she had, Iskra suspected-- the same kind of pain that forced an animal to bite their own leg off, really, when stuck in a trap. Which, never again. Never again would Iskra hurt her, and force her to retaliate like this!)

"Ah. That makes sense, I suppose." Unbidden and unwanted, memories emerged from her mind-- her own shadow self, but that of Verity, too, dancing not together, but not alone, either. (Would they be able to touch each other for real, this time? As in, not just with their hands? ...and would the princess's robe end up on the floor again? For some reason, the prospect sent Iskra's imagination to, uh, interesting places. You know, the places that no Seed should ever be exploring? Yeah, those. Gulp.) "I shall not place these expectations on you, but know that I am in no way interested in dancing with other women. For that night, I shall be yours." ...ah, yes, the safe alternative. Giving herself to another, the pirate had decided, was too dangerous, but like this? With the caveats such as 'for one night only?' There was greater control in that sort of situation, and yet, yet it also reminded her of her old chains in a way that felt comfortable, much like singing a familiar tune. Like revisiting one's favorite fairytale, perhaps. "We, um. We don't give each other flowers, though there is a traditional gift for occasions like that. I believe it's supposed to be a secret, though. The, um, true reason is that I know not what form it shall take yet," the pirate explain, uncharacteristically bashful. "You're meant to ask your own heart." ...as opposed to what? Someone else's heart, or perhaps your lung? And wasn't her heart inside of Iskra, anyway? Ah, secrets, secrets!

When the conversation turned to the topic of the sharasha, though? The captain gave Verity her best 'please, not you, too' look. "I swear, my hair is going to turn grey before its time," she lamented. "Let's go hunt the sharasha, they said. It'll be fun, they said. And, yes, it might be, but has anyone on this ship ever stopped to think of the consequences?" The most tragic thing about it, of course, was that Iskra didn't think Verity would actually join her side here. Rushing headfirst into danger solely because some obscure tradition demanded it? Why, that had the princess's handwriting all over it! "It's a bird," the pirate finally disclosed, reluctantly. "A bird whose feathers glimmer like gold. Its flesh is only ever supposed to be consumed by the newlyweds, because, um," dammit, why did her cheeks have to burn like that, "apparently, it inspires carnal desires within you. The problem with actually catching one, though? Its song. There are some, ah, interesting properties to it." Come on, stop beating around the bush! Just, say it. It's not like dodging the topic will change anything, and besides, why should this matter to you? You're dead, dead, dead. No song can awaken that which is dreaming the endless dream.

"Remember those, err, carnal desires? The song causes you to lose your mind in this way, too. It is all very undignified. And, to make the matters worse, the sharasha also attract predators with their singing voices! It seems that they enjoy listening to the birds, so they protect them. As you can probably imagine," Iskra cleared her throat, "hunting such creatures while you're so... hmm, distracted, isn't a good idea. Many good women lost their lives to the folly. Do we truly have to water the tree of their union with blood, Verity? Is that a wedding custom, too? I have to admit, I'm not seeing the point."

 

[starboob]

♕ PRINCESS VERITY (EXILED) ♕​

Verity had no expectations of stealing the captain for the entirety of the wedding and would have understood if her women would have wanted a chance to dance with their captain––she is, after all, quite handsome and so light on her feet that the princess would not have blamed anyone for wanting in on the experience. It would have been selfish of her to request exclusive access to Iskra; even while it is something she wants, she would not dare impose on the pirate's fun. But then, of her own volition, the pirate offers. Not only that, but she promises that she will be Verity's for that evening and that sentence is a song she would not mind having stuck in her head. 'I shall be yours, I shall be yours, I shall be yours,' she repeats to herself, finding it hard to concentrate on anything else the pirate has to say as that sentence is like a stadium cry in her mind. (Once, the pirate had offered herself to Verity. Once, very early in their friendship, she had promised herself to Verity after the princess had agreed to help her find the wayfinder. She had said, "From this day until my last day, I am yours." Then, once, she had asked Verity to be hers, "for no princess has ever been mine. Would you like that?" How that question, that small question inspired by wine and the hot air around them, filled her with so much joy she could have sent herself to the moon without a rocket. And for a few weeks, a princess and a pirate belonged to one another. Tainted weeks, they must have been, for the tragedy that severed their cosmic connection could not have occurred without rot. Her own rot, specifically, that nearly cost her the pirate. "I was yours, after all," Iskra had said, and she had every right to end their connection then and there.) While the princess does not get ahead of herself in imagining what this could mean, as she understand it is only a temporary agreement for the wedding festivities alone, she cannot help but wonder what it shall feel like to be Iskra's once again. To have Iskra once again. If it will feel different than before? And if it is, and if it is still good, will she be able to make the promise last longer than an evening?

Blinking several times to clear away her inner wonderings, she refocuses her gaze on Iskra, enough to catch the rest of what she is saying before she will end up lost in the conversation. "Likewise, I shall be yours alone for the evening," she whispers while her heart thunders in her chest, for some reason more nervous for the wedding than she had been prior. Perhaps because it feels like a test to her––not even one that Iskra is administering, as she knows this is one only built in her mind. She only wants to show Iskra what it might be like to have her again. Even as she realizes that her hopes may be the Death of her soon. That, however, can be a problem for a later version of herself. "I shall be honored to take part in such a tradition," and since the pirate seems to have assumed her usual bashfulness, she adds, "and I have heard that one's heart can never lead you astray. So I'm sure your conversation with yours will be most illuminating."

As the topic of conversation changes, Verity most certainly picks up on Iskra's pleading look; the one that suggests that the princess is aligning herself with crazed adrenaline junkies. Naturally, the princess ignores the silent plea. It's not that she likes causing Iskra to worry, it's simply that this is a part of the wedding traditions of Saavika's people and the princess would be remiss were she not to honor them. Besides, hunting is in the blood of her island people. True, Verity can count on both hands how many Times she has gone out on such excursions, but each of those Times had been with great success. Frankly, she just doesn't think there are creatures more fearsome than the giant boars that trample the Wilds. (Even the arctic tigers she had helped hunt in that ice village had not been so formidable. At least their skin was soft, easy to puncture, and not hardened to leather.)

"A bird?" she repeats, sounding almost incredulous, but she waits for the pirate's further explanation. She knows that Iskra would not fret over nothing so there must be more to this bird than she currently knows. Curious, she tilts her head and when the pirate's cheeks turn into roses, she leans in closer as she is certain this must be a sweet piece of information. Oh, and Iskra does not disappoint. (Silently, she wonders if it would be appropriate for her to hunt for a sharasha for her own wedding as it sounds... most delectable and she is curious about these properties. In fact, she is almost jealous that this gets to be the tradition among Saavika's people. Though, knowing her own kin, she can imagine that were an animal like the sharasha to exist on her planet, they surely would have hunted the creatures to extinction.) A wide smile breaks across Verity's features, growing wider and wider with each new detail that Iskra's adds. "Oh, come now, captain. You cannot tell me that you are afraid of a little distraction? Are you not the one who taught me that to be a great swordswoman I will have to not let distraction get in the way of Victory?" Verity certainly will never forget that lesson. In that, she also believes she has experience fighting with pleasure overwhelming her senses. (If only she also remembered that she had not actually learned anything from that lesson other than that she wanted more of Iskra than she's ever gotten.)

"This will be an excellent way to test what I have learned as there is no experience better than Life experience," she nods, probably not easing the pirate's nerves with how cavalierly she speaks on this. It does, after all, appear that she is severely underestimating just what they are up against. "I, for one, see no greater honor than hunting this bird and overcoming her song, all to ensure that her flesh is sacrificed in exchange for a cosmic consummation. After all, Iskra, you do realize how important the wedding night is, right?" It's hard to tell whether she is purposefully trying to get a reaction out of Iskra or if she is being genuine. It's likely both. "Whether or not you see the point in this does not take away its sacredness. Besides, carnal desires, as you say," she teases, "have never once gotten in the way of my cognitive capabilities," she finishes, with not a hint of irony.

 

[Syntra]

A little distraction. A little distraction! By the Shade, did Verity have any idea what she was saying here? The potency of the song they were about to face was legendary-- it was said, by Saavika’s people, that one of the goddesses from their pantheon had fallen in love with the first sharasha, and given her own voice to the bird. Now, guess what the goddess ruled over? Why, of course, it was love! “Verity,” Iskra said, not even attempting to hide her weariness, “I’m afraid you know not how dire the situation is. The stories circulating among my peers… it is bad. Truly, truly bad. There have been cases where even nemeses fell under the song’s spell, so they… ah. You can imagine what happened, I am certain. Surely you would not wish for something like that to occur solely to satisfy a whim of Saavika’s?” …on the other hand, though, perhaps the princess wanted exactly that. The likes of Osmunda came to her mind, and the woman that had come to watch Verity hunt, and… and countless others, probably. (Now that Iskra remembered the veritable sea of faces, she, um, had to wonder how Verity fared now. As in, she hadn’t courted anyone aboard Inure, had she? The well of her desire might have dried out, the pirate supposed, but for some reason, that didn’t seem right. Was she suffering from withdrawal symptoms, then? Somewhere, she had heard that love was akin to a drug-- that, much like chocolate, it made you crave more and more and more, in pursuing those endless highs. A sad fate, truly. If that was true, her heart truly went out to the princess! …for some reason, though? For some reason, it still seemed better than Verity, you know, secretly romancing someone. To have to look at Eran, or Ylna, or Myrne, even, and wonder what exactly was going on behind the closed door? To torture herself with the fantasies of the sweet noises Verity must have made, upon being pleased? No, thank you! Iskra would rather eat glass.)

