Isobel Brandt \\ Persephone (praxidike) wrote in thegalaxy, @ 2016-03-08 08:40:00 |
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Entry tags: | !locale: naboo, issan ren, madalena |
i never shoot to miss
Who: Madelena & Issan.
What: Issan comes across another potential recruit to her coven.
When: Following this thread.
Where: Naboo.
Rating: G.
Issan still wasn't sure what to think of Gem; that...she? It? was a shapeshifter was interesting enough, but the fact that she was simply a void within the Force was something she never thought she'd encounter. The mission had been completed successfully, but Issan's attentions were now fully turned toward locating the woman who would become her student and, Issan hoped, something more. She knew it was foolish to pin so much on a single thing, but imposing exacting control on her emotions had never been a skill she'd been able to develop. Instead, she'd used it to fuel her abilities, focusing their power in a way that had enhanced her illusions. It was a fair trade.
But for now, dressed in her traveling clothes once more and looking especially indistinct, Issan found herself back in the refugee village on Naboo. The people had not abated, and Issan was glad to lose herself among their numbers. Even though she was headed toward a distinct meeting location, and even with her thoughts filled to the brim with expectation, she couldn't miss the pull she felt as she moved past another Force sensitive. Her head swiveled, spying a brunette woman; attempting to remain casual, Issan slowed her steps to further assess the situation.
Madalena sat on the steps of the little hovel she’d come to call home. She was fiddling with the holoreader in her hand. Dee’s lesson on the device had helped quite a bit more than the booklet in her bag, but the most helpful thing she’d learned so far was to suspend her disbelief. Madalena found herself nearly constantly needing to press her eyes closed, remind herself this was not a dream, and that probably it was rude to keep referring to robots as trash bins.
She almost didn’t notice the woman passing by her; she certainly wasn’t the first person to pass Madalena’s little house. But Madalena did notice, briefly, that she didn’t appear to belong here. It wasn’t her dress or even her skin, but perhaps the way she carried herself; at any rate, Madalena felt a strange connection as the woman passed, and when she heard her footsteps slow she wondered if the other woman had felt it, as well.
She did not look up from the holonet.
Issan bit back the amused smirk that rose from seeing the woman struggling with her holoreader. She was one of many in this village, all of whom had been ripped from lives that were probably far more base than the one they'd been thrown into. Weaving through the crowds, she made sure her path intersected with where the woman was sitting. Waves of Force sensitivity rose off of her, and Issan could be nothing if not curious.
"You look as though that device has done you a very serious wrong."
Despite herself, Madalena smiled. “I should think it has,” she said. “It is perhaps the most vexing thing I’ve ever dealt with, and that is saying quite a lot.” She glanced up and rose to her feet. “I did have a -- friend, I suppose -- try to help me with it, but it’s quite a bit different from the comforts of home.”
Issan's head bobbed in some reflexive agreement. "I imagine for newcomers, the technology here is surprising. Is there a specific thing, or person, you're looking for?"
Whatever connection she felt with the woman, Madalena wasn’t quite ready to completely open up. She still wasn’t entirely sure how she’d gotten here in the first place, let alone if there was anyone here who could help her. “Not really,” she said.
She dropped the holoreader into the bag she kept nearly constantly by her side. In addition to the items they’d given her when she arrived, it also contained the few items she’d had on her person when she’d shown up here. Among them was one of her crowns. Not her favorite one, but it was enough.
“I suppose I’m not really sure what I should be looking for in the first place.”
Issan nodded again, unsurprised by the deflection. Not everyone was willing to bare all for a stranger.
"How long have you been here? It certainly seems like you've been set up well, in the meantime."
“A day or two,” Madalena replied. “Not quite long enough to get used to things, but I’m finding myself more intrigued now, at least.” She smiled faintly. “It’s -- not home, but it’s not terrible.”
"I take it home is very different from here," Issan queried, attempting to press further for information that would help her broach the topic she was most interested in. "Though I will admit, this...village isn't much to look at.
"There's certainly much more to see and do than here on Naboo. I'd be happy to help, if you have any questions -- I'm Issan." She put on her best genial smile, which wasn't terribly difficult; she was on the trail of something she wanted, after all.
“Madalena. Nice to meet you, Issan.” Madalena returned her smile. She had so many questions, she wasn’t entirely sure where to begin. Where are we? Had Issan ever heard of Valencia? How could she get home? Dee had said not to hold her breath, but why? Was her home still there?
