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

[Syntra]

“It does,” the pirate agreed easily, for it was true. “Picking one’s battles seems to be one of the fundamental tenets of true wisdom. That being said,” she smiled, taking Verity’s hands into hers, “I think I have come to terms with not being wise. I mean, the label doesn’t suit me. A soldier I was, and a soldier I remain, on some level. Do you believe that I will be able to hold back? That we will be able to hold back? Verity, my dear, stop lying to yourself-- we both know how this will turn out, ultimately. And, honestly? That’s fine, I think. If not us, then who? Not everyone can do this, but we can, and in such a case… well, I happen to believe it’s a bit of our responsibility, even if nobody forces us to do so. Especially then, actually.” Complicated her relationship with duty may have been, yes, though Iskra didn’t necessarily dislike it-- the Holy Vessel’s machinations notwithstanding, it was true that certain things simply had to be done, and someone had to do them. Why, then, couldn’t that someone be her? For a cause truly noble, such as ending a couple’s suffering, Iskra could see herself risk it all. “I am not promising anything, Maiden,” she said, her eyes oh so serious. “Promises weigh on me, and if I were to give them out like candy, I fear that my shoulders would snap. Still, we will see what can be done. If it is within our capabilities, then we shall see what can be done about The Huntress.”

In an odd way, the fact that they didn’t need to look for her filled her with a sense of tranquility-- it didn’t happen often that the predator versus prey paradigm was shifted like that, so Iskra found herself fascinated more than anything else. (What would The Huntress be like? Was she a wolf more than a cheetah, preferring to wear the victim out, or would she attack in quick, devastating bursts? Did she have a consistent modus operandi, even? The maiden had insinuated that the Shade wouldn’t protect her this time, yes, though the pirate… well, it was hard for her to believe that on the emotional level. Rationally, she had accepted it, though in her heart of hearts? There was this feeling of disbelief lingering, more powerful than anything else. How, after all, could this Huntress hope to control the Shade? The fragment of the great godhead? …she’s a goddess, too, the pirate reminded herself. Tread carefully.)

No amount of treading carefully could help them avoid springing The Huntress’s trap, though, and before Iskra knew it? They were transported to this weird dimension, where everything shone with the light of stars. (Beautiful, the captain thought, despite herself. How can such beauty be used to perform such wicked deeds? How, oh how? Though, come to think of it, Iskra had known all along that a charming façade didn’t necessarily translate into a pure core-- that, often, sweet smells were used to mask the rot inside. …a valuable lesson, indeed, that she should never forget. Regardless of the place it had come from.)

“Taunt you?” Iskra raised her eyebrow, turning to face The Huntress without fear. “We taunted you not, Huntress. We wouldn’t have dreamt of it. Do you think that us simply existing, according to our own rules, is a personal affront to you? I do not see it in this way. I do not, and you shouldn’t, either.”

‘You dare to tell me what I should and should not do?’ The Huntress shrieked, sending more arrows in their direction. Still, Iskra somehow sensed that she hadn’t meant to hit them-- oh no, this was a warning, a slap on the wrist, a playful ‘wait till you see what I am capable of.’ ‘You understand not my pain, so I forgive you for your ignorance. In fact, I shall use this moment to teach you a thing or two about compassion. And, truly, is there a better way to do that than to put you in my shoes? Soon you will know what it is like-- having one you care about torn away from you, that is. Then, perhaps, you will know the true depth of your folly. Ah, I can hear your begging already, and it is so very sweet!’

Careless as Iskra was, she knew better than to attack a huntress in her chariot. That would be like asking for swift death, you see? Which wasn’t at all something she planned to do, regardless of her lack of true fear. “Verity,” she whispered, “we need to take care of that chariot. With her still riding, we stand no chance. Let us direct her towards the trees, and force her to fight us from melee distance.” Arrows were swishing around their ears, uncomfortably close, and ah, they had to run, run, run! One step in the wrong direction and they’d fall, turned into The Huntress’s personal pincushion. No. No, that will not happen. We haven’t gotten this far only to die here, without tasting the fruits of our efforts. I shall not allow it.

Unfortunately, however? Their plan must have been too obvious, for The Huntress saw through it easily. ‘Do you believe that the trees will hide you, princess and pirate? Foolish, foolish, foolish! Here, in the Forest of Essania, everything bends to my will.’ And, indeed, it did! It only took one motion of her wrist for the trees to became transparent, like glass, almost, before fading into background. ‘It is just you and me, princess and pirate. You, me, and my wrath as well!’ Before Iskra could do anything, The Huntress managed to cut the distance between them, and began to circle them. (The bow in her hand? It turned into a whip, only for it to wrap around Verity’s shoulders! ...sss, the princess could hear, somewhere near her head. What the…?! Oh, by the Shade, it wasn’t a whip-- it was a snake!)

‘I will give you an opportunity to defend yourself, princess. How shall you excuse your crimes against me?’

 

[starboob]

♕ PRINCESS VERITY (EXILED) ♕​

'Ah, okay.' Verity cannot lie to herself and say that the pirate is not right. Her own mind may have gone back and forth on whether to fight or flee, and Iskra's assurance of what they will do, because of who they are, encourages her bravery. 'What is courage without Fear? Foolishness, really,' she reminds herself, knowing this Fear is doing something to protect her and she must swallow it lest she live in Regret. In a way, she knows that this Huntress needs to be soothed no matter how wide her maw or how sharp her claws; she is aching and spreading that ache like Disease. (There's an adage she remembers her mothers telling her after particularly cruel days. They would say, "Hurt people hurt people, Verity. What they do is a reflection of that Pain. Hard as it is, we must have Empathy for them, too." At the Time, she had been a budding teenager and unable to accept that one should just be understanding in the face of cruelty. Even still, she does not believe that is always the answer to dealing with every foe, not everyone deserves it, but it seems particularly true in this instance. Especially since they are dealing with a goddess who is likely not an opponent they can outfight; they will have to wear her down in other ways.) She will not let the Huntress touch them. Not in any way that matters, because she knows it will take more than the goddesses themselves to tear them apart. Perhaps they will only leave this battlefield with targets on their backs, but they will leave. They will. She will wrap her fingers so tightly around that outcome that nothing will wrench it from her. More importantly, she that Iskra will too.

So when the Huntress makes her ghostly appearance, made of stars and night and ethereal Beauty, she does grab Iskra with the Fear that she may be ripped away from her and with the assurance that together they are a sword and shield. (She used to hate when Iskra referred to herself as such, but there is something poetic about it as well. She can admit this now. Especially when she knows what lengths she'll go to be Iskra's shield.)

Amazed, she cannot believe Iskra is bold enough to turn to face their enemy without even her sword raised. Her own hand rests on the hilt of the blade on her hip, and she stops herself from pulling it, standing taller instead, and trying to ignore the arrows hailing towards them. (They're the size of spears, she realizes, when one lands far too close for comfort––the Huntress clearly showing off that she could end either of them, whenever she wants. They're operating on her mercy. On her whims. On her Time.) "Huntress, our deepest condolences for your loss. I know Grief and I know she is not the mistress that you want so serve, you need not wage this war for it has done nothing so far to soothe you," Verity adds, perhaps thinking she might be able to reach the woman made of night skies.

"You foolish mortals!" the Huntress howls, sending arrows towards them faster than starlight, "How can you even think to comprehend what has been done to me. How can you even pretend to understand how to quell the storms in my veins. You speak from shallow ponds!"

The trees that they dash through seem like a promising place to hide and a logical way to draw out their opponent, if only their opponent were not also the goddess and commander of this terrain. Out in the open and so exposed, Verity's pulse hikes until she's sure her veins are trying to escape from her body to save themselves (and she does not blame them). When the Huntress rounds them, Verity sees, to her horror, bodies, dozens of them in various states of decay, being pulled by the goddess's chariot. She sucks in a breath, "Iskra, look––"

But before she can finish the thought, the whip cracks through the air, wrapping around her shoulders––it either transformed into a snake or it had been a snake all along. (She doesn't think it really matters in either case.) In any case, she is wrapped, uncomfortably tight and unable to effectively use either of her weapons, let alone draw them on the Huntress. The snake that binds her hisses in her face, mouth open wide to show off her fangs, and as startling as that is, Verity doesn't trip over in Fear. Not yet, at least.

"Listen, goddess, please," she all but begs. "I meant not to offend, but I will not apologize for crimes that I have not committed. I have not a clue what to even atone for, if I am to be honest. For finding my heart in a pirate? For trying to address the root of your Pain? Are these truly crimes? Because I do not see them as such. But I feel for you, goddess. I know what it is like to lose your loved ones. I have known it a hundred times over. When I dream, my nightmares haunt me with their faces and the faces of those I could not stop. I mean not to make a mockery of how much you have suffered, because you have clearly suffered much longer than I. I do not deny that Time has added layers of Pain to your wounds, but you cannot keep sustaining yourself like this, god––"

"Oh, do shut up!" the Huntress commands, rolling her eyes, "Save the speeches for the people, princess. I did not ask for a lecture. I asked for an excuse which you were foolish enough to ignore. You only have yourself to blame, then, when your precious pirate is ripped from your hands." Still, in spite of her words, she does not make a move towards said pirate. Almost like she is waiting to hear that sweet, sweet begging she must crave.

"Your respite will always be short if you continue," the princess continues, defiant. "We are here to help you. Let us help you, goddess!" The snake, the Huntress, unhappy with Verity's response, stretches out to bite the princess, and it's not as though the princess can avoid the attack. The fangs sink into her neck, over the faint scar left by the queen, and she screams out in Pain. She struggles as much as she can against the snake, trying to peel it away from her, and is only successful in causing the snake to wrap around her tighter until she is sure she will be crushed.

"Pathetic. I gave you a chance. Your arrogance shall be your downfall, princess." The Huntress then flicks her wrist and the snake's body grows in size, until it is the size of a basilisk and holds the princess, still, in the center of its coil. "Pirate, how do you wish to die? Slowly or quickly?" the goddess asks, weaving a new bow from the stars and lazily taking aim. "I shall let you say goodbye to your princess if you wish. As that is a kindness we should all get."

 

[Syntra]

Embarrassing, Iskra thought. Deeply and utterly, too. It wasn’t that she didn’t understand the goddess’s pain, of course-- each word, each shockwave of pain mirrored those of her own, buried somewhere in her mindscape. Still, to hear her shriek like that? To deal with the onslaught of insults directed at them for no reason at all, other than that they dared to exist? That didn’t strike her like the behavior of an entity older than time itself! (More than anything, The Huntress resembled an injured dog. She barked and whined, relentlessly, and instead of letting her wounds close, she picked at them, over and over and over! How had she been brought this low? Had grief clouded her mind, to the point she saw nothing else? Perhaps it’s not her fault, the pirate realized. Perhaps she knows not how to soothe that pain. And, really, why should she? Goddesses were eternal, most of the time, at least, and the concept of loss… well, that must have seemed utterly alien to them, all things considered. The thing was, experience was the best teacher. If this woman had never lost anything before she had lost the love of her life, then how could Iskra expect her to deal with this? She, and most other women, had gotten tons of practice-- a lost match, a lost scarf, a lost sword, millions of tiny losses, really, before the big ones had tested her resolve. You couldn’t just… lose everything in a matter of seconds and stand tall, the pirate guessed.)

Still, it would have been easier to empathize with her had she, you know, not been trying to kill them. “What is it that you speak of?” the pirate snarled, jumping aside. “Why compare the depth of anyone’s suffering? Do you think this a contest, Huntress? For it isn’t. Every living organism in this galaxy has known loss, whether you like the idea of that or not. Yours isn’t special just because you have been here for longer than we have.” Oh no, no, no, that wasn’t how it worked! Pain was what bound them together, Iskra supposed. It was universal, in a way almost no other experience was-- the one pattern that could be found in everyone’s tapestry, regardless of their status, their blessings or their curses. …perhaps the capacity for suffering was what defined humans as human, actually. Of course that a goddess, who very much wasn’t one, would struggle with it!

And yet, despite understanding all of that, Iskra found it difficult to truly take pity on her. Wasn’t this a case of her tasting her own medicine, hmm? A perfect example of comeuppance? Goddesses had shaped this universe, conjured up both its stars and its horrors, and in their infinite wisdom, they had decided that the best part of existence would be given to them, all while mortals were left fighting for scraps. So, now she was supposed to do what, exactly? To grovel, and spit on her own experiences in the process? To claim them to be less than, just because some infinitely more powerful being had never learned how to process bad things happening to her? …Iskra had lost herself, you see. Piece by piece, her own soul had been torn away from her, so no, she wasn’t at all interested in hearing how her own lived reality was inadequate. Not anymore, at the very least. The days when she’d served, and denied herself with no thought for her own well-being? Those were over, thank you very much.

“What do you want us to say?” the pirate asked, her stare freezing cold. “It is obvious to me that no answer shall please you, because you won’t have it. You aren’t here to recover-- oh no, you are here to wallow in your grief. And, really, I do not blame you for that. The weight of your burden is terrible, indeed, which I can see plainly. At the same time, though? It also belongs to you, so you need to learn how to carry it. That is how these things work. I understand that it takes some time for your shoulders to get used to how things are now, but actually spreading the suffering? Becoming a thorn in another’s heart? That is a great sin, Huntress. If you do not repent, you will not be forgiven.”

A good speech, at least as far as she was concerned, but, uh, not the most diplomatic one. So, when viewed from a certain angle? The Huntress’s reaction wasn’t even surprising, despite the fact that it froze the blood in her veins. Verity! No, no, no, no! The snake, could it have been… no, she didn’t even want to think about it. “What have you done?” Iskra asked the goddess, her voice shaking with badly restrained fury. “Answer me, and maybe I will give you the answers you seek, too.”

‘Maybe?’ The Huntress laughed. ‘Oh, how presumptuous you are being, captain Iskra. If I wanted to, I could peek into your head, and get the information I so desire. Very well, though. I actually find this whole situation amusing, so I shall tell you what is happening. Your princess? She is dying, pirate. Not physically, perhaps, but in a rather interesting way. Can’t you see?’

With her eyes full of fear, Iskra turned around, and… ah. The snake, previously white in color, seemed to be turning blue? Blue and green and red, and all the shades in between that. Ah, no. No, this couldn’t be good! Without waiting for another catastrophe to strike, the pirate rushed to Verity, her faithful sword in her hand. (Just a few more meters! She could cleave the demon in two, she was sure, and then, then Verity would be--)

‘I wouldn’t do that, pirate,’ The Huntress chuckled, before shooting another arrow in her direction. And, this time? This time, it hit, causing her to drop her sword. Fuck. Fuck! There was blood, oh, so much of it, and Iskra was blinded with pain, pain that was devouring her arm from her shoulder to her very fingertips. ‘Why don’t you stay back and watch? Since you failed to answer, I will answer for you-- slow death it is, and your princess shall get the same. That way, you can both savor the moment! Even so, I have a feeling yours will be slightly quicker than hers, pirate. After all, I do want the princess to truly enjoy the feeling of her memories being stolen away from her, and the poison I just gave you won’t take an eternity to activate itself. Well, princess? What is it like, finally tasting true loss? Do you understand my wrath now?’

 

[starboob]

♕ PRINCESS VERITY (EXILED) ♕​

The bite on her neck hadn't hurt. Yes, she had screamed, but most would scream having their skin pierced by fangs. Relatively speaking, it had not been the worst Pain she has ever felt. She can feel the drips of blood spilling slowly down her neck, but more importantly Verity can feel her head spinning. Around and around until it is the entire world, or rather dimension, spinning around her and dizzying her with confusion. So it's with some bitter reluctance that she's somewhat glad the snake is wrapped so firmly around her, because at least it holds her upright––though she does wish she could lie down. Lie down and close her eyes, for the colorful lights dancing behind her eyelids are becoming nauseating. She doesn't exactly feel like she is dying, but she is aware that something is happening to her. She just cannot quite place what, not yet at least.

