Goddess
[member="Celestine deWinter"]
Somewhat touching that the girl had said she missed him. Petra wish she could enjoy the moment; however, the voice in her head had to surface now. Of course, it would, it exists to ruin everything until she centered herself. Dark, cold voice whispered in the ears of the old witch, “Look at that child… Does she even know that she is talking to the one that killed her father? I bet she doesn’t, failure.”
“Shut it.” Petra snapped loudly at the voice but forgetting to user her inner voice. More words of anger wanted to flow from her. That voice was bugging her since waking up. Those angry words were about to flow that she realized her environment. Looking over at Celestine with a little concern in her face, she had to push down the anger. Pushed was the right act, she punched down the feeling, so she could softly and as best as she could lovingly speak. “Oh child, that wasn’t towards you. I’m still dealing with the side effects of my awakening. It is rough act to do.”
“You know I won’t be leaving you… we are Petra, dumb chit.” The voice added in her head. Petra tried to focus on Celestine over getting stuck in her head.
“But, yes… I miss him too.” Kind, motherly tone came out on that too. Then the question came, “Very little of my clan have stayed and my blood that remains alive is spread out across this planet. So, tell me child, what are you doing here?”
Celestine deWinter
Dathomir. Rapidly, it had become the deWinter's home. She was a Cavataio in blood as well and while born and raised far from here, on Endelaan, she belonged here as well. It was a fact Father had put into her head and heart a long time ago. She was not a Witch and yet, here she was, among the Witches of the clan she belonged. And more importantly, among the Rancors that were in her care now.
On the top of the mountain, she observed the valley below. The animals in their care were willful and strong but undeniably loyal. Her time with them had made Celestine understand them better than she ever had. They had taught her greater loyalty than she herself had ever known and for that, the young Princess would protect them with her life if need be.
Her palms pressed against the marble railing as she contemplated. Mandalorians had been dealt with, next thing she had in mind involved reaching out to a family member she had never met. Yet, Celestine had a good source within the Red Lady that Mother didn't know about was feeding her intel. She was, after all, one day going to take over her grandmother's company. She preferred to be informed even if she wasn't permitted to have a say in it yet. And her source had informed her Mother had gone out to reach out to the Confederacy Vicelord. If the Red Lady was willing to open negotiations with them, despite their history than it was within her right to do the very same.
Petra
It had been several hours after the awaken and collapsing outside of her stronghold. The crying with depression was draining on her. That was a more of feelings she normally buried with strong substances. They were what took her away from the plans she had before. So, going back was not plan she had in mind, the idea of dealing that thing in her head had to remain off the table. Of course, she knew deep down that voice had left like it wanted to. They were Petra so sticking around and being a pain was how it was.
Slowly getting to her feet, the struggle was real to get up. It took a bit of time to show Petra that she was not fully back. She checked to make sure her body was healed. It made her realize that a need to change to happen. Black tar and rags for an outfit were not fitting for her. Turning back, the tedious walk back to the housing wing of the clan’s hold had to begin. The only bad thing about it was time to get lost in her head again, and she really did not want that.
“Child, do share with us what you plan to do now?” Old cracking, the dry voice said from the darkness.
“Fix everything… you know that.” Petra openly spoke back to the darkness as she walked.
“You can’t do that, child. You will just go back to the booze and drugs when things get difficult. That is your normal reaction and you know it.” Darkness growled at Petra after finishing its words.
Petra reached up to wipe a tear that was about to run down her cheek. The words were true and at first, she had it hidden. However, it caught up and destroyed three years of her life. The family that was still around was pushed away and forgotten to the deep spiral of self-destruction. A bit weakly replied, “I will find my Mira, Lauda, Mirus, and most importantly Fabula. That one deserves to be treated better… I did her wrong. Then bring them back to be a happy family by rebuilding it with them.”
Wicked laughter came from all direction. It faded to be replaced with a harsh tone. “Really, child? What an idiot to think you can find them and have their support. You killed three of them and forced them back to the realm of the living. They did not have to say over what you did. You once again did what you want…”
“Just f*’ing stop!” Petra yelled. She began to walk faster to get away from her own mind.
“Child… until you accept your sins and not use outside influences to suppress your guilt. You will just repeat with falling into the pit of haze. This time might be the last for you. Like I said before, you almost killed yourself this time around.” There was a moment of silences before the darkness came back to add. “How about you find the others that aren’t so close to you. The ones that survived the slaughter fest like Mirus. We know there are others. The blood sings and it song never lies to us… and there one here, child.”
“Fine, whatever gets you to leave for good.” Petra whined back. She was happy that this could end. Now reaching her old home. It was clear that people had gone through took what they wanted. Heading to the bedroom, the closet still had some pieces of the clothes, but they were torn or as bad as her current rugs that hung from her body.
Since the water was cold, showering was fast. The dress that was not destroyed was picked. The different shades of green dress lower part was torn up but it still worked for Petra. Playing around in the dress to make it feel better on, she was not a fan of such things. It was known in the family and many witches about her view on it. Sadly, she was stuck with it.