Was she dead?
“I’m not sure you’d have the time for all my questions,” Madalena finally said. “There are more than a few.”
"I can only imagine," Issan returned. "I'm sure the basics have already been covered for you, and the philosophical queries are a little out of my area of expertise. But perhaps if you're looking for a way to occupy yourself, I could be of some help. What did you used to do back in your world?"
The chance to reminisce was all it took to ply Madalena for actual information. She smiled broadly. “Actually, I was a queen. Quite a good one, if you ask me, of course. The last thing I remember was a battle and--” she paused. If she couldn’t trust this woman, odds were good Madalena would never see her again. After all, she was just a poor beggar in a refugee camp. “I controlled the minds of a horde of undead.” She stared at Issan, waiting for some judgment or ridicule.
"That explains quite a bit," Issan replied, looking both amused and impressed. "I could sense your connection with the Force from quite some distance away. I assume then you had some formal training?"
“The… Force?” Madalena was taken aback. “I’m not… I don’t know what that is. I, hm.” Frustrated with everything about the situation, Madalena couldn’t decide whether to open up and trust Issan or write this off as almost the strangest thing that had happened to her today. But Issan didn’t seem unnerved or even amused. She looked serious. Madalena frowned.
“Alright, look. I hired an advisor to start an unprovoked war with a small country because I hate them.” She waved her hand, as though that were a perfectly reasonable excuse for war. “He told me about some dark powers he had and asked if I was interested, and of course I was. He just… started teaching me what to do and it worked. I didn’t raise the dead, I only controlled them, somehow.” She sighed. “But he’s dead now, and I’m stuck here. I don’t know anything else about it. For all I know, it was no more than some elaborate ruse.”
Issan listened, her head tilting as she focused in on key areas of Madalena's explanation. "Even better. A clean slate will help you learn your abilities more readily.
"I'm actually on my way to a training session with another woman; she's in the same situation as you. Trapped here, pulled from her own world with abilities she had little knowledge of. But I'd be happy to extend the same offer of training to you. There are plenty of conflicts going on here, and it would only serve you well to be able to protect yourself."
For perhaps the first time, Madalena allowed herself to consider that this was real. This was really happening to her, not just the strange aftermath of badly preserved food or a corset laced too tight. She smiled broadly. “I’d say ‘let me gather my things’ but--” she lifted the cloth bag. “Issan, I am really glad your path crossed mine today.”
Issan returned Madelena's smile. "Believe me, I feel similarly. Should I take that as a yes, or would you like some time to think on it? I can say, not many others will make a similar offer; nor would you be learning from someone of my caliber. Force-sensitives had been few and far between until now, and most of them are in your shoes: inexperienced, needing guidance."
She waited a beat, letting her words sink in. "I caution you to not throw this opportunity away, at least not lightly."
Madalena paused. She felt the weight of the conversation, the opportunity Issan spoke of, heavy on her shoulders. Wasn’t this why she’d left Gareth behind? Wasn’t this what she wanted? And after all, if there was no way back to Valencia and her throne and Gareth anyway, what difference did it all make?
“I’ve thought on it,” she said. “I’d be honored.”
Issan smiled, obviously pleased by Madelena's quick decision but trying not to show it too much. "Well then. If you'd like to come with me, we can go meet with Dee. It's going to be a bit of a hike; we'll be veering off the beaten path and into the surrounding jungle. I can wait for a moment for you to prepare, if you like."
Madalena laughed. “Dee? From the refugee village?” She clapped her hands. “Oh, this is perfect.” She held a finger out to Issan. “Just one minute.” She ran inside her little house, scanning its single room for any remaining possessions. She wrapped the bits of food she’d bought, gathered up a small journal and the strangest pen, and slid them all into her bag. She pulled on her shoes and carefully placed her sandals in the bag. After a final check, she came back out to face Issan and her future.
“I’m ready,” she said.
A grin spread wide over Issan's features. "Good. Let's be off, then." She didn't wait for Madelena, instead assuming the woman would follow; the crowd parted slightly before her, then closed once more as the space demanded occupancy.
Madalena allowed herself a quiet giggle. Things were going to change, and she was going to become who she was meant to be. She tossed the bag over her shoulder and hopped off the steps, hurrying after Issan.