In the background, she can hear the sound of two voices talking or bantering... perhaps arguing, though she isn't sure how important it is to distinguish this. She forces her eyes open, and the world around her refuses to stay still. She's pretty sure she is seeing doubles if not triples of everything. 'Ah, Iskra... and the Huntress?' she questions, concentrating hard on the celestial woman in the chariot and trying to placing her in her mind. 'Yes, the Huntress,' she confirms, remembering that they have somehow managed to put themselves at odds with a goddess. Though for some reason, the pirate looks wrought with worry and she cannot figure out why. Granted, Verity is within the coil of an ever changing snake, but she is still alive. Why focus on her when the enemy is in front of them? "Iskra, focus on the goddess––I'm fine," she musters, through heavy breaths as the snake insists on squeezing her. "Try... try playing her a song," she suggests, not realizing how little sense that makes in the context of this goddess. (Is it possible she thinks they are fighting Layani, the goddess of strife, once more?)

Yes, slowly the princess's memories are being plucked away from her and she doesn't realize it. She is only confused as they torn away from her, bit by bit, and she has some sense that what she had just suggested is, in fact, very wrong. "Wait, no... a song shall not work," she mumbles, figuring this may have something more to do with her apparent vertigo than anything else. (Memories of queen Keilani, the space turtles, even those terrifying hours with lady Jezebel fade into gray. Their edges start to get fuzzy and suddenly, they're a blur.) Still trying to figure out this puzzle, she watches as the pirate dashes towards her and is shocked when an arrow lands in Iskra's shoulder, causing her to drop her blade––something the princess has never seen her do before. "Captain," wait, no that's not right, "... Iskra, you're supposed to hold onto your weapon," she supplies rather unhelpfully. She doesn't even know why she says it at all, it's not like her to offer such useless commentary. Though, to be fair, her mind is losing its sharpness faster than she would care to admit and she's beginning to get the idea that something is very, very wrong with her head.

It's then that the Huntress reveals what is happening to her, reveals what is happening to the captain, and Verity? She doesn't quite know what to do with this information. Her mind goes back and forth, wrestling for those memories to remain her own but for each one lost, it becomes harder to recognize why she cares so much about the pirate. It's hard to feel Grief. There's just this outline of a person she knows that she cares about and cannot figure out how to care about her any longer, and that care is rapidly fading. Still, it's that knowledge that she should and that some version of her did care that forces her fight. She struggles, once more, against the snake and this Time, it loosens its grip, only wrapping around her arm, and allows her to stumble in an uneven line towards the pirate.

She grabs Iskra's sword from the ground, recognizing that it's important to the captain, and tries to put it in her hand again, not realizing the poison that is working its way through her the pirate. "Captain," because she's back to that weird place where names were too intimate after everything, "I cannot... I cannot fight her, I'm no swordswoman," which is also a lie given the leagues she has improved with all her sparring and recent experiences. "I don't know what's happening," her lip trembles for some indiscernible reasons, "and I'm scared." Her voice is barely above a whisper and had there been wind, her sentence would have been carried away with it before it could have ever reached Iskra's ears. "I know you hate me, but I know you wouldn't have me die either... you would have already killed me if that were the case." Finally, her eyes glance over the wound in Iskra's shoulder and she seems to realizes that even if the captain wants to fight, she cannot. Not with her sword arm so damaged it may as well be lobbed off.

"How sickeningly sweet," the Huntress smirks, "She doesn't even remember what she was going to tell you, captain. What you, perhaps, were going to tell her. Now, what you're feeling? Imagine it with the fervor of ten thousand suns and you may know a fraction of my loss. You may understand how nastily you have insulted me."

'For a goddess she is rather petulant... but what is she even talking about?' Her brow crinkles together as she tries and tries to force her memories back into place, tries to unblur those images, and tries to breathe color back into them. On a visceral level, something the snake's poison cannot reach, she can feel an attachment to the pirate even if her memories betray her and take her back to their worst moment. "Captain... Iskra? I don't understand," she shakes her head and tangles her fingers into her hair trying to put together a puzzle that keeps getting ruined each Time she solves a corner. She turns towards the Huntress, her features twisted in confusion and empty Grief, "Goddess, why are you doing this? This isn't right. This is not your way. I refuse to believe it is. How can our suffering bring you joy? Lasting joy? That is not what a huntress does. She is a provider not a taker."

"Even now you're as insufferable as ever, thinking you know my role better than––"

"Then what is it?" the princess asks, tilting her head to the side. She also gathers the pirate into her arms, because it feels right to have the dying woman in her arms. (Now awkward tears do begin to form, with her brain making some association that when Iskra is in her arms dying, she is to cry. She doesn't know why though. The memories are not being erased in any particular order that she can discern and she is forgetting to fight so hard for them anyway.)

The question seems to stun the goddess as if she hadn't expected it even though she opened herself up to it. Her expression is blank and even those stellar eyes seem dimmer than before. Her chest rises and falls in rapid succession, perhaps suggesting overwhelm or budding rage or something. The Huntress steps off her chariot and approaches the two women. Verity tightens her embrace around the pirate, who she cannot decide is captain or Iskra. (She's forgotten about dandy lion.) The Huntress reaches for the princess's throat and before she can close the gap, Verity blurts out, "What is your name? Your real name. Not your title. What did she call you and have you forgotten that woman?"

 

[Syntra]

It was… strange, in truth. The strangest thing she had ever experienced, maybe, even in the context of her rather strange life. Had she been a machine, Iskra most likely would have compared this to being disconnected from the network-- to losing everything at once, and being unable to care. (Of course, the comparison would have been inaccurate. It wasn’t as if she had truly been disconnected, as everyone with a working pair of eyes could see. Her chest kept rising and falling, rising and falling, rising and falling, and wasn’t that a proof of her still being alive? Of still clinging to that thread, fragile as it was? Machines, when deprived of their energy source, simply died all of a sudden, and that wasn’t what had happened to her! …except that machines, you know, never truly died. Faulty parts could be replaced, and if they only stopped moving because of some connectivity issue, then they would be reborn the second they were plugged back in. I’m not a machine, the pirate realized. They’d tried to make her into one, yes, complete with the repairability, but… well, let’s just say that it hadn’t exactly worked out. I’m Iskra. Was that a good thing, or a bad thing? A blessing, or a curse? The captain couldn’t tell, and oh, there were so few things that she could! It had been easier in the past, back when her world hadn’t been a strange blend of colors, but that had been such a long time ago-- honestly, she couldn’t even recall its former shape.)

…when had she ended up on the ground, actually? And why? Yes, yes, why, that was the proper question here! The Huntress, the pirate managed to think, through the heavy mist her mind had turned into. We must slay her. Why aren’t we slaying her? Someone had once told her that each question was a beginning of a journey-- the first step on the path to understanding, regardless of how perilous it would end up being. It had struck her as wise then, so why oh why did her questions not help? Why did each of them only produce a bunch of new ones? For example, it was easy enough to answer why she found herself on the ground, and that was because her legs no longer obeyed her. Why the sudden insubordination, however? And why had she used the pronoun ‘we’, come to think of it? ‘We’ meant ‘she and someone else,’ at least as far as she knew, and that ‘someone else’ was missing from the equation. (From the equation, yes, although not from her heart. Ah, who was it that had accompanied her here? Iskra would love to look around, look around and confirm it for herself, but her eyes failed her, along with her legs.) …and then, through the darkness, a voice cut through. The voice was sweet, sweeter than anything she had ever tasted, and yet so, so familiar! A single rose among thorns, so sharp and biting.

“Ve-Verity?” Iskra was able to say, despite everything. (The word came to her automatically, drawn out of her by some queer instinct rather than recognition. Why it surfaced in her mind, that the pirate didn’t know, but it felt right, in the same way drawing her breath did. And, all of a sudden? She was being held by someone, oh so gently. The woman who had wrapped in her arms spoke to her, too, in this stream of vowels and consonants, and oh, was it overwhelming! Like watching snowflakes fall from the sky, and trying to catch all of them with your tongue.) “What are you… I don’t… I don’t…” What was hatred, even? Something bad, Iskra was convinced, and even though her haze, she could see that that wasn’t what she felt for the woman. Wasn’t, wasn’t, wasn’t!

Slipping into unconsciousness would have been easy, honestly, except that easy things were rarely good for her, and so Iskra refused to let go. “What’s, ah, what’s happening? Why does it… feel like this?” ‘Poison,’ something in the back of her mind whispered, ‘poison, poison, poison,’ but, hey, that couldn’t be true! The Shade shielded her from such things, and… ‘Poor, foolish captain Iskra,’ the afflicted Maiden smirked, half of her face rotting. ‘I told you that the Shade couldn’t protect you from the Huntress’s ire, didn’t I? Her poison is the very antithesis to existence, my dear. Of course that you cannot withstand it.’

Meanwhile, next to her and yet so unbearably far away, two women were talking.

‘My… my real name?’ The Huntress blurted out, clearly shocked. It almost seemed as if Verity had slapped her, instead of asking an innocent question-- such deep the ache in her eyes was. ‘I have no name. No name that I’d share with you, anyway. Moreover, how dare you insinuate that I have forgotten her?!’ The skies above them were blue, blue and clear, or they had been, really, because out of nowhere, clouds gathered there. Clouds that were carrying a storm within! ‘I haven’t forgotten her. I would never. It was… it was her who betrayed me,’ the goddess gasped, in a way that suspiciously resembled a sob. Could it be…?

‘I told her not to go there. I told her not to pluck the forbidden fruit, but she had to have it. My love, she told me, we cannot live on like this, trapped in a dream. We must remove the seal. So, yes, remove it she did, and we were freed. What was it good for, though? What, what, what? She gave me my freedom, princess, but along with that, she robbed me of the only thing I have ever cared for. She died, for that was the price that she had to pay, and yet, yet she had the gall to claim she was doing it for me!’ The clouds hanging above them? Oh, those grew heavier by the second, and also more ominous. Judging by their color, they promised a full-fledged apocalypse. ‘Tell me, princess! What was her sacrifice good for? What was its worth, when I never asked for it?’

 

[starboob]

♕ PRINCESS VERITY (EXILED) ♕​

The pirate rests in her lap like the weight of an entire world and the princess doesn't understand why she feels so heavy in her arms. Yes, she is a person and people tend to weigh a great deal despite how effortlessly one can carry herself. Logically, it makes sense for this woman to weigh so much as her body rests slack and yet it feels like there is so much more than just a woman, just a pirate dying in her arms. Her tears, which are reflexive mostly, tell her that much. They stream down her cheeks, dribble down her chin, and start to wet the pirate's forehead; the pirate who she is fairly certain is called Iskra and she wants to call captain; the pirate who has a fearsome reputation and yet somehow she is not scared of her. Some ancient part of her is angry with this woman, but she cannot place why. 'She stole Inure...' she remembers, yet even that recollection does not help her place this confusing cocktail of emotions that swirl within her. This... oh, she does not who she is, really, but this person seems to know her and saying her name seems to bring back some form of recollection. In the deep recesses of her heart, she knows she likes how her name sounds coming from this stranger's mouth. The skipping of her heart tells her that much, so she holds onto that and all the other responses in her body that cannot be erased from her. (Ah, how strange it is to lose her memories when her people have been blessed with long, near perfect memory. A gift from the Divinities to help the descendants ascend to greater heights and become better than their foremothers; to help them learn from past mistakes and hold onto each moment. Now that gift is being taken from her and Verity can do nothing to stop this wretched poison. It is not as though her tears are expelling it.) "You..." she closes her eyes, brows knit tightly together in concentration, trying to dig through broken shards and put those pieces together, "You are Iskra."

'Iskra, Iskra, Iskra, Iskra, Iskra, Iskra, Iskra,' she repeats in her mind, doing her best to remember that name, that special name. The goddess breaks her concentration and she looks up again, remember, vaguely, that the goddess had meant to choke her but she had asked a question that somehow acted as a shield. (Absently, her fingers thread through this Iskra's hair, some part of her remembering or believing that this woman likes when she does that. Or maybe she is going based on an assumption that it is a soothing gesture and if this woman is passing, then the princess ought to make sure she passes without an ache.) "I don't believe that," Verity says, rather plainly and without her usual reverence for deities, "Keep your name to yourself if that is what you choose, but there is everything to a name. You cannot don Huntress and think it a sufficient mask to whoever you were before. Huntress may protect you, but she is not all that you are and you are... you are exiling that woman from before. She doesn't deserve that. You don't deserve that."

Though the Huntress continues, revealing what had happened to her love and somewhere Verity can remember what might have spurred the goddesses ire. She splits her attention between the woman standing and the woman in her arms. Faint recognition crosses her when she looks at Iskra, but there is so much lost already that it's still difficult to assign her a meaningful title. She only knows what her body tells her. She strokes Iskra's cheek with the back of her hand, her cheek that feels cold. "You used to be much warmer," she whispers, knowing that she does associate this Iskra with warmth. (Is it the coats she has given to the princess? How she has made the princess feel since they have grown together? The knowledge that most bodies are supposed to be warm? Argh, she does not know!) "Here, I will try to warm you," she continues, shrugging off the coat that belongs to Iskra anyway and wrapping it around the woman's body, then pulling her in closer to her core.

However, before the Huntress can be offended that perhaps Verity is ignoring her, the princess returns her gaze towards the woman who seems more subdued that before though she isn't sure if she trusts that. Goddesses can be so fickle, after all. "So admit that you are not angry with the..." she pauses, looking around, not particularly startled by the storm, but searching for something to help jog those runaway memories, "the Maidens. Or us?" because she isn't sure if they could have offended her given that Verity does not really think she knows Iskra (but she must have, right? That would make this all make sense, she supposes). "You are angry with her, because she left you. I would be too. I would be angry at everything that led her to taking that forbidden fruit. But have you ever tried to see this story from her eyes?" Verity challenges, knowing she cannot succumb to floundering or fleeing when there seems to be so much at stake. (The woman she knows is Iskra, for example.)

The Huntress seems stunned, once more, and the storm clouds that have gathered up above begin to light up in flashes, thunder soon following after. The winds howl around them. Lighting strikes the ground, deadly close to the couple who are strangers, but does not touch them. Verity can feel her hair rising in response to the static, but she does not turn to groveling. Somewhere she knows that backing down will not help either of them and she knows they both need to make it out of this. She clutches her shield tighter. (That's what this woman is to her, right? She promised that once, she is fairly certain.) "She wanted you to be free––she tried to give you a gift you never could have had had she not broken whatever curse had been placed on you both. In her eyes, she was giving the world. The best thing she could offer. She thought it worth more than herself. I am not... I am not saying that she was right, but I am saying you should peer through her eyes and understand what she thought she was giving. Perhaps ask yourself if she would have wanted you to spend your freedom shackled to the past?"

Rain starts to fall around them, hard, and within seconds Verity is soaked to the bone. She shivers and does not take her attention away from the goddess who is either hateful or grief-stricken or both overwhelming emotions at once. (Probably the latter.) Interestingly, Verity's words must have done more than just cause the goddess to change the weather, for her chariot disappears and the shackles that had tied all those bodies to it, attach the Huntress's ankles. She falls to her knees and the ground quakes. "What does this gift matter when I have been too dead for too long to ever grasp it? My Anastasia is gone and so with her, I am too."

