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

[Syntra]

'There is no monster in front of me,' Verity said, and ah, could that be true? The princess seemed to separate her from her own actions, and that... well, to be honest, that had never occurred to the pirate. Wouldn't that be running away from her responsibilities, after all? Sanitizing that which could never truly be cleansed, nor should it? Except that, now that Iskra thought of it, that was exactly what she was doing with Verity! (Yes, she may have soiled her own ideals, and doing so had been her choice, but that wasn't all she was. Oh no, no, no. Reducing her to that would have been like looking at a mosaic, so, so colorful, and only focusing on a single dark fleck-- like seeing trees, indeed, and not realizing that they formed a forest. ...so, now that she could admit that, didn't Iskra deserve the same brand of consideration? The same willingness to acknowledge the good along with the bad? The Holy Vessel had had her believe she was but a worm at her feet, undeserving of basic decency, though that alone should have clued her in on the fact that, no, the opposite was true. The woman had been a false prophet, with lies spilling from her mouth every time she'd opened it! ...Iskra, you see, was a person, too. A person with a capacity for making mistakes, true, but also with the ability to correct them, and realizing that... well, it would probably take her a few days to process it all, to be frank. For now, though? For now, the pirate would bask in the sense of relief it brought, pure and unfiltered.)

"Thank you," she whispered, before wiping the wetness from her eyes. "Thank you, Verity. I... I think I needed to hear this, even if I wasn't aware of it. Do you know that feeling when, suddenly, everything falls into place? I wasn't trying to make it happen, but it did, and now I wonder whether this moment... well, whether it wasn't the entire point. All of it, I mean. Maybe our first attempt had to fail so catastrophically-- perhaps, without it, we wouldn't have been where we are now. And," shyly, Iskra averted her gaze, "I happen to like where we are now. Very much." Ah, yes, thorny was the path to victory, but that made it worthy of walking! Was the joy of persevering not all the greater if your feet were bleeding, or covered in blisters? Such was the wisdom they'd hammered into their soldiers' heads all those years ago, and Iskra couldn't find it in herself to disagree. "I don't know. I suppose that, in the end, it made us grow closer? It is hard to explain, but my heart, at least, feels that way. I do, too."

The guardian's words, then, were almost an afterthought-- something not that important next to her relationship with Verity transforming before her very eyes, like a caterpillar turning into a chrysalis. (What would it evolve in, huh? Iskra dared not guess what shapes would adorn that particular butterfly's wings, but somehow, that only made it... well, more exciting. Worthier to wait for, really.) "Thank you as well, my lady. Now, Verity, shall we head home? I believe that we have much to discuss."

***

Inure was waiting for them, as always, and once the duo boarded? They sailed off into the star-dotted darkness, like so many times before. (Still, something was fundamentally different, Iskra felt. In a way, it could perhaps be compared to the aftermath of an earthquake-- with earth itself torn asunder, everything else had moved in accordance, and... No, that isn't right, the pirate decided. An earthquake is destructive is nature, while what happened to us wasn't. In fact, it had been the very opposite of that! Maybe it was like a seed growing, then? Because, in order for that to occur, it first had to break its shell.)

Either way, Iskra was in no rush to get anywhere, really. 'The next trial shall find you,' the guardian had said, so looking for it would have been counterproductive, right? Well, that, and perhaps she was also entirely content just enjoying Verity's presence, now that the last barriers separating them had fallen. (Among all the joys this universe had to offer, the pirate still hadn't discovered anything that would trump the peace that could be found in Verity's lap-- in resting her head there, and allowing her to play with her hair. Ah, time itself seemed to stop whenever she did that! ...her fingers were softer than rose petals, truly, and from time to time, Iskra couldn't help but imagine them, uh, elsewhere.)

It was one of the slow days, and as usual, the two spent it in the library-- Iskra had decided to read to Verity from her favorite book, in part because she wished to know what she thought of a particular section. Just, what nuggets of wisdom would she manage to extract from it? Something similar to the ones she'd received, or a different message entirely? It seemed, however, that she would not be able to unearth that answer today.

"Captain!" Eran barged inside, not even bothering to knock. "Oh, hi, Verity," she offered the princess her sweetest, most genuine smile. "Hope you're doing well, friend. Have you scored already, hmm? Not to spoil anything, but I think your prey is just about ready to give in. Don't give up now! I bet a lot of money in your favor." Then, as if she suddenly remembered why she had come in the first place, the woman's expression fell. "Captain, listen, you're not gonna believe what's fucking happening now. It's outrageous! I was shopping for some ingredients, and one of the reputable stores we're getting them from started offering space turtle flesh. No, really. They're an endangered species, for fuck's sake! But nooo, those damn poachers would just die without stuffing their pockets with gold, apparently. So I was thinking, what if we taught them a lesson? Since we're committing good deeds now and shit."

 

[starboob]

♕ PRINCESS VERITY (EXILED) ♕​

Ever since fleeing her planet in haste, her sense of reality seemed to have crumbled around her––though, she supposes, it had been crumbling before that moment, too, and she just had not the Time to recognize it until after she had escaped the chaos. After that, Life had been wading through a fog with no sense of which direction was forward and which was backwards and, at Times, the princess even chose to remain still in that fog. Then, Halen had tried to reach her. Her other comrades as well, but none could find her or bring her to come out of the mist. Not until she met a pirate who lit her soul ablaze and helped pull her from that fog, thick as pea soup. In all honesty? She knew it had felt like coming home back then, but she had attributed that more to Inure than anything else. Now, she realizes it had not been about the grand ancestor at all, but Iskra and all the Life she brings with her. (Verity swears the whole atmosphere of the room changes when the captain is present. Like gravity shifts and you have to look up to see the pirate, you have to get closer to her. As if that is the grandest purpose in the galaxy. Or maybe that is just Verity. Still, it is her truth and she no longer feels lost in her affections.)

To have had the experience of sharing their deepest memories with one another, full of their shortcomings, their mistakes, and also their victories, there is a closeness with Iskra that she has never known before. Though she has yearned for it and tried to find it in others. So, in the days following their most recent show of worthiness for the wayfinder, she has allowed herself to relish in Iskra's light. She most likes when they take strolls through the ship, pointing out the different galaxies they can spot or guessing which stars they are seeing. Sometimes, Verity will make up stories of these stars and who they were before they became legends in the sky. (While the princess does think of home more than ever before, having also revisited those memories when she shared them with Iskra, she does not feel a particular rush to get to their next destination. For she knows she must trust that this quest is her way and that she is not abandoning her citizens. There is still Halen, who will do her part. Halen's project is the Restoration. Verity's project is the wayfinder. And, somehow, she knows she will meet that princess again and they will be able to work on different terms to overthrow Seraphina. (Ah, there is no more point in hiding her name behind her title. Before, Verity had done so to separate the woman she thought she knew from the woman she had become and, now, she realizes there is no safety in that. She must see that Seraphina and the queen are one and the same and trying to make a distinction does not serve her any longer.)

In the safety of her pirate's arm, she settles in to listen to the book that Iskra wishes to share with her, excited to know more of the captain through her favorite pieces of literature. Volcanic Mouse––and Verity is working aggressively to find a more suitable name for their small, mischievous friend––rests near her feet, making for a rather nice heater.

Of course, because the universe is omnipresent and always knows when to send a disruption, one comes their way before Iskra can even utter the first word from the passage. She isn't exactly annoyed, because she does know the role of a captain rarely ever allows for breaks and, well, the disruption is Eran, who she does enjoy. Though, she probably could have done without all those innuendos. Quickly Verity's eyes shift over to Iskra to make sure she doesn't understand what Eran is talking about even if her own blush might give it away. "Ah, Eran, why I thank you for the update. Or, encouragement?" she says, trying to laugh it off. (Of course she knows about the bet. Any princess worth her salt stays up to date on the rumors of her castle and since Inure is her skyward castle, she does have ears almost everywhere.)

However, when Eran mentions that. Oh, her blood boils almost immediately and she quickly rises from her seat, disturbing Volcanic Mouse who squeaks in protest. "They are doing what?" she asks, completely incredulous, though she does not need Eran to repeat. "Oh, we shall rectifying this injustice and for their greed I do not believe there is a punishment suitable enough to match their crimes. Iskra, come along we need to go to the command deck." What? Verity is a princess and last she checked princess outranks captain. Besides, if she really thought Iskra were going to protest she would not be so forceful. In this instance, her passion dismisses all need for formalities such as asking for one's opinion. "Eran, you come along as well. Do you know where they are finding these space turtles? I am thinking that perhaps we can lure them into a trap. We will have to be watchful of the Guardians as well. The less we interact with them the better." Guardians, she thinks, is a rather interesting way of referring to galactic bullies.

"Iskra, have I shown you how to actually operate Inure before? I think it is Time for you to learn more about the grand ancestor and how she works," oh and the way she smiles? There is no doubt that Iskra is in for quite the treat.

 

[Syntra]

Oh, by the Shade! Why did they have to share the same galaxy with such vile, vile creatures? To target the space turtles, whose numbers were dwindling by the second as it was, was a crime so disgusting that Iskra initially couldn't believe what her ears were hearing. Just, why would anyone do that? The turtles were living relics-- rare miracles of the old, with the history of the stars written on their shelves. (Ages ago, when Iskra had still been a child, she'd heard of those turtles. The Chroniclers, they'd called them. The Chroniclers or The Witnesses, depending on who you asked. The core message, however, remained the same-- regardless of their reasons, the creatures travelled across the universe, and wherever light fell upon their shelves? Oh, wherever it fell, unique marks remained. More than anything else, they resembled runes, and skillful interpreters could derive actual stories from them. No, attacking such creatures translated into disrespecting life itself! ...wait, wait, wait. "Their flesh, you say?" Iskra asked, her tone thoughtful. "Curious. From what I heard, their shelves are what is truly precious about them, not the meat. It isn't even considered to be particularly good, if my memory serves well. Why would they do something like that, hmm?" The pirate knew such women-- women for whom profit was the only god, and gold the only virtue. Why, then? Why, why? Why? They couldn't possibly be so foolish as not to know what was the most sought out part of their prey, and...

Oh. Oh, of course. "I think they may be collectors," Iskra blurted out, clutching Verity's hands as she spoke. "That, or they work for collectors. Why ignore the shells otherwise? Either they have the buyers already, and know that they are going to pay them much more than what they would have gotten from a regular customers, or they are wholly uninterested in selling because they covet it themselves. That, at least, is how I see it. What do you think, Eran? Verity?"

"I don't think anything at all, Iskra," Eran shrugged. "You know I'm not good at these things. Like, you are the Robin Hoods of the galaxy-- I'm here to take care of the mundane stuff and ensure that you guys won't get yourselves killed because you mistake bleach for a brand of alcohol. Seriously, how did you ever manage to function without me?"

Iskra tried to look dignified, but it seemed that her facial muscles had forgotten how to do that. "That only happened once, Eran. It wasn't my fault that the bottle wasn't labelled correctly, and besides, I technically cannot die. It's not like your intervention prevented some catastrophe of apocalyptic levels."

"Pfft. You say that now, but try drinking with your throat drier than the Mehian desert!"

Not finding this conversation fruitful anymore, Iskra turned to Verity. "Do you perhaps know scholars who are interested in history? Unscrupulous scholars, who chase after wisdom in the same way people with too much money chase after rare artifacts? That's the type we're dealing with, I think, and... well, you're a princess," Iskra explained. "I imagine you have met your fair share of, um... suspicious rich folks?" Some months ago, the suspicious rich folks category would have included Verity herself, but the pirate didn't think it necessary to state that-- there was no way her friend didn't know, for starters, and it also would have accomplished exactly nothing. Why remind her of the ghosts of their old arguments, after all? No, no, no! If they were to grow, truly grow beyond their conflicts, they had to learn when to put them aside. "That's what most of diplomacy is about, I've learned. Appeasing strange women with too much money for everyone else's good, that is. Or am I wrong?" Iskra didn't think she was, but then again, you rarely spotted the inconsistencies in your own thought processes before someone else pointed them out to you. That was why the art of conversation was necessary-- to act as this great sieve that would filter the good away from bad, the invaluable from the worthless.

"That being said, I believe a trap might be a viable idea. If we can lure some of the turtles to our location, then..." ...then what? Iskra had had something important to say, she was quite sure of that, but Verity's statement had erased the thought from her mind entirely. "W-what?" the pirate stammered, her heart somewhere in her throat. "You'd show it to me? There is no need, Verity-- I understand that some secrets are for you to keep, and I wouldn't hold it against you. It's your ancestor, after all. Would it even be right for me to know? If... if you're sure, though, then I would be honored. Very much so."

 

[starboob]

♕ PRINCESS VERITY (EXILED) ♕​

It had been naïve for Verity to think that villainy is only limited to where she hails from. However, with so little experience with extraterrestrial affairs, prior to her exile that is, she knew not what to think. It probably had not occurred to the princess to think of the galaxy in such a way when it had only been a place for her to admire from the ground and project all her fantasies into the constellations and lone stars. Since traveling through space––at first with Halen and their quest to find Inure and the wayfinder, then with Iskra and their quest to find the wayfinder––she has realized the universal nature of sin. Unfortunate as it is, she also knows that it does mean the same goodness she found back home also exists across the galaxy, too. Her proof is in the pirate beside her, her companion and confidant, as well as the women she has employed. If they must be the force of good, then she is happy to be that force. Even if they are but a mere pebble in a pond, even those have the power to disrupt the water; so to can they, disrupt the course of corruption in the galaxy. (A rather ambitious goal, she knows, but if there is power to make change then why sit on the sidelines and wait for someone else to come along? Waiting does no one any good. If pirate and princess must be the catalyst to get others to join their cause, then she will happily push back against evil.)

In any case, finding out that these felons are likely collectors of precious materials, killing these creatures who hold the tales of the galaxy on their backs all so that those stories may belong to someone? Fire is added to her steps as she marches through Inure, climbing up towards the helm. "Of all the evil I know of, I have to say that greed may be the most nefarious of all, for there is no justification in claiming that which is not meant to be yours. All because your eyes shine or your heart swells knowing you have stolen something precious," she spits, "I am quite certain that your assessment is correct, dandy lion. Though I have only just read on the Chroniclers, I do remember that it is their stories that make them so desirable. However, there are not many people who know how to interpret those runes anymore. The planet from where the turtles first jumped died some eons ago and their people are sparse in number..." she mutters, trailing off as she contemplates this more.

