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+--- Thread: Blackfeather Woods Sleep is a little Death. (/showthread.php?tid=24774)
Sleep is a little Death. - Potema - January 10, 2018
She had not been in the Temple in ages it seemed, a duty that had been ignored while enraptured by the tendrils of the poppy seeds. She was lucky that she was not the only devout member here in Blackfeather Woods, and that others had been vigilant enough to keep the Temple relatively clean.
But there were things that only she, a priestess and witch, could do for the Temple. Potema scoured the herbstore for whatever herbs she could find, bringing bundle of magic-laden herbs and moss to Nightcaller Temple. Potema began methodically cleaning the Temple, rubbing the stones with slightly soaked moss, and leaving small bundles of herbs and bone and fur — fetishes — at places where she sensed weaker points in the bond between this world in the next, getting lost in the familiarity of the process.
RE: Sleep is a little Death. - Maegi - January 10, 2018
ooooo
It had become an almost everyday occurrence that Maegi made her way through Namira's Mire to the Temple, whether on a solo mission or to meet Miraak there for lessons. She especially liked to go at twilight, when the sky was still bright enough to light her way but it was just dark enough to set the Altar aglow.
Her jaws were filled with a mouse she had managed to kill--she had been told that offerings in blood to the gods satisfied them, and this would have to do, as she hadn't had the opportunity to slay a larger animal. . .like another wolf. The small creature swinging from her jaws, Maegi trotted awkwardly through the swamp, letting out a small sigh of relief through her nostrils as she entered the clearing; she did not like the swamp, much.
All relief left her body in less than a second as she gazed out to find who but her mother at the Altar, engaged in some sort of ministrations there. She dropped the mouse to the ground and hung back, wary. She had not seen her mother in. . .gods, how long had it been? And when she had, Potema had been in a poppy-induced stupor.
But her eyes seemed bright, from this distance, at least, and her movements were sharp. Maegi felt uncomfortable, being here with her, and resolved to wait in the shadows, like Euron, until she left. Her mother would probably smell her, but no matter--she'd probably just ignore her, like always.
Her jaws were filled with a mouse she had managed to kill--she had been told that offerings in blood to the gods satisfied them, and this would have to do, as she hadn't had the opportunity to slay a larger animal. . .like another wolf. The small creature swinging from her jaws, Maegi trotted awkwardly through the swamp, letting out a small sigh of relief through her nostrils as she entered the clearing; she did not like the swamp, much.
All relief left her body in less than a second as she gazed out to find who but her mother at the Altar, engaged in some sort of ministrations there. She dropped the mouse to the ground and hung back, wary. She had not seen her mother in. . .gods, how long had it been? And when she had, Potema had been in a poppy-induced stupor.
But her eyes seemed bright, from this distance, at least, and her movements were sharp. Maegi felt uncomfortable, being here with her, and resolved to wait in the shadows, like Euron, until she left. Her mother would probably smell her, but no matter--she'd probably just ignore her, like always.
RE: Sleep is a little Death. - Potema - January 11, 2018
Potema finished the task of dropping fetishes quickly. The weakening of the bonds was rare and only occasionally. She honestly doubted that her fetishes did much to change it, as it was in constant flux. It was a precaution, however; they could not afford to lose touch with the Void.
The silence of the Temple allowed her to clearly hear the soft noises her daughter made, from her hobbling footsteps to the soft sigh and the quiet thump of the mouse. Potema lurched around, her single eye glaring at the malformed creature she had spawned. The white witch's lips curled, a low snarl rumbling in her throat.
Get out,
RE: Sleep is a little Death. - Maegi - January 11, 2018
To her absolute shock, Potema spoke to her upon realizing her presence, her voice venemous. Get out. It was the first words her mother had given her in a long time--perhaps the first words ever--and Maegi was taken aback for a moment, not knowing what to say.
But the gods were comforting whispers in her ears, and she took a step forward instead, releasing herself from the shadows near the edge of the Mire. "Why?" she asked. Her voice was firm but not overly bold; it was a mere question, not a challenge.
"I have been coming here for days. I come to pray, to listen, to learn. No one's ever chased me out before." She said all this in a tone that was cool, almost monotone. She dared not reveal the terror she felt upon seeing her mother's lucid snarl.
But the gods were comforting whispers in her ears, and she took a step forward instead, releasing herself from the shadows near the edge of the Mire. "Why?" she asked. Her voice was firm but not overly bold; it was a mere question, not a challenge.
"I have been coming here for days. I come to pray, to listen, to learn. No one's ever chased me out before." She said all this in a tone that was cool, almost monotone. She dared not reveal the terror she felt upon seeing her mother's lucid snarl.
RE: Sleep is a little Death. - Potema - January 11, 2018
She expects the girl to turn tail and flee, and is amazed to see her stepping forward instead, defiant in the single word she speaks. It only serves to anger Potema further, her ire funnelled into her singular eye towards her mistake.