 

[Syntra]

"I... I'm sorry," Iskra groaned, through that impossibly thick fog. (Why was it getting thicker? Why, why, why? She wanted to see her companion, dammit! She wanted to... wanted to do so many things, really, and yet the exact labels were wind, unwilling to be captured.) "I wish I could be warmer for you." Was Verity disappointed in her? For some reason, that very notion was unbearable-- it hurt like needles under her skin, like white hot flames licking at her fingers. 'Don't be sad,' she wished to say, 'I will find a way radiate warmth again,' but of course that her lips refused to obey her. Of course! Instead of words, only strange, raspy sounds came out-- something you'd associate with a hurt animal, in truth. (Was the pirate hurt? And, if so, why wasn't it painful? More than anything else, Iskra just felt... distant from her own body, really. Numb, in the same way you sometimes got numb after you played in the snow without gloves! What kind of injury was she suffering from, even, if it dulled her pain receptors? Nothing too terrible, surely.) "Just... just give me a few moments," the pirate said, laboriously. "I will be fine. I always am, in the end. That's... that's what I do."

That the princess decided to share her warmth with her, though? That alone caused her eyes to water, and overflow with what had to be pure emotion. (Ah, who knew that rain had been hiding within her all this time? It must have been a part of her core, since her birth, maybe, and now it yearned to be let out, out, out, with the force of thousand suns. ...perhaps, Iskra thought, I will pour my entire essence into this soil, and watch new life sprout from it. Something greater than I've ever been. Which, honestly, wouldn't that be a wonderful ending to her story? One that she had never dared to even dream of, let alone hope for? Realistically, yes, for sure. The pirate had no qualms admitting that, regardless of how much it stung. Still, during the past few months, Iskra had learned to yearn for more, you see? For Verity's hands in her hair, and her lips on her neck, and, ah, the sweet nothings she whispered into her ear-- no. No, I shouldn't. That is the path leading to heartbreak, and I know it. Hearts weren't supposed to break, were they? And yet, yet Iskra suddenly didn't mind it shattering to pieces, if only it could get its desire for a few moments in exchange! Madness. This is what madness has to be like, I am convinced of that.)

The conversation flowed, flowed like a river, and rivers waited for nobody-- least of all for confused pirates. (It was... hard to pay attention, really. There were so many words, each of them so full of meanings! How was a single woman to decipher them all, while still keeping up with what was being said currently? The brain may have been a supercomputer, yes, but hers was sluggish, as if her reality happened to be submerged in molasses. ...even so, Iskra did grasp something, alright. Something heavier than the weight of the entire galaxy, and ah, did it threaten to crush her!) "You're not dead," she blurted out, guided by some mysterious instinct. "You're not. I can... I can see your spark plainly."

'My spark?' The Huntress chuckled bitterly. 'What is it that you're talking about, pirate? What do you even know of such things?'

"More than you'd think. I... for the longest time, I thought I was dead, too. Ruined. Forever tarnished. Except that, you see," with all her strength, she lifted herself on her elbows, "forever is a long time. You never know... never know what will happen. It turned out I was sleeping, not dead, and another woke me up." Verity, yes-- her princess, who had brought her out of her slumber not with a kiss, but with words, words, words, so powerful they'd broken down the barriers she'd been building.

'Another?' The Huntress howled. 'Are you suggesting that I betray her memory? That will never happen, pirate, I assure you. My heart only belongs to one, and I shall not do anything to disgrace that emotion.'

"Not... not what I was suggesting. There may be... other things for you out there, though. Not love, but something that might bring you joy nonetheless. Don't you have those who love you? Who depend on you? Anastasia seemed to think so. She wanted to... wanted to give you that chance... She saw you as something more than just her love, Huntress. For that reason, she wished that the world could know you."

Once again, the goddess stared at them-- two mortals, princess and pirate, brought lower than ever before. Two worms, when compared to her brilliance. And yet, despite that? Her eyes filled with tears before she fell on her knees, not caring for the mud that stained her garb. 'Arendelle,' the woman sobbed. 'That is my name. She gifted it to me when I was nothing, hoping that having something of my own would help me find my way, and yet I threw it away. I never should have... never should have accepted the moniker. It's an insult.' With a flick of her wrist, the goddess summoned the snake once again, and when it appeared? It sank its fangs into Verity's flesh, allowing the color to flow back to her rightful owner. 'Here. I return to you that which is rightfully yours. Guard it with your very life, for there is nothing more precious in this galaxy. As for your friend, though...' Sadness marred her features again, deep and wide like a sea. 'I'm afraid that it might be too late for her. Non-existence has touched her already, and... ah, there are certain things that even a goddess cannot fix, I'm afraid. Sincerely, I am sorry. I should have wielded my power with greater restraint.'

 

[starboob]

♕ PRINCESS VERITY (EXILED) ♕​

"Shh, shh," the princess coos, gently stroking the woman's hair as she tries to strain herself talking, "There is no need for well wishes." She doesn't quite know why she says these thing or tries to comfort this woman who she barely even knows, but the words and actions are so automatic that she cannot even think to fight them. The princess merely hopes to bring this woman peace in her last hour, like a medic might for a soldier. Through her own watery eyes, she offers the woman a sad smile. A smile she wishes could be more reassuring and promise that the woman will wake up tomorrow. Though she knows the woman in her arms is slipping from her and there is nothing a princess can do stop it; least of all a princess who does not know the woman in her arms. "Your eyes... you have oceans leaking out of them, like the sea leaks out of mine," she comments, bringing the pad of her thumb over over the woman's cheekbone to wipe away those drops of ocean. "You are safe. Safe and sound. Leak if you like, but nothing can get you now." And isn't that a bitter truth? Because the woman is going to that untouchable, invincible place and paying the highest price for it, and Verity feels an immeasurable amount of sadness over it. It recalls her to all the others who have died in her arms. (It doesn't get any easier just because she has experienced it before.)

Then the woman, whose name is gone from her memories, sits up and speaks to the goddess. The goddess who, for some reason, had been angry with them and Verity cannot remember why. How can two strangers make a goddess angry? (Probably in a great deal many ways, actually.) But something in what the woman says reminds her of a person she used to know. (How strange it is to not be able to find the name and face to that person. Never has this happened to the princess before.) A woman who had been named Spark as a rally cry. Yes, she is certain that much is true and the woman sitting up speaks like that spark woman she once knew. Her words must carry great power for the goddess to fall into the mud and concede her defeat. (Even dying, this woman helps the goddess who had passed the sentence. Her character is so far beyond anyone Verity has ever known that she feels herself growing sadder that this galaxy shall be losing such a woman so soon. 'No, I cannot let that happen. The galaxy needs heroes like her and perhaps... perhaps she will let me join her, so that I may learn from her kindness.')

When the snake reappears with her chameleon like qualities, Verity starts to skitter away, remembering the bite from before. The snake is quicker, however, and lands her fangs in the princess's hand. Blood spurts from the wound and, just as before, she cries out at the sting and watches with both anguish and curiosity as the chameleon snake starts to bleed its color into her. Memories rapidly flash behind her eyelids and, oh, how she wishes that the snake could have kept them because she realizes, with no uncertain horror, who the woman in her arms is; who the dying woman is and she wishes she could forget if only to selfishly preserve her own ability to move on. The princess cannot add another tally mark to the people she has lost––that wall is full and to lose Iskra? Her darling Iskra? The last woman she knows her heart will ever make a home in? It is too much to bear. Even if she always knew that Iskra would leave her alone in this existence long before she would ever pass, she never thought it would happen so soon!

The goddess does nothing to soothe her either, with only the passing remark that it is too late. Too late, too late, too late and not even the blasted Shade can reach wherever Iskra is being pulled. "No, no, no––" she says, lips trembling along with the rest of her body as tears freely cascade down her face, making an absolute and ugly mess of the princess. She scrambles back towards her pirate and forces the woman into a sitting position, searching those lulled eyes. "Iskra," she says, "Iskra, Iskra––you have to stay with me. Don't leave me. I forbid it, you are not allowed to leave," she pleads, gripping her shoulders perhaps with too much force, but she cannot be so certain and she cannot find it in her to care. Perhaps the Pain will ground her and bring her back from the abyss. "You cannot leave. You never showed me that dust that will reveal the future. We never saw the ancient tortoises who are their own floating islands. We never finished our quest. You are not allowed to abandon me," she says through uncontrollable, unconsolable sobs, "I swear, Iskra, I shall follow you into the dark if that is where you are headed."

The princess pulls the pirate into a fierce hug, as if that might leak some of her essence into Iskra. (It doesn't.) She presses her lips to the shell of Iskra's ear and she whispers, "If you must leave me, leave knowing that you are my heart's home. You are all the promises on my lips. You are the spark behind my starlight. You are the joy behind my smiles. You are my end and my beginning. You are the reflection of all my best parts. I wish I had told you all this sooner, because, Iskra, there is no other woman I will ever have after you. I am yours ten thousand Times over. In this Life to the next, should we be so lucky. Please, please do not leave me here alone. I shall not know who I am without my pirate, my dandy lion." Oh, she wishes she had better words to send off her heart, her pulse. Something more reassuring and less selfish, but all she can do is beg and plead for Iskra to hold on even for an extra minute––Verity would fell nations for an extra minute. "You are my reason," she whispers, clutching the pirate so fiercely as if that can force her ghost to stay inside of her body.

"Verity..." The goddess, Arendelle starts, placing a gentle hand on the princess's shoulders. Her eyes are filled with a thousand years of Regret. "I can do nothing to right this, but I can take this pain away from you, if you wish it."

"Damn you! Damn you for taking away the last good woman in this galaxy!" the princess snaps, unable to restrain her anger and not feeling like she owes the goddess anything less. She whips around with hatred burning in her eyes as she jerks her shoulder away from Arendelle's touch. "You have done enough. I will not let you take this Pain from me. It is the last thing I will have of Iskra, to remind me of what she meant. Just, please, leave us in this hour. I want to be alone with her." Arendelle, with sorrowful eyes, obliges and flicks her wrist so that the forest returns, to give the couple their privacy, and disappears. When she is gone, Verity lays her head on Iskra's chest, wetting her shirt with her tears until it's soaked through. "You cannot go. I still do not know all your depths, Iskra," she pleads, not caring how fruitless this all is as her pirate, like everyone else she has ever cared for, is pulled from her.

Minutes or even days could have passed and Verity would have been none the wiser. She lays still as stone with her head on Iskra's chest. A wind bristles through the trees and a faint pinkish light is cast over the pirate's pale skin. Verity almost does not recognize it until an ethereal voice reaches her ears and says, "The trial is complete. You, seekers, have..." the sage furrows her rose quartz brows together and gathers her skirts made of nebulae as she approaches the seekers. She crouches down and shakes her head, "This is not the way."

"Well, it has happened and there is nothing to do. I am sorry we have failed."

"Oh, seeker," the sage smiles, her voice sounding familiar like both her mothers' voices overlaid one another (to Iskra, if she is still clinging to conscious, she may even hear the voice of a mother she does not remember), "You have not failed. This is not how your story ends." Before Verity can do or say anything, the sage gestures for her to move and then touches her rose quartz fingers to the pirate's head and heart. Softly, she commands, "Come back to us, Iskra, dear seeker. You are not finished here."

 

[Syntra]

"Really?" Iskra asked, lifting her head. "That's... ah, interesting. I never knew eyes could do that." Wouldn't they have to contain an ocean first, if they were to leak it? The pirate knew not much about human biology, but she was fairly sure that there wasn't that much water inside of her-- the liquid was very much present, yes, though that wasn't all an ocean was! There were, uh, special minerals, and fish, and corals, and... and all the other things that you couldn't find inside of her, no matter how hard you looked. Even so, the princess wouldn't lie to her, now would she? "Perhaps there's an ocean inside of my soul," the captain suggested. "I've always... always suspected that. Well, not always, but since I met you. I don't... I don't know. Am I making sense here? Probably not." Hell, the thread of logic that connected her words was so thin, so fragile, that Iskra herself almost didn't see it! Regardless of that, what she had to say was important, and so she pushed through. Had to push through, really. "I just... before I met you, I was confused. A woman wandering, indeed, even if I didn't know where I was walking. And..." ah, damn, why did the water in her eyes have to sting so much?! "...I thought I was dead, too. Don't ask me why. But then, then you came to me, my guiding star, and my path was illuminated. I still didn't know where I was walking, mind you, but... I think I realized that it doesn't matter? That, as long as you're going somewhere, you're saved. Even better if you have someone by your side." Where was she going with this, again? Ah, Iskra didn't know, didn't, didn't, didn't! (The darkness was calling out to her, too. 'Iskra,' it sang out, with all the voices of her sisters, 'Iskra, dear, you've been gone for so, so long! Come home. Return where you belong, and all shall be fine.' ...except that, you see, that grey, dreary place wasn't her home! Verity was, and...

"I am not going anywhere," the pirate objected, knowing full well that she was lying. (Wasn't it the princess herself who had taught her that not all lies had claws, after all? That some were used to caress and soothe, and pave a way toward a kinder future?) "I will always be with you, right here..." laboriously, she placed a hand on Verity's heart, "...and there." Her second went to the princess's forehead, of course-- to the place where precious memories were stored, to be archived forever. (A blessing, indeed. Where, if not in her head, could Iskra be who she wanted to be? Who else would have painted in such flattering colors? Very few enjoyed such a privilege, she'd wager.) "I don't want you to be sad. You can... you can still see all those wonders. Ask Myrne, or Ylna, or whoever, really, and they will take you there. They adore you, even if they won't say it. Verity, please, tell them--"

...tell them what, exactly? Goodbye? That she was sorry? The parting message she once may have had in mind faded, though, when Verity... ah. What was it that Verity said, even? (It was fire in her heart, and ice in her veins, and everything in between, somehow. The words rang in her head, over and over and over, and Iskra? In that moment, Iskra knew that that was all she'd ever yearned to hear, from the moment her brain could comprehend speech. The force of it took her breath away, squeezed the oxygen out of her lungs, and tore her universe apart, only to rebuild it from scratch! ...in colors that were utterly striking, too. The rainbow that they'd seen together, a million years ago? A paltry imitation of that which her inner eye had constructed, really.) "Verity," she gasped, "Verity, I..." Ah, damn, damn, damn! Not yet. Words couldn't slip from her now, along with her consciousness, for she wouldn't let them! Just a little more, Iskra begged. I don't ask for mercy, just a few more seconds. I want to tell her. I finally know, and before I go, I need to--

Of course, the world had never cared for her needs, so it saw no reason to change that pattern now. Why would it? The light went out, as swiftly as if someone had blown out a candle. As unexpectedly, too. Darkness embraced her, welcoming her back like a long lost daughter, and Iskra kicked and screamed, and dug her nails into the ghostly flesh! ...it mattered not, however. Death was used to taking whatever she wanted, so take she did, with great gusto. (Soon enough, the monstress would devour her. That, at least, the pirate knew-- the pitiful fragments of her consciousness only held together thanks to that realization, weirdly enough. ...perhaps she wanted to savor the last few seconds? To enjoy the memory of her princess, for as long as it remained intact? Verity. Verity, I think I may have loved you. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't be whole for you.)

Iskra expected her soul to shatter, to become one with stardust, but, contrary to everything she'd read about death? When she opened her eyes once again, she was looking at Verity! At Verity, who was red-eyed and devastated, but unmistakably real. "You've been crying," the pirate pointed out, rather uselessly. (By the Shade, why did her voice feel so hoarse? As if she hadn't used it for centuries.) "You don't have to. I... did I die? It doesn't feel like that." Mostly because that weird disconnect that always followed her deaths just... wasn't there, for some reason. Why, though? How? "Are we both dead?" her brain supplied the most logical theory. Despair should have come with that realization, but it didn't-- Verity's presence was too overwhelming for such emotions, really. Ah, so, so warm she was! And, like a woman who had been freezing for days, Iskra couldn't help but bask in that warmth. "What you said earlier," she began, before the more intellectual parts of her could convince her it was a bad idea. "I wasn't able to give you an answer. You didn't want one, I think, but I need to provide it, or I shall overflow. I feel the same. I know not what to do with it, but I do." Tightly, her fingers wrapped around the princess's wrist-- the heartbeat that dwelled there was like a compass, and that filled her with an odd sense of peace. "What do you want to do with it?"