…ah, Shade help her. Verity was looking at her like that, you know? With her eyes full of stars, and her lips curled up in a smirk. A single glance told her that not only she wasn’t taking this seriously, but that she also couldn’t wait to fling herself off the edge of this particular abyss. Why? Why, why, why? Was there perhaps gold, glittering at the bottom? Did the princess enjoy the free fall, without thinking of what awaited her at the bottom? …and why, oh why, was the prospect of being dragged down with her not so terrible? Appealing, even? No. Stop. Certain things have been buried for a reason. What shall you gain from opening that coffin? Do you wish to see that rotting corpse, as opposed to just knowing it’s there? Because, no, Iskra couldn’t possibly find anything else! Corpses, you see, didn’t grow-- they were just food for worms, maggots and other filthy things that might have it. …things even filthier than her, really.

“Fine, fine,” the pirate capitulated. “I didn’t expect to find an ally in you, anyway. I was aware, from the very beginning, that this mission had your name on it.” How not, after all? Verity was Verity, and her Verity-ness was why Iskra… um, enjoyed her presence. (That wasn’t a sinful thing to admit, was it? Camaraderie was something their leaders had encouraged, even among Seeds, and so it couldn’t possibly be another source of corruption. From friendship, success sprang! And Iskra knew, with utter certainty, that that was all she felt for the other woman. …her heart, you see, was barren. A blackened, empty thing, barely capable of holding together. ‘You do realize how important the wedding night is, right?’ Verity had asked, and sure, on some level, she did understand! In the same way she understood the concept of gravity, or perhaps the process of evolution in which all the living things had been shaped. And how, pray tell, did she conceptualize those? As facts, discovered by worthier people. Truths that she just had to accept, for there was no way for her to confirm whether they were true or not. When a worm heard tales of flight, it had no choice but to believe the bird, didn’t it? With Iskra, it wasn’t all that different.) “I won’t make you come up with other defenses, Verity. A good leader recognizes when she doesn’t have the support of her crew, and I can tell you are all itching to hunt the blasted bird. Very well, then. I hope that you accept the responsibility when things inevitably go awry, though. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

As always, the stars showed them the way-- or rather, the navigation system did, along with its compasses and sensors, but Iskra liked to think that wasn’t all there was to it. No, there was something… hmm, comforting, perhaps? Yes, comforting! In thinking the stars to be a gate, and that gate opening, opening, opening in order to welcome them. (It gave her the illusion, perhaps, that all of this meant something. That there was some grand fate in store for them, and she, like a marionette hanging on its strings, was just following it. Her life so far may not have made sense, but one day, this hope promised, it would. Was that alone not worth it? To one whose worth could be measured by grains of sand, at the very least.)

Far, far sooner than Iskra would have liked, Inure was about to land, and that meant they had to face the horror of the sharasha. “It is a bit tricky,” the pirate explained as the ship touched the ground, “for the song is one of the few ways to locate the bird. Remember the bit about its feathers glimmering like gold? Well, they can suppress that ability at will. You cannot rely on your sight to be able to find them, for they can blend in with the environment as well. Simply put, you, ah, have to listen. Regardless of the effects.” And when the door opened, and the bridge rolled out? They were greeted by the sight of a jungle, wild and lush and green.

 

[starboob]

♕ PRINCESS VERITY (EXILED) ♕​

Following their conversation on the sharasha, Verity does try to take the captain's concerns more seriously. While she does think that the pirate has a tendency to worry over nothing, especially when it comes to the princess's safety as if she is some glass flower, she doesn't believe that this is an example of one of those exaggerated reactions. There is something in Iskra's eyes that tell the princess to take her seriously this Time. However, despite her efforts to remain cautious she cannot deny her excitement as Inure descends into the planet's atmosphere. It bubbles and bursts in her chest and causes her to rock on her heels as she bows over the railing to get closer to the planet, as if tugging herself down will make the ship's descent any faster. It probably had not helped that only an hour or so ago she had started a contest of sorts among the crew over who had the best, most wild story of an intimate affair. (Her own story of having a hand up her dress during a briefing with her former queen may have only ranked due to the high stakes, for some of those other stories put her to shame; just who knew there could be women more shameless than the princess?) Naturally, that fed into a pipeline of jests over what they may experience once they hear the first notes of the sharasha's song, and while the jokes were layered with serious warning, it did little to get anyone to treat this with the same amount of gravity as the captain.

So to say the princess is nervous would be a lie. If she were truly wise she would have at least some nerves to remind her of not only the importance of this quest, but that there is danger involved in any kind of hunt. Even if just for a silly bird. Instead, she is still chattering on and on with their party as if they are about to embark on nothing more than a simple errand. As they get closer to making a landing, the princess goes to find Iskra with her cheeks sore from all her smiling and laughter. "Ah, what a most glorious day for us to hunt. The pantheon of this planet has graced us with good weather," she notes, gripping the hilts of her two blades as the ship brushes against the lush jungle as they make to land.

When the bridge rolls itself out, the princess would have dashed ahead to get a smell of the foliage and feel the sun on her skin, but Iskra catches her before the impulse can take over; that, at least, gives her an extra second to remind herself that not all foliage is friendly and she ought to follow the lead of those who actually know more about the planet than she does. She sighs and shifts her attention to yet another warning, managing to withhold the urge to roll her eyes. "I had wondered why not just plug our ears, but I figured it was to be part of the challenge of conquering a sharasha," she admits as she walks down the ramp into the trees. Though she can hear several birds chirping and chiming through the dense brush, none inspire carnal desire, as the captain had put it. Even so early into their adventure, she had sort of thought the forest would be a cacophony of sharasha, for some reason. She realizes that is a foolish expectation to have and now the anticipation is sending her over the edge––what does the song really sound like? How will it affect her? Will she be truly unable to control her inhibitions that she might, say, proposition Ylna if she were the closest woman to her at the Time of the sharasha's strike? Even though she would be wise to be wary, these thoughts only add an extra layer of liveliness to her stride. (Not because she wants to have an excuse to have a try at Ylna or anyone other than Iskra, mind you. No, she is simply curious if such arousal would feel as genuine.)

She pulls Gwenwyn from her sheath and cuts through the brush that blocks their path, pushing deeper and deeper into the jungle until they eventually lose sight of the ship behind them. Insects swarm through the air, adding to the birds' melody with their rhythmic 'zz zz-zzz zzz-zz,' while also feasting on their flesh––much to the annoyance of the princess, who almost smacks herself in the face trying to get one of the nuisances off of her. She turns to her favored companion, "Iskra, how do you think you might try to counter the effects of the sharasha's song? I imagine there has to be a certain level of mental fortitude that allows one to overcome such a song and successfully slay the bird. What tools might you use to suppress such carnal desires?" Now, is the princess asking because she needs pointers or because she wonders if Iskra has even dealt with such desires? To the latter point, the captain does claim to be dead, despite being so lively, that the princess wonders how much of her is dead. Is it just her hopes? Or does it reach further than that?

"I must say, I've never really found any tricks that have worked for myself," she admits. Most often she has heard to imagine a dead animal or something equally horrific and, well, admittedly those images do get Verity out of her moods. However, she hates conjuring such images and so why would she, even to get rid of desire? It's too unpleasant to think about and so she would rather wait out the tide than anything else. She figures, however, that such a tactic will not work where the sharasha is concerned. (She may need to let go of her qualms of picturing unpleasant images. It's not as though she doesn't have a plethora to draw from.) "What is your experience hunting these birds, captain?"

Overhead, the trees rustle and Verity gets the idea that they are being watched from many different angles though she cannot see any of the friends lurking in the bushes. It's enough to trigger her nerves and put her more in the mindset of a hunter than a woman who is too curious for her own good. She raises her blade as her eyes scan the perimeter, watching for any clues of where danger may very well be lurking. Then, she hears the faintest sound of a star singing, growing louder as the seconds pass or maybe it's that Verity is walking closer to the noise? Hm, she cannot be too certain as she only wants to hear the song that seems to promise something, so if she is walking closer then so be it to her. As the song becomes clearer in the air, heat flushes through her belly in a familiar swirl that sweeps even lower––she forgets about the sharasha, even if it has been the only topic on her mind since discovering its properties, finding that release is paramount. The second her eyes cut over to Iskra? There is the urge to devour her.

 

[Syntra]

Throughout her life, for as long as she could remember, certain questions had always plagued the captain. ‘Who am I? ‘Where am I walking?’ ‘Why am I here, even?’ Recently, however, an entirely new set of concerns had arisen from the depths of her mind-- new worries that would gnaw, gnaw, gnaw at her at night, with teeth that were sharper than knives. And, the most pressing one of them? The most pressing one of them, at least at the moment, was this: ‘What kind of life decisions have led me to this point?’ ‘This point’, of course, being defined as ‘Verity asking her for her carnal desires management strategies.’ Just, ugh! Did she have no concept of privacy? In her world, was there no wall separating herself from other people? (Iskra’s world, on the other hand, was nothing but walls. Walls, and barbed wire, and doors, locked three times over-- if nobody crossed the obstacles, you see, they wouldn’t know her. And, really, was there any refuge for her aside from the shroud of ambiguity? They could suspect her of being a wretch, yes, but as long as they didn’t get to confirm it, the pirate could dwell in that grey ‘what if’ zone. What if she was just shy? What if she just didn’t know how to talk to people? What if her claws, glistening with blood, were only ever used to protect? …ah, yes, yes. Truly, monsters thrived from questions not even being asked, much less answered.)

