Private What the Heck is That?!

[Pom Stych Tivé]

Ah the Oracle! An ancient spherical crystal of perfection, fortified by her ancestors' Magick, and handed down through the ethereal realm with hope for the future to continue the madness of yesteryears. Faces, whispers, cast forth from the physical realm and the beyond alike abuzz within, of yesterday, today and tomorrow, like a conduit to knowledge. It can inspire those prone to voyeurism, to stare endlessly into fleeting aspects of lives of those forever unidentified, enraptured in detached private engagement, revealing insight to the unexplained and mysterious. One gains not much benefit from such a thing on its own, lest there be jinn on their side, and a whole lot of time for focussed meditation. The meditative aspect the Nightsisters have covered, but the Jinn are a fickle lot which have never taken obediently to being ordained subservient to beings among the physical realm.

The seeker with her face plastered to the oracle often as of late is one Pomstychtivé, most curious of more things now than she was months ago. Initiated into the reveal of more deeper study than her earlier years, expanding her horizons today to ideals which Darth Metus attempted to open her mind to years ago; she was far to conceited to listen then. It must be the Emperor's delivery which earned her attention. Maybe someday she should apologize to her old parole officer, even a man.

Concerned deeply for her son and the path he follows, —always headstrong and clashing against her personal wishes for him since his birth, and following the heart of his father, rogue and singular, a sole purpose with no true account to family regards,— it pains her. At times she detached her feelings just to survive his personal path, but sometimes she searches for him in the crystal ball. Yes, so much like his father, and doing his own thing.

"What does it gain to worry?" she told herself as often as necessary to soothe her heart. But that is exactly what becoming a parent is about, being there when they need you, always meaning well, and knowing when to let go, because they will want to fly solo rather quickly. She placed her hand gently upon her expectant daughter often to link emotions with her.

Myrkr, how she got to be here today… The Nightsister sought to peer upon the unrevealed beauty of her daughter, out of maternal aspects so typical of a heart's longing, her very first daughter to behold. In the magick stirrings of the spell lingering, the image of Darth Miseria once again flickered into existence. Pom made a business deal with the Confederate member and the Epimoní Coven toiled over the product for weeks. When the time came for the exchange of goods, Darth Miseria never produced. Pom learned she had not returned from an encounter with the Agents of Chaos upon Rodia, which had only occurred days before. The Nightsister set out on the hunt for the woman, and learned along the trail of people who provided small tidbits of information that the culprit who fulfilled the role of captor was a Mandalorian. If there is one thing any woman of Dathomir detests, it is learning that a woman has unwittingly befallen victim to a man, most likely without offer of recompense of any kind. She may choose for herself to sell her own body and soul so long as she feels herself merit from it all, but for man to take? Would that the whole galaxy were filled with the core values of the misandrist! There would be more fine wineries to be had instead of sleazy corner bars.

The galaxy's weight of slavery goes around and around still, because he took, they took, so I must take as well! As had Pom gathered the cost of labor in children for the Darth, which she would in her integrity return when the woman is agreed to be returned…with like integrity. Word, to a witch begets magick, and there is no word spoken that is not for good reason. All word is to uphold something of value, mostly life. Integrity she has.

But today, unlike any day ever in her lifetime, the Matriarch mostly unknown to any among the galaxy except family ties she created, left her home in attire most appalling to her personal taste…she chose to dress and speak just like everyone else in order to not draw attention to her uniqueness. She chose to see what she might uncover for the benefit of her old Parole Officer to find out about his daughter for him, but certainly not at any risk of her own.

Proper documentation too she carries as a member of the SJO, legitimate they are. Her own twin's face, from back in the day when the two lived by one singular name, inside one singular mind and not her alias…long story short, after about two years of far too long an internal and external struggle with redemption, the Darkside finally won out. The Light fought most dirty, unrelenting with an emotionally crippling assault like most pompous Lightsiders are often accused of doing to unwilling victims.

Aside from their living a basically reclusive lifestyle, there is probably one thing most unexpected to be learned about the belief of the Nightsisters. They are not inclined to be indoctrinated in the war of the galaxy between Light and Dark simply because it is there and everybody else is doing it. Their own gods are torn from both ends of the same cloth as well, and their Dathomiri followers, like all religions, yield to either one or the other depth, in balance. It is merely the nature of a sentient being to be inclined to gravitate towards one extreme.