 

[starboob]

♕ PRINCESS VERITY (EXILED) ♕​

When Iskra's dies, for what is the final Time, Verity can only hold onto that she died with her own name on her lips. She will still wonder what Iskra meant to say, but she will not agonize over it as she had with the first Death she witnessed. Even when the sage emerges, she does not anticipate knowing what her Iskra might have said. Verity knows not even what to expect when the crystal sage touches her hands to Iskra's head and heart. It's not that she does not trust the sage or that she does not believe in her sages' abilities to perform miracles, she just does not know if their abilities can undo the work of goddesses. Perhaps to prepare her heart in case of failure, she fills herself with more doubts than hope and expects nothing. She expects that Iskra's heart will still be still when she lays her head back down on it. She expects to continue grieving, knowing that she will never have her companion ever again and that there are no others like the pirate in this galaxy or the next. (Of course, she will try to pull herself back together. She will try to find joy in other things. She will try and try and try to move past her sadness, because the pirate would not want her to be sad. She would not want her to become like Arendelle. So she will continue. She will live. She will choose Life and make that her holy promise to her heart, her pulse.)

Though, as it would seem the rose quartz sage is able to reach the pirate and when those ocean eyes open again? Verity's well with more tears as she embraces the woman who is her home, squeezing her so fiercely and with all the Fear that Iskra may leave her once again. Her body shakes and she doesn't even try to choke her sobs. She cries openly and freely, surprised that she still has tears left to cry. Her heart swells inside of her chest and she doesn't even have a name for how she feels, because relief does not even capture the weight that has been lifted from her entire being. Finally, she looks at Iskra, laughs for no reason, and then embraces her again. "You did––you did die. Or ceased to exist, I am not quite sure what Arendelle did but you were gone and I never want to know that feeling again. I felt dead, but we are not both dead. No, my sweet, you are here with me back in the Forest of Essania." She strokes Iskra's hair, then rests her hand at the nape of Iskra's neck and looks into her eyes again, checking to make sure they are still full of Life and this is not some trauma-induced illusion that her mind has cruelly conjured. (She is even tempted to pinch herself to make sure she has not fallen asleep on Iskra's dead chest.) "Iskra, I––"

She stops in the middle of thought, one meant to assure Iskra she meant everything that she said; one meant to also ask whether or not Iskra had been there when she had confessed those words she had been too scared to speak earlier. Iskra settles those worries with her own confession and her heart hikes up to her throat; she closes her mouth lest it accidentally climb out from her mouth. It takes every ounce of her concentration to focus on what her pirate is saying. Then, her mouth bursts into a smile, another laugh tumbles from her lips, and her heart explodes with an array of fireworks. Never had she ever known that one person, one admission, could ever make her feel this way and how she realizes how starved she has been for someone to care for her heart as deeply as she cares for theirs; for both parties to want that exchange. (Respectfully, the pink sage has walked a few paces away and turned away to give the rejoined couple some privacy. She seems rather interested in the clear skies above.) "I shall tell you what we may do with this," Verity promises, relishing in the security she feels with Iskra's hands around her wrists, knowing there is no way her mind can be faking this. She cups the pirate's face in her hands and says, "Iskra, if you want me I am yours. I want you. I want to be by your side forevermore. I..." she chews on her lip, but realizes there is nothing to worry over now––she has just witnessed Iskra die another Time only to have her come back and have one of the first things she says be an admission of her feelings. "I will never have eyes for another, that much I know. Would you like to be with me as my dearest partner? Knowing that my heart shall be faithfully yours? That from here forward, we are two hearts that beat as one?"

Wanting to grant her Iskra every assurance she can, she adds, "Very little will change, I suppose, because I have been yours for quite some Time now. I just, ah, like the idea of knowing that we have this special promise between us. A promise I know neither of us will break."

 

[Syntra]

Ah, how strange this was! Strange and delightful, too-- much like when, uninvited, a butterfly landed on your hand, and spread its colorful wings. (Was she dreaming still? Could she still be dying, perhaps? Merciless as the Shade was, Iskra had served it well, so maybe it had found some compassion in its blackened heart, after all. Wouldn't it have been oh so easy, hmm? To play a soothing movie in her head as her pulse quieted, from the regular thud, thud, thud to nothing at all. It could have been her funeral song, easily. And, really, wasn't that the explanation that also made the most sense? The answer to all the questions that Iskra dared not ask? Because, you see, Verity was still Verity, and Iskra was still Iskra. That was kinda the point, yes, the pirate realized-- her heart only burned for the princess, so she could only assume that her counterpart felt the same for her. So far so good. Still, when you examined the arrangement from the up-close, wasn't it mysterious? Baffling, even? From Verity's memories, Iskra knew that with one motion of her elegant wrist, thousands would fall at her feet, eager to please her. Ah, so many would love to have a princess, indeed! Why oh why, then, had she chosen her? Her, a pitiful sinner, out of all the candidates?)

...maybe it wasn't about choosing her at all, though. Maybe, maybe their souls had been shaped to fit into another, in the same way two puzzle pieces could, and together, they formed a new image-- something better than what they would have been individually, when they'd still been fending for themselves. Didn't light need darkness in order to stand out, after all? Wasn't contrast beautiful, much like stars against the night sky? They each had something the other lacked, Iskra felt, and... and perhaps that had guided them to seek out one another, now that she thought of it. (With unshakable certainty, she could tell it had been the princess's mind that had captured her attention first, not her other, ah, assets. The pirate had discovered their appeal later, don't get her wrong, but at the beginning? Her thoughts had spurred her to action, and lit a flame that had long been... well, not dead, but dormant, most definitely. Waiting for someone like Verity to come. How, then, could what they had be wrong? It still struck Iskra as strange, much like new shoes that your feet hadn't gotten used to yet, though no, that didn't bother her. Not at all. Just as there could be a catharsis in endings, you see, there were also joyous beginnings! ...that, at least, was her takeaway from this. The Shade would still claim her one day, turning all of her efforts into dust, but till that happened? Oh, she'd live. They would live.)

"I shall promise that gladly," Iskra said, grasping her hand with quiet reverence. "My heart was yours before I even knew it. I... ah, some part of me thinks I have been waiting for you all this time, Verity. That I came into this world solely to experience this." A dramatic way to put it, perhaps, but why cheapen what they had via downplaying it? To shield herself from the embarrassment that Iskra didn't actually feel? Wrapping herself in indifference would have been a coward's choice, born out of a need to retreat into her old protective shell, and a coward she wasn't, wasn't, wasn't! No, there was no need to adopt these habits now, the captain thought. Not in this moment, when everything had finally been illuminated.

"So, I do promise, Verity. I will repeat those words as many times as you wish to hear them. But," she looked up to her princess, and forced herself to sit upright, "I also feel the need to be frank with you. You've given me the greatest gift of all, and so I have a desire to... reciprocate, I suppose. To be completely honest with you, if nothing else. And, frankly? I know not what to do with any of this," she admitted, before allowing her hands to fall on the princess's shoulders. (They were staring each other in the eye now, and, ah, how easy it would have been to drown in those depths! How had Iskra ever deceived herself into thinking that it wasn't the case, hmm? That her heart didn't sing for her, her and her only? ...powerful that delusion had been, indeed, but the force that had stripped her of her blindfold had been even greater. It must have been, by its very definition!)

"Never in my life have I felt this for another woman, Verity, and I... I suppose that I don't know what will be expected of me," the pirate said. "I haven't really... paid much attention to the couples in my proximity. To me, it just felt pointless? Because I was so, so very certain that this was the one thing I'd never have, and that paying attention would only have hurt me more. It was easier to exist in a different dimension entirely, where none of this existed. Wise it wasn't, I see that now, but it helped me breathe in times when I felt like choking. So, my princess," she caressed her cheek, her touch light like a leaf carried by the wind, "I shall ask you for two things-- two favors, really. Will you teach me how to..." love you, she wanted to say, but the word was too heavy for her tongue, "...how to be good for you? I want to honor you, as much as I can, but without your guidance, I don't think I can do it properly. I was a soldier for too long, I'm afraid. And the other favor... well, I wish for you to be patient. To let me take my time. I hate the idea of rushing this, you see? Fruit needs to ripen before it's ready to be harvested, and... ah, I care too much for us to let us feast on sour berries."

 

[starboob]

♕ PRINCESS VERITY (EXILED) ♕​

Of course Verity had known that Iskra wanted this as well––she had all but confirmed it moments ago––and yet when she makes the promise too, the princess's cheeks adopt a rosy hue and a wide grin tears across her cheeks, stretching up into her eyes as if this is the happiest day of her Life. Truly, it is up there as far as happy days go. It especially delights her to know that Iskra believes her Life's moments have led to them meeting. The princess had never considered that for herself, but it makes sense to her as well. Where Iskra had not allowed her heart to hope, Verity had filled hers searching through heaps of nothing for something that would never be there for her.

Easily, she leans into Iskra's tender caress and nods along to her uncertainties. They may not truly have an eternity, but they shall make an eternity of what they have. She does not want to ruin anything by rushing. (Even while her mind wonders what it would be like to have Iskra's hand slide a little lower. That will have to wait until her pirate is ready to venture where she has never been before. The waiting might make it interesting, Verity supposes, even if it will slowly drive her up a wall with anticipation. That may very well be part of their fun together.)

"Likewise, I worry that what I know of relationships has all been vapid and that I may not truly know what I have been yearning for all these years," she admits, covering Iskra's hand with her own and sliding her palm towards her lips as if she is whispering to the pirate's hands more than her. "It might be nice to determine how we should like to be together, free of any scripts that came before us. To start... I, ah," her cheeks darken once more, "I think I would like if that vase beside my bed is always filled with flowers, so that I may always have something to know you are thinking of me. It would be nice to hold your hand as well," she admits, feeling girlish and silly for naming things so benign and truthfully? She does not think there really is anything more that Iskra needs to do to be a good woman for her. Just by being Iskra she is so much more than Verity could have ever asked or hoped for, really. To make a list just feels like an injustice to everything her pirate is to her. So she voices that, "I do think you are doing quite well already. For a woman to be good for me, I need only to know that she cherishes me and I know with every fiber of my being that I am dear to you. Continue taking me on adventures, continue teaching me new things, continue making me smile, and I think you will be the very best of them. I mean, you already are." And to Iskra's final request, she nods, helping the other woman to her feet, "Of course, we may take as long as you need. I have waited for a woman like you my entire Life and knowing we are each other's shall sate my heart. I cannot tell you how much it means to know that we both feel the same for each other... this has never happened to me before," she admits, shyly, though not necessarily embarrassed.

"Ahem," the sage, who Verity had honestly forgotten about, coughs before the two can carry on and on about the depths of their hearts. "Now that you have completed this trial, dear seekers, the next shall open up for you soon. Perhaps sooner than you might expect or even later than you would think. It is all relative," she shrugs then approaches the two women, gliding across the grass as if carried by a breeze that isn't there. "From here on, know that your hearts," she hovers each hand over their chests, her hands glows, then the rhythm of their heartbeats begin to change until they are in-sync with one another. "Truly shall beat as one. Seekers, from here on you shall feel yourselves become more attuned to another. The bond you forge shall gradually draw the wayfinder from hiding. Be well, younglings."

.............
​

With no direction on how to find the next trial and Inure not being all that forthcoming with this information, the days blur into a haze of enjoying each other's company and attending to the needs of their pirate Life. Once they had returned to Inure, Verity had asked Iskra to spend the night with her as she still had Fears that her pirate would be taken away from her if they were to separate. (Of course, the princess also had missed that first night they ever slept beside each other and found her Fear to be a perfect excuse.) After that, however, she had not pushed the topic as she does want to respect the pirate's wish to take their relationship slowly. Something she is realizing is becoming quite agonizing. For one, the crew have become more relentless than ever in making sure Iskra and Verity are placed in rather compromising positions. (Just the other night, when inspecting a small storage closet for a pest, the door had mysteriously locked and the sound of snickering could be heard from outside. Not to mention the obscene gestures that have been tossed their way––ones that Verity has gone to great lengths to prevent Iskra from seeing lest she ask any questions. She can handle all the innuendos, because at least those fly right over her pirate's head. Though overall, she must admit that she does not mind their antics. If anything, she feels more like one of them and more welcome into the odd family occupying Inure.) Then there is the fact that Verity often catches herself staring at Iskra's lips and wondering what it would be like to be the spoon in her mouth. Once, she even lost herself staring at Iskra while she bit down on something she needed to hold for a moment while her hands were occupied. While she is almost positive her pirate is not doing any of these things on purpose, she is slowly losing her wits. Patience may be a virtue, but Verity is not sure she has ever been that virtuous.

The princess has not exactly waged a silent warfare on her pirate in response, but it may not be entirely coincidental that she sewed Iskra a stuffed dolphin and hid a ball of wool dowsed in her perfume within the stuffing. Her excuse had been something like, 'Since you may have never known this comfort,' but she most definitely wanted Iskra to be thinking of her at night. Then there has been her increasingly revealing wardrobe though she has been careful to make sure it's not too obvious. (Of course, it's not like the crew has not picked up on what she is trying to do.)

Anyway, on a day where Verity has chosen to wear her (Iskra's) shirt with a few too many buttons undone, they find themselves on some warm planet walking through a bustling underground market. Apparently, Myrne or Saavika or someone ran out of something and now they're searching for the reputable supplier of said item. (Verity would have remembered what said item that they're looking for is had she not been busy undressing the captain with her eyes. The pirate is becoming such a distraction. More so than before.) "Iskra do you remember when we saved that local pantheon in order to recover my sword? I don't believe I have ever thanked you properly for reuniting me with Gwenwyn," she comments, narrowly avoiding bumping elbows with someone who very much looks like they are waiting for any excuse to start a fight. (No, the princess isn't worried about the crowd around them. For one, she has her swords and two, she she has her Iskra.) "Tell me, what is something that you want and I shall grab it for you. Would you like a star? I shall pluck that from the night sky and make you a pretty necklace," she grins, resting her head on the pirate's shoulder.

"Why you darlings look like you might want your futures told," an old crone chirps, approaching the pair from the depths of some alley, and smiling at them in away that screams suspicion. Before either know it, the woman has an iron grip on their collars and is pulling them towards a shady psychic's tent. "Come, come, have madame Zabrina read your fortune!"

 

[Syntra]

Once, in a past so distant that it felt like an eternity ago, Iskra had thought that her crew was full of mature, understanding women. You know, the type of women who would catch you before you fell? Instead of pushing you over the edge and giggling to themselves, that was. To them, honor was more than just a buzzword-- it was a way of living, and the very reason behind their existence as well! No, never would they have done anything to besmirch their reputation, or disgrace her as a captain. Iskra had believed it, believed it with the same kind of certainty that allowed her to trust that, yes, the sun would rise anew each morning, but, the catch? She had believed it, once. The official translation: 'not anymore!' Just, ugh. Who would have guessed that all it would take for them to devolve into obscenities would be her and Verity acknowledging their bond?! They thought that she hadn't seen them, most likely, but it had been hard to miss it-- the meaningful glances directed at the princess, and the gestures as well. Oh, the gestures! (...back when her mind had still been innocent, and pure as freshly fallen snow, she would not have understood, Iskra had to admit. Still, the pirate was responsible for another woman's happiness now, you know? So, it only stood to reason that she thought it necessary to, ah, educate herself on certain aspects of a relationship! With her ears burning bright, Iskra had studied the pages of forbidden books, and... ummm, let's just say that she had learned many new things. The illustrations had been especially inspiring, come to think of it. What would it be like, to hold her princess and watch her writhe in pleasure? To touch her where no other was allowed to venture? It wasn't helpful to dwell in fantasies, she knew, but ah, did the pirate do exactly that! Every night, along with most of her days, too. How, just how, had Iskra ever managed to not lose herself in hypotheticals? So alluring they were, and delightfully free of dangers-- aside from the thorns that cut into her skin, deeper and deeper, every time she whispered her princess's name into the night. Verity, Verity, Verity! Ah, why was it a blessing and curse all at once? And, more importantly, why did Iskra not hate it at all?)