Though, her train of thought is interrupted when that particular anecdote about her pirate is casually revealed and she cannot help but to give her pirate a questioning look. "Iskra... I..." there seems to be a question that she wants to ask, but the words elude her. She does not want to offend the pirate's intelligence either, because she does not think her entirely daft. (Oblivious, sure, but not daft.) "Bleach does tend to have a particular smell to it that differs from that of alcohol... Have you lost that sense?" she decides to ask, and the question is earnest. If she has lost one of her senses to the Shade, then Verity believes she should know about this! Just to make sure she can help her pirate in what she lacks.

"Iskra, I am sure you would not be surprised to discover that almost all the rich women I know are suspicious. To comb through my contacts would not narrow our suspects necessarily," she says with a bitter laugh. "Regardless, most of them are still back on my planet. The only ones I came to know during my travels were..." her eyes widen as a connection is made. "There is one woman that comes to mind, actually. She is not from the planet where the Chroniclers originated, but that does not mean she does not have an interpreter at her disposal––she likely does," and the way her tone darkens when she says that? Oh it suggests the interpreter may not be there by her own will. "She was obsessed, as I recall, with the exotic and had a vast collection of stolen artifacts. Halen and I stayed at her chateau when we were searching for Inure and the wayfinder––we thought she might have had it. Anyway, her name is Lady Jezebel and she resides towards the outer edges of the galaxy among the asteroids. Have you ever run into her? I am not sure how far her reputation extends."

Then, taking Iskra's gentle hand in her own, she smiles at the captain. "Iskra, I know that I have been withholding when it comes to secrets of Inure," because it is almost an inborn quality in all her people, following the exodus, to keep outsiders out, as her people have always blamed outsiders for the destruction of their first world. "But, if the Divinities chose you as a seeker? Then I think you have been accepted into our fold. Besides, perhaps I am wrong in keeping all this to myself. You are Inure's captain, too, you ought to know more about her if you are to be an effective commander, you know," she kisses Iskra's knuckles, then, as they enter the command center.

"What you must understand, my dandy lion, is that Inure was crafted to help my people traverse the galaxy and find a new home for ourselves after our first planet collapsed. As I am sure you are aware, the galaxy is rather large and to spend eons searching or stuck in lightspeed? We would have lost precious Time and entire generations to travel. Granted, I do believe at least five generations were spent aboard Inure before we settled on our current world, but it likely would have been much longer without these ships."

"You see, these ships, fast as they are, have a peculiar ability to teleport. I am not quite sure how to explain it in scientific terms, perhaps Myrne may know better than I, but my understanding is that it warps Time in a way such that you can instantaneously travel from one location to another. However, in order to activate this function your essence must be recognized by Inure––a failsafe measure to keep people from abusing her abilities. When you input your essence into her system, she shall become loyal and you may hear her speak to you from Time to Time. Though I cannot say I hear her that often––she has only spoken clearly to me once when her star was on the brink of its own Death."

"Anyway," the princess continues on, as if this should come as no surprise to literally anyone, "once you and Inure have this exchange, she will reveal her secrets to you––beyond just how to travel, there are the hidden rooms, light cannons, cloaking abilities, and so forth." With all said, Verity places her hand on a panel near the wheel of the ship. The panel glows under her palm and her eyes roll backwards as she activates the exchange process. When she pulls her hand away from the panel a rod emerges; a diamond rod with rose-like thorns sticking from it. "Those don't hurt," Verity reassures, "so long as you do not resist. Simple grab the rod and allow Inure to flow into you, through you, and she will read your essence. The process is not so intimidating, I swear. I have done this before when I first started as a princess in order to gain access to our relics. They're all connected through their own psychic channels, so theoretically you'll even be able to operate Halen's ship if we were to run into her again. Anyway, all you need is to be yourself, dearest." Besides, if Seraphina had been accepted by their command of ships, then why should not Iskra be as well? She is a seeker, after all, and somehow that feels more precious than being a descendant alone. "I shall be right here, okay?"

 

[Syntra]

In this galaxy, there were two kinds of news-- earth-shattering plot twists, only an inch away from being called miracles, and… well, things that weren’t news at all, if you paused long enough to really think about it. Sometimes, the truth was hiding right beneath the surface, you see? Opening your eyes to it was all you had to do, really. And, needless to say? Needless to say, Verity’s tip belonged to the latter category. “Lady Jezebel,” Iskra repeated, soft and precise. (How come she hadn’t thought of her on her own? Many profiteers cruised this sector of the universe, yes, but even among them, lady Jezebel stood out like a sore thumb-- a sore thumb clad in the most expensive of dresses, sure, but a blemish on the existence itself nonetheless.) “I have heard of the villain, yes,” the pirate agreed. “Indeed, her reputation stretches far and wide, so this is not exactly shocking. In certain circles, the very mention of her name can cause a spontaneous celebration. The rumors have been... um, interesting, to say the least. Supposedly, she pays very, very well. Well enough, they claim, that those who escape with their lives intact can afford to retire far, far sooner than they ever dared to hope. The wildest estimates speak about decades, even.” And, technically, there wasn’t anything wrong about that. Were the people not entitled to the sweat of their brow, after all? To the fruits of their labor? Where the workers were not compensated fairly, filth took root-- filth that Iskra couldn’t even feel contempt for, as a woman couldn’t be blamed for wanting to eat, wanting a roof over her head, wanting to live. All very normal needs, in truth. Essentials. And, if she couldn’t afford those via regular means, then did it not make sense that she’d turn to crime? Oh, it did, it did! Lady Jezebel, however, could scarcely be considered the solution to such exploitative practices-- in fact, she depended on them existing. No, really. If not for the poverty choking the life out of these women, would they have resorted to deeds so deplorable? Iskra didn’t think so! Not all of them, anyway, and… and they didn’t deserve to be pressured into making such choices, with their very survival at stake. Truly, there were few things more cruel, more inhumane.

“Either way, yes, I can see that. It is very possible that she is involved. The interpreter may or may not have been forced-- she wouldn’t have been the first one to be seduced by the glittering of gold, that’s for sure. And, if the woman is somehow innocent? Well, I’m thinking we should still pay her a visit!” Iskra looked up to the princess, a sly smile on her lips. “After all, I am guessing that she knows the… hmm, the market for such artifacts. Better than the back of her hand, most likely. With the right motivation, I bet she would hand her contacts over, wouldn’t she?” ‘The right motivation,’ of course, was the understatement of a century, but Iskra would shed no tears for the wicked, wicked woman. Oh no, no, no! The ancient wisdom said that the one who wielded the sword had to be ready to die by it, and in her eyes, the same went for playing with human lives. How could you complain about being treated like that when you yourself subjected countless women to a similar fate, huh? (Easily enough if you were a hypocrite, the pirate knew. Knew and didn’t care, to be precise.) “I’ll make sure that we won’t leave empty-handed. That much, at least, I can promise. Remember how scary I can be when I wish to, Verity?”

Verity then proceeded to reveal Inure’s secrets, however, and Iskra… well, absurdly enough, Iskra wished to cover her ears! (How was this right, in any capacity? They’d stolen the ship, plain and simple. The fact that they’d stolen it from other thieves did justify it somewhat, but this was still a piece of Verity’s history-- a precious ancestor, beloved among her people. So what if they’d managed to reach an understanding? There were boundaries one should never cross, regardless of the circumstances! By the Shade, by the Shade, by the Shade. Could following this path lead to anything else by ruination, paved by resentment? If Verity felt that she had to share the information, that there was no other way, then Iskra could see no other conclusion. Despite everything, she was still an outsider! …how was this any different from her demanding the access to the wayfinder, all those months ago? From the very root of their issues? The princess might have been a willing participant this time, yes, but… but perhaps there was no place for buts, at this point. Not when it came to respecting the other’s choice.)

“Very well,” Iskra sighed. “I shall not refuse this gift. It’s just that… well, it’s strange, is it not? I do not wish to trample all that we’ve managed to build together, and I am afraid that that is exactly what will happen. My feet, you see, are terribly clumsy-- unused to the dances that you dance. I know not the right steps. If I happen to hurt you, will you tell me? I cannot stand the thought of you suffering in silence.” That being said, though, Inure’s abilities sure sounded convenient. Being able to jump across the universe, free of the constraints of time and space? Ah, she wouldn’t have dreamed of such wonders! And now they fell into her lap, for no reason at all. Truly, the universe worked in mysterious ways sometimes. “I am not afraid,” the pirate declared. “Even if it does end up hurting, a little bit of pain is a small price for being able to teleport. By the Shade, Verity, this changes everything!” So, without a second of hesitation, the captain’s fingers wrapped around the rose. (It… really didn’t hurt? Not that she thought Verity to be a liar, of course, but it still came off as a surprise-- a strangely shaped anomaly in the fabric of reality, really. Initially, it felt like nothing at all… and it continued feeling that way, no matter how hard she tried. Oh no. Could it be that…?)

“Verity,” Iskra looked at her princess, her eyes wide with fear. “I think I may have forgotten how to be myself. In fact, I am not sure if I ever knew. How… how do I do this?”

 

[starboob]

♕ PRINCESS VERITY (EXILED) ♕​

What Iskra says on lady Jezebel comes as no surprise to the princess. Having spent a few days at her estate, she remembers the extravagance being in such excess that only a wealthy woman could deem her home the pinnacle of excellence. (The woman herself was even something to behold. Verity still remembers how her skin crawled just looking at the woman, if one can even call her a woman with all her cybernetic enhancements––not that she has anything against those, but lady Jezebel took it to the extreme that only someone of her status would or could. Oh, she hopes the woman has tired of that spider's body she had been wearing as her lower half the last they met. She shudders just thinking about it.) So to know that she pays well enough for her stolen goods that it allows smugglers, thieves, bounty hunters, etc. an early retirement checks out. If anything, it may be the only good thing about the woman. If only she happily gave that wealth to those in need instead of exploiting their desire to be free of their chains. 'Wicked women may own the galaxy, but their makers ought to tear their souls asunder for their crimes.'

"We shall not fault the interpreter for whatever brought her there––though if she happens to be bred of the same evil, I see no reason to spare her." The seeds of evil must all be destroyed before they can spread to more hearts, after all. While Verity has come around to the uses of Violence, there is a part of her that would like to give everyone a second chance because she knows that even her heart is capable of evil. Thus, even evil hearts are capable of good and there might even be change there. Still, if the interpreter proves beyond saving––because Verity already knows that her employer is––then she knows what fate she shall succumb to and that Iskra will be there to carry out what must be done. She knows the pirate is more than capable and at the mention of her how scary her pirate can be? Oh, images of Demetria instantly flood her memory. Seeing her mangled body hanging from the ceiling with her own sword stuck in her belly is not a sight she will soon forget. (Nor the sight of the wives and their brutality against their abuser.) "Yes, I know that justice will come to this woman and her associates in one way or another. Perhaps your message will be strong enough to deter others in her supposed trade."

Now, when Iskra expresses her Fears to the princess? One hand rises to cover her heart while her brows knit together, for the pirate's consideration of her people is appreciated. She will not pretend that it feels natural to allow Iskra in on the secrets of her people's technology; it does feel strange to extend this sacred invitation. At the same Time? At the same Time it feels right in ways she cannot explain. (Perhaps, were her ancestors still with her, they would scream at her to stop. Given they are still silent, she has to trust her own instinct.) And, as sacrilegious as this thought is, perhaps they were wrong to keep people out. She has found more in common with the pirate than those who are from her planet. Moreover, the quest to find the wayfinder would not have revealed itself if Iskra had not been a worthy candidate––that first sage they had met made it seem that way, at least, when she commented on how curious their match was and still allowed them to proceed.

All that said, they are both seekers and they both must know how to use and operate Inure to her fullest potential. (Like Celestia and Aurora before them.) "Iskra, I shall teach how to dance this dance for I would not leave you on your own. I trust you and there is no Fear in my heart that you shall overstep your bounds. Should that happen, I shall pull you back from those waters," she takes Iskra's hand and presses her lips to her knuckles, "For I also do not wish to tarnish that which we have worked so hard to build. Knowing we both fight for the same thing, however? I believe there is nothing that can come between us now. Of that, I am most certain. More certain than I have been about anything in a while."

Then, giving Iskra an encouraging smile, she watches as she grabs the diamond rose thorns and... Nothing? Curious. Her brows furrow together and her head tilts to the side. Though at one point Verity would have thought this would be the outcome of trying to give a non-descendant access to their ancient technologies, she assumed that was false once she came to accept that the wayfinder has already, to some degree, accepted Iskra. (At least enough to allow her to engage in the quest.) Yet when nothing happens she has to wonder if perhaps she had been wrong.

Of course, then Iskra reveals that she is not quite sure how to be and the princess frowns. 'To have lost so much that even yourself is gone? How is it like to live as shell?' Except that, no! No, she doesn't believe that. Not truly. Iskra is more than a shell. Many things, she may have lost, and yet the princess sees a woman who is as full as she.

"Iskra," she starts, her voice soft and calming. She steps behind the captain and reaches over to wrap her own hand around Iskra's, the one that grips the diamond rose. "You may be unfamiliar with the freedom of simply being, but I suspect you do know who you are. I may still be unraveling you, but from those early memories you shared with me to the woman I have come to know, you still remain so distinctly you, somehow,” she pauses for a moment, mulling over an idea. “You know, with all our foes and friends before, you have always introduced yourself. Have you ever introduced yourself to the grand ancestor before? She may know you as the woman who operates her, but that alone does not make her familiar to you. Tell her who you are, beyond a pirate captain."

"Tell her of your proudest moment, dandy lion," she squeezes Iskra's hand before letting go and takes a few small steps away from the pirate. Honestly, if nothing continues to happen she will feel a fool—

“Captaaain. ISKRA!” a voice booms through the commend deck. Not angry, per se, just very loud. What is more concerning is how the ship creaks and rocks, with all the lights flickering and even the little hopping lights start to act more erratic than usual.