Verity, though. To Verity, it seemed, the obstacles were not even there-- perhaps wings sprouted from her back if she willed it so, and then she flew, flew, flew, right where Iskra stood. (How did the princess always know where to go, exactly? How did she find her weak spots so easily? The pirate would have liked to think she was a fortress, tall and invulnerable, but somehow, somehow Verity always pushed at the right spot. Aargh, if only Iskra could disappear! Close her eyes, perhaps, and pretend that her surroundings went away, along with her vision. …too bad it didn’t work that way, though.) With her cheeks sufficiently flushed, the pirate looked away. “I, uh, don’t suffer from such afflictions. I did tell you that I am dead, didn’t I? And death does not welcome life, Verity. Not in this way, and not in many others. I will never hear that call.” (…not that she wanted to, mind you. From what Iskra had heard, having to deal with these feelings was a hassle-- much like having to walk against the wind, and oh, did wind like to whip you! Having to ignore your instincts constantly, and pretend that their voice wasn’t even there? That your ears were deaf to the promises of sweetness? Such a cruel, cruel fate! It was one thing to have to wear physical chains, but being the prisoner of your own mind, and all the scenarios it painted for you… No, Iskra wasn’t envious of Verity. If she could choose, of her own volition, whether to feel or not to feel, she would choose this dead husk, each and every time. Convenience, as the pirate had learned, was everyone’s goddess! Regardless of which one they worshiped officially.)

“No need to pity me, though,” she added, perhaps too quickly for it to sound entirely genuine. “I have never known such desires, so I know not what I was robbed of. Could you truly miss, for example, a relative you had never met? You can feel bad about, say, not having a mother, but you cannot miss her as a person because, to you, she might as well have never existed. With my condition, it’s similar. Kind of like… being born without a limb, I suppose? When you emerge from your mother’s womb like that, it is your default. Your normal. You learn to exist like this, for there has never been another choice. It’s live or perish, Verity. Is it any wonder that so many choose the former? Although…” Iskra finally glanced at the princess, “I do wonder about it sometimes, I have to admit. About what it is truly like. Desires overriding your judgment, I mean. I, ah, have heard songs, of course, and have read stories, but am I to believe that there is no romanticization going on? That what is being presented to me is the truth, pure and unfiltered? Because I don’t. I just don’t think, ultimately, that the truth can be found in this… in this confusing mix of different perspectives. But what about you, Verity? What do you feel when your heart is set on fire? Suddenly, I find myself… um, most intrigued.” And no, that wasn’t at all caused by the sweet notes of the sharasha song reaching her ears! Nuh uh. (The fact that fog descended her mind, and made it so difficult to think? Pure coincidence, Iskra was sure. That sort of thing always happened while traveling to different planets, due to, uh, the differences in atmospheric pressure. It made sense, as long as you didn’t think about it too hard! And, ah, that she was suddenly acutely aware of the princess’s closeness? That every sway of her hips seemed like an invitation, and every word from her lips twisted itself into something, hmmm, suggestive? Well, that couldn’t be the sharasha’s doing-- the bird had no power over Iskra’s soul, so to even suspect that would have been ridiculous. Just, hahaha! …was it just her, or did it get hotter for some reason? Odd, considering that the temperatures in this type of biome didn’t tend to change that fast.)

“Stay alert Verity,” she said, her voice low and husky. “Something is afoot, I can tell. Perhaps we should, ah, stick together?” Because, for some reason, remaining in the princess’s vicinity seemed like an Important Thing! (She was nice and warm, and undoubtedly soft, too, and Iskra just had to wonder whether some of that warmth would transfer over to her, if she just reached out. …the pirate also, ah, had thoughts of different nature, but let’s disregard those, shall we? It wasn’t like those would be allowed to lead anywhere.) So, without thinking, Iskra brushed her fingers against the princess’s! …which was when she noticed her hungry, hungry eyes. “Ve-Verity? Are you alright?”

 

[starboob]

♕ PRINCESS VERITY (EXILED) ♕​

It's surprising how quickly her mind succumbs to the sharasha's song and, at the same Time, it does not even seem to concern the princess. Or, to more accurately put it, she has not yet realized that this is the bird's effect. It's not that she suffers from bouts of sudden and overwhelming arousal taking over her system, with such ferocity that it feels as though she is made of pure toe-curling electricity––not at all, she merely is just too drunk on herself to think clearly enough to realize that something is, in fact, very wrong. Though how can it be wrong if it feels so right? Sure, there is the issue that her mind literally can think of no other thing than her urge to bed with someone––even the damn queen or Halen or Myrne–– anyone, really, would suffice so long as they are a partner who can take her over the cliff's edge she is on. She will not deny herself this joy by being selective. Besides, as she recalls, it has admittedly been a while since she has taken someone to bed with her, so why not remedy this now? Out here, in Nature? Would that not be a most Beautiful way to celebrate the union of bodies and lips? To break this dry spell?

The princes, ever shameless, does not even bother hiding that such carnal desires are taking over her. She never has before so it is unlikely she would do so just because the sharasha song is worming it's way into her very veins. Even just the mere brush of Iskra's fingers against her own skin sends a storm of lightning through her blood. Who knew that such a chaste touch could feel so cosmic? The coil in her belly grows tighter, more desperate, and she wonders what it would be like to have the captain ravaging her body with her touch alone. The small action doesn't just cause the princess to gasp in surprise, she practically moans at the mere contact! She's so desperate for any semblance of affection, for fingers, tongues, lips, to run around her skin and leave no piece of her uncharted, that even the meager brush against her bare skin drives her absolutely wild.

She looks at the captain through a half-lidded gaze, biting her lower lip. "Oh, Iskra? You want to know what such Desires feel like?" she asks, her voice low and sultry while the faintest glimmer of a smile pulls at her lips. Her eyes quickly flit down to Iskra's lips, then lower, openly admiring the pirate's physique. "I can show you, you know. It would be my greatest honor to see if I can, hm, breathe some Life into you." She licks her lips, as if debating just how she wants Iskra. She imagines herself pushing Iskra against the tree, pressing their bodies together, running her hands up the other woman's shirt... Oh what it would be like to have her lips wrapped around the pirate's most forbidden recesses. So hungry she is just to have a taste of the pirate that she cannot stop her swelling thoughts; thoughts that threaten to kill her if she does act soon. "I can assure you that no word of mine shall ever illuminate you on this matter, but perhaps I can make other uses of my mouth?" she suggests, tilting her head to the side while her eyes continue to undress the pirate. She takes the pirate's hand, then, and pulls her backwards.

The intention might have been to see what it would be like to press the pirate up against a tree, except that then a green jungle cat with black spots, two tails, and spines sticking out of its back jumps out from the thick brush. It's enough to startle the princess, causing her to let go of Iskra while she figures out what has interrupted them, much to her annoyance. However, despite the need to be aware and alert to danger, she does not seem as concerned as she would have been were the aching sensation between her legs not making it impossible to focus on anything else. In fact, rather than draw her sword and charge the agitated animal, she merely shrugs once she has spotted the predator and looks back at Iskra. "Shall we find a more private venue for this affair?" she whispers, giggling like there is not a predator about to pounce.

Regardless of what Verity wants or how Iskra will even respond, the green cat sort of takes care of where their attention should be focused as it leaps into the air towards them. The princess, seeing this sudden movement, rolls to the side to dodge the attack. 'Of all the days and Times to interrupt me! Just why does this cat just now decide that she is hungry? Surely there is some entity out there trying to spite me,' she thinks, royally annoyed that her attempt at Iskra is being interrupted. Still, it's going to be somewhat difficult to get anywhere if they are mauled by a wildcat. Almost reluctantly, the princess draws her weapon––or, rather, attempts to as she drops it, so distracted by the tingling sensations spreading throughout her body that even gripping her sword is an ordeal.

 

[Syntra]

Well, did she want to know? Did she? Certainly, curiosity had its merits-- that desire to know, you see, to know everything there was to know, was the driving vehicle of progress. Where would they have been now, had daring women not looked up to the skies one day, and said: 'I want to fly,'? Where, hmm? In the caves, probably, seeking warmth from bonfires. Clad in animals hides they would have been, and also wrapped in their own ignorance, and... and at the mercy of the gods, for the human body was frail. (Their teeth weren't sharp like those of lions, nor did they have the swiftness of the antelope at their disposal. Weak they were, oh yes, and their only advantage? The very thing that had allowed them to stand at the top of the food chain? Being able to pause and think, deeply, about why things were the way they were. Why was the sky blue? Why did the sun always rose in one direction, and set in the other? Why, why, why? The word was small, one of the smallest in their language, but ah, was it powerful. Like a dagger stuck in the enemy's back!) So, no, surely, there wasn't anything rotten in her thirst for knowledge. There couldn't be. With her, ah, passion for research, Iskra was honoring the traditions of her ancestors-- all those brave women, who weren't afraid to explore the unexplored. The pioneers, in the other words. In order to dispel the darkness, they'd set themselves on fire, and the pirate now got to walk in their footsteps.

