Isobel Brandt \\ Persephone (praxidike) wrote in thegalaxy, @ 2016-06-20 10:24:00 |
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Entry tags: | !locale: space, issan ren |
playing for the heart and the soul
Who: Issan Vox.
What: Issan makes a brief contact with her deity to update her on goings-on and receive new instructions.
When: Following this thread.
Where: Space.
Rating: G.
Issan had found it difficult to leave the Wraith; if she had not received the transmission from Dee, she wasn't sure if she would have. She had found a sense of peace, a sort of certainty, lying there in Glasya's bed, in his arms, that she had not felt in years. She knew it blasphemous to want it above the goals she had put into place for herself when she had been a child on Nar Chunna, but it was difficult to rank the abstract above the physical. He was here, with her, now; her dreams of a planet and a people still seemed so far off, even with the creation of her coven. Two witches did not make a people; a broken planet did not make a home.
To push the doubts from her mind, Issan took herself to her old room on the Wraith; the few plants she had there still thrived, the spells she'd placed on them for their survival intact. Each was held in a small bubble of oxygen and water that circled through each of its forms; despite her absence, they seemed to recall her presence and drifted in her direction as the room's doors slid closed behind her. Issan smiled, passing a hand over one flora's broad leaves, her hand coming out of the small environmental bubble coated with dew. Issan took a seat on her bed, the carefully folded sheets feeling cold compared to the one she had just come from. Glasya was in the cockpit, directing his spacecraft toward Naboo, where Issan would rendezvous with her fellow Nightsister.
She closed her eyes and reached out; she hoped that the plants would provide enough of a connection for the goddess to find her this far in the depths of space. A gentle hum reverberated from her throat, a familiar lullaby that was ingrained with so much. She need not have worried; almost as soon as Issan opened her mind and sent forth the inquiry, she felt the familiar, roiling presence of her deity.
Hello, inimioară. Never have you contacted me so close together. I hope you have good news.
Issan held her piece for a moment, confused as to how the goddess was able to reach her; she pushed away the thought, not wanting to offend. The goddess was, after all, a goddess, and it was not her place to question.
"One of my sisters has a tool that I would use to strengthen our connection," she explained. There was no immediate response from the goddess, but a sense of curiosity pervaded Issan's form. She continued. "A mask, from her homeworld. She said it would allow me to see you."
The goddess grew silent, and Issan wondered if she had been left alone. Then she felt that familiar slithering sensation, a sense of warmth and cold in her blood.
Are you certain this is something that you want?
Issan blinked. How could she not want it? To be closer to her goddess, to know the full truth of her, to have that certainty that she so often claimed to be fully complete?
"It is, but if it is something you would have me not do..."
I desire this more than anything, inimioară. To be accepted, to be...one, with you.
Want colored the goddess's reply heavily, and Issan was taken aback for a moment. Never before had the goddess given her any reason to doubt, and Issan chalked those emotions up to her present state of affairs with her master. Clearly her judgement was clouded, as much as she was lax to admit as much.
Do not be afraid. Confusion is a mortal affliction, inimioară. As is love. I would remind you that your first loyalties are to me. He was a gift given unto you, and one that can be easily rescinded.
"I am," Issan quickly interjected. "I am loyal to you. I do all of this for you."
Are you so certain?
Issan took more time to reply, turning her thoughts over in her mind. She took any of Glasya and the ensuing emotions that came with him and tucked them into the furthest reaches of her mind like the private things that they were.
"I am yours, my goddess. Yours alone. You know how much I have given up to serve your will."
Pleasure curved Issan's spine, pushing her down on the bed. She bit her lip to hold back a moan, then a cry of pain as an icy touch gripped the nape of her neck.
And there is so much for you to be gained, inimioară. Remember that you belong to me. I look forward to our meeting -- it has been far too long in the making.
Issan lay pressed to the bed as she felt the presence leave her. Her eyes were trained on the wall in front of her, unfocused on the plants that lined the shelves. She could not deny an excitement bubbling in her gut, a falling sense of adrenaline that she always felt whenever she communed with her deity, but behind it all was a sense of dread that she could not shake.
She closed her eyes, willing all other sights and sounds and smells of the ship she was on away from her person. She wanted nothing but silence, a moment of peace to collect herself and realign her priorities.