 

[Syntra]

"Yes," Iskra agreed easily, "let us judge her when we get familiar with her circumstances. There are few things less fair, after all, than drafting a sentence before even seeing the suspect's face." The Holy Vessel had done that often, as the pirate remembered-- supposedly, gods had granted her their eyes, and so she could peer into any woman's soul. 'If I detect filth in there,' she'd asked Iskra once, 'why should I let them live? Shouldn't my kingdom only belong to the righteous ones? Let it build of the charred bones of sinners, then! It's not like they can possibly be good for anything else.' ...and, yes, to a degree, the captain had agreed with her then. Did it not make sense to punish, punish and punish, till their crimes were engraved into their flesh? Except that then she'd looked, really looked, and seen the truth, in all its naked glory. (How many women had been called wicked just because the circumstances had shattered them? Shattered them, and forced them to pick up pieces? Iskra, too, was but a mere fragment-- a sharp one, enough to draw blood. Considering her own past, did she have the right to judge? A woman's heart was a compass, yes, but even compass could be easily fooled, and Iskra... well, let's just say that, as long as it was possible, Iskra preferred to re-calibrate it, instead of smashing it to pieces. ...as long as it was possible, anyway. You remember how you couldn't save everyone? Sad as it was, you couldn't save them from themselves, either.)

The fear that gripped her heart was powerful, so much that even breathing hurt for a while, but then? Then Verity came to her rescue, as usual. (Shouldn't it be the other way around? In the stories, it was always princesses who needed to be saved, not pirates! Then again, in the stories, pirates were usually brought to justice. A noose was the only reward for their deeds, oh yes, a noose and infamy, and... well, perhaps it would be better not to copy these patterns, Iskra realized. Wiser and more authentic, too. Besides, weren't they far too complex to be reduced to a bunch of cliches, repeated so often across the cultures that they'd reached the stars? Oh yes, yes! The pirate knew not what exactly they were, but she knew one thing, at least-- that they transcended stories, history, and everything in between. The two had their own category, so to speak. Perhaps, if the Shade was good, she would get to discover its nature, but if it didn't happen? Oh, that would be fine, too. Blessed she was, truly, for ever getting to experience it!) "Thank you," she whispered. "In turn, I promise to teach you everything I know. Each morning, I will find a new nugget of wisdom for you, and... and once I run out of them, I'll go out to learn more, because for you, I wish to be better than I am. More than I am currently, if that makes sense. Does it? It feels like you are so much that it is hard for me to match it-- like a star next to a mere lamp, really."

Indeed, it mostly seemed like it was her who needed the princess, and that theory was further proved right when Verity once again tried her best to support her. "You think so?" the pirate looked up, her eyes big and hopeful. "But I don't... I mean, I'm sure that I would have been something... someone... had I been given the opportunity, but it just feels like that ship has sailed away. When you burn a canvas, it doesn't matter that it could have become a masterpiece, now does it? That potential has been lost. Moreover, you cannot say whether it truly would have been a masterpiece-- it might as well have been a doodle, really. What I'm trying to say, I suppose, is that I feel unfinished. Lost. Stuck in a limbo." The pirate hadn't even allowed herself to think such thoughts before, but oh, how they were yearning to be freed! Like songbirds after years of captivity, eager to reclaim the skies.

...as always, though, they were stopped in their tracks. Just, what? Her proudest moment? That didn't strike her as a good introduction, among other things-- nobody liked to listen to a braggart, after all. What if Inure judged her to be arrogant, and closed her heart to her? Oh, what a terrible, terrible prospect! That would prove that she truly was unworthy-- both of Inure and Verity herself, really. How was she to live with such revelations? How, how, how? (...then again, Verity's advice hadn't failed her before. Maybe she could try, then? Sometimes, the pirate figured, the only litmus test you got was a leap of faith.)

"I, um, am Iskra, but you know that already. I don't have that many moments I'm proud of, to be frank, though among the few that I do have... I suppose that I am proud of slaying the Vessel," the captain said, her voice quiet. "Had I known what I know now, Inure, I would have walked different paths. I would have changed so, so many things! Enough to match the amount of droplets in a sea, really. Still, that I rid the galaxy of her is still something I do not regret, though. She was a blight on its face, a parasite feeding on honest women's blood, and I am happy I found it in myself to end her. To this day, I consider it my greatest accomplishment."

 

[starboob]

♕ PRINCESS VERITY (EXILED) ♕​

Warmth fills Verity's eyes as her pirate speaks. (Pity, after all, is not what her pirate needs. No, to pity her is to discredit everything that she is, everything she has done to make herself captain Iskra, the most honorable pirate in all the galaxy. Verity sees no reason to feel sorry for a woman who has climbed out of her own grave and done more than the princess could ever imagine. Truly, she does find the captain inspiring, because to have the strength that she does to break her own chains, defy all odds, and continue to seek out meaning in this cruel galaxy? It is what the princess needed when they first met and it is still something she needs now. Perhaps she may need help Iskra see herself through her eyes, and pity will not grant her that lens.)

"Perhaps, perhaps," the princess nods in agreement, though she does not do so to be cruel or unkind. Simply, to ignore what Iskra says would ignore that she is right. There is no way to know who the pirate would have become had her canvas not been burned, as she says. However, that does mean there is not still a masterpiece there. "And what does that matter when neither of us will ever know that woman? She is gone. Mourn her if you must, but I know that my head and heart shall never wonder who that Iskra is, because the one I know is a masterpiece in her own right. Sometimes, the greatest works of art come from an accident or two. Sometimes, brilliant art is unfinished and yet the audience marvels, still, creating their own meaning from what is available. Is that not most fascinating?"

"And if you are lost... well, am I not your guiding star, dearest?" she tilts her head to the side with a playful smile on her lips. "I hope to live up to this title that you have given to me, my dandy lion." Verity may not know specifically how she may help the pirate fight her way out of limbo or even how she may ever feel complete, but she knows at least that she will stick beside the pirate. Through thick and thin, because she cannot imagine her Life without Iskra. Not after knowing her and not after everything they have been through. "Together, we may find these answers."

The moment that Iskra chooses to share with Inure is not surprising to Verity. She might have guessed it would be Iskra's most impactful memory, the one that stands out among the rest and truly defines her character. (To Verity, that soldier who turned on her commander had been there from the start. Yes, she remembers the scared Iskra who had plunged herself into the Life of the soldier and she also remembers seeing that soldier tried to stand up against the evils she had been bred for. She remembers hesitancy. She remembers defiance, too. All of that led to plunging her sword into the belly of the beast. Had Verity known Iskra sooner, years sooner, on her own planet, she wonders if their meeting would have inspired her to vanquish the woman who calls herself queen. Oh, she cannot think on that for too long without tearing herself apart with Regret––even if she can acknowledge that all that happened afterward had not been her fault, it still sits heavy on her heart. Like a lead blanket.) Of course, she wonders what the grand ancestor will make of it, if anything. Will she respond? Will she shut herself down and toss them all overboard?

Patiently, Verity waits for something to happen. Another stirring perhaps. Yet all remains quiet and still. The air even feels colder and Verity can feel her doubts bubbling up––perhaps her earlier certainty that this would work had been a sham! 'Oh, Divinities... Had I been wrong? Had you meant this ship to only respond to the descendants who you blessed to travel the galaxy and continue your legacy?'

Minutes must pass and just when Verity is about to express her doubts, the rose beneath Iskra's hand begins to glimmer and shine so brightly that the princess has to shield her eyes and look away. It covers almost everything in sight and Verity cannot even see the pirate though she knows that she is standing right beside her!

For Iskra, the light also travels up her arm, it even seems to sink beneath her skin and causes her to glow. Though there is no Pain, just as the princess had promised. The light passes over the pirate captain, through her, and fills the back of her eyelids with an explosion of colors––more than just the rainbow, there is a spectrum of new colors, so bright and vivid and breathtaking. (Is this Inure? Is this her essence and what she is sharing with the captain? Is there some hidden meaning in this or is it just fanfare meant to dazzle those who link with the ancient relics?) A voice, soft, aged, and tired fills the pirate's ears, "Welcome, captain Iskra. It has been many, many aeons since a foreigner has greeted me. And for a seeker, you took so long to find me. How I have missed you."

Then? Then visions fill Iskra's mind––glimpses of the parallel rooms, the star maps used to wrinkle space and cut travel time down to zero, how the ship can bend light to become invisible to enemies, and so much more––everything is revealed to the captain. (Curious, too, that through this there are also glimpses of past commanders––each Time, showing that Inure is operated by duos. She also shows Iskra glimpses of herself––from the first moment she stepped foot onto the ship, killing the former crew, and taking command; to when she met Verity; to the moment they restored Inure's core.) "We take care of each other, captain Iskra. Remember."

The lights fade out in a manner of seconds and when Verity drops her hand from her eyes, she touches Iskra's shoulders. "... Admittedly, that did not happen when I linked with our relics. H-how was that? Are you okay?" worry colors her tone as she searches the pirate for any sign of injury.

 

[Syntra]

…ah. Could that be true? Iskra had never thought of it like this, but it was true that she had never been anyone but herself-- fate might have warped her beyond recognition, yes, but that didn’t mean that she had somehow lost her authenticity. When a sword’s surface got scratched, it only proved that it felled many enemies, did it not? The irregularities had become a part of its likeness and, like that, helped to distinguished it from its sisters, otherwise identical in shape. In stories, scars often marked the heroine as well! Much like military insignia, they told the onlookers that, yes, they found themselves in the presence of one who had faced many struggles, vanquished countless foes, and stood victorious in the end. Why, then, should it be different for the scars that Iskra bore? For the ones that were felt, rather than seen? (…still, still the pain was tearing her apart, regardless of what she did to soothe it. For the captain, it had never quite ended, you know? The greatest enemy that she had beaten was herself, the versions of herself that she didn’t like, to be precise, and sometimes… well, sometimes she could hear their voices, feel their touch on her hands. ‘Do this, do that,’ they whispered. ‘You know what you were born for, Iskra, so why deny your fate? You were brought into this world to drown it in blood, and oh, it’s waiting, waiting, waiting!’ And, yes, for these thoughts, she had considered herself monstrous. Such ideas could only ever hatch in the mind of a blood-crazed beast, right? Maybe, maybe she had only gotten one side of the equation right, however-- if the pirate truly was a monster, you see, then killing it over and over also made her a monster-slayer. Hmm, hmm! An interesting logic to pursue, and it was no wonder that it had been Verity who had introduced it to her. Verity, her guiding star. Ah, where would she have been without her? Lost in the darkness, certainly, and gazing into the abyss.)

“You speak true,” Iskra said, and wrapped her fingers around Verity’s. “I… thank you. It has never occurred to me to think in these ways. I know, I know, it must strike you as strange, but it’s not easy, you see? It feels like… like trying to stretch your limbs after you’ve been sitting for hours, except that those hours are literal years. I thought that I have already trained my mind to be flexible enough, though now… now, I think it may never be over. The training process, I mean.” Then, perhaps surprisingly, her lips curled up in a tiny smile. “Is that strange that it doesn’t make me despair? The prospect of never-ending work, I mean. The task is daunting, I am not going to lie, but,” the captain shrugged, “it also gives me a sense of purpose, I suppose. Something to do, even when the waters are calm and the only thing you can reasonably engage in is self-reflection. Either way, I am happy that I’ve been blessed with your company, Verity. Since you’ve barged into my life, my thoughts have become much sharper-- much more direct, and free of its meandering tendencies. I suspect that I may have needed an… opponent, so to speak. Not an enemy, no, but someone who wouldn’t be afraid to challenge my views. When you’re a captain,” or a queen, for that matter, “it can be hard to find such people sometimes.”

But, ah, curses! What if the memory she had shared with Inure wasn’t enough? Her proudest moment it had been, yes, but even that pride was rooted in filth-- in overcoming the monster they’d turned her into, both with sweet words and a cruel whip. For her, it had been good enough, but for a creature as pure as Inure? In her eyes, it might be the very reason to reject her! An admission that, yes, captain Iskra had been a wicked woman at one point, and once a wicked woman, always a wicked woman. (Had she cut off the branch she was standing onr? Beneath her, there was only the abyss, the darkness that yearned to embrace her so, so bad, and as for what she wanted… well, that didn’t enter into it. It never had.)

For a few heartbeats, Iskra was sure that she had failed. Inure had closed her heart off, unwilling to speak to a soul as tarnished as hers, and… and that hurt, more than she would have liked to admit. The honor had never been supposed to be hers, yes, but Verity believed her to be worthy, didn’t she? To receive the confirmation that she had been wrong about that was soul-crushing, almost, but then-- then she heard it! Inure’s voice, as sweet as a song. ‘Yes, it is me. Iskra. I am thankful for the opportunity to truly meet you, Inure.’ The pirate would have apologized, apologized for the way she had seized her, but on some level, she sensed that that wasn’t what the ship wanted, you know? This wasn’t about guilt, and atoning for one’s crimes-- no, as she understood it, this was a celebration. ‘I did take a while, yes, and for that, I am sorry. I knew not who you were, otherwise I would have introduced myself much earlier. Still, now that I know, I shall never abandon you. For as long as you’ll have me, I am yours.’ The burst of colors was dazzling, more than any fireworks she had ever seen, an ah, to have her mind expanded in such a way? Truly, the pirate was blessed.

…wait. Was Verity speaking to her, actually? “Ah! I am sorry, my dear-- I couldn’t hear you. I feel fine, though. More than fine. If I were to describe the feeling… I would say it was like having your mind filled with water, really. That, but pleasant. I am not doing it any justice, am I? I suppose that words will never be enough to pain the experience in colors as vivid as it deserves! Now that me Inure and are on the same page, though? There is no time to waste,” Iskra declared, firmly. “Let’s pay Lady Jezebel a visit, shall we?” Reaching out to the ship with her mind, she handed her the coordinates, and-- oof. Why hadn’t anyone warned her just how strange the sensation would be? It felt like being pulled through a hole, far too narrow for her body to ever fit through! It did fit in the end, though, and soon enough, the crew found themselves hovering above Jezebel’s mansion. …her mansion, that for some reason looked like a large clock tower? “…this is new,” Iskra muttered. “Before, she lived in a literal castle. Do you think the change might signify something, Verity?”

 

[starboob]

♕ PRINCESS VERITY (EXILED) ♕​

Even as a descendant, Verity will never get used to the feeling of warping space and Time to travel. Had she known that Iskra was so eager to get started on their journey, and so eager to use the new features Inure has just shared with her, she might have warned the pirate that is feels like being squeezed through a tube. She also would have recommended issuing a warning to the rest of the crew, but no matter. What's done is done and as they float over the asteroid belt that lady Jezebel calls her home, her eyes widen when she spots the clocktower. 'Was it not mere months ago that I saw this woman's estate? I do not recall it looking so... tame,' because in comparison to her castle, the clocktower is rather plain. The castle, after all, had been grandiose and spread so far that lady Jezebel had had to string together several large asteroids to account for the estate's size. Though to think that this means that the owner of this new, odd manor has developed a sudden appreciation for "minimalism" is utterly foolish. No woman can change her heart so quickly and certainly not one as steeped in evil as lady Jezebel's own. That, Verity is most certain of, so to see her manner magnificently transformed? And so quickly, too? Oh, she suspects something is afoot.