Potema is for a moment taken aback, but she regains her composure quickly.
Then I will,The witch's voice is murderous, low with dark intent as she begins to move forward towards her daughter.
You profane this Temple with your very existence.The priestess is able to tower over Maegi, the girl still young and small.
Your presence here only mocks them — you taint the Temple with every breath you continue to take.The same clamor of voices that Maegi hears rings in her ears as well. The priestess has yet to hear any dissenting voices as she speaks, and is encouraged by the lack of anger towards her words, verbally berating the feminine spawn she produced.
RE: Sleep is a little Death. - Maegi - January 11, 2018
That terror rose higher as Potema approached, looming over her with a murderous look on her face. Her words were like cuts, sinking deeper into her skin than any physical harm her mother did to her. Maegi felt the tremendous urge to shake, to cry, to flee. . .but, somehow, stayed put, a small ember of resolve burning in her stomach.
"Why do you hate me?" she asked, voice matter-of-fact. "Everyone else likes me. Helps me. They're nice to me. But you. . ."
Her voice breaks a little as she continues, her tone high and incredulous. "You say these mean things about me, but no one else does. It's only you. Why?" Maegi sighed, the sound a little shudder in her throat and chest. "You can chase me out. . .but I'll keep asking."
"Why do you hate me?" she asked, voice matter-of-fact. "Everyone else likes me. Helps me. They're nice to me. But you. . ."
Her voice breaks a little as she continues, her tone high and incredulous. "You say these mean things about me, but no one else does. It's only you. Why?" Maegi sighed, the sound a little shudder in her throat and chest. "You can chase me out. . .but I'll keep asking."
RE: Sleep is a little Death. - Potema - January 11, 2018
omg yes
also this hurts me so much ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
also this hurts me so much ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
Potema laughed, a mad cackle that hinted at the fraying at her mind from the months past. She laughs in the face of her daughter, at her, at her questions. The laughter did not die from her voice, even as she began to answer the girl's queries.
They are all blind fools,All desperately following the rule of her 'son' Vaati, as if he had any true wisdom to bring.
They thought — think — that you're worth protecting. That same pathetic thinking is going to get most of them killed, and soon,Charon's words only foreboded the inevitibility of the invasion. She could only prepare.
I told them to kill you all. Mother told me to dilute the Melonii bloodline, to prevent anymore mixing of the blood.She bet she sounded absolutely mad at this point, insane beyond reasoning, but every single word had been true, simply unstated until something (namely, her unwanted daughter on holy ground) finally made her snap.
She would have wanted to kill you, too,Potema hisses the words. But with her Mother alive, they would have never seen the light of day; the abortion would have gone right instead of failing miserably in her unexperienced paws.
RE: Sleep is a little Death. - Maegi - January 11, 2018
She took the beating, took each verbal blow, and still stood. Most of it did not make sense to her--and Potema's argument that the wolves of the Woods were "blind fools" fell on deaf ears--but the last sentiment, spat out, cut deepest.
Meldresi. It couldn't be true. The woman walked through her dreams; she was the Night Mother, the mother Maegi had never had. Had guided her though every step. If Meldresi had wanted her dead so badly, wouldn't she have struck her down by now?
A sob rose in her throat, but she choked it angrily back, instead glaring fiercely up at Potema. "I am worth protecting," she growled. "You don't know me. This is the first time you've ever even talked to me!"
She went on, rage clouding her every thought. "They know me, they see who I am," she argued, not knowing whether she was talking of her packmates or the gods. . .perhaps both. "Vaati, Miraak, Cic--"
She stopped, her eyes widening slightly. "Cicero," she breathed. "He said he was my father." Was that what this was about?!
Meldresi. It couldn't be true. The woman walked through her dreams; she was the Night Mother, the mother Maegi had never had. Had guided her though every step. If Meldresi had wanted her dead so badly, wouldn't she have struck her down by now?
A sob rose in her throat, but she choked it angrily back, instead glaring fiercely up at Potema. "I am worth protecting," she growled. "You don't know me. This is the first time you've ever even talked to me!"
She went on, rage clouding her every thought. "They know me, they see who I am," she argued, not knowing whether she was talking of her packmates or the gods. . .perhaps both. "Vaati, Miraak, Cic--"
She stopped, her eyes widening slightly. "Cicero," she breathed. "He said he was my father." Was that what this was about?!
RE: Sleep is a little Death. - Potema - January 11, 2018
The girl peeped out some nonsense about being worth protecting, as if that was some argument against her birth and its circumstance. Potema was intent to just ignore it and speak over the girl, but she paused for a moment, realizing what she had exactly said. Cicero got to her. The realization was chilling, and stoked the flame that was her anger, rage, and hatred further.