Petra gave a sigh while leaving her old home. The song of the blood was the goal at the moment, but what sucked in her mind was the interaction with a person. There were many before the OD; however, the interactions were not civil like this one would have to. She went to the highest of the levels in the stronghold to follow the familiar song. Getting a clear view of the one up there, it confused and left her sadden a little. The woman that felt familiar had Petra convinced that her son Angelo was alive. That truth would have help pull her out from the hole she was circling.
Walking up casually, Petra looked down to see the valley. She pleasantly speak while knowing reaction could be anything, “They are gorgeous like your song, child. Song of devotion, honor and loyalty like the man it is about.” Petra reached up to her cheek to remove a tear. A single one for her boy that died for said loyalty and honor. “Last time I heard the song from one that wasn’t my boy, a small baby girl carried it… and look at you now.”
Celestine deWinter
The presence was powerful, enough to make Celestine turn her head at the approaching ancient woman. Celestin remembered the stories Father spoke, she remembered the warnings and praise mixed together into singular lessons of the Ma'dri he both loved and feared. As a small child, Celestine hadn't understood. She didn't know fear, she only knew the strictness of a Mother who despite her own coldness cared for her. Those lessons made Celestine grow with mixed feelings. She respected her grandmother, she cared for her deeply and yet there were always warning sounds in her mind to never break her respect towards her.
And now that Mother claimed Father was gone, Celestine had wonder as well of his whereabouts. What was gone? Her grandmother was ancient and yet she lived, she and Mother had slept through centuries because of ancient deWinter spirit. Life was a fickle thing in the end. In the sight of Petra Cavataio, Celestine wondered of him more than anything else.
The words she heard were of a song. Devotion, honor, and loyalty as the man it was about. It baffled her what it was that she meant but rather than speaking, Celestine watched the woman remove a tear from her cheek as her mind rushed back to ancient lessons of her parents. There was a song in her but those were words she hadn't heard in so long. Blood was a powerful tool. It was a weapon, it was a chalice of one's being; a strength and a weakness rolled in one. Petra spoke of a boy and a baby girl and almost immediately, Celestine thought back on her Father. "I miss him," Celestine spoke truthfully. Her parents were important to her. Just as her Mother had been given a happy childhood with her parents, she sought to give the same to Celestine and she had. It was a happy childhood, with equal influences of both bloodlines. They both lived in her veins which were perhaps the first of reasons how a deWinter could stand on this soil as the Mandalorians held power over the planet. They didn't really, the Witches belonged to themselves. Those were Father's lessons. Yet, a presence existed and a battle had raged on... and it was thanks to Angelo that Celestine could see past the deWinter beliefs.
Dathomir. Rapidly, it had become the deWinter's home. She was a Cavataio in blood as well and while born and raised far from here, on Endelaan, she belonged here as well. It was a fact Father had put into her head and heart a long time ago. She was not a Witch and yet, here she was, among the Witches of the clan she belonged. And more importantly, among the Rancors that were in her care now.
On the top of the mountain, she observed the valley below. The animals in their care were willful and strong but undeniably loyal. Her time with them had made Celestine understand them better than she ever had. They had taught her greater loyalty than she herself had ever known and for that, the young Princess would protect them with her life if need be.
Her palms pressed against the marble railing as she contemplated. Mandalorians had been dealt with, next thing she had in mind involved reaching out to a family member she had never met. Yet, Celestine had a good source within the Red Lady that Mother didn't know about was feeding her intel. She was, after all, one day going to take over her grandmother's company. She preferred to be informed even if she wasn't permitted to have a say in it yet. And her source had informed her Mother had gone out to reach out to the Confederacy Vicelord. If the Red Lady was willing to open negotiations with them, despite their history than it was within her right to do the very same.
Petra
It had been several hours after the awaken and collapsing outside of her stronghold. The crying with depression was draining on her. That was a more of feelings she normally buried with strong substances. They were what took her away from the plans she had before. So, going back was not plan she had in mind, the idea of dealing that thing in her head had to remain off the table. Of course, she knew deep down that voice had left like it wanted to. They were Petra so sticking around and being a pain was how it was.
Slowly getting to her feet, the struggle was real to get up. It took a bit of time to show Petra that she was not fully back. She checked to make sure her body was healed. It made her realize that a need to change to happen. Black tar and rags for an outfit were not fitting for her. Turning back, the tedious walk back to the housing wing of the clan’s hold had to begin. The only bad thing about it was time to get lost in her head again, and she really did not want that.
“Child, do share with us what you plan to do now?” Old cracking, the dry voice said from the darkness.
“Fix everything… you know that.” Petra openly spoke back to the darkness as she walked.
“You can’t do that, child. You will just go back to the booze and drugs when things get difficult. That is your normal reaction and you know it.” Darkness growled at Petra after finishing its words.
Petra reached up to wipe a tear that was about to run down her cheek. The words were true and at first, she had it hidden. However, it caught up and destroyed three years of her life. The family that was still around was pushed away and forgotten to the deep spiral of self-destruction. A bit weakly replied, “I will find my Mira, Lauda, Mirus, and most importantly Fabula. That one deserves to be treated better… I did her wrong. Then bring them back to be a happy family by rebuilding it with them.”