Instinctively, she grabs Iskra's hand and laces their fingers together. "I... I know not what this could mean, but I have an inkling that this is not good news for us, my pirate. For even if she welcomes us as her guests, getting our answers may not be so straightforward. I worry what we are about to step into," she admits. It is not that she doubts either of their capabilities, for she knows they work well on their own and together they are a storm, but she no longer thinks this task will be so easy that they will be able to blindside the lady of the estate. No, there is something off about this clocktower. Even just looking at it sends chills through Verity's spine. "Our minds must be sharper than our swords, for I do sense a trap... even if the lady could not be expecting us."

That being said, she still initiates contact with clocktower estate––after all, having an infamous ship hovering above one's home likely comes off as a threat. Best to not make her an enemy sooner than they need to. Not when they still need information from this woman. When the call connects a screen appears before Verity, showing the lady of the estate. (Though based on this image alone, Verity cannot make out what else she has done to her body as far as cybernetics are concerned.)

"Princess Verity!" she exclaims in relief, "Oh, I am so glad it is your face that I am seeing. When I was alerted that the Perilous Wind was at my doorstep, my heart shuddered in fear." She knits her heavily threaded brows together in suspicion, "However, I knew you were in search of the Perilous Wind, but I did not think you would claim it knowing who occupied it before you... Curious, because I have not heard celebration of captain Iskra's demise? Did you strike a trade with her?"

"Ah," Verity chuckles, and pulls Iskra into view, "You are correct in that the captain is alive and well. We did strike a deal of sorts. As it would turn out, our goals are in alignment and we have formed an unlikely alliance––blessed be the Divinities," an obvious stretch of the truth, but when it comes to villains one has to know when to wear a veil. "The threads of the universe surely work in mysterious ways, lady Jezebel."

"That they do. That they do, darling. Any who, to what do I owe this pleasure, princess?" the lady asks, eyeing the pirate with suspicion before her gaze returns to Verity with warmth (or is it searing? It is hard to discern through a screen).

"I thought I ought to thank you for the tip on tracking my ancestors' ship. For without your insights, princess Halen and I would not have ever found her. I would have made a formal request an audience, but, ah, I happened to be in the neighborhood. That, and," she starts, an idea forming on the spot as she moves to remove Telos from her hip, "I was wondering if you could appraise an item for us? I think it will peak your interest––we are, unfortunately low on funds. Revolutions are not cheap, after all." She then lifts the relic into view and unsheathes it for the woman to see. It must strike her fancy, because not soon after they are given access to one of the hanger bays and invited into the clocktower.

Just before they are about to step off the ship, Verity turns to Iskra, "I apologize for not running that by you––I would not insult Telos or you like that, I just suspected it would draw her interest. I do not mean to actually part with Telos, I have learned my lesson with Gwenwyn. If you are cross with me, I understand. I should have asked."

 

[Syntra]

“Indeed,” Iskra agreed, “I do not doubt that good news shall be a rare resource around here.” And how not, really? From filth, only more filth could arise, so the construction of the clock tower did not strike her as a positive development. (Sure, sure, lady Jezebel could have found some humility-- technically, it wasn’t impossible for her to recognize the error of her ways, and maybe change her home for it to reflect the impermanence of the human existence. What, after all, was more powerful than time? More likely to make you realize just how insignificant you were, in comparison to the planets and stars? Time bent you when other things couldn’t, and it did so without mercy, without exceptions. Under its deadly touch, wealth, too, turned to dust! The ultimate justice, truly. Where the human laws failed, time stepped in, and reminded you that, no, you weren’t special, and that the rules applied to you, too. To hope that lady Jezebel had understood it, though? Pfft! That would have been like thinking that the slave owners from the remote corners of the galaxy had seen the light, and released the countless women they’d captured. It could happen, Iskra supposed, as it didn’t violate any universal principles, but as for how likely it was? Ah, the hell would sooner freeze over! The monsters only worshiped money, money, money, and for them to set their gazes on anything else… well, the pirate suspected that someone would have to gouge their eyes out.) “Paranoia never hurts in these situations, I think. It is imperative that we stay on guard, for nobody knows what lies in wait for us.”

Soon enough, however, they would find out. The familiar face of lady Jezebel appeared on the screen, and Iskra couldn’t help but wince-- for some reason, nobles all over the galaxy had mastered the art of stabbing you with their stares alone, and she was no exception to that rule. (What did she see upon looking at her? A miserable worm, barely capable of cognitive processes? Someone so low on the social ladder that the lady coughing in her direction should be considered a sign of the gods’ favor? Something like that, the pirate did not doubt! All too often, these ladies and princesses and duchesses thought that they were more than common folks, solely because they’d had the sense to be born into the right family. You know what was fun, though? That the so-called blue bloods bled the same color as everyone else, and it was red, red, red! …to many of them, Iskra had shown exactly that, too. Of all the blood that she had ever spilled, that, indeed, had been her favorite. Would the Shade be kind enough to allow her to experience such joy again, hmmm? She certainly hoped so.)

Of course, Verity wasted no time in inventing a suitable excuse. Which, splendid! Brilliant, even! No, Iskra judged her not for weaving this web of lies-- the truth was a rare jewel, the most beautiful of pearls, and the likes of lady Jezebel did not deserve to gaze upon it. Why was such treasure on one who would spit on it, after all? Oh no, no, no! The woman was likely to put wool over their eyes as well, so the pirate felt no moral obligation not to, as Ylna would have put it, lie her ass off. “It is so,” she confirmed before nodding resolutely. “Surely, a lady as learned as yourself must understand that even foes can find a common ground? The music of coins chinking in your pocket is instrumental in reaching that understanding, I’ve come to realize.” Oh yes, yes, Verity wasn’t the only one who could lie when needed! And something, a half-forgotten instinct, perhaps, told Iskra that it wouldn’t be too wise for them to disclose the true nature of their relationship now. (The nobles loved their mind games, you see? Better to paint false weak spots for them to target, really, than take off your trusty armor.)

“Oh, of course!” lady Jezebel clapped. “Life really is the best storyteller, isn’t she? So many fates she has connected, many of them… hmm, rather unlikely.” ‘Unlikely,’ Iskra imagined, was a euphemism for ‘ridiculous’-- who had ever heard of a princess and a pirate cooperating, right? Really, truly cooperating, rather than the latter being under the former’s thumb. (A woman like her could never understand it, the pirate suspected. Hell, Iskra herself barely could! Whatever she and Verity had, it was far too precious, far too beautiful, to restrict with the weight of an exact definition.) The princess exchanged a few words with the lady, then, and far easier than Iskra would have thought possible, the door opened. “…what? No, I don’t blame you, Verity,” she shook her head, a small smile on her lips. “What you did with Telos was necessary, and thus not a sign of irresponsibility. It is the intent that matters, not what you actually do. When gangrene is eating your arm alive, cutting it off is an act of wisdom, isn’t it? And yet, when your arm is healthy, doing so is the very definition of foolishness. No, no, Verity-- you cannot judge two situations with one criterion! For now, let us rejoice that we were able to get inside that easily.”

And, when they entered? Iskra gasped in shock, for the walls were covered in clocks-- thousands of hour hands were moving, both clockwise and counterclockwise, at different speeds, too, and… oof. Wasn’t it disorienting? Disorienting and useless? What a strange aesthetic to worship, she thought, unable to look away. What could have motivated her to transform her mansion into that, huh? A fear of death? Perhaps, though the time for speculations was over! Wrapped in dark silks, you see, the lady of the house emerged from behind one of the corners. “Princess Verity, captain Iskra,” Jezebel curtsied, like the well-behaved aristocrat she was. “I have to say, truly, that I was surprised to learn of you two working together. Nevertheless, I welcome you in my humble, humble home. To honor our blooming friendship, we shall dine on the finest of delicacies tonight. Also, ah, princess Verity? The sword you’ve got here is quite exquisite, I have to say. May I inspect it from up close?”

Whether the princess allowed it or not, Jezebel grabbed it, and then… then Iskra froze in the middle of her movement, along with everything else. The clocks stopped all at once, as if someone had just pushed a pause button, but the strangest thing about it? That, along with lady Jezebel herself, Verity was unaffected. “Good job, princess,” the lady smirked. “Great job, actually. I presume that you are aware of the game, then? Of the whales’ song? If your companion is the sacrifice you brought, I will have to run some tests first, but I don’t think there will be problems. What is the reward that you ask?”

 

[starboob]

♕ PRINCESS VERITY (EXILED) ♕​

Slipping into her former self is as easy as perusing through your closet and remembering a long forgotten coat, shoved towards the back, and pushed aside in favor of the newer coats you had bought. Yet, slipping it back on is like reacquainting with a familiar friend and wondering why you ever lost contact. Though, Verity supposes she doesn't consider her former self an entire friend. There are plenty of things that woman did that she is not proud of and like Iskra has tried to be better for her, she has tried to be better for Iskra, for her pirate deserves only the best she has to offer. She had worried how her companion may judge her for her decision to not be true, but she knows donning the mask is necessary. It is the best way to handle those like lady Jezebel who treat Life as a game. Verity may not have been the best player on the board when she started her legacy as a princess, but she has improved leagues since then. 'For both our protection, I must be that princess once again.'

The state of lady Jezebel's manor is hardly surprising to her, though she does make note of Iskra's gasp and has to resist the urge to smile. No, she can show no affection towards her comrade, for that will only put them in further jeopardy. They are merely business partners. There is nothing more between them. (Because even if nothing is official, Verity does sense something deeper than friendship transpiring between them. Especially in the late evening hours where they lose Sleep to talking, making sure to savor every second of the day before they part to their separate quarters. Bitter are their goodnights, but how she looks forward to morning when she knows there is another day to spend by Iskra's side.) So she makes sure to walk several steps in front of the pirate, with her head held high.

True to custom, Verity does not return the curtsy. Instead she does a once over of the lady's form and offers an approving smile, "Greetings, lady Jezebel. It is a pleasure to be with your company once more. I see you have greatly renovated your estate since last we met. I must say, I do miss the collection of your prior manor." And she's not lying when she says that! With all the clocks tick, tick, ticking, it gives the atmosphere an eerie quality and it's enough for the princess to miss the extravagance of her last home. It had been gaudy and kitsch, to be sure, but it had not chilled her spine. (It is also not lost on Verity that the woman appears mostly normal––her eyes are a brilliant electrifying blue, but even that is tame. For as far as she can tell, the woman has rid herself of that awful arachnid form as she does not hear the taps of her spindly legs as she moves through the clocktower. However, her petticoat is so large that the princess cannot make out what shape her legs are taking now. She does not even want to make any guesses as to what exactly is beneath her skirts.)

However, some of lady Jezebel's enhancements are made known when she reaches for Telos and her arms stretch out like rubber as she clasps her fingers around her sword from several feet away. It's so shocking that the princess cannot even resist the other woman's claim to the sword and when it's in her hands? Verity notices that the pounding ticks of all the clocks cease and she looks backwards towards her companion, realizing that Iskra appears frozen. Immediately, she recognizes that they are in danger though she does not let her surprise or concern show. No, a princess and a pirate working together? They can only ever be business partners where one waits to stab the other in the back (and heart, she reminds herself none too kindly). "How clever, lady Jezebel. I see you have invested your Time wisely," she jests, with a pleasant chuckle before her attention returns to the other woman. (Manipulating Time, just how bigheaded does this woman have to be? Ugh, and to think she must make nice with her to ensure both herself and Iskra have the upper hand––and now she must be twice as careful with Iskra's current state.)

"Ah, the game of the whales' song? No, I unfortunately am not familiar with this practice," she hums, her concern growing in the pit of her stomach though she is careful to appear disaffected. "That sounds most amusing. Though, I must say, the rats aboard my ship may not take too kindly to their captain being sacrificed. What would my revolution be if my head is lobbed off my shoulders?"

Even if she expresses some form of concern for her companion, she hides it quickly by easily breezing to the next subject without caring for the answer. "The reward for the sword? My are you losing your edge," she teases, "Don't you know it's never wise to be the first to name a price. I tell you what, tell me more about this game, have your servants prepare us some tea, and we can discuss this more," she smiles sweetly.

 

[Syntra]

"Oh," lady Jezebel smiled, and it gods, was it an ugly smile, "so you aren't aware. It was a mere coincidence that brought you to my doorstep, then? No matter, no matter! A coincidence, after all, is fate's beloved daughter. Regardless of your motivations, I believe that we shall be able to arrive to an agreement. In you, I see a kindred spirit, you know? A woman who might understand the... hmm, delicacy of my plight. For now, let's leave the pirate to her devices. She won't be bored here, I assure you-- in fact, I am fairly sure that her mind is spinning a very interesting fantasy for her as we speak. Wouldn't you agree, dear princess, that we mostly live in our minds? Ah, yes, so many different stimuli, indeed! Conversing over a cup of tea sounds delightful, however. Come, follow me." Elegant like a ballroom dancer, Jezebel turned around and headed... well, somewhere, each of her steps accompanied by soft, metallic clanking. (What was it that was hidden behind her skirts? If her previous arachnid form had been part of the pattern rather than an unfortunate lapse, it couldn't have been too savory, that was for certain.) Soon enough, they entered what had to be a living room-- the clocks had stopped in this room as well, but it seemed that that hadn't affected the young, collared woman who happened to be sweeping dust there. (The thing around her neck? An ugly, black circle made of some unknown metal, obviously way too tight for comfort.)

"Ah, lady Jezebel!" she looked at her mistress, terror in her eyes. "I, ah, apologize. I didn't know there were going to be guests. Had I been aware, I would have--"

"If I am ever interested in your excuses, Leilani, I will let you know in advance," the woman smiled, in this way that said 'shut up now if you don't want to get hurt.' "Meanwhile, bring us some tea, please. My guest is a princess, so we cannot disappoint her, now can we? Make sure it's good, otherwise there will be consequences. Princess," she then turned to Verity, as if casually threatening your servants was not only acceptable, but also somewhat expected, "sit down. We have much to speak about, indeed. But, ah, where should I start with my explanations? I cannot believe you know nothing about the sword that brought you here, and in that, intertwined your fate with my own! Truly, gods have the most peculiar sense of humor." With a gentle laugh, the lady sat down and put one of her legs over the other. (The sea of fabrics revealed more than it ought to then, if only for the briefest of moments, and as for what Verity glimpsed? It was... hard to tell what it was exactly, really. Something metallic, undoubtedly, and full of bizarre angles, but to categorize it? Oh, it simply made one's brain hurt!)