Her intention was to come and see about an oddity she read, regarding the nature of a creature called the Ysalamiri. She hopes she will be able to uncover whether or not what some have long stated to be true, if Magick is the very same as the use of the Force. She does not believe so, herself. Yet if it is true and nothing she has shall work here, then the only assistance she has to offer Darth Miseria shall be militant to back the success of her offer.

She walked the vast compound of Myrkr's agricultural preserve, curious to learn what she can. She looked over the pamphlet for the next lecture time on the lizard with the mysterious ability, and planned to be present for it. Until then she busied herself overlooking the vast stretch of forest all around, daring not to reach out with her senses, but so desiring to. So many Jedi present…and they believe I am one of them? Still. No.





K Kaine Australis

 

[Pom Stych Tivé]

Pom stood along the path and peered intently upward into the treetops. She realized that she could see the creatures everywhere. They were camouflaged amidst the treetops. It got her to thinking what sorts of things she might like to learn about it. Its degree of sentience for one thing. So many non-sentient creatures could be lured to freely poison themselves by making their favorite dish. What wondrous advantage would it be if the Nightsisters could not be affected by the Ysalamiri! How notorious a discovery that would be! Too amusing! But all depending on whether or not such will ever be a true necessity. She just found it rather incredible that these creatures live here, and Mandalorians also live here. To her ire they did seem to swarm Dathomir…as if no Nightsisters were even there to defend her sacred and wondrous mysteries!

The little but very pregnant woman made her way into the souvenir shop and she chose some pamphlets on the Those Amazing Lizards! and identification cards about the flora along the nature walk. She bought a sweet little flip book with leaves and flower petals stored inside. There was also one about the raptors of the air, which she also bought. Her favorite, a small handful of feed dropped into the bottom of a brown paper bag to feed the lizards during the live show. All this stuff would make for one fine and detailed study of properties. She did not stop there. She had everything she could gather that was organic. The Nightsister paid the clerk for these things directly, before pointing out her desire for a piece of fresh fruit and a small container of water for herself. She dropped all but her literature into her leather pouch as she accepted her food items.

The crowd began to gather within a small auditorium, suddenly her ears began to ring with warning carried on the wind by her messengers. They knew something about someone present, which she could only guess who or what at this point. Following Jinn around is like…just about as stupid and confusing as it gets. But the last thing she did before she left Darth Metus was knee him in his balls, so she kind of feels she owes her old master one. She knows full well she can be bitchy...fickle. She was small enough that she could not see over the typical build of the adults present that she chose to stand along the wall's edge to view the show while she enjoyed her fruit. Her bag really did not appear to be as stuffed on the outside as it truly is on the inside, and over the course of the show, it's weight would magickally lighten considerably. Even the seed to her fruit she would haphazardly drop into her bag at some point, as she stared off into oblivion obsessed with following the lecture on stage, taking it all in. Many times she was offered a gentlemen's seat, to which she replied her gratitude but that she simply could not see lest she stood, acceptable customs she would not have learned had she not spent time away from Dathomir!

The whispers wouldn't stop however. While the animal handler spoke with the younglings invited to gather in the front of the audience, while their parents laughed at the scene, Pom tried to reach out and gather a sense of what the spirits were all chattering about. Not often are they as incomprehensible as she found them to be now. She could not reach out to gather a feel over the room. The Nightsister froze at the chilling reality of her discovery, and merely cocked her head. Test number one completed. __FAILED.

The whispers got louder and louder, but she could not turn around now to see if there was some reason why. Her heart had since begun to race at the thought of these horrid beasts even being allowed to exist! 'Why it's not checkmate, yet. No!' she thought, trying more to convince herself. 'The Demons can speak, therefore the Amulets do work. But Spells! They are like half of everything we do, and then a quarter of potions need an enchantment uttered in order to even work!' she lamented. 'OH FANGED GOD, HOW DISAPPOINTING YOU ARE TO ME! YOU WEAKLING BASTARD!!!' He has mostly sucked as a god to his people once off Dathomir. And at that thought, the little Mother-to-be paled and she felt a wave of nausea wash over her being. She wished she hadn’t ingested that fruit. Her stomach turned. She saw ceiling and the spirits screamed ’Alor! Alor!’ Then finally she saw the floor. Then nothing more, as she fainted unconscious where she had just stood before.