Because I belong to her, duh. Things are exactly as they are supposed to be! Why should the sea hate being drawn to her moon, hmm? Yes, that answer rang true, and Iskra was satisfied with it. (Life before Verity? Now, when she lay in her bed a clutched the queer toy she had given to her, it had felt like a dream-- shards of a nightmare, composed of loneliness so overwhelming that the pirate's eyes almost filled with tears. Just, what would have become of her had they not met? Would she still have been her past's slave, wandering in the darkness? Would the Shade have claimed her by now, hungry for the flesh as it was? Perhaps, though it's not as if these what ifs matter. Our fates intersected, as they were meant to, and so here we are. Was it important, after all, to ask yourself what would have happened had the sun not caressed the earth, and had the flowers not sprouted? No, surely not! The blossoms were there, and one would be wise to bask in their beauty before autumn took them away.)

Speaking of basking in beauty, though? Surely, this walk they were on counted-- Verity looked positively radiant, and Iskra couldn't help but steal glances at... ah, at the spot where the buttons should have been guarding her bosom. (Improper as it was, Iskra couldn't help but admire the sight. Just, who would have guessed that a wardrobe malfunction could be this divine? To each and every goddess responsible for this miracle, the pirate offered a thousand of thanks!) "Verity, my dear," she grabbed her hand, "you are the only star I shall ever need. Why would you think a deed that was a gift would need to be repaid? I did what I did because I wanted to, not because I expected a reward. That you regard me fondly is already more than I could ever ask for." Noticing a wayside rose, with its petals shimmering like the surface of the sea, Iskra fell on her knees and plucked it-- she stuck it in Verity's hair, then, smiling like a fool as she did so. "I'm aware that your hair isn't a vase, but hopefully, you'll forgive me? I just thought that such a beauty was wasted on these streets, and that, with you, it would feel more at home."

Of course, the moment was far too precious, far too beautiful, and as such? As such, it had to be torn away from them. "Thank you," the pirate shrugged, "but no. I have no desire to know what fate has in store for me, woman. Release us!" Women like that had never learned to respect others' boundaries, however, and so, before Iskra realized what was happening, the two found themselves inside of the tent. Goodness gracious, the captain thought, how can one even breathe in this den of depravity? The atmosphere was heavy with perfume, so overwhelming that she could see the lilac, and... "Come on now, princess and pirate," madame Zabrina smirked. "Are you sure that you don't wish to know? Knowledge is the best weapon, after all-- only when armed with that, you will be able to survive. The princess especially should treasure what I'm offering here! The truth is," she leaned forward, "that you are cursed, Verity. Doomed to watch those that you love die, over and over and over. The stench of death clings to you, oh yes, and stains everything it touches! Your pirate, for example? She has six months left. Nothing more, and nothing less! Wouldn't you love to find out how to save her, hmm? I can tell you that secret... if you give me something precious enough in return, that is. Well? How much would you value that information?"

 

[starboob]

♕ PRINCESS VERITY (EXILED) ♕​

Verity’s cheeks have only ever burned so much under the sun of her homelands. Never has a person brought such passion into her life that her cheeks are almost always red with affection. It is nearly permanent like tattoo blush. Not to say that she minds, because each Time it happens she only thinks of how it is her pirate drawing out these reactions and causing her heart to flutter. She would have it no other way, to be sure. “Ah, my dandy lion, I truly know not what I have done to deserve one such as yourself in my Life.”

She might have recited a poem then, she might have sung her pirate praise, she might have spun her pirate around and around had madame Zabrina not demanded their attention in such a rude way.

As they brought into the tent that is covered in tapestries embroidered with rather sensual scenes and thick with the smoke of incense, Verity coughs on the air and shoots Iskra a glance––one that asks, ‘When shall we make our escape, deartest?’ As she does not exactly want to know what this psychic may have to offer either of them. The future is too uncertain to ever know so it is pointless to try to peer into it. Almost everyone knows attempting to do so nearly always ends in disaster. “I beg your pardon, madame Zabrina, I thank you for thinking of us but really––”

Wait a minute. Somehow this woman already knows them? She at least guessed their titles which is not so surprising where either of them are concerned given the rumors of Iskra’s terror and the ones of her exile; knowing her name then is not such a stretch, so the princess really should not be so invested in these coincidences and yet? And yet what madame Zabrina offers next is enough to anchor the princess into place, for better or for worse. (Her heart hikes considerably, falling out of line with the pirate’s pulse, and creating an off-beat staccato.) Thoughtlessly, she sits down on one of the perfumed cushions, leaning in closer to the psychic and her bait. The psychic smiles, her wrinkles seeming to have to be hoisted up her face. “Ah, so you are interested… Well, princess, as I said I cannot offer my services for free.”

“I am as interested as I am skeptical,” she says, trying to hold her bluff though it’s rather obvious it has crossed her mind that she is cursed. (Ah, where is the Verity that could lie so easily? It would be incredibly useful if she could show up soon.) “I mean, if this is so certain how can this even help me? Besides, we both are aware of my pirate’s irreversible condition––”

“What if I told you it is not her condition that’ll pull ‘er from you? Perhaps… Perhaps if you know just how it happens you can stop it. As I said, knowledge is power and I am offering you the power to prevent losing the captain as you know her,” madame Zabrina says, choosing her words very carefully; her eyes glisten with fool’s gold and the princess is too easily fooled.(There is too much in her words for the princess to not be curious and, well, even if it is foolish to try and know things before they happen… can Verity really be blamed? Her Divinities will surely understand as they created the descendants all with insatiable curiosity.)

“Unfortunately,” she starts, spinning an excuse before giving into temptation completely, “I have no way to pay for your services. You see, all that was precious to me was burned. The few things I have now that I cherish I am not willing to part with.”

“A lock of your hair shall do.”

“Er––”

Which must translate as a, ‘yes’ to the witch because quicker than Verity would have thought possible, madame Zabrina has pulled out sheers from thin air and reached over to clip some of the princess’s hair! “Ah, this will be great for my anti-aging elixirs––oh, no need for that look. It is not for me, I am quite comfortable with my age. But those noble ladies have no clue how to accept age with grace,” she laughs or cackles and then wipes an invisible tear from her eye. “Anyway, look into the eye and the solution to your problem will reveal itself to you, princess!” She smiles, then plucks one of her own eyeballs from her head. The eye floats in the air and locks onto Verity, so alluring it is that the princess cannot look away.

“I… I don’t see anything, mada––” and, oop, the princess is gone! Sucked right into the pupil! Surely that must be a mistake?

“Oh, pirate, worry not.. She will be back––ah! Here she is,” the woman smiles as Verity shoots out of the eye! Except… Hadn’t she had a flower in her hair before? Were she not also mostly in an outfit made of Iskra’s clothes? And what happened to the scar that lady Jezebel gave her? Where are Gwenwynn and Telos? Now there is no flower in her hair, no second scar on her face, she is in full armor, and the sword on her hip is no sword that Iskra has ever seen.

“What the––? Where am I?” this Verity asks, and when her eyes land on Iskra she immediately draws her sword, “Must I deliver defeat to you once more? Inure is mine, you filthy pirate.”

“See,” madame Zabrina explains to the pirate, delighted more than alarmed, “The best way to save you in both timelines was to switch around the Veritys. Easy peasy lemon squeezy. Now you are saved, pirate! Care for some tea?”

 

[Syntra]

A prophecy, Iskra had learned, was like a sword-- a sword that was pointed at you, no matter how helpful it might have looked in the beginning. The human mind sort of made that inevitable, you see? Because, upon glimpsing the future, one became preoccupied with it, and pondered over how to cheat fate! (That, of course, was impossible. Foolish, much like a dog chasing its own tail. So very often, your own actions caused the very thing that you wanted to avoid, and so the captain could only deduce that prophecies kind of… depended on being told, really. On being heard. An action triggered a reaction, after all, so why should this be any different? A fortune teller might as well be a puppeteer, nudging their customers towards the desired outcome, and… and Iskra didn’t like this. Not one bit.) “Verity, my dear, let us ignore this vile message. That which has to happen will happen, regardless of how much we may dislike it! Why not enjoy ourselves before fate strikes, then? You knew from the very beginning that we shall not grow old together-- that we only have this moment, and perhaps the next one as well. What causes it in the end doesn’t matter that much, honestly.” Even if madame Zabrina was correct, then so what? Averting the catastrophe now would only push it backwards, for this would always, always wait for her! …your destiny stuck to you, much like the blood on your hands. Some things couldn’t be avoided, and trying only proved just how immature you truly were. Why, pray tell, would you want to escape the consequences that you’d cooked up for yourself? …out of love, as it turned out, because Verity jumped after the chance. Sigh. Just, why did nobody ever listen to her? Shouldn’t her title of a captain give her greater authority than that, hmm?!

Needless to say, however, that concerns regarding her lack of authority quickly faded into background-- mostly because, ah, more pressing issues floated to surface. By the Shade, what is this? “Verity?” Iskra asked, uncomprehending. “Verity, stop this. I know that you have been trying to introduce me to the concept of jokes, but from my limited understanding, everyone should be laughing in order for it to be considered truly funny.” Which, no, the pirate wasn’t very amused! In fact, if she had to express just how entertained she was on a scale from one to ten, her answer would be minus one million. Why Verity would even say this was completely mysterious to her, and… “What?!” she exploded, immediately after madame Zabrina chose to explain what had happened. (By the Shade, by the Shade, by the Shade! So, her Verity was gone? Gone, and replaced with a paltry replica? The gods were mocking her, truly, to give her everything she had ever wanted, only to yank it away all at once. The laughter was ringing in her ears, almost deafening, which… ah, how could one’s heart hurt this much? The muscle was contracting, just like always, but every movement felt as if a dagger was being driven into it, deeper and deeper and deeper. And what of Verity? If some other Verity was here, then her princess had to be somewhere else, and… no. No, no, no! What horrors could she be experiencing?!) “You wicked woman!” Iskra shouted, immediately reaching for her sword. “Nobody has asked you to do such a thing, madame Zabrina. Undo this at once, or… or…”

“Or what?” the fortune teller smirked. “Will you resort to violence this easily? And to think I’ve only done it to preserve your life, pirate! Besides, you are wrong. Verity did ask me to do this, so I was well within my rights. You may not like it, but you weren’t the buyer here-- the contract was within myself and your princess.”

“Is there no way to reverse this?” she asked, ignoring the other Verity for the time being. (The thought of looking at her, and seeing those sweet lips curled into a snarl… no, that was too much for her to bear.) “Please. I shall give you anything you might desire.”

“Anything, you say?” the woman’s eyes glimmered, and in that moment? In that moment, Iskra knew that this had been the witch’s plan from the very beginning, and perhaps even before it. “I might be interested, in that case. Just know that breaking a contract is never a simple thing, and that there’s always a price. A steep one, too. Say, pirate, have you ever heard of the gardens of Mantisilla? A queer flower grows in there, one that can only ever bloom when watered by a princess’s blood. Travel there, make it bloom, and bring it to me.”

“But-- but I’m not a…”

“No, you are not. You do have a princess at your disposal, though, don’t you?”

Ah, by the Shade. Was that what a fly felt like upon being trapped in a spider’s web, hmm? “You heard her,” Iskra forced herself to glance at the Verity who wasn’t Verity. “This is not your world. You may think me despicable all you like, but the truth is that I am not the pirate that you defeated. If you gained Inure in your version of reality, then I salute you. The thing is, here the ship is ours-- mine and Verity’s, that is. If you wish for things to go back to normal, you should help me do as the witch says. What do you say?”

Meanwhile, Verity found herself aboard Inure, surrounded by her women. The stars were shining bright above her head, and someone was playing a sweet melody on a lute, but at the same time? At the same time, something felt… amiss. “Captain Verity!” a short, dark-haired woman shouted. “It’s that terrible captain Iskra again. The Dark Fate is approaching, and what is even worse, it seems that she was able to acquire… um, disintegrating cannons. Captain, this is a catastrophe. If the woman hits us even once, we will not be able to recuperate. Inure will be lost, along with all of us!”

“That is right,” Iskra’s face appeared on the monitor, mean sparks dancing in her eyes. (She looked similar, more or less, except… well, that scar over her left eye hadn’t been there before, had it? Hmm, how curious.) “Should you prove to be too stubborn, princess, I will reduce her to ashes. Would you like such a fate for your grand ancestor, hmm? Or,” her smile widened, “you may choose the path of wisdom, and relinquish your control. The Holy Vessel has wonderful plans for the ship, I assure you.”

 

[starboob]

♕ PRINCESS VERITY (EXILED) ♕​

This Verity looks down at the captain without a glimmer of light in her eyes. The green burns hot like a witch's fire and based on the curl of her lip, she may very well be trying to sear the pirate with her gaze alone. "Is this your newest trick, captain Iskra? How pathetic," the woman spits, her tone nothing short of hostile. (Has Verity ever even said Iskra's name with such contempt? Maybe once, but this Verity says it with such practiced poison like she has spent years figuring out how to make that those two syllables sound as vile as possible on her tongue.) She starts to back away from her target slightly, but most likely to give herself better room for whenever she decides to strike. Her sword is raised and her eyes dart from the pirate to the pirate's sword, as if expecting her draw. "You have made some rather idiotic choices in the past, but playing dumb will no more fool me than a fish claiming she can fly. I have places to be, you dastardly pirate, so raise your sword and let's be on with it!" she barks, lifting her sword to strike, because if the pirate won't make the first move then clearly this Verity––like the regular Verity––will not hesitate in making the first move. However, the psychic's explanation seems to cut through whatever fight fog has wrapped around her mind. Her brow arches in an all too familiar way and while she does not lower her weapon she does skirt her gaze over to the old woman. Anger seems to flash through her eyes, an emotion that seems to be a second skin with this Verity, and she turns her weapon on the psychic. Then back at Iskra. Then the psychic, completely unsure of who she will strike first but there is no doubt that she is calculating who to go after first. "You witch! I never would have agreed to this. Do you not realize you are damning my people with this trick?! I have an invasion force to lead––"

"Pah! As if! If that other Verity is half the leader you are, she will figure out what to do––you both have mostly the same training, just with slightly different experiences. It shall be fine. I am not screwing over the plans of fate too terribly," madame Zabrina assures in a way that is not reassuring at all. "No, the only fools who do that are the ones who enjoy having their brains microwaved, which I do not."

"You will undo this tri––" however before this Verity can continue on with what would have been the most biting remark of the century, the psychic reveals just how to undo what one version of herself made possible. She purses her lips together and takes her eyes from the madame, lowering her sword if only in slight, to look at the pirate. If she is shocked to learn that one version of herself and Iskra apparently own Inure together, it does not show on her face. No, this Verity very much holds her cards close to her chest. After a few minutes, she raises her sword once more and laughs in a humorless way like figuring out the punchline to a terrible joke. "You are to have me believe that there is version of this existence where you and I work together? This may be your most absurd ploy yet––is the Holy Vessel getting upset that you cannot recover that which you lost? A pity, but I shall not be so easily fooled. I see that you are trying to lower my guard with this inane charade and I shall make you pay for trying to play me in such a way. Who is she, anyway?" Verity nods her head towards madame Zabrina, "Myrne in disguise? I always suspected her a witch."