"Have you ever thought about time, princess? About its true nature?" lady Jezebel smiled at her after the maid brought them a teapot, and poured both of them a cup. (The liquid was fragrant and rose-colored, and something about it reminded Verity of cotton candy. Not the texture or anything like that, but the general idea, somehow? The concept behind it, in other words.) "Because I have. I've come to the conclusion, my princess, that time is the greatest tyrant-- the ultimate foe that womankind will have to beat if we are to become... hmm, something better. Something more advanced. Now, where do the great whales from your pirate's homeland come into it? The answer becomes simple, once you know all the circumstances. The truth is that they are ageless, and so is everything that they touched. The legends claim so, anyway. And, those legends?" she leaned closer to Verity, obviously wanting to share some grand secret. "They claim more than that, actually. Within those ancient texts, I believe, there is a recipe for immortality. I'm only telling this because I trust you," highly doubtful, "so please, don't prove me wrong. I have wanted to share the spoils of my research with another for a while, you see? And you, with your impeccable pedigree... yes, I doubt that there would be anyone more suitable." Oh, alright! So Jezebel actually had dynastic concerns in mind, in addition to everything else. Had she grown bored of being a mere lady, perhaps? 'Queen' had a better ring to it, of course!

"However," because there always had to be however, "I'm afraid that the magic is based on blood. For some reason, it always is! How boring, if you ask me. Fortunately, I believe that captain Iskra would be a perfect candidate for a sacrifice-- perhaps the stars themselves sent her to me, really, as a gesture of their good will. It cannot be a coincidence, you see? Her connection to the whales is all too convenient, and yet all too rare in the context of everything else. No, no, I sincerely believe that we were meant to meet, my princess. Will you hand her over, then? If you fear for your own safety, you don't need to feel like that anymore-- I shall not force you to return to those brutes. In fact," she batted her eyelashes coquettishly, "I'd like to keep you by my side. Would you not like to benefit from my research as well? Precious roses ought to be preserved, after all! I'd hate, hate, hate the idea of one such as yourself withering, and falling victim to the barbaric processes that happen inside of our bodies. Robbing the universe of such beauty would be a crime, surely!"

 

[starboob]

♕ PRINCESS VERITY (EXILED) ♕​

A smile without humanity is not a smile at all and yet lady Jezebel wears hers like a queen wears her crown. It's unsettling, really, how comfortable she is and how she sees nothing wrong with her habits. 'Disgusting. Even if she is not the culprit behind the devastation of the space turtles I see no reason to allow her to carry on,' the princess thinks with a saccharine smile painted on her lips. (Truly, she forgot how easy it is to be so fake and now she remembers why honor is the path not many choose.) Instead she nods along to lady Jezebel's prattlings, each word like a sour note on a violin and Verity does not know how long her patience might last. She only holds on for the sake of her pirate, frozen in Time, and perhaps being tormented already. The lady's words do make it seem as though Iskra is in a comfortable position. Still, she does not look backwards towards her companion as they depart from the main hall. She only thinks, 'Be well, my sweet. I shall make sure Justice is delivered, in one form or another.' (Ah, if only she were blessed with telepathy! To be assured her pirate is safe and for her pirate to know she is with her––what she wouldn't give.)

When they enter the living room, Verity takes a seat on the sofa, crossing one leg over the other. Her head turns about the room, admiring or scrutinizing the decorum and her eyes linger for a bit too long on the servant's throat. Her own neck wants to stretch out in sympathy for the woman, and once more she resists showing such softness. Instead, once the servant has left the room, she only makes a passing comment, "Do send her up to my room later. I, ah, shall want to see the other ways she might serve––if you do not mind that is. As you can imagine, bedtime company is hard to find when you're constantly surrounded by women who are incapable of even washing their own asses."

"Ah, but nevermind my fancies," she chuckles and it sounds a sweet as a morning bird's song, "I must agree it must have been good fortune that reunites us," if only so she may stick Telos between her teeth and Gwenwyn through her ribs. "When I asked the pirate what she might be willing to part with in order to fund our quest, she mentioned the sword and, admittedly, I thought to myself, 'A blasted sword? What could that ever be worth? I have hundreds worth pennies.' Though she assured me of its significance and immediately, my dear lady Jezebel came to mind as a potential buyer. What a blessed day, the Divinities must be smiling," because they know their descendant will serve Justice for her utter disrespect to their nature. When the lady settles into her seat, Verity's eye catch on the glittering beneath the folds of her dress and, oh, that sense of dread that filled her belly when she first laid eyes on the clocktower? It has grown from the size of an apricot to a melon. 'Careful, Verity. There is much more at stake than you realize,' she reminds herself.

Now when Jezebel continues on with her speech that seems to have no other point than holding Verity hostage? Her heart stops as the subject turns to Time and she has a sense, now, where this is all leading and it knots her belly into a noose. The flare of heat that rises through her heart? She barely contains herself, lifting her cup of tea as a simple distraction. She doesn't even register it's aroma or its sickening airy sweet quality. Though she quickly has to set the glass down, careful to not chink it against its plate, as she listens to one of the most infuriating expressions of hubris she has ever heard. (Cheating Life, Time, and Death all at once? Who does this woman think she is? A star, a great creator? Oh, her head has been filled will ill-praise for far too long and Verity can already picture the swift motion of Gwenwyn piercing her belly. It would be so easy. So quick, too. Would Jezebel even bleed? Or would she short-circuit? Verity ventures to guess the woman is more machine than flesh at this point. Especially with the lengths she is willing to go in order to cheat Death. As if Death is not an honor for a Life well lived and Time well spent.)

'Ah, so she wants to be an immortal queen. Why does this sound so familiar,' she thinks to herself, bitterly, while her mouth hangs in faux-awe for the woman's clever ambition. As if she truly is invested in this idea to escape the supposedly cruel and cold clutches of Death herself. 'As if.' "Myself? You think me to be worthy of such an honor. I––" she pauses, making it seem as though she is too stunned for words. "Had I known this was your mission when we first met all those months ago, I would have done more to aid in your research! Never have I met someone willing to conquer one of the two known universal truths. I must say there is something quite, hm, alluring about a woman with such ambitions," she bats her eyelashes with a giggle.

Then, leaning into the investment, she listens as the lady continues to explain what is needed to make this happen and suddenly? Suddenly the pieces are coming together to reveal the most unholy, most ugly picture. "Oh, you flatter me, lady Jezebel," she smiles as her mind works to figure a way from this woman's clutches. 'Blood, huh? Why not yours?' Carefully, she must consider what lady Jezebel knows of Iskra's homelands and Iskra herself. Does she know the pirate already has the ability to cheat Death? Does she know about the Shade and is she attempting to infuse them both with that wretched ink blot? All she knows is that she will not let the pirate be sacrificed. Even with the Shade, she does not trust this woman's methods. (In her mind's eye she remembers one of the memories Iskra had shared, one where one of her former commanding officers had a recruit's Shade removed and, well, she worries. She worries so much because she does not know enough about what lady Jezebel does and does not know. No risks can be taken at this juncture. She cannot bet that this is a simple sacrifice, she is most certain of that.) 'Quickly, quickly... There is not the Time to waste before suspicion is sowed.'

"Though everything you say certainly makes my heart dance, I am afraid I have my doubts. Do forgive me, lady Jezebel, you must understand that I come from a planet where we explain things with science, not magic––two sides of the same coin, as I have learned in my travels, but my mind has trouble understanding just how you hope to accomplish this goal. Or even the success. There must be some risk, no?" she raises an brow and reaches for her cup of tea, bringing it to her lips. "I am going to need some insurance that I am not risking my throne to false promises. To that end, I trust my current allyship more than the one extended before me," she uncrosses her leg, readying herself to strike, though she remains outwardly relaxed. Just simply adjusting her position. 'Patience. You are not in friendly waters and a strike too early may only mean a certain Death.'

 

[Syntra]

"I have known from the very beginning," Jezebel gave her another of her false smiles, "that finding common ground wouldn't be difficult with you. It's in our blood, you see? Unlike the filthy peasants, we with good pedigree are... hmm, more adept in finding solutions that actually benefit everyone. Isn't that right, princess?" ...did she know about Verity's background, perhaps? That she'd been chosen for merit, and not for the blood coursing in her veins? Because, if so, then this half-woman, half-machine was actually insulting her! (Ah, yes, many nobles' favorite technique-- an insult as subtle as a drop of poison in your meal, but just as deadly. Such blows were designed to confuse, to make your doubt your own perception of the events, and the most tragic thing about it? It worked, in the most basic of senses. A perfect weapon, really.) "But, yes, if you wish, I shall lend the girl to you. Consider it a gesture of goodwill, my dear. Do let me know if you were satisfied afterwards, too! If not, I will have her whipped," Jezebel announced before taking a sip from her cup. "She should be able to treat her betters properly, you see? I personally haven't trained her in such a way yet, but it's never too late to start. I only ask one thing of you, princess-- don't damage her too much. The girl still has her duties, and I expect that tomorrow, she will attend to them. Oh, and leave her face alone, too. Personally, I hate looking at bruises. They demonstrate the inherent weakness of the flesh, you know? To me, there are few things less appealing than that." Ah, yes, because obviously, the girl's injuries would be about her-- about her, and how they made her feel. Uh huh.

"Nevertheless," lady Jezebel's lips curled up in a smile, "I am pleased, indeed, to hear that you are fascinated with the prospect. Again, aiming for the stars seems to be our instinct, doesn't it? Always, we desire to go higher, higher and higher! In all things," she smirked, the innuendo about as subtle as a brick in one's face. Gross! "In fact, I consider it to be a duty of sorts. I have been blessed both with wealth and unparalleled intellect, so if not me, then who will push the boundaries of being human? The commoners, too ignoring to even wash their hands? No, I don't think so," the woman shook her head. "It is up to me and me only, to contribute towards the advancement of our race. Well, me and you, if you do agree to join me. Although... your decision has already been made for you, right? I mean, I cannot imagine that you'd ever refuse such an opportunity. Dance this dance we must, yes, but this is a foregone conclusion, isn't it? In the end, you'll say yes. You'll scream it at the top of your lungs, I'm sure." Ah, well. One couldn't accuse her of lacking in confidence, that much was obvious! The woman had never been denied a single privilege in her life, and now that she'd set her sights on Verity? In her twisted, twisted perspective, the princess was already hers, too.

"Risks? Oh, yes, of course that there are risks," Jezebel snorted. "You cannot hope to think that a step so drastic wouldn't hurt a little bit, now can you? Growing pains are a thing, and together, we'll grow beyond the boundaries of what we thought is possible. Your very bones will be stretched thin, princess, but that which you'll receive in return? It'll be far more precious than any treasure you've ever laid your eyes upon. Why, even your queen Seraphina shall turn green with envy! Wouldn't you like that? There is no better dish than revenge, if you ask me." Alright, so how much did she know about the two of them, exactly? The woman's information network was vast, and much had gotten stuck in it, but to think she could have discovered those intimate details... No, no, surely not!

When Verity expressed her doubts, however, Jezebel only chuckled. "A sensible approach. You know what? I shall not try to convince you with words, for we both know just how unreliable those can be. No, those simply aren't enough. What if I allowed you to examine the fruits of my research instead? Seeing for yourself will turn those doubts into enthusiasm, I am convinced. You see," the lady rose from her chair, and pressed what had to be some hidden button on her wrist watch, "all life comes from the ocean. The universe is but its paltry imitation-- that is why we call the vehicles that traverse it ships, and why we have so many nautical metaphors in general. Does it not make sense, then, that the key to immortality could be found in there as well?" There was a soft, metallic clanking, and with the help of an unseen mechanism, the clocks on one of the walls were moved aside. And, in the empty space that remained there? Verity could see an aquarium, filled with... gods, was that blood? If not, then it sure as hell resembled it, given the shade of red. "This is it," she whispered. "The prototype. It's not perfect by any means, princess, for the effects aren't permanent yet, but it's a start. A promise, whispered in the wind. Let me demonstrate, alright?" Without further explanations, lady Jezebel walked over to the container, and put her fingers inside, only to... uh, spread the substance over her lips? (It colored them crimson, crimson like rubies, and that made her look like one of the vampires from the legends of old. The contrast between the blood, and the paleness of her skin? Oh yeah, not the healthiest look in the world.)

"Magic it is, princess, but that doesn't mean there can be no proof. In that, your beloved science is but magic's sister," she said, her eyes shining with strange light. (It seemed to paint shadows all over her face, wild and haunting. Was it just her imagination, or could Verity see something monstrous in her features? Something wolf-like?) "Go on, then. Kill me, and see for yourself how that works out for you. With your own eyes, witness the extent of my genius!"

 

[starboob]

♕ PRINCESS VERITY (EXILED) ♕​

The poison that falls from lady Jezebel's mouth does not seep under Verity's skin. She won't allow it. This woman, she realizes, is far too clever and for the princess to think that she is simply chattering on like an unknowing woman? That would be foolish. Oh, no, no! Verity will not be made a fool under the presumption that lady Jezebel knows nothing of her people and their traditions. The woman, despite being an abomination to all things natural, is not stupid. Verity remembers that from their previous meeting. Her thirst for knowledge, or rather insatiable lust, rivals that of her own and yet lady Jezebel will stop at nothing to know everything and at least the princess knows when to respect that which is not meant for her to understand. So, yes, she does register the insult, and she does not let it show. Instead, she decides to play as if she still has all the cards. As if her pedigree is in her blood. (And if she is wrong? If lady Jezebel knows nothing of Aurora? Well, it is still much wiser to continue playing along than to out herself as a former peasant.) "Oh, yes, yes. I thank the Divinities everyday for the rights to royalty, for squabbling for scraps is such an undignified look," she laughs, "Have you ever tossed your leftovers into a crowd of beggars? A most entertaining sight," and she still remembers how the council women had turned it into a sport among themselves. (It churns her stomach just thinking about it.) "Women can just be so, ah, vicious you know." Oh, and it's not a mistake or slip of her tongue that puts emphasis on vicious. It is a warning and the only one she shall get. At this point, she figures the illusions are about to crumble.