Oh yes! How excellent a self-preservation method to panic. Thank heavens that is all that happened, that she is not a toad!







K Kaine Australis

 

[Pom Stych Tivé]

M o r t i f i c a t i o n !

Pom eyed the crowd and one hand immediately reached up and gripped hold of his wrist. She wobbled to the side as she sat up. Her eyes wide and expression a hodgepodge of befuddlement. She trembled, "I think the baby just wanted bacon," she gasped. Her clothing cut by the Alor, he broke open a few of her crystal buttons which held potions inside them, the Nightsister immune to their affects due to repeated exposure. The fumes quickly evaporated into the air. "Could EVERYONE just go get me some bacon?" she suggested. Those immediately affected by the potion left. "Not you, Alor," she said, the spirits identified him to her as the one who knew where Darth Miseria could be found.

She sighed, 'So this is the way it must go.'

She held tight to the Alor's wrist that dangled the blade over her precious cargo, before sliding her fingers gingerly over the hilt and slipping it from his grasp. "You're a hyper one; aren't you?" She said trying to hide her exposed femininity. She set the blade off to the side.

Her potion drifted around the room, shifting the equilibrium of the senses of the remaining individuals. The Nightsister focused on the Alor. Holding eye contact with him directly, she unveiled the reality hidden beyond the porthole to the Nether. Immediately her coven members reached through the realms and raised the little woman back upon her feet, casting a shawl over her body. "Relax, Alor. I haven't your testosterone to rule my judgement. Just plans to strike a deal, for the sake of family." Only the Alor could see the truth of what she had to reveal. An illusion was cast for anyone else who might stumble upon the scene. But for the Alor, all around where he and the Nightsister faced one another, the Nightsisters Coven with their Legion of Demons, revealed to him as ghostly images caught in between realms. With them is something he may consider as valuable to himself as Pom considers Miseria…distant family.

Haughty creatures, each gripped tightly the forearm of a Mandalorian youngling whose expression pleaded for their safe bargaining to return to the physical world. The claws of the demons outstretched to extend towards the carotid arteries should any threat be posed at this moment. The Alor held the younglings' lives in his hands. "You value family, Alor? I can trust, we have that in common?" She had never directly met any one of the Mandalorian tribes before today, and she needed to understand their mentality, what they value, and if they can be reasoned with like rational, emotional, ethical beings. Pom would be grand enough to make the first gesture. After that, only time would tell, honestly.

"You want to see them returned to the arms of their mothers?" crooned the Nightsister, whose eyes bled to black as coal as her words dripped with her unspoken spell. "I want you to choose to let them return to the arms of their mothers." The Nether tore open behind her, all light swallowed up into the tear like an atomic collapse. The demons spoke the names of each youngling, one by one a low hiss, while Pom slowly backed into the porthole.

"You return the one Miseria untouched, three days, and you receive as you provide. My word I give as good as you give it to me, Alor Australis. Nothing more, nothing less exchanged. One's integrity weighted against the integrity of the other." She paused for a moment the Oracle message finally becoming clear.

"Free them," she ordered her coven. Immediately the Mandalorian children were ushered from the mouth of Nether realm to K Kaine Australis awaiting in the physical realm, as Pom stood and watched on, all but two of the eldest were permitted to cross over, who Pom stopped from exiting the Nether by placing a hand upon each their shoulders and gripping them tightly. The younglings cried out to the Alor. She held her unsettling gaze upon Kaine. The coven immediately reclaimed these two younglings, grabbing hold of them while the porthole quickly collapsed in on itself. Their names were spoken so that the Mandalorian would know who they are. "Pound for pound seems fair…Alive." Pom was heard having said lastly after the visual of the other realm had already vanished.

She stayed behind beneath the cover of the beyond to watch him for a moment curious to learn who she is returning to.

Men know death.

Women know life.