'A false equivalence,' the voice of her conscience said. 'You know that's not what this is. Liar, liar, liar! The one who deceives herself will surely do that to others, too. Are you willing to drag your own name through mud, Iskra? And for what? Just to have something you were never entitled to have?' The words were muffled, though, and she only heard them from a great distance-- a distance too great for her heart, it seemed, for it was hard to take them seriously. (Blah blah blah, duty, blah blah blah, honor. What was that worth, truly, in comparison with the promise of another's warmth? Very little, Iskra was finding out. One couldn't feed herself on glory! That was just shadows, and tricks that your own eyes played on you, but Verity... Verity was real, along with her lips. What would it be like, to have them map her skin? To lay beneath her, and... and then what, exactly? Iskra's mind didn't know where to take it from there, really, but the heat pooling in her stomach was insistent, and it guided her to grab the princess's hand. Perhaps it would guide her to their next destination, too? Wherever it was, the pirate knew it would be, ah, delicious.)

"Do you believe you could pull of such a feat, Verity?" Iskra whispered, her voice hoarse. (The last time she had hoped so, it had been a kiss of death that she'd received instead, but the memory seemed all but forgotten now, unimportant in the grand scheme of things. Ah, was her head spinning! Verity's scent, her closeness, everything about her, truly-- how had she ever managed to exist in her presence, without slamming her against the wall?) "Show me, then. Show me that you are a woman of your word. Words are wind, you see, and I cannot believe you till you back them up with actions. I wonder," she leaned closer, her lips practically touching the princess's ear, "can you make me tremble? No-one ever has ever done that before, but you've claimed many, many of my firsts." It would be easy to reach after her, to let her hand slip beneath her gown, and...

Ah, of course. Audibly, the pirate groaned in irritation-- the stupid cat simply had to appear in this very moment, and shatter the atmosphere to pieces. Why did the Shade hate her so? Did she not deserve a few hours of peace with her princess? For those, Iskra had paid and paid and paid, with her blood and tears, too, but nooo, apparently it wasn't enough. It never was! Always, always they demanded more-- as long as there was a spark of life left within her, the leeches would crawl towards her and beg, in those annoying voices. 'Give, Iskra. Give, give, give!' But, you know what? She was done with that. Pirates were famous for taking whatever they wanted, dammit, and now... oh, she knew exactly what that was. Who that was! Never before had she seen that with such staggering clarity, but Shade had been kind enough to re-light the embers in her chest, and those? Oh, those illuminated her path to happiness now. "Worry not, my sweet," Iskra said before reaching for her sword. "I shall defeat this villain. Nothing can stand between us. Not even death itself!"

The cat circled her, like a predator would circle her prey, but that only showed the depths of its delusion. A predator? A prey? Pffft! You could describe their relationship that way, Iskra supposed, but it was the other way around-- in this whole jungle, there wasn't a scarier thing than her. Her, the undying menace! The cat snarled, revealing a row of sharp teeth, and then... then it pounced, faster than Iskra's own shadow. The problem with that, though? The pirate had expected it, so her blade had been waiting there. It was so fast, really, that the cat didn't even have the time to cry out. The sword bit its flesh, split it apart with the force of its own jump, and just like that, blood was raining from the sky. So, so much of it! Enough to fill an entire ocean, seemingly.

"This," Iskra declared dramatically, "is what shall happen to all of your enemies. Women or beasts, or beasts in women's bodies-- it matters not, for I will bring you their heads all the same. What do you say, Verity?" 'How shall you reward me?' something else wanted her to say, but ah, that would have been so, so crude. No, better let her say it on her own!

 

[starboob]

♕ PRINCESS VERITY (EXILED) ♕​

"Most dashing captain Iskra," the princess gasps, watching with wide eyes as the pirate steps in her place to face their shared foe. (How often has she dreamed of a such a scenario? A handsome heroine coming to rescue a poor princess, one too inexperienced to hold her own straight––it is easily her most favorite trope. Once, she even mistakenly thought she had been privileged enough to live a reenactment of the folktale about rainbows; though it had not ended happily. However, now, she sees that she has been given another chance to see that tale through to a happy ending. Oh, she is just sure of it––for her heart beats for no other and the coil in her belly cannot be sprung without the most honorable captain.) Her salacious desires continue to bloom, even while threats of danger impede on her ability to pounce and show Iskra that she is most certainly a woman of her word; she'll spell it out with her tongue if she must. She will do so quite happily as there is no thought more pleasing than ravaging the captain until she is but mere putty in her hands. (Oh, to have her whimper and gasping under her experienced touch, with her mouth open in the most please 'O' shape; perhaps, she will breathe Verity's name into the air? Or will she cry it out? Who will be her divinity for the hours they shall share tangled together?)

The pirate returns her, Victory hanging above her head and giving her a crown of light––or perhaps Verity is beginning to lose her sense of reality the more and more her aches go unaddressed––and blood splattered across her clothes. "My enemies shall someday be wise enough to never cross the exiled princess and her fearsome protector, captain Iskra," she says, straightening herself as she looks over the pirate. She steps closer to her, examining her, admiring her; she reaches out to caress the pirate's cheek before her hand falls to her shoulder and she grabs the captain, pulling her closer until their bodies are flush together. "And I shall be forever grateful that our stars placed us together," she whispers into the shell of Iskra's ear while her hands make fists around the hem of her shirt, eager to explore new uncharted territory. She then pushes the captain roughly against a tree, keeping their bodies flush, and placing her leg between Iskra's, "You shall be pleasurably rewarded, my captain."

Though, just as before, the pair are interrupted once more. This time not by a cat, but some other animal entirely––actually, a whole slew of them. At first, Verity doesn't notice––far more invested in watching Iskra come undone with her careful ministrations. However, it becomes rather difficult to ignore as the cacophony of grunts and screeches, that suddenly surround them and sound as though they're coming from above, drown out all other sound. Annoyed, the princess stops what she is doing and looks up only to see a troop of monkeys with crazed eyes, ready to swoop on the entangled pair and rip them to shreds.

She curses under her breath, pulling away from the pirate for what must be the hundredth interruption. This Time, however, she does manage to draw her sword without dropping it. "Iskra, do you recall what we have done to earn such misery?" she asks, pressing her back against the pirate's own. She knows that even as skilled a fighter as Iskra is, there is no way she can justify letting her fight this battle alone. Not with the dozens of eyes staring at them and screeching so loud that the song that had set the mood for this private rendezvous is drowned out and the princess can barely hear herself think. Though with the sharasha's song drowned out, the fog slowly starts to leave her brain and her desires begin to lessen; her vision becomes less hazed and she starts to return to her more sensible nature. Perhaps, if there were more Time to process fully what is happening, the princess would have felt embarrassed about her conduct or even shared this revelation with her companion, but as it is she must focus on the throng of monkeys that jump from the trees towards them.

With her poison blade, Gwenwyn, she slices into one primate's stomach and pivots in Time to catch the other's arm, sending poison into their veins. Naturally, the ones still perched up above are hurling rocks down at the two women to aide the ones who jump down to directly attack them. "What are we even doing here, Iskra?" she groans, as she sends her blade into another animal while dodging... feces. (Apparently, the aforementioned rocks were only the princess's wishful thinking.) In all honesty, Verity's mind is still foggy trying to remember exactly what had sent them into the heart of the jungle. Vaguely, she knows it had something to do with the wedding.

 

[Syntra]

Ah! Who knew that the touch of another could be imbued with electricity? Iskra hadn't, but that truth was revealed to her now-- the sparks traveled down her spine, dancing their crazed dance, and headed lower, lower, lower, far into the depths of her belly. (Never before had she tasted this fruit, the captain knew. And to think she'd only had the smallest of bites! A mere caress, as fleeting as a morning dew, and yet, yet it had torn her world apart. What, then, would happen if she let the touch linger? If she allowed Verity to take what she wanted? Because Verity did want her-- the hunger in her eyes was that of a wolf, and wolves were always eager for more, more, more. Just, how would this end? With her body reduced to cinders? With her flesh burnt, and her bones charred? The heat was suggesting that, no, she couldn't take this much longer, but the thing was... well, Iskra didn't mind. Not really. In one way or another, flames had always been her fate-- to destroy, and be destroyed in return. To give others warmth, yes, but only through giving, giving, giving herself away. Fire always required sustenance, you know? Paper or wood or flesh, if need be, and Iskra's flesh... well, it had never really belonged to her, anyway. Rather than throw away someone with a future, it made sense to sacrifice the empty husk! ...except, you see, the pirate didn't feel empty now. So, so full she was that she was about to burst, and, again? It struck her as a good thing. A glorious thing, in fact. Something that her entire life had been leading up to, perhaps, without her knowing-- a silvery thread of destiny, gleaming in the darkness. A silvery thread that, as it turned out, was attached to Verity's wrist!)

"Ah," Iskra moaned when she ended up pressed against a tree, and, even more importantly, into the princess. (Was it a coincidence that their bodies seemed to fit so well together, like two pieces of the same puzzle? ...maybe it was time to stop believing in coincidences, truly. Whether it had been the stars, the Shade, or some sinister entity pulling strings, they were clearly meant to end up like this-- holding onto each other, and the last remains of their sanity. ...one of those would get dropped at some point, for her hands couldn't carry both, but you know what she also knew? That Verity wouldn't be the one to get discarded. Oh no, no, no.) "S-shall I?" her voice was trembling, much like a fly caught in a spider's web, except that this fly was there willingly. "Make it worth my while, then. I want to, ah, remember this. Carve this moment into my bones if you have to, Verity. Take me. Take me, before..." ....before something else had the chance to, really. Something very, very specific, that had promised to do so years ago. Even now, Iskra could feel its presence, and she didn't want to-- she only wanted Verity, and her lips and touches and whatever she was willing to bless her with. Ah, if crumbs from her table was the only thing she could spare, the pirate would lap them up! ...along with, uh, other things. Damn.