Potema did not care what blows hit and what didn't, or how deep they cut. The mere release of them was success enough for her.
The Meloniis have been fucking each other for generations,She spits the curses out onto Maegi, as if the young girl would understand at this point.
Mother wanted to stop it. She mated a male outside the Melonii line. I did so too. It would have been fine, it would have been successful but your father was weak enough, insane enough to rape me and that led to you.Potema was practically looming over Maegi at this point, her eye wild.
You with your fucked up paw. Ramsay with no Godsdamn neck! And Euron—Euron wants to eat you. A voice reminded her, echoing and sounding just like Jyggalag's. She gasps for breath, a pause in the increasing crescendo of her speech before three words were whispered, summing all of her feelings up.
I hate you.
RE: Sleep is a little Death. - Maegi - January 11, 2018
I hate you. The statement, which in any other circumstance would have torn a child in two, fell like a stone into a pond: a small, almost silent impact, rippling out in circles. . .only to fall to the bottom and be forgotten, forever.
She had known for a long time Potema hated her; from the moment she had began to think, to understand. These words were not a shock, not a surprise. Maegi had only comprehended half of what Potema had just said--and she bristled as her mother insulted her siblings--but fell eerily still as her mother dropped the last attack. . .or what would have been an attack, had she not known already.
How could she not know? From the days of scrabbling around on the whelping den floor, seeking blindly for sustenance where there was none, Potema had been absent. Gone. Her mind destroyed by drugs, her heart filled with hate. It was so understood by the girl that her mother despised her that she had never even sought her out, looking for love. She knew there was none to find.
And for a long time, she had felt few things in return. Bewilderment, at first, but that eventually morphed into a kind of cool acceptance, void of emotion. But not anymore. Now, as she stood, looking into her mother's manic gaze, she felt disgust. Not for herself, but for the monster that had borne her. Anger, too, for the hatred Potema felt toward her beloved brothers. And, yes, she supposed. . .
"I know," she responded finally, her voice a few degrees colder than ice. "I hate you, too." Without a single word further, Maegi picked up her mouse, turned, and walked back into the Mire, keeping an ear out for movement behind her. She would not let herself break down for many, many paces more.
She had known for a long time Potema hated her; from the moment she had began to think, to understand. These words were not a shock, not a surprise. Maegi had only comprehended half of what Potema had just said--and she bristled as her mother insulted her siblings--but fell eerily still as her mother dropped the last attack. . .or what would have been an attack, had she not known already.
How could she not know? From the days of scrabbling around on the whelping den floor, seeking blindly for sustenance where there was none, Potema had been absent. Gone. Her mind destroyed by drugs, her heart filled with hate. It was so understood by the girl that her mother despised her that she had never even sought her out, looking for love. She knew there was none to find.
And for a long time, she had felt few things in return. Bewilderment, at first, but that eventually morphed into a kind of cool acceptance, void of emotion. But not anymore. Now, as she stood, looking into her mother's manic gaze, she felt disgust. Not for herself, but for the monster that had borne her. Anger, too, for the hatred Potema felt toward her beloved brothers. And, yes, she supposed. . .
"I know," she responded finally, her voice a few degrees colder than ice. "I hate you, too." Without a single word further, Maegi picked up her mouse, turned, and walked back into the Mire, keeping an ear out for movement behind her. She would not let herself break down for many, many paces more.
lmao i had to take xanax for this thread
RE: Sleep is a little Death. - Potema - January 22, 2018
She did not know what she expected from Maegi. Perhaps tears at the verbalization. Or anger. But there was only cold acceptance in the bi-colored eyes before Potema was left alone in the Temple.
She should have realized that she had given her children every right to kill her. The days she ignored their pathetic squalls for milk. The nights she left them alone in the cold. They had every right from her actions. But what of the words that their relatives would have whispered in their ears? What did Vaati say? Or Ganon before he left? What did Cicero say?
Wolves hate the things they fear. And Potema feared her children. They had overcome their deformities and become stronger because of them. Even if she did not give them love and teach them, they had many others who would. Maegi was already learning of the Gods they worshipped. She brought a sacrifice here. Could she too hear the whispers of the Gods around them? Could she feel the weakness in the veil? The cold of the Void?
Potema turned to the altar, the tall stone now feeling foreboding rather than comforting.
Issi pōnta ñuha qilōnarion?She whispered to the voices.
Kessa ao ivestragī zirȳ ossēnagon nyke? Kessa jān naejot se void lēda muña?Her voice caught, sliding into a desperate begging tone. She sobbed for a moment.
Eman issare daorun yn pazavor naejot ao!The witch's voice raised into a shriek.
Ossēnagon Cicero, daor nyke.
The stone remained silent. The voices were muted whispers, just the same as before. Nothing changed. Potema stared at the glowing structure, pleading, but there was no response.
She left.