(And how she speaks of her servants? Her blood grows hotter and hotter by the second; so much so, she is surprised her own skin has not begun to melt or that she has not burst into a miniature star. Yes, control is slipping from her fingers and perhaps in her earlier days she could have held onto her cool for longer, but having tasted the merits of honesty? She is a bit out of practice. Ah, as if it will matter because in moments she will have her sword stuck in the belly of the beast. She will slay every enemy in this damn tower if she must. In her mind she can already see it and picture it with such clarity that she is convinced of its truth; that it will happen. That she will watch that woman's head fly off her shoulders.) "Ah, so long as she gives me no reason to be displeased, I think you can count on her ability to fulfill her more droll duties," she says, averting her gaze away from the monster in front of her, finding it increasingly difficult to hold the other woman's eye.

At this point Verity cannot tell or be arsed to care whether lady Jezebel is purposefully trying to infuriate her. It's either that or her hubris has grown so large she will surely be like Icarus flying too close to the sun. Pah. To have a lady speaking to a princess in such a way almost confirms that she knows more about Aurora than Verity would have thought possible. (Just who is even giving her this information? Her people are rather wary of foreigners after the first world. Granted, knowing Seraphina's name is not a huge deal. Her name would be in the galactic records of monarchs and other rulers. Knowing how they became divided, even, is not so outlandish. Making the leap that Verity would want revenge is a logical conclusion to jump to and the lady is logical, if nothing else. Still, the princess is growing more wary by the second. Perhaps this is just her paranoia talking. Perhaps this means nothing at all. And perhaps this means everything.) "I––" she clears her throat, feeling it tighten, "I have to say, you are quite the well informed woman. Perhaps we have much to gain from this partnership if you are as knowledgeable as you seem. I am always in want of women who appreciate intellectual pursuits."

Rising from her seat to follow the woman as she decides to offer a demonstration of her research, Verity has to hold back her surprise when the blood filled tank is revealed. (Her eyes do search the tank for any sign of Life inside, but the liquid is so thick she'd only be able to see whatever is swimming in there, if anything, if it were to press its body up against the tank itself.) She clasps her hands behind her back and digs her nails into her arm as she witnesses this horrific woman work. She has read of women who bathed in the blood of virgins in a quest for youth; she has read of immortal women who seduced mortals to feast on their blood to keep their vitality intact; the noble before her no different than those from the records. (Blood, blood, blood––it all comes back to that substance, as lady Jezebel had mentioned earlier.) Soon, Verity's own vision starts to color red as she watches the scientist work. (She remembers the way Seraphina used to bite her neck––always too rough, even before she tried to rip her throat out in the final trial. The faint scar on her own neck burns with the sight of the woman in front of her.) Desperately, she wishes that Iskra were here beside her as her mind takes her to a place she would rather not be and her mask is beginning to crack sooner than she'd like. Earlier, she may have been okay with it, but that had been when she felt more in control of herself and now it it breaking for reasons out of her control.

"Ah, kill you?" she says, her voice cracking and it can easily be attributed to the request. Though there is enough room to wonder otherwise. Still, Verity does not let her hesitation last for too long as she pulls out Gwenwyn, her multicolored blade shimmering under the living room lights. "Rarely is that a way to make a partnership, but I must say that this shall be the story to tell someday," she adds, recovering in slight from her prior slip. She twirls her blade a few Times experimentally as she approaches lady Jezebel, eyes fixating on those rouged lips. 'Kill her, huh?' Well, if lady Jezebel expects Verity to go for an easy target such as her belly, jugular, or heart she is sorely mistaken. The princess has learned a thing or two about killing immortals in her Time with Iskra. So rather than go for a wound that can close, she swings her blade towards lady Jezebel's neck, aiming to lob off her head as she has imagined so many Times before during this meeting. 'Try reviving without a head, you ugly wench!'

 

[Syntra]

“Vicious,” lady Jezebel repeated, tasting the word on her tongue. “Yes, yes, indeed. Don’t you think it most unsightly, princess? The way those women don’t hesitate to sacrifice their dignity just to secure a few miserable crumbs is the proof of their animalistic nature, I think. It is also why it is needed that they do not always get their heart’s desires-- animals, after all, know not what is good for them. Have you ever had a dog, Verity?” she batted her eyelashes coquettishly. “I have. Lovely creatures, truly. When you look in their eyes, you are almost, almost compelled to believe that they actually have souls, you see? That they actually know what’s good for them! And yet, have you ever tried offering a dog a bar of chocolate? It is poison to them, much like cyanide to us, and despite that, they will eat it. Happily, too! The thing is, them having any sort of autonomy is a lie. We ascribe meanings to that which is inherently meaningless, my princess, and in a similar way, our eyes seek patterns where there aren’t any. Those who have the pedigree of stray cats…” Jezebel shook her head, slowly, as if having to shatter Verity’s ‘delusions’ caused her great pain. “They are not like us. They aren’t, and will never be. Why do you think that we’ve been elevated over them, hm? Because they need someone to watch over them-- to guide them, really. Without proper guidance, they would be blind like bats, and the consequences of that? It isn’t something you want to see, I assure you. Just look at the places where women were foolish enough to get rid of their betters! Things fell in disarray there, without exception, and everyone is much worse off. Hasn’t captain Iskra told you? I believe that her story is, hmm, most educational.” …ah. Did she know about that, too? She must have, quite clearly, but what about the details? Just, how far did her influence reach? The more Jezebel spoke, the more of a mystery she became!

“Oh, that much is true,” she agreed, looking very pleased with herself. “In this day and age, information can be worth more than gold. Wouldn’t you say, princess, that one who doesn’t seek knowledge deserves to lose out? On opportunities, friendships, and life in general.” Again, was that a condemnation? Jezebel, it seemed, loved speaking in riddles-- riddles and half-truths, shrouded in what ifs and maybes. “I just believe that you have to take responsibility for yourself, princess. And, really, isn’t reaching for the impossible the ultimate expression of that? Not even attempting to control what we previously thought to be uncontrollable is a symptom of cowardice, and of terrible short-sightedness as well. I mean, if everyone were to think like this, we’d still live in caves, princess. Still, we’d worship fire, and don the skins of powerful beasts. Don’t you think it’s better to follow the light of progress?” …not if it happened to be so dazzling that it blinded you, of course, but it didn’t seem as if Jezebel took that option into account. (Women like her never did, did they? With their eyes set on the goal, they saw not the cost that others had to pay-- the bloody coin that they had to offer to the ferryman, in order to get where they wanted to be. …did they not see, or did they not wish to see, perhaps? A small difference, maybe, but also crucial one.)

When Verity spoke about killing her, however? Jezebel smiled-- sweetly, oh so sweetly, as if she was describing her favorite childhood memory and not, you know, speaking of potentially being ripped to shreds. “Well, ours is an uncommon partnership, isn’t it? It is only proper, I think, that we make it… hmm, as unforgettable as we can. Worry not, princess! I understand that you may not want to raise your blade against one such as me,” ha, ha, ha, “but there is nothing to be afraid of, you see? Should I truly die, then I can consider it to be a punishment for my hubris.” It must have been a fearsome sight, really-- Verity with a sword in her hand, and with not a hint of mercy in her eyes. Surely, Jezebel wanted to dodge? Except that, against all odds, she didn’t. Like a tower, she just stood there, stood and stood and stood, ready to receive whatever blow the princess was ready to dish out, and… ah! The second her sword was met with the other woman’s neck? Instead of the fleshy resistance Verity might have expected, there was… nothing at all, actually. A strange emptiness, not dissimilar in flavor to the weirdness of trying to fall asleep and almost, almost succeeding, but not being quite there yet! (What? Was she actually dreaming? Because, indeed, everything about this was surreal-- down to the way Verity herself was feeling, given her sudden light-headedness and, ah… pain?! Yes, yes, pain! Somewhere in the area of her neck, roughly where she’d cut lady Jezebel. Could it be? No, surely not! Her aim had been true, her hand steady, and--)

Drip, drip, drip. A few droplets of blood, her own blood, stained her shirt, and the lady only offered her a cold, cold smirk. “My apologies, princess. I suspected that this might happen, but I haven’t actually tested it before. Isn’t it fascinating? Blood needs to flow, as I have theorized, but it doesn’t actually matter who it belongs to, as long as a connection is established. Rejoice, for you’ve become a part of an experiment that will change the universe as we know it!”

 

[starboob]

♕ PRINCESS VERITY (EXILED) ♕​

Lady Jezebel may be right in that where a dog may never be able to learn that chocolate is poison––no matter how many Times you tell them or wrangle the piece from their mouth––she is wrong about people. People are not dogs. They have the ability to learn. Her belief that social stratification is the result of some evolutionary advantage meant only for those born into wealth grates against Verity's nerves for entirely obvious reasons. It is as though she does not believe she is the same species as those born in the slums; that her DNA is somehow written differently despite the similarities in appearance. Oh, Verity wishes to feed her corpse to starved dogs for that is what she deserves. There shall be no commemoration of the once revered and reviled lady Jezebel. She will disappear from the annals of history if Verity has any say in it––she will take away her only true hope for immortality, in other words. The princess will make sure her asteroids burn. (A woman who cannot respect nature and deems herself a goddess is a woman whose soul shall be torn asunder. She cannot imagine there being many goddesses who value a woman's hubris, one where she tries to steal that which is not meant for her. Unholy are the creatures who make such an attempt––like vampires, who live in the liminal space between Death and Life. Of course, that should cause Verity to question the state of her pirate and those who were fashioned like her, but then she remembers that had not been Iskra's choice. She had not sought out immortality. The bastard women before her, who created such a blend of magic, are at fault for stripping the blessing of Death. For only cowards Fear and run from a friend's embrace. Because, yes, Death is a friend––one misunderstood, surely, but a friend still for she takes care of the departed forevermore. The final mother, as she is sometimes referred.)

With all these thoughts swarming in her head, that couple with her wrath, she makes a prayer to Victory to guide her sword. Perhaps her ire is seen in her eyes, because she is no longer donning the mask of a potential ally. No, there is only contempt in her eye as she aims for the ugly woman's neck. Despite her earlier hesitancies, the princess's swing makes no indication that she will back down at the last second. (She has already paid the price of hesitancy once before and she will do so no longer, for she knows a villain's heart is stained in black ink. Whatever gold had once been there has almost always been spent on becoming the monsters they are. She wishes she had known that a year ago.) So when her blade swishes through air instead? With all the force Verity had put into the strike, she nearly loses her balance, but practice with Iskra has taught her better and her foot sticks out to catch her before she can fall.

First there is confusion. The lady had not moved. Verity knows she made her target. Yet there isn't blood. Not lady Jezebel's, anyway. See, next, there is blood. Her own. Quickly followed by a familiar singing sensation across her own neck, a mirror mark of where she would have and should have struck lady Jezebel. Her fist tightens around her sword as she looks up, not bothering to hide her shock because there is no situation wherein she can imagine this would have been expected. (Well, now, Verity is certain she has seen it all.) Her heart hikes up to her throat and she can feel it pushing out more blood. Automatically, her empty hand flies up to her neck to cover the wound that drips, coating her palm in the sticky liquid. 'What is this dark magic?' The wound doesn't appear deep, not as deep as it would have been had it been a true mirror of what she had aimed to do, for her head is still on her shoulders. It also doesn't seem to be quite so deep as to be deadly, only enough to be absolutely jarring.

Still holding onto her sword, because Iskra once taught her to never let go, she stumbles a few steps backwards until she bumps into the arm of the sofa she had been sitting on earlier. She reaches behind her to grab onto it to steady herself, her mind racing for answers that lady Jezebel is not providing. No, all she says is... 'Huh?' The question is likely written on her face too as she looks towards the woman once more. "What have you done?" she snaps, not hiding her agitation––agitation is a reasonable reaction to a trick as dastardly as Jezebel's so she feels no uncertain way about this break. "What have you just made me a part of?" (Now she understands that when lady Jezebel had said Verity would say yes to this arrangement, that she had not been lying. Now she wonders what other truths she should be wary of from their earlier conversation. 'What a bitch!')

 

[Syntra]

"What, indeed?" Jezebel snorted before turning around and clapping her hands excitedly. (Was the gesture meant to make her look like a child? The very embodiment of innocence, pure like water in a mountain spring? The performance would have been moving, truly, had it not been such a cynical parody! Because, the look in her eyes? The sharp, calculating gaze, so cold it could freeze the very flames of hell? Oh, it made her seem about as trustworthy as a woman claiming that, no, she knew nothing of the recent murders, while still holding the bloody knife in her hand! ...gods, gods, gods. What could she be planning?) "You wished for a proof, princess," the lady smiled, buzzing with badly concealed excitement. (The one good thing about this mess? In her core, lady Jezebel was a performer-- an actress, hungry for the approval of her audience. Without people perceiving her, her antics made no sense, you see? In her eyes, even pursuing immortality was something you won your fame with, rather than furthering the womankind's knowledge for the sake of knowledge itself. As such, surely she wouldn't keep her plan a secret? Not entirely, anyway.) "I merely provided it, is all. Personal experience is crucial in cases like this, I believe. Women like you cling to rationality too much, dear princess-- with you, it's always why, why, why," she rolled her eyes. "Has it ever occurred to you to ask 'why not,' instead, hmm? Probably not, judging from the way you look at me."

"Either way," Jezebel continued, "logic is an excuse, too. You act all high and mighty, as if it's better than her sister fate, but honestly? You're all blind, like the earth worms who had never seen the sunlight. No, you're worse than that, actually. You set up these... these extremely narrow parameters, and then act as if the entire existence can be found within their constraints. Don't you think that short-sighted? Foolish? And yet, yet you managed to convince yourself that thinking like that is actually a sign of wisdom," she spat out, looking about as satisfied as if she accidentally bit into a piece of lemon. "For that reason, I told myself that I'll have to... hmm, allow you to familiarize yourself with the results of my research in a more intimate way. Wonderful, is it not? I think I have read somewhere that memories are priceless, and here, in my mansion, you're going to make so, so many of them! Enough to last you a lifetime, I'm fairly sure." Blah blah blah, more words. Truly, was she ever going to get to the point? So far, Jezebel was mostly enjoying Verity's undivided attention-- where others might bask in sunlight, she reveled in fear, in the uncertainty the princess must have been drowning in.