It seemed it was not to be, though. Perhaps her thoughts had offended the Shade, or the local gods, in their petty cruelty, had decided to paint targets on their backs-- never would she find out the true reason, and it wasn't like it mattered. No, one didn't have to know why the monkeys had come to see them as the threat they were! And, just, what were they... no, better not to think about to. "Retreat," Iskra pulled on the princess's sleeve. "There are too many of them. Too many for the two of us!" That they weren't carnivorous could lull you into a false sense of safety, but think of, say, hippos-- those didn't crave flesh, either, and yet only a fool would underestimate them. Now, did you believe that monkeys were less dangerous because of their size? Oh, the size of their packs more than made up for it. "Let us find a private place. A place where we can..." continue what we started "...think in peace." Think about all the things Iskra wanted to do to her, and things she wanted to be done to her, and, and, and!!!! Without further explanations, the pirate wrapped her arm around Verity's waist. A single push of a button activated her grappling hook, and suddenly, they were flying between the trees-- never stopping long enough for it to be considered anything else, really. "I have to confess," Iskra said, "that I am not sure I can let you go. When we land, Verity, I am going to devour you. I hope you're prepared."

...what the pirate wasn't prepared for, and quite distinctly at that, was that the rope, uh, snapped. Probably hadn't been meant for two people, you know? Ah, curse this mess! They fell and fell and fell, for what seemed to be the whole eternity, really, and finally, with a wet splash, landed in... a swamp? With Iskra sitting atop of Verity, which she couldn't help but take advantage of via seizing her hands. "Perhaps I shall claim my reward in a different way," she whispered, her voice hoarse. "Do you like this, Verity? Being at my mercy?" Now if only Iskra could figure out what to do with the position! The heat was becoming unbearable, and she needed some kind of release, dammit, but as for how to reach it? Oh, that remained a mystery! A mystery that likely wouldn't be solved any time soon, mostly because crocodiles were beginning to emerge from the murky waters.

"Oh, by the Shade," the captain groaned. Swiftly, she helped Verity stand up, and... "Wait. Can you hear it? The song." The ever-present song, whose tones had sunk into her brain like a hot knife into butter. The sweetest of melodies! "It's getting louder, isn't it?" And, indeed, when Iskra looked up, she glimpsed the shimmering feathers-- on one of the tree branches, too high for them to reach, the blasted sharasha was sitting. "Ah! I remember now. We were meant to catch it, Verity. We were meant to kill it, but, oh, to hell with everything. How to get there?" With her grappling hook gone, Iskra had essentially lost the access to her plan A! And, uh, the plan B didn't exist.

 

[starboob]

♕ PRINCESS VERITY (EXILED) ♕​

'Damn,' the princess thinks as Iskra grabs her waist and slings them through the trees. While the fog has somewhat started to clear from her head, being held by the pirate certainly does not help keep the fog at bay. Instead, even without the sharasha's song to distract her, her pulse feels electric––especially when the pirate makes a promise to devour her as soon as they land. Which, apparently, will be sooner than intended as the rope snaps and sends them crashing landing into a swamp. The princess groans on impact under the weight of Iskra, but when the captain takes advantage of their new position, she doesn't exactly mind and seems to even forget about the Pain spreading across her shoulders. She bites her lip and looks up at the pirate through half-lidded gaze, "Ravage me, if that is the reward you seek. I am at your mercy and I can think of no better way to reward your daring actions. Take me. I am yours, my captain."

But of course, as has been the pattern, they are interrupted by more predators who are insistent on preventing the pirate and princess from enjoying each other! Just why? What has Verity done to deserve such denial?! Rather reluctantly, she takes Iskra's hand and hoists herself up, also noticing that the song is once more filling the air around them and much louder than before. (More powerful too, for Verity nearly forgets why they have gotten up and thinks it must be to change positions since she cannot image a romp in the swamp would be all too comfortable.) Thankfully, the captain turns her attention to the source of their problems before she can act on the urge to jump and wrap her legs around Iskra's waist.

Peering up into the trees towards the source of the song, Verity can make out the outline of the gilded bird, its feathers catching the sunshine that streams through the trees and glittering down onto herself and the pirate. The memories of her earlier excitement return to her in an instant and she's left stunned that she had managed to forget about their quest; though, now, she understands the danger of this bird's song and the captain's earlier worries.

Even closer to it now, it continues to drill into her mind and wraps shackles around all her thoughts––shackles that force her to think of undressing the captain and undressing for the captain. Even with the crocodiles looming in the water, opening their wide V-mouths and getting ready to clamp down on those who threaten their song bird, this is all that the princess can willingly think about. The effort it takes to pull her mind from such thoughts, now realizing just what is so wrong with these Desires, takes the same strength she would need to lift Inure. Though she knows, now, that she cannot risk distraction. (As much as she wants to. As much as she wants to pull an orchestra from the pirate's lips; to have her under her or to be under her; to know and have names for each inch of the captain's skin; to awaken those Desires that Iskra had been so convinced were broken or dead inside of her.)

With every ounce of her effort, she tears her starved eyes away from the source of her all her distractions and firmly holds onto her blade, focusing on both the crocodiles that snap around them, as well as the bird perched high up in the tree. Just like Iskra, she is not yet sure how they will reach the sharasha from where they stand right now. Had the princess thought to come a bit more prepared, perhaps she would have thought to bring a crossbow; however, if one really can picture the princess as an expert markswoman, when she is still years behind mastering the sword, then they would be sorely mistaken! (No, after one too many arrows sent into the palace windows, unsuspecting passersby, and so on the princess had been strongly encouraged to pursue a different instrument of defense.) So, no, the princess doesn't have a ranged weapon at her disposal, which should have been the type of weapon they brought to an excursion that involves hunting a bird. Yet somehow that detail escaped the princess (and perhaps the pirate as well if there is nothing on her person to shoot the blasted thing).

Of course, with her spikes at her disposal she could technically reach the bird––she would need to get closer, still, but it is possible. However, she also doesn't think it would be wise to poison game that is meant for consumption. No, she will have to think of a different solution, a difficult task when she is both forced to resist Desires she would rather give into (especially since the pirate had been so receptive to her earlier ministrations) and fight off the crocodiles that seem rather endless in number; hopping onto their backs and slicing through them seems to do nothing to deter them––perhaps they are more determined to protect their sharasha than Verity is determined to kill the damn thing. 'No, you mustn't think like that. This is for Eran and Saavika, remember? Think not of yourself and let that carve your path to Victory.'

She peers down at the utility belt Iskra had insisted she start wearing on their excursions following their run-in with Sebille's mercenaries, searching for an answer to their current dilemma. She doesn't quite remember what everything does or even what tools she had chosen to attach to the belt, but she is fairly certain the grenades are net grenades and not of the explosive variety (she just needs to remember if she picked those up from Saavika or Myrne). She grabs one of the devices and turns to her companion, "I'm reasonably certain these are net grenades. If I can toss one high enough I can capture the bird and at least stop it from moving." That of course, still leaves them with the issue of the crocodiles. She takes an aptly named lightning rod from her belt and hands it to the pirate. "Climb into the trees and toss this into the water. Meanwhile, I'll try to get close enough to the sharasha that I can capture her."

With that, the princess jumps across the crocodiles' backs, seeing a pathway that is only visible to herself, and launches herself onto one of the low hanging branches of the tree next to the sharasha. Thankfully, no opponents are waiting for her in the branches and she scales the trunk with the practice she had gained in her youth. 'Focus on the sharasha. Focus, Verity,' she reminds herself as she climbs higher and higher and the song infects her with increasing intensity. Gritting her teeth together and pushing through the fog, she reaches the last branch that will be able to hold her weight, just a few feet under the sharasha. With one arm wrapped around the tree, she carefully Balances on the branch and grips the small, plum-sized grenade and aims just above the bird. For a second she lets go over the tree and launches the grenade high into the air. The grenade blinks and then activates just above the target, opening to reveal a steel net (thankfully). The weights at the end of the net pull it down, capturing the sharasha, then twirl into a knot at the bottom preventing the bird's flight escape. That, uh, also sends the bagged prey falling down towards the swamp. "Iskra!"

 

[Syntra]

A soldier was married to her duty. Desiring anything else was pointless, Iskra knew-- a silly dream of a naïve girl, worth no more than the dust at her feet. Nothing more than an altar of a false goddess, really. (It would have been cute, perhaps, had she been about ten years younger. By now, though? By now, the pirate should have accepted her fate. The rose-tinted glasses suited her no longer, and looked ridiculous on a woman this rotten! Pink didn’t go well with the blood on her hands, you see, and… and it wasn’t like Iskra deserved to view the world like this, anyway. Not when she was one of the monsters whose very existence tainted it.) So, yes. Intellectually, the captain very much understood the hierarchy of things, and her place in it. She was to be an unyielding sword-- a silent sentinel, watching over the ruins she’d helped to create. No redemption could be found in such a service, of course, but at least it probably wouldn’t damn her further. A wretch like her couldn’t possibly hope for more, you know?