"Oh, this should be good," Zabrina chuckles in the background, grabbing a snack mix and settling into her seat to enjoy the show.

"I shall give you three seconds to draw your blade and then I will strike you down."

***​

Meanwhile, aboard what used to be her pirate ship, Verity staggers through the passageways that are both familiar and strange to her. The occupants, she immediately realizes, are not the pirates she has grown so accustomed to but the women she left. (A pang of guilt surges through her as she sees each of them and recalls their names. How easy it is to forget what she left behind when swept up by her pirate.) When the lieutenant finds her, confusion is written on both women's faces. Cliantha's seems to question the princess's state of dress and Verity's seems to question why the lieutenant is aboard Inure. However, Cliantha moves through her confusion rather quickly as she rushes Verity to the command deck and informs her of... Iskra? "Wha––but that's not..." she wants to say possible, but pauses as she tries to figure out just what is going on. The lieutenant seems to take her confusion as a disbelief and continues on, "Quite the contrary, princess. It is possible and if anyone were to acquire such a weapon it would be those wretched parasites. What shall we do?"

The princess, however, seems to ignore the other woman as she moves towards the monitor to stare at her pirate. Or, not her pirate? Because this Iskra, while she looks mostly the same, is clearly very different than the one she knows. Her Iskra has never looked at her in such a way––even when they had been angry with one another, she does not recall this specific flavor of malice in the captain's blue eyes. Then the mention of the Holy Vessel completely throws Verity as she had thought Iskra killed that woman. (To think there is a version of her that didn't? She cannot fathom it and yet staring back at her seems to be the impossibility herself.) This Iskra even speaks as if she still serves that awful woman. That alone causes her to shudder thinking of the implications. (Just what kind of strange backwards galaxy has she landed in? She does not want to reach any conclusions about what has happened but a rather obvious one is presenting itself to her and the feeling in her chest? It's enough to crack her ribs.)

"Princess?" the lieutenant inquires when Verity's eyes stare into an unknown distance. The princess blinks and seems to change as she accepts whatever this situation has become. "To your post, lieutenant," the princess orders, returning her gaze to this Iskra. (She stares through the monitor, however, unable to look fully at an Iskra who is not hers.) "I think you know, captain, that I will not be handing over Inure no matter how polite or threatening your request," she replies, keeping her voice as steady as possible despite the feeling of her heart hammer in her chest. 'Now is not the Time to falter. There are lives on the line and you must figure a way out of this.' In no more universes can she stand to be the cause of Iskra's Death and even if foolish, given who the Iskra before her must be, she cannot bring herself to even think of harming her.

"The Holy Vessel must not need the ship if she is willing to have it destroyed. The Holy Vessel must want to see you fail, then, too, for no descendent would ever handover that which is ours. I hope bleeding over her sheets is worth it, captain, because you shall serve her disappointment once more," the princess continues, punching some buttons on the control panel to keep them out of range of The Dark Fate. She then plugs in some coordinates into the navigation system. "Let's end this, captain. No more of these petty games and needless Deaths. Come aboard and fight me."

 

[Syntra]

Iskra, of course, knew that this wasn’t the real Verity. Wasn’t, wasn’t, wasn’t! Madame Zabrina had stated as much, and even without her confirmation, the pirate would have known-- her Verity, you see, would never have looked at her like that. Just, no. Sooner than that, hell would have frozen over, and ice-cream would have fallen from the sky instead of snowflakes! Rationally speaking, nobody needed to convince her of that truth, but… well, these things weren’t exactly rational. No, not at all. What she was feeling whenever Verity gave her that icy glare of hers was about as related to logic as a candle was related to a sun! “Believe me or not, I don’t need to resort to tricks, Verity. In fact, your other self would be the first person to tell you that lies are not a language that I speak.” (Well, not until recently, anyway. It was her princess who had taught her that not all lies were necessarily sinful, though-- that, and Iskra still didn’t think that she had actually mastered the art. If you wanted to stretch the language metaphor a little further, then maybe she only knew a few words? Nothing even remotely close to fluency, that much was certain.) “And, even if I did speak it? I have no desire to deceive you. Can you not see that I am not the Iskra that you are so familiar with?” There had to be differences between them, after all! This Verity was wearing different clothes, at the very least, so… so she couldn’t look completely like her alternate version, either. (Especially if that other version still happened to be working with The Holy Vessel, sheesh! Just, what? What kind of path had she chosen to walk, if kissing a tyrant’s boots didn’t fill her with disgust? If her own reflection in the mirror failed to repulse her? No, Iskra didn’t understand. You could get swept up by the winds of fate, bearing next to no responsibility for your actions, but such a state was always transitory, you see? At some point, you had to save yourself! You had to remove the blindfold you were wearing, for nobody else could do that to you, and… and her counterpart hadn’t done it, it seemed. Worse still, she may have approved of The Holy Vessel’s actions! Could she be cross with the other princess for hating her so, then? Just as the pirate’s experiences had shaped her, so had they shaped Verity, too.)

“Cease at once, Verity,” she said, her voice far calmer than what she was actually feeling. “I understand your bitterness, but we do not have to fight. Or rather, if you want to fight, that can always be our last resort. If I am so foolish and dastardly, after all, why would you be afraid of my words? Is it so different, if you cut me down now versus doing it five minutes later?” the pirate tilted her head aside. “I only ask for you to hear me out. Let us converse, and if you find me to be the same woman that you’ve hated for long, then by all means, punish me as you see fit. I shall not defend myself.” …was there truly no way to get to the princess? Surely, there had to be! Deep under all those layers of venom, this woman must have had something in common with her companion, and if nothing else, the Verity she knew had never been shy about sharing her opinions. It was such a fundamental aspect of her personality, really, that the pirate couldn’t imagine that she wouldn’t be swayed by the prospect of a discussion!

…but perhaps that only showed how limited her imagination was, actually. (Was she foolish for relying on something that was no longer there? That had never been there, according to the laws of their universe? Perhaps so, though foolishness was her fate, it seemed-- her only constant in this many-faced chaos.) So, sighing, Iskra looked up at the princess. “Kill me if you must, but I will not raise my weapon against you. Never again. That is the one thing that you cannot get me to do, Verity. I will warn you, however,” she raised her eyebrow, “that if you cut me down, I will only rise anew. That is inevitable, for such is my curse. And when that happens? I shall seek you out and ask the very same thing of you! Nothing will have changed, aside from you having wasted more time. Consider it carefully, princess. I was under the impression that you wanted to return to your women as soon as possible…?”

Meanwhile, an eerily similar drama was taking place aboard of Inure. “What?! Do not presume to question the motivations of The Holy Vessel, princess,” the other Iskra frowned. (And, ah, was there an entire galaxy of contempt in her eyes! Concentrated ire, indeed, and all of it directed at the princess.) “She is not concerned with matters as petty as success or failure-- she is above them, in a way that you can never truly grasp. Whereas you wallow in your frivolities, The Holy Vessel seeks the true meaning of things! It is laughable that you’d even dare to guess what might have driven her actions, though I cannot say that it’s also surprising. No, you have always been far too arrogant for your own good.” When Verity challenged her to a duel, though? Ah, Iskra’s lips stretched out in a smile, as scary as it was wide! “I see that you’ve finally lost your mind, Verity. But alright, I shall not back away from this challenge-- you quite literally asked for it, after all. Say, princess, is there a particular phrase that you’d like to get carved on your tombstone? Lyrics from one of your inane songs, perhaps? I would like to honor you in that way, at the very least! For, regardless what you may think of me, I am not a heartless woman.”

Leaving The Dark Fate behind, Iskra landed on Inure’s deck, and in her hand? In her hand, there was a sword that did not look familiar-- a twisted, blackened thing, more similar to a thorn than a normal blade. What on earth…? “Come at me, princess,” she snarled. “I shall even allow you the advantage of the first strike! It would be oh so very sad, I think, if you didn’t get to do anything at all.”

 

[starboob]

♕ PRINCESS VERITY (EXILED) ♕​

The longer the pirate keeps her sword in her scabbard, the more this Verity's agitation seems to grow. It is entirely possible that she does not believe she can trust a version of Iskra that is not out to get her or is not trying to steal something from her, so the longer the real Iskra decides to remain honorable the more this Verity cannot trust her. (Truly, a rock and a hard place situation with how Iskra is trying to reason with a woman who has never known the fearsome captain Iskra to be a reasonable woman.) However, one similarity between the real and alternate Verity? She is a listener and she cannot block out the pirate's words no matter how much she wants to and it is quite obvious that she is trying her damnedest to ignore Iskra. But some of what she says reaches the princess. She doesn't sheath her sword, but she does step closer to Iskra with her eyes narrowed to slits as she peers over this Iskra's face. She takes another step closer, even. Then she lifts her sword and places it under the pirate's chin as she inspects her face for flaws or signs of the Iskra she knows to be true. "You used to have a scar," she comments, waving her sword perhaps a bit too uncomfortably close over her left eye. "And your sword," she starts, once more stepping closer and grabbing the weapon from the pirate––well, not grabbing it fully but she does pull it half out of its scabbard to look upon it. "That has changed. This should be black steel and resembles more of a thorn." She gets in even closer to Iskra's space, until they're practically nose to nose as she searches her eyes, her own darting between each of the other's; there's something predatory in the way this Verity moves, like she is bear or lion or wolf sniffing out prey pretending to play dead. Clearly, she is still on edge. She shoves the not-black sword back into its home and takes a step back from the pirate. With great reluctance she does sheath her own, but her hand rests on the hilt ready for an inevitable betrayal that will never happen.

"Your resemblance to that monster," she spits, "is uncanny but that bastard would not have hesitated to duel me. I don't believe either of you to be great actors either as I cannot imagine the Holy Vessel would have thought that a useful skill in her soldiers, but if you are fooling me?" her tone darkens as does her gaze, "Seraphina will never let you live in peace and I can promise that queen Halen's reward will not be worth it."

"And, you wench," Verity turns towards madame Zabrina who looks thoroughly disappointed that this had not ended in bloodshed, "I shall make you pay for taking me from my women. In this reality and in my own."

"You will do no such thing to me," she says in the most irritating matter of fact way, arms crossed over her chest and nose upturned to the air like a petulant child, "but good. Take down that bitch. She owes me twenty rubies."

This Verity rolls her eyes in an eerily familiar manner and ultimately lets the psychic have the last word. She turns back towards Iskra and nods her head towards the exit, "You first, I shall follow you. I still do not trust anyone with your face or name. The first sign of betrayal and I will make sure to feed your carcass to the lions, so be wise, Iskra. If this version of you is even capable." Once back out onto the bustling streets of the black market, the princess looks at nearly every person with contempt and remains relatively quiet. It is not until they arrive at the entrance of the garden that this Verity speaks once again, "In this universe, does she not kill you? Do you not torture her? I do not understand how you two are partners when you and I, or some other version, are sworn enemies. It makes no sense and I cannot figure this out; yet I accept you are perhaps not the Iskra that I know and despise."

***
​

Of all the ideas that ran through Verity's mind, fighting Iskra seemed to be the safest option. Somehow. Somehow she rationalized that keeping the captain pre-occupied would give her women the best chance at survival while also keeping Inure intact. In no universe, however backwards, does she want her people to lose one of their last relics. So baiting the pirate seemed the obvious way to go. Especially with the coordinates plugged into the navigational system ready to transport them halfway across the galaxy to get away from The Dark Fate and her disintegration cannons. However, hindsight is 20/20 and the princess realizes how nearsighted she had been as she had not accounted for what it would be like to actually face this particular version of her pirate. This incorrectly done jigsaw puzzle of a woman she has never known. Something about this woman feels incredibly dangerous to Verity and she does not know how all her practice with her own Iskra will help her battle this dark version who still licks the boot of tyranny. (But perhaps there is something for her to exploit there? Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps. One can only hope she can think quick enough to find that exploit.)

"Ah, I was going to offer you the same, captain," the princess taunts, wearing a smirk despite not knowing how this battle will go. Especially with that sword the pirate wields. Something about it feels dangerously threatening. "As I do not think you shall be quicker than I," she continues as she does indeed take the first strike, but she makes it slower than she actually can go. Until she knows more about this Iskra's style, she cannot reveal her own so soon. It is why she only fights her with Gwenwyn and not Telos as well. She cannot reveal all her tricks so soon and, besides, what might this Iskra think of seeing Telos here? Is Telos even meant to be so far from Iskra's homelands?

"I am surprised you still serve that rotting puppet. Has she spread her rot to her disciples so thoroughly that you cannot tell you are following a mad woman? If it were me, I would have murdered her by now. In front of all her subjects," she taunts once more, figuring that if she can anger the woman enough perhaps she can cast a fog over her thoughts. Her Iskra had taught her that in battle one must have a clear mind. (And in order to keep her own mind clear? She avoids looking at this Iskra as much as she can, because those contempt filled eyes? It's a laser right through her chest. Even if she knows this Iskra is not her Iskra.) "Oh, and on my tomb, you may write, 'In the next Life, may I suck on the Holy Vessel's royal tits.' You seem to enjoy the privilege enough." Ordinarily, she would never dream of being so vulgar, at least not with Iskra, but she is hoping that these taunts will work in her favor.

 

[Syntra]

Well? Would she find her death at Verity’s hands once again, or would the Shade smile upon her? At this point, Iskra just… couldn’t tell, really. The other woman’s face was a mystery-- a code yet uncracked, confusing in its false familiarity. (With the real princess, you see, the pirate would have been able to read her. The way she fluttered her eyelashes, for example? That may as well have been an entire chapter of a story, judging how much information Iskra was able to extract from that! …it was tempting, indeed, to treat this imposter in the same way. Tempting, but also foolish. You wouldn’t cuddle a wild dog just because the one you had at home loved you, now would you? Crude as the comparison may have been, it did hold water-- this Verity wasn’t her Verity, and so it made no sense to perceive her like that. You must harden your heart, Iskra told herself. This is not the woman you know. She is like… like her twin, or maybe a twisted reflection. But, ah, why did she have to wear her face, out of all the possible configurations? Why did she have to speak with her voice, too? The similarities were too similar, the differences too different, and the combination of that made her head spin! …her closeness did, as well. Did this Verity have no sense of propriety?! The pirate may not have known much about etiquette, but disrupting her personal space in such a manner could not be considered polite! Therefore, instinctively, Iskra took a step back.) “Well, I have never had a scar there.” And considering that the Shade’s protection was usually enough to heal any scars before they even had the chance to become visible? Her counterpart must have sustained an injury that would have ended her life right there and then, really. …had this Verity given it to her, hmm? If so, then surely, that would have been karmic justice.

“The Holy Vessel?” Iskra asked, clearly taken aback. “No, you are right in that she isn’t such a good actress-- mainly because she is dead, though. With my own hand, I slew her. I have made many unfortunate decisions, but this is one of those that I do not regret.” Also, queen Halen? What? …the future of that other galaxy must have been grim, really, if a woman as chronically incapable of accepting personal responsibility found herself burdened with such a title. (What, exactly, had changed? What had caused their paths to diverge, with their alternate selves following a different route? Once, she had read that destiny was not a rock, but rather a feather-- a feather swayed by the slightest gust of wind, offering you choices and not-choices based on what could only be described as coincidence. What kind of choices had the other Iskra had, then? And the other Verity? Ah, if only she could see the threads that connected them, and where the divides were!) “Alright, then. Thank you for the opportunity,” Iskra bowed deeply. “It will not go unappreciated. Shall we depart, then?”