Wicked laughter came from all direction. It faded to be replaced with a harsh tone. “Really, child? What an idiot to think you can find them and have their support. You killed three of them and forced them back to the realm of the living. They did not have to say over what you did. You once again did what you want…”
“Just f*’ing stop!” Petra yelled. She began to walk faster to get away from her own mind.
“Child… until you accept your sins and not use outside influences to suppress your guilt. You will just repeat with falling into the pit of haze. This time might be the last for you. Like I said before, you almost killed yourself this time around.” There was a moment of silences before the darkness came back to add. “How about you find the others that aren’t so close to you. The ones that survived the slaughter fest like Mirus. We know there are others. The blood sings and it song never lies to us… and there one here, child.”
“Fine, whatever gets you to leave for good.” Petra whined back. She was happy that this could end. Now reaching her old home. It was clear that people had gone through took what they wanted. Heading to the bedroom, the closet still had some pieces of the clothes, but they were torn or as bad as her current rugs that hung from her body.
Since the water was cold, showering was fast. The dress that was not destroyed was picked. The different shades of green dress lower part was torn up but it still worked for Petra. Playing around in the dress to make it feel better on, she was not a fan of such things. It was known in the family and many witches about her view on it. Sadly, she was stuck with it.
Petra gave a sigh while leaving her old home. The song of the blood was the goal at the moment, but what sucked in her mind was the interaction with a person. There were many before the OD; however, the interactions were not civil like this one would have to. She went to the highest of the levels in the stronghold to follow the familiar song. Getting a clear view of the one up there, it confused and left her sadden a little. The woman that felt familiar had Petra convinced that her son Angelo was alive. That truth would have help pull her out from the hole she was circling.
Walking up casually, Petra looked down to see the valley. She pleasantly speak while knowing reaction could be anything, “They are gorgeous like your song, child. Song of devotion, honor and loyalty like the man it is about.” Petra reached up to her cheek to remove a tear. A single one for her boy that died for said loyalty and honor. “Last time I heard the song from one that wasn’t my boy, a small baby girl carried it… and look at you now.”
Celestine deWinter
The presence was powerful, enough to make Celestine turn her head at the approaching ancient woman. Celestin remembered the stories Father spoke, she remembered the warnings and praise mixed together into singular lessons of the Ma'dri he both loved and feared. As a small child, Celestine hadn't understood. She didn't know fear, she only knew the strictness of a Mother who despite her own coldness cared for her. Those lessons made Celestine grow with mixed feelings. She respected her grandmother, she cared for her deeply and yet there were always warning sounds in her mind to never break her respect towards her.
And now that Mother claimed Father was gone, Celestine had wonder as well of his whereabouts. What was gone? Her grandmother was ancient and yet she lived, she and Mother had slept through centuries because of ancient deWinter spirit. Life was a fickle thing in the end. In the sight of Petra Cavataio, Celestine wondered of him more than anything else.
The words she heard were of a song. Devotion, honor, and loyalty as the man it was about. It baffled her what it was that she meant but rather than speaking, Celestine watched the woman remove a tear from her cheek as her mind rushed back to ancient lessons of her parents. There was a song in her but those were words she hadn't heard in so long. Blood was a powerful tool. It was a weapon, it was a chalice of one's being; a strength and a weakness rolled in one. Petra spoke of a boy and a baby girl and almost immediately, Celestine thought back on her Father. "I miss him," Celestine spoke truthfully. Her parents were important to her. Just as her Mother had been given a happy childhood with her parents, she sought to give the same to Celestine and she had. It was a happy childhood, with equal influences of both bloodlines. They both lived in her veins which were perhaps the first of reasons how a deWinter could stand on this soil as the Mandalorians held power over the planet. They didn't really, the Witches belonged to themselves. Those were Father's lessons. Yet, a presence existed and a battle had raged on... and it was thanks to Angelo that Celestine could see past the deWinter beliefs.
Somewhat touching that the girl had said she missed him. Petra wish she could enjoy the moment; however, the voice in her head had to surface now. Of course, it would, it exists to ruin everything until she centered herself. Dark, cold voice whispered in the ears of the old witch, “Look at that child… Does she even know that she is talking to the one that killed her father? I bet she doesn’t, failure.”
“Shut it.” Petra snapped loudly at the voice but forgetting to user her inner voice. More words of anger wanted to flow from her. That voice was bugging her since waking up. Those angry words were about to flow that she realized her environment. Looking over at Celestine with a little concern in her face, she had to push down the anger. Pushed was the right act, she punched down the feeling, so she could softly and as best as she could lovingly speak. “Oh child, that wasn’t towards you. I’m still dealing with the side effects of my awakening. It is rough act to do.”
“You know I won’t be leaving you… we are Petra, dumb chit.” The voice added in her head. Petra tried to focus on Celestine over getting stuck in her head.
“But, yes… I miss him too.” Kind, motherly tone came out on that too. Then the question came, “Very little of my clan have stayed and my blood that remains alive is spread out across this planet. So, tell me child, what are you doing here?”