The problem with intellect, however, was that it, uh, abandoned you sometimes. (A fickle thing, wasn’t it? The crown jewel of their civilization, the very reason for its triumph, and yet, yet as fragile as a butterfly’s wings. Hunger, thirst or inebriation? All of those, and many other conditions, caused it to go down, down, down. You could snap your fingers, indeed, and watch your cognitive abilities plummet! And for Iskra… well, let’s say that for Iskra, that free fall was happening now.) Think of your mantras, she reprimanded herself. Desire is but a trap, designed to strangle you with your own thoughts. The most sinister of afflictions. But, oh, how did that mantra go? ‘In loneliness…’ In loneliness, what? Contentment? Clarity? Except that none of that, none of that fit! Never before, you see, had Iskra known with greater clarity what it was that she wanted-- hell, it felt as if she hadn’t even grasped what the verb ‘to want’ truly meant before. At the moment, though? Oh, her entire existence was reduced to it!

(Want, want, want. She wanted Verity to plead with her; to reveal herself to her as she was, without all those unnecessary layers; to melt under her touch. All of that the pirate wanted, and more than that, even! To go beyond that which her meager imagination offered… oh, that would have been so, so sweet. The fire in her belly would guide her, she knew, and even if it failed to? Verity was sure to seize what she desired, with her own hands. …ah. Wasn’t that an appealing mental image, too? The princess, oh so self-assured, showing her what needed to be done in order for her to be… hmm, satisfactory. Rewarding her for being a good student, too. Caressing her hair, maybe, and then slipping her hand beneath her-- No. No! What’s gotten into you, dammit? Focus! There are crocodiles! FOCUS! Just, what in the galaxy…?! Was she secretly hoping to become a crocodile snack? Such desires had never plagued Iskra’s mind before, but the same went for the whole Verity mess, and so she couldn’t be entirely sure. Ah, the dangers of subconsciousness!)

Biting the insides of her cheeks, the pirate attempted to gather her… well, let’s call them ‘thoughts,’ in the interest of being kind. “Alright. Alright, that, ah, sounds like a plan.” Not the kind of plan she wanted to hear, though. No, no, no! More than that, Iskra would have enjoyed to find out the order in which the princess would remove her clothes-- that, or perhaps all the ways in which she was about to touch her. They couldn’t do it now, that was plain to see, but did she not deserve an appetizer? A little motivation to survive this blasted encounter? You couldn’t jut… just set a candle on fire and pretend it hadn’t happened, dammit! …still, the crocodiles didn’t appear to have much empathy with her plight. The animals looked at her with beady, malicious eyes, and Iskra? Oh, Iskra recognized full well that she was about to be mauled. Needless to say, any encouragement to head for the trees was no longer needed. No, the pirate straight up bolted-- thank the Shade for the swiftness of her legs, truly, for she could swear she only dodged the hungry jaws narrowly a few times.

Meanwhile, Verity was facing her own brand of drama. Was Iskra paying attention? Well, not really-- between all that running and, you know, trying not to become these assholes’ dinner, she had very little mental capacity left for anything else. The trees. Just gotta reach the trees. C’mon, only a few meters…! And, indeed, when she reached for a branch, it felt like receiving a hung from the mother she had never known. Safety, at last! Safety, and also her name being called out.

It only took her a few seconds to assess the situation. The crocodiles, still stuck in the swamp; the sharasha, now falling into it as well; the chaos of it all. …well, they weren’t expected to bring the bird back alive, were they? That would have been madness, even for the likes of Eran and Saavika. So, with that in mind, the pirate simply dropped the rod. The reaction, of course, was immediate. The water sparked with energy, as if the stars themselves had kissed it-- the crocodiles’ limp bodies floated to the surface, and the song… the song ceased. Now, what did that mean? Why, that Iskra’s mind cleared! Too bad that erasing her memories of the recent events wasn’t so simple, however.

As the realization set in, horror crept into her eyes. “Ah! Oh, by the Shade. Forgive me, Verity-- what I did was completely inappropriate. I have no idea what got into me. I never should have… gods, I never should have said so, so many things. Done so many things, too! Can you ever forgive me, for the way I’ve dishonored you?”

 

[starboob]

♕ PRINCESS VERITY (EXILED) ♕​

Breathing a sigh of relief, Verity leans back against the tree and shuts her eyes. With the bird's song reduced to the sound of crackling water, her head begins to clear and the arousal from earlier begins to subside. It's not immediate, but it is certainly not as gripping as before. At least now she can actually think for herself and beyond what her Desires are. Admittedly, though, the princess is disappointed that the sharasha's song is no longer bleeding into her veins, because it had been such a fun excuse to act on all the impulses that have plagued her since... since she doesn't even know for how long. All she knows is that she does want Iskra, perhaps more than even a songbird could even hope to inspire, and at least the song had been the perfect justification to jump the pirate. Not that she is so shy as to stifle herself, it's just that... It's just that with Iskra things are much different. She doesn't know why exactly, but with the captain she almost doesn't want to rush headfirst into her wants. Even if it will surely kill her with all these fresh new memories burned into her brain. They will likely remain as hot as they had been in the moment and she already knows her imagination will take them further than reality had. She groans, then, realizing just how long it will be until she is afforded a moment of peace to take of herself and thusly tries to push the thoughts from her head.

Once more the princess sighs, opening her eyes to look down below and confirm her companion's success. The swamp is now littered with crocodile corpses, along with the captured sharasha, and the only songs twisting through the jungle come from the insects. Slowly Verity makes her descent down the tree until she's low enough to jump towards solid ground, careful to avoid the water for she isn't sure if the lightning rod has run out of charge just yet. Just as she is about to congratulate her partner and celebrate their Victory, her ears perk at the sound of Iskra's distress and she stops what she is doing to give her attention to her companion.

However, when she actually realizes what the captain is agonizing over this Time? Oh the princess, in all her cruelty, laughs. It bubbles up straight from her belly with enough mirth that it forces her to keel over. The suggestion that Iskra has done something wrong or something to dishonor her, as if she can even be anymore dishonored, is so far fetched that Verity cannot help herself. It's the best joke she's heard since hanging with that group of smugglers! Gathering herself from the ground, she wipes the tears from her eyes and covers her mouth, "Iskra, oh my sweet Iskra, you have done no such thing. There is no reason for your apologies, though I appreciate your thoughtfulness." She steps closer to the captain to further offer her reassurance. "Nothing you did was of offense and I apologize for laughing––I just found the notion utterly hilarious. It's as if you don't know I would have thrust myself at you without a sharasha to inspire my proclivities," she says, oh so cavalierly as if it's quite common to admit your Desire for your companions like discussing an outfit to purchase or a treat to please your tastes. (Technically, where she comes from, it is quite common. Or at least there is no shame around it.)

"If you are done with your jests, shall we gather the bird and share our Victory with our comrades?" she tilts her head, cheery smile still on her face. However, she does not wait for Iskra's response and instead grabs a fallen branch and uses that to lure the sharasha closer to herself until she can pull the golden animal from the water. She reaches for the net and then tosses it over her shoulder. "Well, aside from those distractions, I have to commend our success. And you thought we were going to get ourselves killed hunting this thing; as it turns out, there is nothing we cannot overcome." With the bird gathered, she presses a button on her belt and one of those little lights that hop around Inure jumps out and begins skipping ahead, showing them back towards the mother.

At first, the princess is silent as they walk, but, of course, she cannot contain herself and she blurts out, "It also turns out that you are not as dead as you originally thought. How interesting." Though what she means to say is, 'I knew it.' However, personal satisfaction aside, she doesn't bring this up for herself; she's actually curious what Iskra makes of their experience. Whether she thinks it is purely the sharasha's magic or perhaps Desires long forgotten. (Does she Desire the princess as much as the princess Desires her?) "If you don't mind my curiosity... how was that for you? Are you alright? I remember my first awakening being rather startling and, hm, I suppose I should have been more thoughtful of that when I propositioned you back there. For that, I do believe I owe the apologies. My conduct was rather thoughtless and entirely selfish." Even if she literally could not help herself, she does not want to taint another one of Iskra's presumably first experiences with the notion that Desires are all implicit in nature.

 

[Syntra]

As she waited for Verity‘s response, Iskra’s anxiety painted numerous scenarios for her. And, predictably, there was nothing even remotely pleasing about them! The common thread? That would be the princess’s contempt. Regardless of the other variables, that factor was always, always there-- a constant buzzing in the background, quiet but somehow all the more overwhelming. It was that strange brand of illusory silence, you know? A silence that wasn’t a silence at all, and that gnawed, gnawed, gnawed at you, as long as there was something to sink its claws into. Of course, the pirate deserved nothing else. For overstepping the boundaries, Iskra should have received a punishment much more severe! (…immediately, her thoughts turned to her past. Not that she wanted to adopt the Holy Vessel’s methods, but even a broken clock could be right twice a day, could it not? Yes, yes! And wisdom, as the pirate was well aware, could be found even in a lunatic’s ravings. Maybe, maybe it had dwelled there precisely because of the Vessel’s unique state of mind, actually-- an oracle had to be blinded in order to be able to glimpse the other worlds, after all, and… well. What was madness, really, if not a different perspective? Wisdom’s uglier twin, reviled and hated? Except that, you see, the two concepts were still connected by the umbilical cord! Both were about seeing that which was not immediately apparent, and whether you were seized by one or the other? Only the results of your actions would tell you, and nothing else. That was what made it so scary.)