"Blood," she continued, "is a bond. That which holds the body together metaphorically, one way or another. Within that channel, your power rests, too. So, I asked myself: 'Are we any better than machines?' Too many are too blinded by their arrogance to admit that, of course, but the answer is that we're worse, actually. Repairing our bodies is both too difficult and too expensive, and oh, how prone their are to malfunctions! Fortunately, however, they share one characteristic with those glorious life forms-- the need for fuel. Your life force, in other words. Now, princess, pray tell: does it matter where you get the fuel from?" A woman more interested in keeping up appearances might give her some time to think about her answer, but sadly, that wasn't Jezebel's case. "It does not. As long as the resource is... hmm, compatible... your body will accept it. And that, my princess, is the key to immortality!" The lady spread her arms, as if she meant to embrace her.

"Well, it's not just that. I have left out some details, and I myself don't understand everything yet, but this is the underlying principle, you know? The path that, if you're brave enough to walk it, will yield the desired results. That being said," she continued, her smile growing uglier by the second, "I have prepared a small demonstration for you. Practice is the best teacher, is it not? Via the cut that you delivered to yourself, princess, I have connected you to the pirate. I took great care to pick someone non-essential," yeah, right, "so that you don't feel too bad if things go awry. Can you feel the life flowing in your veins, Verity? Can you feel it changing you? That is hers gift to you, and mine as well-- a small sample of the immortality that may truly be yours one day, if you succeed. What do you say?"

...wait, what? What, what, what? Did that mean that Iskra was about to--? "Of course, I understand that not every gift is a wanted one," Jezebel chuckled innocently. "I am many things, but barbaric I am not, and so I shall not force you to accept it. There is a way to sever that connection, and preserve the wicked woman's life. Still, me just doing that would be boring, don't you think? And, ah, how I despise boredom! You have no idea, princess. For that reason, then, I shall only give you a hint-- that way, you will surely be more proud of your eventual success as well. Listen well! Somewhere in this mansion of mine, there's a contraption that controls the process. Turn it off, and it will be reversed. If you fail to do it, however? Let's say that the pirate shall die sooner than she probably expected."

 

[starboob]

♕ PRINCESS VERITY (EXILED) ♕​

On and on lady Jezebel drones as if she is some sage sister with something important to say and yet most of what she says could easily be simplified into a few short sentences––and this is coming from Verity, who many think is allergic to brevity. Though, to be fair, much of her irritation has to do with how this woman carries herself. How each word seems to carry this connotation that she is the light shining from the stars themselves when, in reality, she is lucky to be their mere afterthought. And so Verity is held hostage by her words, unable to escape, because, as it happens, she does need to know what has just been done to her; what she has just been made into before she makes any potentially rash decisions––an increasingly onerous task as her mind offers more and more suggestions on how to silence this woman and wipe her off the face of existence. If the Divinities are not willing to intervene on their own, then they must have sent Verity to carry out their work for there is no justification for a woman who seeks to bend the will of Life, Time, and Death. Who wishes to challenge Nature herself. Somehow she has convinced herself that she has been given a gift of clarity; that her wants and Desires are what will push their species towards excellence, because colonizing the entirety of space has clearly not been enough to sate insatiable women. (On some level, she can agree that it is important to ask a question such as, "Why not?" for it opens doors to new discoveries. And yet one must know Balance when making any such attempt at advancement, because one must think of Consequence, which lady Jezebel clearly has not. Oh, no, to her she is above Consequence and so she does not need to consult with Balance. For her, there is only take, take, take until green lands turn to sand. Verity can see it in everything this woman is.)

Though when lady Jezebel finally arrives at the point? Oh, Verity almost wishes she had not asked (and yet is entirely grateful that the lady is forthcoming about something). Her heart stops and for a moment she wonders if Time has frozen around her as it has for Iskra. Her breath is lost somewhere in her throat and a cold sweat breaks over her brow, chilling her body almost immediately. There is no more room for her to pretend that Iskra means nothing to her; her expression clearly indicates that she is everything to her. (Her silver lining, her light in the dark, her hope––everything that Iskra has become to her is starting to crack or slip through her fingers.) "No," she whispers, almost against her will, while her eyes widen in utter horror. She pulls her hand away from her neck and stares at the blood staining her hands as if it is Iskra's blood and she already knows what it is like to have the pirate's blood on her hands.

While Verity knows this wicked woman before her is full of veiled truths and half lies, what choice does she have other than to believe her? Oh, she could be wasting precious Time searching for whatever this contraption is that holds Iskra's Life hostage. Lady Jezebel is an apex predator who seems to enjoy toying with her prey and this can be just another way she screws with the princess's head. 'End her, end her, end her,' a voice chants within her, the weight of Gwenwyn becoming lighter in her hand as if encouraging her to swing and swing until Jezebel is turned to ribbons. 'No, that dark magic may still protect her,' she reminds herself.

Placing her hope in a hopeless woman is not how she wants to operate, and with no other choices clearly available she wastes not another second and dashes out of the living room. The clock tower is large and searching every room will surely only waste Time that she cannot afford to lose, not with Iskra's Life at stake. So she heads up and up and up instead, with the belief that if this place runs on Time then it shall be that mechanism that may be able to put a stop to whatever magic this woman has employed.

Servants bumble about the tower with no sense of urgency and Verity pushes past them without care, her vision laser focused on her goal. When she arrives at the stairs, not trusting the elevator to work, she runs up them until her thighs burn and scream for her to stop, until each breath is painful and her lungs threaten to give out. Yet she knows stopping now will only result in her body failing so she must continue up the endless steps. (Just when has it started to make sense for a princess to save a pirate? So many Times already she has had to wonder if the tropes she had grown up reading had all been wrong!) When she arrives at the top of the tower, where the mechanisms have all stopped, she searches for the lever or button or whatever will turn the contraption back on. (It does occur to her to sever the cables and break the woman's damned clocks permanently, though she guesses she ought to wait a bit longer for that moment.) In the background, she can hear the large clock face behind her trying to tick, tick, tick forward and at the center of the room there is a contraption with gears attempting to turn and are unable to do so. At the side of the contraption there is a lever and immediately, Verity launches for it. With the weight of everything on her shoulders, she jerks the lever, forcing all of the clocks to turn once more.

 

[Syntra]

Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock. Such a normal sound, wasn’t it? The standard soundtrack of women’s lives, no matter where they happened to find themselves. So ordinary was the rhythm, even, that many had stopped hearing it long ago-- to most, it was but quiet buzzing in the back of their minds, to be processed and discarded. The time always marched on, so why monitor such a thing consciously? No, it only ever stood out in occasions such as this one, when the very fabric of the universe had been torn apart! …and, yes, Verity could hear it now. Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock, it resonated in her ears, but, hmmm, didn’t it sound kind of wrong? Far too intense, for one thing? The cadence was all over the place, similar to a dying engine, and when Verity looked around… ah, she could see the hour hands literally racing forward! “Good job,” lady Jezebel praised her, a hint of laughter in her tone. “Was that what you wanted to hear, princess? I mean, it would be completely ridiculous, but considering that you seem to think pulling a lever will solve all of your problems… well, let’s say that it wouldn’t be entirely out of character.” Where was she, even? Verity could hear the lady, yes, but not see her-- what was even stranger, her voice also seemed distant, as if it was reaching her from a distance too great for her mind to truly grasp. Actually… the whole building had changed, hadn’t it? Not too drastically, mind you, but upon closer inspection, her surroundings looked more faded, more decrepit-- a snapshot of a moment far, far in the future, long after their bones had turned into dust. Oh, gods.

“Welcome, welcome!” lady Jezebel cheered, in the tone of a telemarketer desperate to sell whatever cheap nonsense she was peddling. “I am happy that I’ve been granted the privilege of… hmm, showing you my wonderland, let’s say. I have been working on it for a long, long time, you know? Where other women might spend all of their effort on painting the perfect picture, or composing the perfect poem, I chose to do this-- to create the perfect world. A dimension removed from the reality, and all its toxic influences as well!” …wait, what? Lady Jezebel was a liar to be sure, and every single word of hers hid about ten different meanings, but to think that the rabbit hole was this deep… Only madness could have inspired to act like this, indeed. Like a marionette, it was pulling her strings, forcing her closer, closer, closer to the edge of the abyss! (Too bad, though, that there would be others that she would drag down as well. You know, such as Iskra and Verity! And countless different women as well, perhaps, depending on how far her ambitions stretched.)

“I have to say,” she continued, “that I have never dreamed of my premiere being quite as eventful. Yes, princess, you are my very first! In creating the perfect world, you see, I was also burdened with the responsibility of filling it with perfect people. Can you imagine how stressful that is? If you pour shit in crystal clear water, after all, it matters not how pure it was before! In a way, you can consider yourself to be blessed. Originally, you didn’t make it on my list, but when you knocked on my door… well, it was obvious that fate itself wanted it that way, and who am I to deny it? A free woman I may be, yes, but that doesn’t mean I wish to go against every single goddess’ wish! Anyway, I did not think you would go so far for an unwashed pirate,” Jezebel snorted. “You must have enjoyed her company quite a bit, right? A plot twist, certainly, but despair not-- soon enough, I shall find a suitable companion of you. Someone with the right family name, and the right heritage as well. Isn’t it wonderful? Finally, you shall be freed of the terrible, terrible responsibility! Never again will you have to make those hard choices that almost destroyed you, princess.” With each passing second, Verity’s surroundings grew fainter-- transparent, practically, like an old memory. And, what was it that was being revealed in the background? A desert, endlessly vast. (The sand was orange more than gray, and in the sky, a dark sun hung. High above her head, shadows were cruising the skies, too, shadows that resembled people, with twisted forms and twisted souls--)

“How do you like it here, Verity?” Jezebel asked. Bizarrely enough, she almost sounded expectant-- in that moment, you could confuse her for a child who was asking her teacher whether the picture she had drawn was pretty. “I hope that you do, because it is your new home. Hating one’s home would be a terrible tragedy, don’t you think? So, in order to make you feel more welcome, I promise to fill it with your favorite things! Is there anything in particular that would please your heart? You cannot have the pirate because I still need to sacrifice her, but other than that, I shall try to give you anything I can. And, oh, believe me, most things I can reach! There are few material possessions that lady Jezebel cannot obtain, that is for certain. Should you wish for it, princess, I will even pluck the stars from the sky!”

 

[starboob]

♕ PRINCESS VERITY (EXILED) ♕​

Well, Verity supposes she hadn't been that expectant that her plan would have worked at all. A woman who plays god never plays fair, so in that she knows it is not herself she has to blame. Knowing that, however, does not deafen the sound of defeat that fills her ears––which comes in the form of the speeding clock to her left. She doesn't bother looking towards it, because the sound of the gears turning tells her what she needs to know. Whatever magic is holding the tower together works alongside Time, that much has been clear since a few moments after entering the clock tower, and while threads of logic seem to be in short supply she can only deduce what has happened as a result of her folly. Anger immediately floods over her, her patience wearing thin by the second, and soon destruction fills her mind as each word from that woman's mouth grates against her very nerves with such force that all sense of rational and logic is lost.

Lady Jezebel is out of reach, that much Verity is certain of––wherever she is, she has not made herself clear. Iskra, too, is out of reach and the princess does not even know whether she has been saved or shoved deeper into despair as a result of her actions. Based on what the crazed woman says, she can only guess that Iskra is still alive, but for how much longer? That is another mystery. She can only guess the pirate's Death is imminent, however, so it is not as though she is even thinking in days or weeks. That thought, of course, does not sit well with the princess and for how hot her blood is, it also runs cold as that thought surfaces. Destruction, again, is still heavy on her mind, though it is quickly turning inwards towards self-destruction as the overwhelming peril of the situation grips her heart like iron jaws. Once more, Gwenwyn weighs light as a feather in her hand and this Time the suggestion is to turn her poison blade on herself as everything seems to slip from her grasp all at once. If the one source of control she has is own Life, then why not make it hers in the only way she can at this point? 'It wouldn't be hard. You've practiced before...'

She looks down at her blade, like a dog caught in a trap might look at her own leg. The black sun that looms over head reflects back to her in the shimmering metal, along with the shadows that hang above her. It does not inspire hope in the princess. (Maybe, once upon a Time, she could have found the strength to push through this and see hope, but Verity has not had that particular brand of strength since most of her Life slipped through her fingers like grains of sand. If she is to lose Iskra, too? Dramatic as it is, she does not see the want to live. Not while trapped in a mad woman's doll house, because that is all this grand illusion is––)

'No. This is not the way to think. Perilous as this is, Iskra remains alive for the Time being. For as long as that remains true, I shall use every last second devising an escape,' though she still holds Gwenwyn in her hand, she does not let it tempt her. Now, it is her security. There is still a storm raging inside of the princess and she does not let it rule her. Instead, she trudges forward through this desert. There is no point in remaining where the clocktower once stood, for it is gone and to hope it will come back is only wasting the last seconds she may have. The only thing she wants from lady Jezebel? "Your Death," she mutters defiantly, "Your head and heart on a spit. Your entrails fed to the crows..."

She continues forward, lifting her aching legs as high as she can as she moves against the orange terrain. The shadows above her head continue to move with no particular sense of direction. Though the longer she walks through the sands she notices that where they seemed to follow a pointless direction, they now swirl above her. Soon the black sun is no longer visible, covered by the swirling shadows, and in the distance she can make out a point where they pull downward into the center of the desert.

When she reaches the point towards which all the shadows seem to gather? They seem to be calling to her. "Help us, help us––" they chant, sending thunder into her ears. The princess groans as the noise fills her head; the shadows then seem to gather around her, caressing her skin, wrapping around her head until her mind is filled with... filled with... Names? Faces? Those lady Jezebel has surely trapped. "HELP US!" they all demand at once. "How?!" she grunts through her teeth, unable to move her jaw under the pressure building in her head. "Blood, blood, blood," they reply and without waiting for what Verity may think of this, the shadows push her into the sand, whipping around her with such force and speed that small cuts open across her cheeks and...