The garden, the pirate had to admit, was stunning-- a sea of green, and other colors as well, and the scents? Those were almost sweet enough to carry her mind away, from all the worries and unpleasantness. …of course, ‘almost’ was the key word here. No, Iskra would not allow herself to do that when her Verity was still lost! “Oh?” she glanced at her companion, her hands in her pockets. “No, Verity did kill me,” even though it felt like a memory from her past life, or perhaps a movie that she had seen, “but it was a… a misunderstanding, I suppose. I got over it. I didn’t torture her afterwards, and things got worse. Then they got better, somehow. Honestly?” almost against her will, the captain smiled, and it was as if all the roses in the gardens blossomed at once. “I cannot really wrap my mind around, either, though I am not complaining. Not at all. If that means anything, I wish for you to find the same kind of happiness that we have earned for ourselves, with whatever woman you might prefer.” They walked, forward and forward, and there it was! A dead flower plagued with rot, sticking like a sore thumb amidst this oasis of life. “It is my understanding you’re your blood is needed, but I shall not harm you. Do it on your own. I will… I will guard you, I guess.”

Iskra’s mirror, on the other hand? Oh, what she had in mind was the very opposite of guarding, that was for certain. “How dare you stain her name with your filthy lips!” the captain screamed, easily parrying Verity’s blows. “There is little difference between madness and greatness, Verity. They are the same sides of the same coin, and in order to determine which is which? You need to know the context. The fruits that her plans bear, that is. And, no, you shall not be allowed to taste those! The Holy Vessel only ever shares them with those who are faithful to her-- those who would walk through flames bare-footed just to bring a smile to her lips.” …and, the mad glint in her eyes? It showed that Iskra did belong to that group, happily so! “Although,” she smirked, in the same way a shark might smirk if its facial muscles allowed for so much freedom, “I suppose that I might show you some of her might. Remember the last time you beat me, princess? The last time you humiliated me? I looked inside of my soul, and asked myself how that could happen. I did receive my answers, too! Do you wish to know as well? Why,” her smirk widened, “it’s because I failed to give the Shade that which it desired! The entirety of myself, as the law demands.”

As the pirate spoke, the thorn-like sword in her hand began to twist-- more than steel, it resembled something that was alive, or at least had been once. “Bring her to me,” she demanded, only for the blade to split into hundreds of… shadows? Ghosts? It was hard to tell, really, but ah, were there actual faces engraved into them? Faces, stuck in a silent scream? Yes, yes, and they were all heading towards Verity! “Do that, so that you may finally taste her blood.”

 

[starboob]

♕ PRINCESS VERITY (EXILED) ♕​

"You slew her? The very woman whose picture is on top of your nightstand?" this Verity asks, the shock clear in her tone and the amusement glittering in her eyes. However, her brow also arches in suspicion as her version of reality makes what this Iskra has said a complete impossibility. The way her eyes skirt over to Iskra's sword even suggests that she must be wondering whether or not she is about to be stabbed in this lull of security. Ultimately, she decides on laughing though something about it feels much emptier than the real Verity's laugh. Her eyes don't spark the same way, namely, and there is a clear sense that she is waiting for this amusement to be stripped from her. "Ah, if the version of yourself that I know could hear you speak now... I think she would very well have a heart attack. Actually, she would enter a blind rage, rip you apart, and then have a heart attack all while begging for the Holy Vessel's forgiveness. She's such a zealot."

Upon entering the garden, this Verity does not spend any Time on the scents or arrangement of flowers. In fact, she seems entirely disinterested in the flowers and is set on finding the one that shall bring her back to her women and her cause. They even walk by native orchids and this Verity does not stop once to admire them. Though as fixed as she is on finding the flower that madame Zabrina is so desperate for, she all but stops in her tracks when Iskra reveals the nature of the relationship between herself and the Verity she has replaced. Her mouth hangs completely agape. (Ah, so that must be another similarity between this Verity and that! This Iskra makes it entirely impossible for Veritys of any universe to make their masks as impenetrable as they would prefer.) "You are to tell me that not only have you and some version of myself gotten over your initial animosities," very clearly suggesting that herself and the Iskra she knows never once overcame their disdain for the other, "to share Inure, for reasons I cannot even begin to fathom, but that you two are... romantically involved?" She practically whispers the end of her question as if she is speaking something blasphemous. The smile on the captain's lips also seems to take this Verity aback, like she is watching spiders crawl out of Iskra's ears than watching her light up this whole garden. "What a strange mirror galaxy this one is, if I do say so. I seriously wonder what had been going through my alternate's head to leave Seraphina," she mentions casually. "Though I suppose I am happy for her and you. I do appreciate your wishes, captain, but I myself have made my choices that will forever divorce me from what I once dreamed. Girlish dreams, really, but a version of myself that never gave up on that? I think that shall help me rest easy."

Instinctively, this Verity's lip curls upon seeing the blight in this garden as if its ugliness is a personal affront to the princess. "Well, I don't expect to be attacked while bleeding on a flower." She pauses, then adds, "The show of good faith is appreciated, captain." Grabbing a knife that had been hidden inside her boot, the princess draws the blade over her palm without so much as wincing, and opens her dripping palm over the dead flower. Eagerly, the flower begins to twist and dance as it is doused in royal blood; the ashen petals and blackened stem begin burst with color until it finally settles on golden petals that have as much sparkle as diamonds. Even this Verity cannot hold back her gasp, marveling at the flower. However, just as she is about to pluck the flower, some bushes rustle and out come a band of thieves. (This Verity rolls her eyes.) "Ah, so she is a real princess! Perfect, just perfect," the leader chimes with a disgusting smirk, "Hand her over and this won't have to get ugly. We'll let you keep that first flower, but the rest will be ours to sell."

***​

If Verity had wanted to live in her nightmares, she would have simply taken one of those forever sleeping draughts. Yet this version of reality that she is stuck in seems bent on being her absolute living nightmare. She is not sure what is worse––that this Iskra hates her so fervently she can feel it boiling in her bones or that this Iskra has completely lost all sense of sanity. Though she knows it is not her problem, per se, she does feel for this pirate. It's not that she believes it is her fault or the fault of the Verity of this reality that this Iskra is so far gone, but that she knows just how great Iskra can be and this one seems to have made all the wrong choices. She seems to have embraced the rot of her homelands as a warm blanket rather than a disease. It Pains her and she wishes that it wouldn't and she wishes she had not learned more of this Iskra through her taunts.

Their swords, in both a familiar and unfamiliar way, clash and clang against each other. It takes the princess a moment to adjust to this new sword that naturally is wielded differently given its peculiar shape, but overall she is able to keep up with this pirate who is not her pirate. (She wonders just what the Verity of this universe had done to defeat Iskra. If there are any similarities between the two realities, she assumes murder given that it seems as though her counterpart and Iskra have some form of history with one another. Though if that Verity had afterwards been successful reclaiming the ship, she must have been more cunning in her actions. It likely was not on some odd fever whim.) "So your answer to defeat was to become no better than a lemming?"

Ah, perhaps Verity should not have spoken at all because it seems that aggravating the captain had not exactly been the best idea. In fact, it has completely backfired on her! As the sword splits and the faces all come at the princess, she naturally runs. Naturally she is chased. One of those odd tendrils grabs her arm and she smacks it away before it can hold her back. She rounds a corner to give herself some temporary coverage and quickly feels around the utility belt that Iskra has insisted she wear since their run-in with Sebille. (Honestly, she had flat out refused at first since it is so clunky and unsightly, but knowing it would help assure Iskra of her safety, she relented. Now she is more thankful than ever for her pirate's caution.) She plugs her ears, brandishes some goggles, and then tosses a flash grenade towards the flock of shadows and, hopefully, this deranged Iskra.

 

[Syntra]

“Yes,” Iskra nodded, “that is what I did. I’d swear on my honor, but I am not convinced it would mean anything to you. Instead of that, might I simply ask you to believe me? In this universe, the Holy Vessel is dead-- she has been dead for years, and everything is better for it. My life, most of all.” That other Iskra, who hadn’t yet figured out that not all vows were worth keeping? In truth, the pirate felt sorry for her. (True, true, she should feel sorrier for those whose dreams she had shattered on her crusade to please that awful queen, but frankly? The pirate could sympathize with her, despite everything. How not? She was but her own reflection in the mirror-- a symbol of choices untaken, paths untraveled. It would have been easy to judge her, from her comfortable position, but would it also have been right? Would it have been just? Her other self… well, she wasn't present, which made for a very convenient punching bag. How was she to know, for example, that the other Verity wasn't the deceiver here? That she hadn't filled her ears with lies, one more outrageous than the other? Regardless, that mattered not. Graciously, Verity had agreed to give up a few drops of her precious blood, and for that, Iskra was thankful! Things such as 'truth' didn't even begin to enter into it, really. ...did that make her a villain? Perhaps, but if it meant getting her princess back, the pirate would embrace the title.)

“I reserve to right to disagree with one of your points, however," she smirked. "How do you know that it wouldn’t be me who would kill her, princess? That Iskra of yours sounds mad, and madness only clouds your judgment. As I see it, I’d be at advantage if a conflict were to arise between us.” Yes, that, and in the end, her other version was but a coward-- a sheep wearing wolf's clothing, really. (A true wolf, you see, would never have allowed herself to be leashed! Never, never, never, million times never. That she was content in her servitude... ah, that told Iskra a lot about her, alright. More than secrets whispered in the dark would have, too, because, truly, nothing mattered more than one's actions!) When the other Verity started examining the exact nature of their relationship, though? The pirate blinked a few times, clearly taken aback, and her cheeks colored pink. "Romantically involved... you could say that, I suppose. It is... very new. I don't think it has a proper name yet, but yes, that definition does please me." More than she would have cared to admit, too. "And, Verity? I don't think that you yourself believe that. Love isn't something that anyone has to give up on, per se. It's not always the right time for that, though it's not like that opportunity is lost permanently, you see? As long as the roots remain healthy, that flower can always bloom later."

...much like the flower that Verity's blood revived, come to think of it. (Ah, how come that so much life force coursed through her veins? What was it that gave her such power? It couldn't have been her birth, Iskra knew-- not when Verity had been born to fisherwomen, common as the dirt beneath their feet. What was the answer, then? The faith that her people had placed in her? Being this revered must have been nice, the pirate supposed. To be seen as a diamond instead of the stain upon everyone's honor... how many of her sisters would have killed for that? It didn't seem like the Shade was happy to let her wallow in her thoughts, however, for visitors showed up. Sigh. Why could nothing ever go smoothly? Had they displeased the goddesses so, to the point they went out of their way to cast curses on their heads?"

"Stay back," Iskra drew her sword, letting it shine in the afternoon sunlight. "You will not have the flower, you scoundrels. With her own blood, the princess brought it forth, and so it belongs to her!"

"The wrong answer, I'm afraid," the leader smirked. "Very well, then! Let's make this more... hmm, interesting."

Clank! The two blades clashed, and then the women were dancing, in an endless flurry of parries-- the symphony that surrounded them was the steely symphony of death, and, ah, had Iskra managed to cut her opponent? Yes, yes, she had, and now the bandit was bleeding! ...entire rivers of blood were flowing down her arm, but for some reason, she only grinned. "Do you get it now, captain? The extent of your foolishness?" What? What was she trying to... ah. The blood! The soil drank it, hungrily, and by extension, the flower did, too. The flower, whose petals were turning grey like coal, grey like ashes--

***

A lemming. A lemming! Iskra had known all along that Verity was worthless, but this, this had only confirmed it for her. "No, my foolish princess. What I have done was that I stopped being a coward, and grasped the power that was offered to me. It was bound to happen, really. A cub always grows into a bear, you see? Avoiding such a fate would have been foolish, as I'm sure you are aware. None can escape that which is written in the stars, Verity! And my stars... oh, they sing of destruction. Of the lives that I shall end, and the blood that I shall spill. Your name is in there somewhere as well, doubt that not!" And perhaps it was, but the arrival of the flash grenade kind of cut her villainous speech off. Screaming like a banshee, Iskra fell to her knees, only to begin tearing her hair out-- her fists were full of it, and along with the hair, she also ripped out whole patches of bloody scalp. Eek. And then... then she laughed? Laughed and somehow appeared next to Verity, as if she'd stepped out of a shadow. On no. No, no, no! Swiftly, the pirate then grabbed her shirt, and lifted her high into the air.

"Did you think petty tricks would stop me, princess? Hilarious! I am a higher life form-- a creature so high on the totem pole that your sorry eyes will never even be able to perceive the true me. Do you get it now, you stupid wench?" her lips curled up in a smile, but oh, it had nothing to do with the smiles her Iskra gave her. "Beg me for your miserable life, Verity. Do it, and I may spare you. Wouldn't it be funny if I gifted you to the Holy Vessel, after all? Come on, describe to me all the ways in which you might serve her!"

 

[starboob]

♕ PRINCESS VERITY (EXILED) ♕​

While Iskra handles the leader of this vile group, this Verity wastes no Time unsheathing her sword and taking on another one of thieves. (Though she has not had the Time to process that this Iskra has made on her promise to protect the princess, she will later be shocked as she would have expected to be sold out and left for the crows. In fact, the way this princess fights in comparison to the Verity of this galaxy? She fights as though no one defends her. As if she has always been left to fend for herself and perhaps that explains why she appears cold and much more guarded than the actual Verity.) She blocks and parries in polished way, an almost robotic way, but it is effective enough against the scoundrels who have decided to so rudely interrupt their Victory. She tosses one into a bush of thorns and for another, she peels off her own glove and touches their face, melting it completing off. (So that is also new... Apparently this Verity has been gifted a different adaptation.)

Though when her gaze flickers back over to Iskra to see how this pirate is faring, she is not surprised to see her doing just fine on her own. However, what does cause her to gasp is how the blood of non-royals seems to bring the flower back into Death's clutches! That just won't do––not when she only has a few hours to get to her own ship and launch an entire invasion force against queen Halen! Squeezing the hilt of her blade she marches over to the leader of this group. "You absolute and utter fool, you hopeless fucking inbred, you fucking scavenger! How dare you interrupt our task and threaten to keep me in a galaxy where I do not belong!" she barks, the leader turning half way, though not quickly enough, as Verity knocks the pommel of her sword down onto the thief's head. The idiot falls to the ground, unfortunately much too close to these special flowers that continue to disintegrate after being fed so much poison. That might not have been her best move, but this Verity does not seem to despair. Instead she looks over to Iskra and orders, "Move the body far from this patch of flowers. In fact, I saw a wasp nest some meters away and I think that would be a just lovely gift for that breathing of heap sludge."

Once again, the princess re-opens the wound that had started to clot and even drags her sword over her palm once more to increase blood flow. However, the flower's response to her blood is much weaker. It doesn't immediately start to do its dance as before and actually seems to cough and sputter, like on its last few second of Life. The princess does not give up, instead she opens another cut on her palm and another––not caring that this only seems to be keeping the flower alive and not fully bringing her back to Life. No, Verity is madly determined for this to work and entirely unwilling to accept defeat. Eventually, she digs her fingers into the dirt and carefully uproots the flower, gathering the plant in the cup of her hands. (This sort of helps, but it is not nearly as Beautiful as before.) "Do you think the witch will accept it in this state?" she asks, flatly turning towards the pirate. "It's... alive and half bloomed. Really, it's not our fault those fucking thieves tried to reap our reward."