So, yes. When Verity laughed? The pirate just stared at her, disbelief written in her eyes. What was so funny about this, really? Callously, Iskra had violated every rule in the book-- spat on the very foundations of her honor, and watched them crumble. In the past, she’d thought them to be made of stone, but oh, they were but paper! Paper, now grey and wet and soggy, and… ah. Where did you go from there, even? After smashing your compass to pieces, what was there left to follow? The howling of the wolves, so ominous in the distance? The jingling of the coins, which was the anthem of every scoundrel? Iskra didn’t know, know, know, and then Verity laughed. (Had she told her a joke? The pirate didn’t remember doing anything of the sort, but perhaps it was her very life that was hilarious here, and that would have been entirely valid. Truly, people laughing at her in the streets was more than she could have asked for! Laughter was still better than fear, after all, and… oh. Oh, alright. She, um, hadn’t expected that. Was it possible that her ears had deceived her, perhaps? Because while what Verity had said had certainly been words, and words ordered in a meaningful sequence, too, Iskra did not understand. Just!!! Such statements weren’t meant to refer to her, out of all people. As absurd it was, indeed, as the idea of the princess trying to eat dust! Yes, what an apt analogy. Dust could offer Verity about as much as the pirate could, but without endangering her life in the process, which... fine, fine, maybe the analogy didn’t work as well as she’d thought. Depressing, to know that even dust ranked above her!)

…still, Verity’s mind belonged to Verity. Who was she, really, to police her desires? The princess’s heart could burn for whoever she chose, even if that choice happened to be exceptionally poor. “I, um. I don’t know what to say,” Iskra admitted, finally meeting her eyes. “For me, hearing such things is shocking. I have never been on the receiving end of such feelings. What’s the protocol here? Should I, ah, attempt to give you some sort of answer?” Except that Verity hadn’t actually asked her anything, sheesh. “I don’t know. I seems to me that leaving such a declaration unanswered isn’t the right thing to do, but I have no idea what is. Will you wait for me? Till I… till I figure this out, I suppose.”

The sharasha, the blasted bird that had started it all, ended up secured in her backpack, and then it was time to return. With all her might, Iskra prayed to the Shade for soothing silence, but… yeah, no. Of course she wasn’t going to have that wish granted! Why had she bothered forming that thought, even? It had been doomed long, long before the pirate had put that sentiment into actual words. (The old impulse to shut Verity up emerged, but she pushed it away. Were they not building something better, after all? Something not so fragile that the first storm would tear it down? And, for that, some degree of honesty was needed.) “Perhaps not,” Iskra sighed, feeling overwhelmed by all the evidence. “Still, I must be on life support, because before the sharasha…” before the sharasha, she had felt a shadow of this as well, actually, back before Verity had stabbed her, but she didn’t feel comfortable enough to examine that. Not now, at the very least. “…you know,” she hid behind ambiguity. That way, Verity wouldn’t notice anything suspicious, right?

“Nevertheless, it was… hmm, strange. Good while I felt it, I suppose, but less good now. Associations with alcohol come to mind, really.” Aside from the fact that guilt was crushing her at the moment, not random chemicals waging a war in her bloodstream. “I think I may be scared,” she confessed. “To you, this may seem like a small thing, but it isn’t to me, you see? I was taught so many things about myself, about my body and how it worked, in order to keep it in a working condition. To take care of it. And now, I discover that one of the founding principles was a lie? What else was a lie? It’s like… like the few pillars that are still supporting me are collapsing, Verity. Just, what will I stand on tomorrow? And the intensity of it all… I don’t get how you manage to live like that.” A terrible fear seized her then, and automatically, Iskra grabbed her hand. “Verity. What shall I do if such madness overwhelms me again? We didn’t have the opportunity to act on it, thank the Shade, but if we had… I’m not sure whether I could have controlled my urges. I would have done so, so many things to you! How do I resist such a temptation, theoretically speaking?”

 

[starboob]

♕ PRINCESS VERITY (EXILED) ♕​

While Verity had been the one to admit her attraction to the pirate––for what must be the hundredth time, she imagines––she had not expected Iskra to do anything with the admission other than file it away. So it does surprise her that Iskra wants to do something with this knowledge. (Curious, because before the princess recalls the pirate rejecting her whenever she has expressed even a minute attraction to the pirate. Yet she doesn't seem to be rejecting what Verity says as false or inconceivable. No, she seems far more thoughtful this Time. As if there is even much to think about––but, then, Verity must remember that she and Iskra are two different people. Vastly different, at that, and so she can only sit curiously and wonder how to best make sense of her companion.)

"There is no need for a response if you have none or none you wish to share," she replies, looking kindly at her friend and appreciating the everlasting thoughtfulness that seems to be inherent to Iskra's character. She could certainly stand to learn something from such consideration. "I shall wait for as long as you need. There is no rush, in my mind or heart. And, quite honestly, I had not been expecting a response."

Though what the captain has said leaves the princess with more questions, as is common to their pattern. Namely, she wonders what it means that the captain has never been on the receiving end of such affections. The princess does doubt that the pirate has never had any admirers––after all, Ylna once mentioned that there had been a friend who was interested in Iskra and Iskra, due to her own ignorance around how this particular game is played, declined the invitation. So she has (meager) evidence of admirers before herself (there may even be some in tandem with her, but she will not think of those hypothetical women). However, that is not what the princess is focusing on; what strikes her as odd is the implication that perhaps the pirate has had feelings for others before. She is far too precise with her words for this to be an error and, as the princess recalls, the pirate has even said that her issue isn't finding a woman to light her heart on fire, but the wretched Shade that gets in the way of her ability to give herself fully to another person. ...Now, the princess is no detective but this all does lead her to believe that Iskra does have more inside of herself than she believes. Carefully, Verity decides to broach the topic, "Do correct me if I am mistaken, but it sounds as though you have had such feelings for others before? Albeit unrequited?"

(Now the question remains, is Verity doing this to destroy herself with comparison? Or is she doing this to ensure that she rises above all the rest? She likely intends for both; a bit of destruction to go along with her validation. At least in destroying herself she can figure out how to be the woman the captain would want if her own self is not good enough.)

As they continue through the jungle with the hopping light to guide their path, she toys with the strap of her satchel and looks down at her feet while she listens. Not that Iskra gives her much at first, and she has to remind herself that she doesn't owe her more or anything at all. Still, it would be nice to know exactly what is swimming through the pirate's head. Especially after her distressed outburst. Especially after the sharasha. Though it seems Iskra must have sensed her short answer would never suffice when they have created entire new worlds through their conversations alone. This Time, as Iskra continues, she turns her head slightly to give more of her attention to her friend.

While Verity does not understand what there is to be so afraid of, she does not pass judgment on Iskra. They have lived different lives on different worlds and, as Verity is beginning to understand, Iskra's world has limited her––it had clipped the wings from her back to prevent her from soaring to great heights. Though, as she thinks more about it, it's not that they clipped Iskra's wings. Not at all. What they did was far more nefarious and convoluted. See, they let her keep her her wings and told her they were nasty things; they convinced her that using them would stain her; that it was a great sin. Perhaps they had her pluck her own feathers just so she could see how disgusting they look without plumes and so she could learn to hate them just as much as her masters. They forced her to believe that that which makes her Beautiful will be her destruction. That is Verity's assessments, at least.

The princess sighs as she contemplates her answer, an answer she hopes will not despair the captain as she'd rather be the reason she flies than be the reason for her fall. (She's already sampled the latter role before and it did not taste sweet.) "I suppose you could spend the rest of your Life agonizing over your crumbling pillars or you can choose to see this demolition as necessary to your rebirth. It sounds as though you are in need of a new foundation and a new set of principles if you are to live as Iskra and not Iskra, the soldier. I shall not lie, the prospect does sound terrifying and I likely would not want to be in your shoes," she admits, squeezing Iskra's hand and encapsulating it in her own, "and, I must remind you, that you are not alone. I am here. And if I am not the one you need, there are others, too, who will stand with you and who would follow you to the ends of the galaxy."

"And Iskra? If another fit of madness seizes you, unless induced by a sharasha's song or some other drug, I do believe you shall be fine. For Desire that manifests naturally is much easier to reason with than whatever the sharasha had done to us––I reckon I am expert enough in that area to assure you," she chuckles, "so I trust you will still have your wits about you enough to stop yourself." She offers a reassuring smile and then presses her lips to Iskra's knuckles, "And if you are still unable to seize control over your sensibilities, then I shall seize control over my own––provided there is no involvement of a sharasha––and stop us before it can go any further than either of us would wish."

 

[Syntra]

At this point, Iskra shouldn’t have been surprised. Again and again and again, the princess had uncovered that which was hidden in her words-- both the treasure buried in the sand, and the poisoned thorns among which her roses grew. Why, then, should this tendency stop? A good compass still pointed north, no matter how many years had passed, and oh, the one that belonged to Verity… well, it seemed to be exceptionally well-calibrated. (‘Have you ever had such feelings for another?’ she’d asked. And, well, had she? Had she? The implication had flown under the captain’s radar, but the truth was that it was there, plain for everyone to see. Had Iskra misspoken, or had something stronger than she was been guiding her? Guiding, yes. My guiding star. …still, it wasn’t like she could possibly admit to that. Honesty was nice and everything, but there were certain limits, you know? Boundaries drawn in her own blood, and by the blade that had pierced her heart.) “I suppose,” Iskra finally said, in the end. “It may have happened. I cannot say with certainty, for I am still ignorant when it comes to these things, but probably, yes. I shall need to think about this to, umm… decipher my feelings. I don’t want to say anything more specific before that.”