And then the shadows gather into the cuts––there must be thousands and yet somehow Verity has not died, for as the shadows seep into her body, the wounds close, and the princess becomes reinvigorated with a strength she has never had before. Voices, memories, a hundred lives lived at once fill the back of her eyelids and her head nearly splits in two under such force. Her mouth opens to scream, clasping her hands over her ears, and just when she think she can take it no longer the shadows all settle, buzzing in her bones, and offer her guidance. When the shadows are reduced to whispers and she opens her eyes again, she realizes she has been pulled beneath the sand and now stands in dark room with a checker pattern floor. A force, an instinct, the shadows themselves, perhaps, pull the princess towards the center of this stage until she is standing before an hourglass, no bigger than the palm of her hand, floating just above her head. The sand inside is orange, like the sand had been above ground. The shadows whisper, "Smash it, smash it, smash it!"

Though that doesn't feel quite right to Verity. Still, she reaches for the object and when her finger touches the hourglass? A bright green light flashes through the room, covering it until it's all that she can see. When the light clears, she's back in the present, back in the living room though now all the clock faces are melting?

 

[Syntra]

What, exactly, had she done? Which threads in the fabric of reality had the princess torn, and which ones had she mended? The answers to that Verity would never receive, most likely, but her deed must have been grand-- grand enough, at least, to reduce lady Jezebel to incoherent screaming. "You... you bitch!" she screamed, her voice so high-pitched that the glass in the windows all around the tower literally cracked. And, the clocks? The clocks cracked, too, showering both women with shards! (From a certain perspective, it could have been beautiful. Crystal-clear snowflakes were falling from the sky, and reflecting the light of the torches-- they glimmered, purple and green and yellow, covering the rainbow's entire spectrum. The not-so-pretty side of this, though? They were sharp, sharp like resentment that had been nursed for years, and where they fell, blood flowed. Both the princess and the monster were covered in tiny wounds in no time at all, but as for lady Jezebel? To the good lady, the shards might as well have been raindrops, for nothing suggested that they bothered her at all. ...had she discarded her humanity so thoroughly that her pain receptors were dead, too? Well, either that, or anger had dulled its edges for her.)

"You have no idea what you've done, you good-for-nothing gutter rat," Jezebel seethed. "I should have known that you weren't worthy enough! You're just a parasite, Verity. Nothing more than a leech sucking blood from something greater than you are. Just, how could I have been this stupid? It's all your people's fault, with their warped ideas about what it means to be a royal!" Ah, so it did go there-- to Verity's family, and their roots which could only be described as humble. The woman just couldn't help herself, huh? In her eyes, anyone who hadn't been born with a silver spoon in their mouth was less than, a mere worm to be trampled over. (Of course, the people who subscribed to such a belief system failed to recognize several key details. Even if they truly were worms, those were actually needed, weren't they? Worms were what made the soil breathe-- relentlessly, they toiled in the darkness, so that everyone else might enjoy the fruits of their labor. It was aristocrats like lady Jezebel who took and took and took, without offering a hint of reciprocation! No, it anyone here was a leech, it must have been them.) "It must be your tainted blood, I'm certain. Don't you worry your pretty little head about it, though! That, too, is something that I can fix. There is nothing that cannot be altered, rewritten, or reshaped, really, according to my whims," the woman smiled, and in that moment? Oh, everything about was so sharp that you could cut diamonds with it.

"It's not even as difficult as you might believe," Jezebel smirked, before reaching into the depths of her skirt. With a quiet ssss, the fabric was moved aside, and what was revealed... oh, gods. What was Verity looking at, even? A bunch of cables, yes, cables coiled in unnatural angles, but also barbed wire and metallic components that made one's brain hurt from just looking at them. Also, could it be blood that seemed to glisten at multiple places? Assuming it was paint seemed to be an assumption far, far too optimistic than the current situation warranted, anyway. "I have studied anatomy," the lady said, "and found this to be the most convenient shape, evolution-wise. This is what we're heading towards, you see? The prophecies written on the turtles' shelves spoke quite clearly, as far as I am concerned." Ah ha! So Verity's hunch had been right, although the wicked woman's motivations were wilder than what she could have imagined in her most frenzied dreams. "I merely sped things up for myself, as I refuse to be stuck in the past. That, princess, is the true sign of greatness! And you could have been a part of this, but in your folly, you refused. Well, well, well. A shame, isn't it? Although, now that I think of it..." the barbed wire rose into the air, as if it was a fully functional limb, "...there are certain advantages to your bull-headedness as well. At least I get to test out the more dangerous of my hypotheses, you see? Prepare to discover a new you, princess Verity. Hopefully, you will like her enough." And, with that? With that, the barbed wire flew towards her, ready to rip her into shreds!

...that wasn't the only thing that happened, though. At the very corner of her vision, Verity spotted something. That something was Iskra-shaped, and sure enough, it was her captain-- her unconscious body, if nothing else. Unlike most unconscious bodies, however? Hers didn't have the decency to stay on the ground! Oh no, no, no. Surrounded by a faint, blue-ish light, she seemed to be levitating, and turning around her own axis as well, and... uh. Was it just her, or could she hear suspicious sounds from her direction? Beep, beep, beep. Beep, beep, beep. It was quiet, yes, but also rhythmic, much like breathing or some kind of countdown, which--

"Pah! Pay attention, Verity," lady Jezebel smiled, before slashing her across the cheek. (The wound left behind was large and gaping, almost deep enough to reveal the bone. Immediately, there was a fountain of blood.) "Your opponent is right here. If you're good enough, you might be able to join captain Iskra very soon!"

 

[starboob]

♕ PRINCESS VERITY (EXILED) ♕​

There are several bated moments wherein which Verity is not certain where she has returned. Is this truly the present or merely a version of it? She understands that Time, like the branches of a tree, has many shoots and whether or not she has ended up back in the correct timeline is unnerving. The melting clocks seem to hint that she is either somewhere altered or she has altered something (another unnerving thought in and of itself). Her worry is short lived as lady Jezebel's screech cuts through the air like an axe, sharp enough to shatter the glass so that it rains down on them both. Verity hardly has the Time to cover herself and soon she finds herself once more littered in cuts (though these ones do not heal as the ones from the shadows had). Her skin stings and she sucks in her breath as blood leaks from the cuts––none are quite so deep to be alarming, but with so many that does raise the stakes. (There is glass stuck in her hair, too, and she can feel the small shards falling down her back and getting stuck underneath her clothes as a result.)

"Insult me all you like! My lineage brings me no shame and you will rue this moment where you insult my ancestors," she spits, raising her sword in defiance and closing her fist around the strange hourglass from before. 'For they made me who I am and for that, I am forever thankful.' Here and now, she realizes she won't give up. It's an easy choice to make and what has her Life taught her of strife? Only that it builds you into something better if you let it and so she will let this moment build her even if it breaks her. It's what she believes Iskra would do and has done a thousand times over.

Even though she does not doubt lady Jezebel's threats and her ability to mold her into a new form whether she likes it or not, she acknowledges the Fear inside of her and uses it as fuel. This is not a hopeless situation until it is and she will not let this woman have her way just because she thinks she can. She will be told no and Verity will shove the word down her throat and choke her if she has to. Though, she will not lie to herself and say she still remains as strong when the lady lifts her skirts and finally reveals what is underneath––somehow, it's worse than the flourish of her arachnid half and twice as terrifying as, say, a body of tentacles would have been. For whatever this form or shape is, she does not have the vocabulary to quite describe it. 'This woman is mad,' mad with her Fears that have driven her to such an extreme that Verity almost feels sorry for her. It must be hard to resist the natural processes of existence and admit that you very well can disappear once you die. (It doesn't go unnoticed that she harvested those turtles either––there is just too much new information for Verity to process it or react appropriately to the discovery.)

"You will never have me, Jezebel," she snarls, "No version of myself will ever be yours, that much I can promise." Though Verity has not a clue of how she will prevent this woman from reaching her, she knows she will fight with all the strength of her ancestors to keep this woman as far away from her essence as possible. As she faces this villain, her eyes scanning for weaknesses, she remembers what Seraphina had taught her when facing opponents of any size. ("People are so honest, Verity. Whether they know it or not. They always tell you their weaknesses and you just have to learn how to recognize the nuance. What they defend most fiercely tells you where the chink is in their armor... You, for example, are weak to people with sob stories.") So where are Jezebel's weaknesses? She seems to have none with all her cybernetic work, but that may very well be Verity's answer, too. A woman who does not believe her own body to be enough... 'Hmm,' she thinks, a plan materializing before her with a clear path to––

Well, to follow, but she's distracted by the object floating just at the corner of her vision. When she looks to assess the potential threat she has to doubletake when she recognizes Iskra. Her Iskra. Out of sheer instinct she pivots towards the captain, and is immediately stopped by one of those unsightly appendages slashing across her cheek (opposite to her scar); it's deep enough that she swears Jezebel has torn a hole in her face. She yelps out, her fist rising to cover the gash and her gaze returning to Jezebel. Her eyes spark with fire. 'Fine. I shall give you my worst.'

In that moment Verity does two things, first she tosses the hourglass she had been holding towards her pirate––either it touching the pirate will trigger something as it had when she first touched the object or it will shatter like the shadows have requested––two, to prevent lady Jezebel from launching towards the object she launches towards her. If she is going to demand Verity's undivided attention then she will demand it right back!

Going for the cables and barbed wire and whatever those other parts are, she believes will be fruitless. She knows not what they are made of and may only succeed in dulling her blade rather than slashing through them. Her best bet is to go for what she assumes are the remaining organic parts of of the woman which likely will be no easy feat with the cables enough to keep her at bay. So that's about when she pushes her spikes out of her skin––though she does not launch them just yet, because, again, she does not know which parts are still flesh and which are fortified with, perhaps, subdermal armor.

Interestingly, too, as this drags out the shadows that had absorbed into Verity earlier? They start to come to her defense as well, minimizing the damage and still offering a distraction of their own against this villain. They seem to make her stronger as well, enough that she can rip away from the cables. "Give it up, Jezebel, you cannot escape your fate! Your legacy ends today."

 

[Syntra]

The second Verity mentioned Jezebel’s legacy ending? Oh, her eyes darkened, so much that they resembled anthracite. “That’s where you are wrong, princess. Wrong, wrong, wrong! To an uneducated mind, a beginning looks like the finishing line, and a birth resembles decay. You have only yourself to blame, indeed, for not seeing the elephant in the room. Tragic, isn’t it?” she snarled, as the barbed wire cracked in the air like a whip. “That you have lost already and failed to even recognize that fact. The tragedy of it all is even more pronounced when you realize that you held the key to victory in your very hands! All you had to do, princess, was to accept the gift I meant to give you-- to receive it gracefully, and not try to reach for that beyond your understanding. Sad, truly!” …was she just rambling, or was there an actual meaning behind the rant? Too many women couldn’t handle it when their dreams crumbled before their very eyes, and yes, lady Jezebel clearly wasn’t taking this well. (She was bleeding, and quite profusely at that. Rivers of blood were spilling from her veins, from all of her parts that still could bleed, really, and the rest of her? Well, let’s just say that the random sparks of electricity didn’t exactly support the hypothesis that she was fine, either. Verity had done a number on her, indeed! …and yet, yet she went on, much like a moth that just couldn’t help getting close to a lamp. At this point, you see, loss would probably be worse than death to her-- it would suggest that she was mortal, fallible, human. All the things that she’d learned to resent, in other words.)

“Do you know what sleight of hand is, princess?” she asked, a mad glint in her eyes. Of course, it was only a question in name-- it wasn’t like the woman was going to pass up the opportunity to listen to her own voice some more, after all. “A simple trick. I make you watch something that isn’t important, and that’s what you try to fix. I win, you lose. For all your passion, you didn’t observe your pirate too carefully, now did you?” And maybe she hadn’t, in truth, but how was she supposed to do that? When dueling someone to death, you tended to focus on their blade, dammit! On their blade, their movements, and all those little details that allowed you, you know, to stay alive. Although, now that the woman was too busy talking… hmm, hmm. Looking now probably wouldn’t be too dangerous, right? And truly, Jezebel allowed her to do exactly that, without trying to take advantage of the moment. No surprise attack came, and Iskra… Iskra was still there, with the hourglass lying shattered at her feet. The blue-ish aura from before? It had turned darker at some point, almost the shade of ink, or perhaps the night sky. Eerie, really. The captain wasn’t floating in the air anymore, that much was true, but some invisible force seemed to be holding her upright, as if she was but a marionette to someone else’s whims! (Her lips were pale and bloodless, too. The entirety of her somehow looked smaller, frailer, less than-- a shadow of her former self, reduced to that state in less than an hour. What exactly had Jezebel done to her?! …then there was the smell, too. Sickly sweet, one that you’d usually associate with cotton candy and other treats too delicious to be healthy. Somehow, however, the context made it feel… off, maybe? Dangerously off, in a way that activated pretty much anyone’s fight or flight response.)

“Yes, princess, look,” Jezebel chuckled. “Not quite the woman you’ve grown so used to, right? If I were you, I’d accept your new reality, because it’s only going to get worse!” she added, in this annoying, sing song voice. “Iskra, dear, open your eyes.” And, surprisingly enough? The captain did it, the second the command reached her ears! (Her eyes looked off, too. The blue depths were still recognizable, of course, but somehow, they seemed to have gotten darker-- if you had to compare them to something, then muddy waters would serve well enough as a metaphor, probably.) “Jump,” the lady instructed her. Without a hint of emotion in her face, Iskra did so, and Jezebel? Jezebel laughed, the sound of it resembling the scraping of nails against a chalkboard. “Obedient enough, isn’t she? Wait till I claim her body, too. Yes, that’s right, Verity. Kill me if you have to, but you shall only help me transcend to the next phase of my existence! Do you think I’m so stupid as to not know about your captain’s… hmm, unique situation? Because, oh, I do. I have told you that knowledge is more potent than any other currency, haven’t I? And now, my dear princess, you get to see for yourself just how true it was. I hope you have said everything you wished to say to her, because you aren’t going to meet her again!”

‘A lie, lie, lie,’ the shadows whispered, their tone gentle and soothing. (You know that feeling of finding a comfortable hiding space as a child? A fortress, where none but yourself could enter? These entities, whatever they were, kind of made you feel like that-- as if you were alone, sheltered, safe. The very opposite of what was currently happening, to be sure, but perhaps it wasn’t that bad to lose yourself in the sensation.) ‘Cut, Verity. Everything in this world can be cut, including noncorporeal connections, so that is what you must do. Strike true, and you will free your friend. Strike true, and you will free everyone.’ How many victims had she claimed, in one way or another? Supposedly, Verity had been her first one, but for what, exactly? Clearly, there had been many others and they were crying now inside of her head, desperately begging for that sweet, sweet release--