***​

No, this is not at all amusing to Verity. Running away from a mad woman who wears her dandy lion's face is just so far from what she wants to be doing right now that she could laugh about it and then quickly burst to tears soon after. (Just, what has she ever done to earn herself such tests from her Divinities?) She has not totally given up hope that she is stuck in a galaxy where Iskra hates her and has been driven to the edge; she does believe that if she can make it out of this current predicament unscathed that she can find the madame Zabrina of this galaxy and demand she be sent back! Until that happens, however, she must survive the absolute horror that is not her Iskra.

Her eyes stretch so wide they take up her entire face as she watches the pirate tear out her hair, taking pieces of her own flesh with her, and, for the briefest moment, Verity almost feels bad for causing her such distress. For a moment, she thinks of this as her Iskra and she wants to run towards her, scoop her into her embrace, and apologize for causing her such anguish. Then, this Iskra starts to laugh in a way that is not like her Iskra and she snaps back to this reality. Too little, too late, however, as she is not able to scramble and run. It doesn't even seem like that would matter, though, given this Iskra's apparent capabilities. (Could her Iskra do this, too, were she to give herself to the Shade? Is this what will happen to her once the Shade claims her in full?) "Unhand me at once!" she commands, automatically and not at all expecting such a command to work. She twists in the pirate's grasp and sinks her nails into her wrists, but she does not beg for her Life. "You are a pathetic lowlife that could never dream of what a higher life form is even capable of," she snaps, not caring that angering the pirate has not been a sound tactic so far, "Only something as a lowly as you would march to the orders of another woman. One truly at the top would understand she serves no one other than herself! That is why I shall never serve the Holy Vessel, you paltry imitation!"

And with that, Verity shoots out spikes from beneath her nails, all aimed at this Iskra's face and specifically going for her eyes. Then, with a set of bone knives sticking out of her forearms, she jams them into the pirate's arm aiming to, well, amputate her. (She had not wanted to harm this Iskra at all, but this Iskra has done herself a disservice and drawn a clear line between the one who is hers and the monster in front of her.)

 

[Syntra]

So, the funny thing about mirrors? Their reflections weren't exactly accurate, as Iskra now realized. To the untrained eye, it might appear so, though in reality? In reality, the images they provided were distorted, shaped by whatever arcane powers that resided inside of their silvery selves. Of course, the pirate had known that all along! Physical resemblance was just skin deep, and in a world composed of so many layers, it meant nothing at all. Still, it was... a little bit jarring, you know? Watching Verity fight like a lone wolf, abandoned by her pack. (An entire eternity ago, one of the mentors assigned to train the Seeds had taught her an important lesson. 'Watch with your eyes, Iskra,' she had said to her, after a session that had left her bruised and bloody. 'Each movement of your opponent tells a story. You may not believe it now, but when you are advanced enough at this craft? You, too, shall be able to read them like an open book. Just wait and see, child.' It had seemed like a wild exaggeration back then-- something you might tell to a greenhorn, only to laugh at your naivety when she actually bought the story. Hahaha, right? Except that, you know, that mentor had been right! The way Verity fought... oh, it spoke of loneliness, and Iskra's heart hurt for her. Just, what had happened to her? What events had molded her into this shape, so much sharper than her princess was? Where her Verity was a rose, beautiful but full of thorns, this one was... was...)

Ah, by the Shade! Iskra's eyes widened when those words reached her ears, raw and powerful. (They were, um, certainly expressive. Yes, yes! Verity had always wielded her tongue like a sword, and that aspect remained true even across galaxies, it seemed. Crude as they were, they still described the situation rather effectively, did they not? It came off as a shock, though mostly because... well, because Iskra didn't think that Verity would ever stain her lips with such filth, really. It just sounded so wrong from her mouth, soft and pink like rose petals! Needless to say, however, that Verity still wasn't done playing against her archetype. To Iskra's utter horror, the princess turned her blade against herself, and then everything was red, red, red, red like rubies, red like death, red like--! "Cease, princess," she walked to the other Verity, and put her hand on her sword. "Can you not see that it isn't working? The rose has already been defiled, and your sacrifice cannot cleanse it. That would be like pouring water into a cup of mud-- neither will make the other ingredient disappear, I'm afraid. Do you think it wise, to repeat over and over again that which does not work? Are you perhaps expecting different results?" With a sigh, Iskra reached into her utility belt, and pulled out some gauze. "Let me take care of your injuries, princess. In order for you to return to your people, surely you need to be alive? I mean, I suppose I can send your corpse to them, but I cannot imagine that it would be terribly useful."

Light and gentle like the wind, Iskra's fingers wrapped the bandage around her injuries, with the kind of skill that suggested that she was not doing this for the first time. "So stubborn," the pirate whispered. "Another characteristic you two share, I suppose. Can you imagine how many wrinkles your counterpart gave me? Anyway, no, I do not think that the witch shall accept an imperfect rose. Blameless we may be, but do you honestly think she'll take it into account? If honor entered into it, you would not have been here at all! No offense, of course." So, no, blood couldn't purify the rose, but that didn't necessarily mean that something else did not have such properties. What could that be, hmm? The corruption, Iskra assumed, was of spiritual nature-- the thieves were the vehicles of rot, certainly, but of metaphorical one. How could you get rid of something that had seeped into your very core, then? Was that even possible?

"Verity," she said in a low voice, driven by a sudden impulse that originated Shade knew where. "Can you sing? I think that that is what our rose requires-- a spiritual restart, so to speak."

***

"Ha!" the other Iskra half laughed, half barked. "It is no surprise to me that you see it that way, you useless wench. Has nobody taught you that servitude is joy? The one true purpose? We all serve something, princess, whether you realize it or not. You can choose to be a slave to your own lowly impulses, or you can bind yourself to a nobler cause-- fully give yourself to another, that is. Only in that way can we transcend our animalistic nature! Don't you see?" The shadows swirled around her hands, like tiny constellations, and ah, was it just her, or had it suddenly gotten much colder here?

"No, of course that you don't. For that, you are too worthless, worthless, worthless! A princess who thinks she is better than everyone else will never know the happiness that is submission, obviously. Honestly? I feel sorry for you, Verity. Both you and your so called ideals make me weep from all that shallowness!" ...sadly for Iskra, however? Villainous speeches tended to consume one's attention, and so she, um, hadn't noticed her opponent's intentions. Not until it was too late, anyway. With her eyes full of shards, the pirate cursed, and turned around to... to do something, probably, but then her arm fell on the ground, accompanied by a dull thud. Her sword arm, mind you.

For a few heartbeats, the pirate seemed not to recognize what had transpired. She just stood there, confused more than anything else-- one might have been inclined to assume that she had gotten lost, and was about to ask for directions any minute now. When the realization hit her, though? A scowl altered her face, and a guttural growl left her throat. "You're dead, bitch. Dead! Do you think I need a fucking arm to fucking end you?!" And with that, Iskra lunged at her, hellbent on sinking her teeth into her neck.

 

[starboob]

♕ PRINCESS VERITY (EXILED) ♕​

Frustration and desperation both have always driven this Verity to take drastic measures in order to achieve her goals. Bleeding out over a flower so she may return to her women? Oh, that is not even the wildest thing she has done. Besides, she knows that this sacrifice can be fixed assuming she can get back to her ship in Time to have her wounds looked over. If her blood shall make this flower bloom, then bleed she shall! There is nothing more important to her than ensuring she makes it back to her women, even if she must come back in pieces that will have to be glued together. In her murky green eyes, it is a small price to pay. She'd continue it, too, had the pirate not come and placed a hand over her blade.

The princesses nearly flinches at the contact and it's either because she is repulsed by touch in general or she is still not used to this Iskra's suspicious kindness. The look on her face suggests a mixture of the two and her surprise is enough that she remains frozen rather than tearing her hand away or spilling vicious poison from her lips. In fact, she seems too stunned to even remember that under ordinary circumstances she would question Iskra's authority to touch her. Instead, she watches at the pirate wraps her hand and stares at the red bloom beneath the gauze. "... I was not aware that pirates were learned in first aid," she comments rather uselessly. She looks over her hand, then to Iskra, and back at her hand. "I suppose I ought to thank you, so... Thanks. This shall make it easier for my women to take care of it later. I also resent your comment that I am stubborn," the princess says stubbornly, "I merely was making sure that this option had been entirely exhausted. After all, it's not as though I am a horticulturist and the psychic's instructions really only left me with one idea."

She stares at the wheezing flower in her palm, tempted to throw it back into the dirt since this Iskra does not think that the witch will take it in this condition. (Though there is some wicked temptation to shove it down the woman's throat.) It's not like she can disagree with the pirate either, because even her own question had been half hearted and fully hopeful. Thankfully, before she suggests something totally outlandish to get her back to her own galaxy, the pirate offers something far more reasonable. Reasonable in the sense it requires much less Violence. Outside of that it is rather clear the princess is unimpressed with the suggestion. "In this universe do you live in fairytales, captain? Because that idea sounds as though you spun it from cotton candy." After a short pause, Verity rolls her eyes, "Yes, I can sing––do you not know that is how I became crowned? Or has the other Verity not told you this?"

While she does think the idea is stupid, she sees no harm in trying especially since she has no other alternate. The princess clears her throat and begins singing to the flower, "Little friend, may you lay your head to rest / Comforted by the sweetness of mother's caress / Nevermind the nightmares creeping under bed / only those who Sleep are protected from the dead." To Verity's astonishment, as she sings, the flower begins to wake. It responds to each note, each petal shaking off the ash that once covered it to reveal the gilded petals beneath. Soon, the flower is returned to its prior glittering and the princess... the princess is too speechless for words. She simply looks at the pirate and then gestures that they should leave the garden.

The walk back to the psychic's tent is much less conversational than when walking towards the gardens, at least where the princess is concerned. Clearly, that moment out of a storybook seems to have had an effect on this Verity who gave up hope on fairytales. Only when they are back in madame Zabrina's tent does she speak, and she does so with an entire lack of grace, "We have retrieved your precious flower, now put me back into the correct reality before I nail your tongue to the table."

***​

Blood spurts from the pirate's wound and splashes over the princess's face, getting into her eyes. In the same moment the arm falls, Verity is also dropped and she lands on her knees with a low groan. Though she wishes there were a moment for celebration, the Victory is short lived as she numbly realizes this likely will not stop this Iskra. This Iskra whose mind is so far gone, Verity is not even sure if it exists anymore; this Iskra who tore out her own hair and scalp; this Iskra who can wield shadows. No, her adversary will recover far too quickly than is polite and so Verity must not give herself any moment to recuperate. Even with her eyes stinging, she forces herself to scramble away from the pirate and the bloody mess. "You have lost, pirate! Kill me but you are stuck on this ship without an arm and sorely outnumbered. You will be captured. You will be executed––so enjoy your last kill if you must," not that Verity plans on dying, mind you. Not that she believes reason will work, but there is comfort in knowing that this villain who wears her hero's face shall be brought to her knees in disgrace.

When Verity's eyes clear, she catches the pirate lunging towards her but not in Time for her to move away or draw her sword. Instead, the pirate collides with her and she's sent backwards onto her back with this nightmare on top of her. She tries to jam spiked fists into this Iskra's sides, but she does not exactly seem bothered and all too soon Verity feels teeth sink into her neck, almost exactly where Seraphina had once attempted to tear out her throat. (Her nose fills with the smell of the arena’s bloodied sands; she hears echoes of a cheering audience.) The princess opens her mouth and screams––

 

[Syntra]

"Why wouldn't we be?" Iskra raised her eyebrow. "We get hurt often, princess. You may think it a noble skill, one reserved for healers and fair maidens, but in truth, it is a most practical thing. When Myrne isn't around, it is useful to know how to patch yourself up, you see?" The Shade shielded her from the long-term consequences, yes, but never from receiving an injury-- her flesh was still soft, soft and malleable, and with a sword, it could easily be turned into a canvas for another's cruelty. Hell, it had been, multiple times! Why not learn how to help it heal faster, then? Time was the most precious of resources, the captain had learned, which meant that only a fool would squander it. And a fool... oh, a fool she wasn't, alright! Many titles had she earned with her deeds, though hopefully not that one. "I will accept your thanks, however." Once, Iskra might have rejected it, under the guise of humility-- a princess should not feel indebted to a mere pirate, after all. How could that ever be right, hmm? (The answer, of course, was 'easily.' You only had to look beyond one's role to see, truly see, the person hiding under it! So, no, it might not have been appropriate for a princess to hold gratitude in her heart towards a pirate, but it wasn't necessarily wrong for Verity to thank Iskra. Funny how that worked, wasn't it? ...if only she hadn't had to pay for that lesson with blood, both hers and those of others.)

"A fairy tale?" Iskra repeated, somewhat amused. "I am an immortal monstrosity, sustained by a living shadow. You are the expert storyteller here, of course, but am I wrong to think that the proper genre here would be horror?" Yes, horror so deep it colored one's soul black-- a creeping sense of dread that made a home of you, uninvited, and hollowed you from inside out. Oh, how well she knew that feeling! ...and yet, yet it was always the darkest before the dawn broke, and in the thickest of nights, stars shone the brightest. Perhaps, in a way, it had been what had allowed her to find her princess? Her guiding star? "Either way, no, it's not fairy tale logic. It's just logic, Verity. Do you think that, just because something appears magical, it cannot also be true? In numerous books that I have read, it is described how plants adore music-- how they thrive when they get to enjoy it, and bear more fruits. Why is it easier for you to accept that this flower yearns after your blood, than it is to accept that it might also love your voice? Both are intrinsic parts of you."

And, indeed, when the princess caressed the flower with her sweet song? Life returned to it, along with a burst of color! (Gold, Iskra realized. Gold, like jewels and the eyes of snakes. Was that why madame Zabrina desired the blossom? Did she want to sell it on the black market, like the oddity it was, or was there a deeper meaning behind her request? As usual, her questions only gave birth to more questions, and Iskra didn't know, know, know! ...didn't know, yes, but also didn't care. The fortune teller's whims mattered not-- not when her Verity was stuck in that other dimension, alone and helpless. Ah, by the Shade, how was she doing now? Something told her that, no, her other self hadn't exactly invited her to a tea party! Please, be alright. Please. I can deal with anything, but I cannot lose you. And to think that, in some capacity, she might be the reason behind her demise? No, no, no, Iskra would rather drive her own sword into her heart!)

"Welcome back, my adventurers," madame Zabrina grinned, ignoring Verity's sharpness pointedly. Truly, one might think they were old friends, and not those she had tricked! "Indeed, I see that you've held up your end of the bargain. Beautiful, isn't she? The blossom whose life you've saved. Do you know, princess, why was it your blood that had to be spilled? Because, many months ago, it was a queen who had reduced her to such a sorry state. The flower refused to bow to her-- in her mind, she only lived to honor the sun, who had blessed her with the golden hue of its rays. The queen's ego couldn't deal with that, you see? And so that resistance had to be destroyed, no matter how symbolic it was. Soon," she smiled, and it was the smile of a hungry wolf, "you might taste your cruelty yourself. Beware, captain Iskra. Beware, princess Verity. I did want to save you, oh, I did, but you cannot save the unwilling!" And, before any of them could say anything? Her eye left its socket, and swallowed Verity whole-- chomp, chomp, it chewed, only to spit out... well, the woman Iskra hoped was her princess. Her princess, who was bleeding!

"Verity!" she shrieked, closing her arms around her in a tight embrace. "Shh, shh, it's alright. You're with me-- you are home." Because, yes, never had it seemed more clear to her that home was where Verity was, and... and perhaps she felt the same, the pirate dared to hope. (Wasn't that intoxicating? Looking at the one your heart beat for, and allowing yourself to get wrapped up in those sweet maybes?) "What happened to you?" she asked, breathless. "Here, let me take care of your injuries!"