(…her feelings. By the Shade, what a strange phrase! It didn’t quite fit into her mouth, like a spoon meant for someone much larger than her, but she’d have to get used to the sensation. Why, after all, should she dwell in lies? On lies they’d weaned her, that much was true, but she wasn’t a child anymore. Iskra was a woman grown now, dammit, and she should find herself a better meal! …even if the idea of doing so terrified her, really. What if she wouldn’t like the new taste? What if she missed the comfort zone, so, so warm and inviting? Except that very comfort zone broke my spine. Broke me. Ah, well. There were still pieces to pick up, weren’t there? Jagged and uneven, marred by everything she had and hadn’t done, but hers, hers, hers, and Iskra… Iskra was about to find out what that meant, it seemed. Just, wow. How did one carry such weight, even? How to ensure she wouldn’t fracture further, only for the wind to carry her dust in all the directions?)

And, as if she’d asked that question aloud, the answer was presented to her-- by, of course, her one and only guiding star. To think the solution was so simple, too! She only had to lean on others for support, instead of providing it all the time. (A disgraceful thing for a captain to do, perhaps, because really, wasn’t she there to be a pillar herself? To help those whose eyes were weak see the path before them? Except that, you see, Iskra had come to accept that the human existence was a disgraceful affair in general. A woman couldn’t build a house alone, nor could she dig a well like that, and so… well, perhaps it was also naïve to expect that she could sculpt herself out of the stone they had encased her in without outside assistance.) “You are right,” the pirate sighed. “I am a greater coward than I thought myself to be, am I not? Just like you cannot keep wearing a shirt that has fallen apart, I cannot keep living like this. I have to find a new way. It’s just that it’s hard, you know? You think that you’ve gotten rid of all of the baggage already, and then something like this turns up. Boom, you can start from scratch again! Sometimes,” she added, more softly, “I worry that there will never be an end to this. That my life will be reduced to a series of revelations, each more absurd than the one before it. I don’t hate learning, Verity, of course that I don’t, but this feels different. Not like broadening your horizons, but like… I don’t know. Like finding out that, all this time, you’ve been asleep, and what you thought was your life was just a dream. Where do you go from that? It’s, ah, disorienting.”

Still, maybe she didn’t have to identify the proper direction right away. A journey of a thousand miles began with a single step, didn’t it? So perhaps, for now, her realizing that she needed to start walking was good enough on its own. “Thank you, Verity,” she clutched the princess’s hand tighter, feeling some combination of gratitude and relief. (Warmth, too. Warmth was a big aspect there. Unlike the blazing inferno from before, this was a sunlit meadow, and so it didn’t make her nervous at all-- no, Iskra wanted to wrap herself in it. To wrap herself in it and stay, for as long as Verity would have her.)

“Let’s return. I’m sure everyone is waiting.”

***

And waiting they had been, that was for sure. Iskra had thought all the other preparations had been taken care of, but obviously, that had been a naïve idea-- the second they returned, you see, they were dragged into the wedding-related chaos. Just, who knew that details were so important? Iskra didn’t think that mismatched curtains would cause Eran to break down in tears, but somehow, that was exactly what happened! (Sheesh. If this event was meant to convince her that weddings weren’t scary, but rather joyous occasions to treasure forever, then it was failing at the task.)

Hours were passing far, far faster then they had any right to, and before the captain could properly catch her breath? The Day D was there, along with her new duties. Right. Right, I have to pick Verity up first. Presumably, Verity would be in her cabin, right? So Iskra knocked on the door, and let herself in. “I feel ridiculous in this suit,” she complained instead of a greeting, and looked down at her body with what could only be described as ‘uncomfortableness.’ “That people wear such a thing willingly truly is a testament to the indomitable spirit of the human species. Anyway…” the pirate cleared her throat, “your gift. Just as I promised.” And, when she opened her fist? A small bracelet was revealed, with a simple, wooden star attached to it. “I know it’s not much,” she added hurriedly, “but I, uh, carved it myself. I thought of you, and the shape came to my hands.”

 

[starboob]

♕ PRINCESS VERITY (EXILED) ♕​

For as much as Verity has grown to love Iskra’s crew, this wedding is serving to remind her that they are still pirates and therefore agents of sheer chaos. Never in her several years of wedding organizing has she ever had to put out so many fires—literally, in more cases than she would care to count. She just truly had no clue what she was getting herself into when Eran pleaded for her aide; still, literal and metaphoric fires aside, she is happy to offer her help, because she honestly doesn’t think the wedding preparations would have been half as successful without her. That is no slight against the crew, but aside from Eran and a few other women, most couldn't care less about all these details such as...

“No, no—there is a difference between ivory and eggshell and when you bring me the correct napkins, I shall show you.”

... and...

“That skirt has a hole in it; if you plan to wear that tonight, bring it down to the washroom. Kona and some of the others are darning clothes as we speak.”

... not to mention...

“Hmm, I changed my mind about the arrangement of the room—the way it was the first Time was far more eye catching. Apologies.”

It goes without saying that there is not a person aboard Inure who does not have a task or a series of tasks to complete, and if the princess catches anyone idling? Oh, she is quick to sweep them towards another assignment. No one is spared from her tyranny. If anyone has complaints, they are wise to not take them up with the princess herself, for she would likely use the opportunity to lecture them on the importance of this day and how they could have been finished much sooner had anyone completed the to-do items she had left prior to hunting for the sharasha. (The women had looked rather scandalized when the hunting duo returned so early from their trip and were hastily trying to figure out the things they had completed––aside from breaking into one of the wine barrels to, as one had said, 'Get into the spirit of the wedding.' Oh, the princess had not been pleased with that discovery. Thankfully, her exhaustion more or less prevented her from snapping at the offenders and she waved the concern to the side, figuring she probably had gone overboard with the alcohol run.)

While the beginning of the day seemed to provide an endless list of tasks that needed to be completed, slowly the princess can see the picture coming together just as she and the brides had brainstormed. With some assurance that her oversight is no longer needed, she hurries off to her own cabin to prepare for the evening. After all, she had told Iskra that they both needed to be ready an hour before the event and she does not want to keep the captain waiting.

Although, once Verity arrives at her cabin she immediately wishes she had begun her preparations at least a day before; perhaps she is being dramatic, but there seems to be even more for her to do in the privacy of her room than there had been to get the wedding set up. See, while the princess had had an outfit planned, upon trying it on she decides that it does not look right on her; so she cycles through about a thousand different options as she desperately wants the captain to have no other place to look except for herself. (Yes, she realizes that today is about the happy brides, but she also thinks this day is little bit about dazzling Iskra with her Beauty.) So after a series of wardrobe changes, and effectively turning her quarters into a tornado disaster zone, she has finally settled on a dress and a set of accessories to go along with it. The dress in question is all burgundy (to not so subtly match the captain's maroon threads) with a deep V-neck plunge that stops just below her waist; it also has a slit up the left leg, that is covered by some sheer material that allows others to see more of her skin while still staying somewhat modest (by her standards).

When Iskra arrives, Verity is in the middle of painting her face––adding glitter to her highlights, making sure her lipstick matches the burgundy shade of her dress, and covering up the scar over her left eye. Her eyes flit over to Iskra's reflection in the mirror just as she is complaining about her suit; unfortunately, the princess doesn't really hear her complaints as she is far more enamored with how dashing her Iskra looks. She backs away from her vanity and turns to fully face her partner for the evening, eyes so full of stars they probably shine on their own. "Iskra," she breathes, covering her hand over her mouth as she consumes the other with her eyes (though she wishes she could do it with her mouth). "You look so utterly breathtaking that you will surely have to warn people before they see you. I feel nearly blinded by your radiance."

She then approaches the pirate and fixes the collar of her shirt, her lapel, makes sure that her ascot has been tied correctly––all small things that no one on this ship would likely notice, and the perfect excuse for the princess to close some distance between herself and her companion. 'I could just ravish you right now,' she thinks to herself, biting her lip while some rather heated images from their hunt return to her mind. She shakes them away quickly, however, when Iskra reminds her about the gifts and turns her attention to the captain's palm and gasps in surprise––needless to say, she adores what the captain's heart has carved for her. "Oh, I don't think I shall ever be able to take this off, Iskra. It's just so darling. I––thank you," she says, taking the bracelet from Iskra's hand and affixing it to her wrist, then admiring the small charm. "I adore it and there is no need to make any excuses for this is so, so lovely."

'So she does still think of me as a star.' Even though the captain had referenced her as her guiding star when she had come to her rescue during the whole Demetria incident, she had assumed that had been a one Time thing. After all, the first Time she had uttered that nickname it had ended... had ended in a way that Verity does not want to remember or think about. Not right now. Instead, she puts a smile on her face and reaches over her vanity for the floral clip that, in her homelands, marks the other as unavailable. The clip has two flowers attached to it, both are yellow roses with red tips and one bud is noticeably smaller than the other; it is also adorned with some accenting green sprigs. "I know that you are my dandy lion, but roses felt more appropriate for a wedding," she says, handing the clip to the pirate, "Would you like me to put it in your hair for you? If not, the mirror is just over there."

"Oh, and would you mind helping me with my dress?" she asks, turning around to point to the zipper, "The auto-zip isn't working on this one and it is such a Pain to do this on my own." Which is to say she absolutely could do this herself, and yet she likes the idea of Iskra doing it for her. Though she obviously wishes the captain weren't helping her get dressed. "As excited as I have been for this event, I will be the first to admit I will be grateful when it's over. Who knew the stress of organizing a wedding would take years off my Life? I do hope that Saavika and Eran are pleased."