Private Women's Prerogative

[Pom Stych Tivé]

D A T H O M I R​

Tag: Onrai | Kalanda Tishire​

Time is not to waste. It is one among many most crucial concepts to regard during Potions. It must be ordered in unraveling the mysteries of the universe. It proves patience is key, and as well is effort in haste, as seen in birthing all things from nothing but a mere fleeting desire.

The months passed since the birth of her daughter, Zeptepi. The students had begun to evolve into their individual strengths. The Potion brew for Necrotic Salts aged according to its cosmic design. Tonight shall reign in its final stage of metamorphosis. The moons over Dathomir shall crest at sunset, designating the Bone Temple to align perfectly with their double aligned eclipse.

Nightsisters and Witches of Dathomir alike reveled in this rare celestial event. Tonight their Gods shall be worshipped, magick shall be generated, bonds fortified.



The Matriarch and her coven had labored over her concoction in the Bone Temple since its start. It could only be by some mysterious blessing that the Temple became the focus for the nights gathering. Encampments were erected all around, many since days ago, traveling from afar. The Nightsisters gathered vowed to lend their energies to proliferate the magick of the time consuming and very critical Potion.

As the hours of these last days trickled closer to the moment of the event when the potion would successfully form a compound, covens gathered with their Arts and sang incantations, or danced lasciviously, entranced in the moment.



The Bone Temple, while the staple location for holy gatherings for Pom Stych Tivé's coven, is always open to Darksiders. None aligned to Ashla ever dared enter here, for the voices of the departed would clearly drive them batty. The Mistress Malcontent so accustomed to such influence, never stopped hearing voices long enough to realize how persistent they happen to be.

She stood outside the entrance and greeted those she met, excited about the final stages.
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[Kalanda Tishire]

It had been some time since she had returned to Dathomir. Years even after her training, even still, the feel of the air was not lost to Kalanda. She had embraced the way of the Sisterhood, found liberation from her oppressive mother, and embraced the Ichor fully. Dathomir had nothing but good memories for her, but for a time she feared the idea of setting foot on it once again. Her time with the Sith had made her question the line on which she stood, where and who she was, but those times of tribulations was at an end. Kala knew where she stood, and though she was in love with a Sith, her place was with her sisters of Dathomir.

So when the opportunity came to witness a sacred event, to be brought back to Dathomir for the first time in years, the young witch couldn't resist. Fishing out her mask and robes from her time as a sister, Kalanda made her way back home; though with her mentor in tow. As the ship set down, Kalanda could feel the radiance of the world wash over her. Her force sight could see the echoes of magick still flickering within the planet, the life that flourished here had not diminished with the Sith occupation, and felt every bit as like home with the ground under her feet. Taking in a deep breath, the air brought back vivid memories of her times here, of the healing she underwent, and the transformation that her Matron had given her with this new life. She would have to bring Amur here once the woman was willing to forsake her Sith belief, which to the witch felt would be any week now. "Miss Vanessa, you've been here before, have you not?" Kalanda inquired, setting forth to the Temple in the mental map she had made for herself, not exactly sure what she would find along the way.

It had been so long since she had been home, she could only hope not much had changed in her absence.

Onrai Pom Stych Tivé ​

 

[Onrai]

Kala was unaware of the occurrences that had occurred to her master prior to the woman’s bringing her here. Within her flesh bubbled godlike power, subdued beneath the form she had always borne. The trip to Dathomir was a deliberate act, to assist the young woman in becoming a master of the dark magics those of her world possessed. Indeed Vanessa had been here before - the last time she had come, another Nightmother had power, one she was far more familiar with than the woman she glanced at. Pom Stych Tivé would feel the power dripping from Vanessa, power comparable even to that of the gods the Dathomiri witches worshipped in the centuries past. If Vanessa could claim, as was true, that she was in fact the one known as Onrai, the mother goddess of a thousand worlds, perhaps this would be more amenable.

“I have, and things have greatly changed.” She replied as they traveled towards Pom. “Greetings. I see the Nightsisters have a new ruler. I am Vanessa Vantai, but you may know me better under the name of Onrai.” She replied. “This is my student, Kalanda Tishire. I have brought her to master the arts which she has spent her life learning.”

Kalanda Tishire

 

[Pom Stych Tivé]

D A T H O M I R​

Tag: Onrai | Kalanda Tishire​

Pom studied little into ancient gods beyond those introduced to her personally. For one, she recently determined mankind's concept of god to fall far below her expectations of the meaning regarding which the term ought entail. She understands her views likely not very popular, as most heretics confined themselves to their own Systems. All those fathomed within the hearts of mortal beings are merely demigods, immortals, imposters desiring or demanding worship from minuscule Man. They possess a temper much like that of children, one prime example being the Fanged God; He is an arse, like a lot of men just so happen to blatantly aspire to be. And yet, here upon Dathomir, among the very creation such beings pretend to rule, the Nightsisters themselves have subjugated their very own supreme beings as tools to serve their every whim.

Pom imagines that a true god ought exist far beyond that which its creation should be able to conceptualize. Anything that cannot garner her expectations, she deems not worthy of honest worship. She entertains the notion however, only to earn what she desires, that being to generate the outcome of her Magick. Nothing lesser phases her. This concept of her's surfaced as if from the depths of her Soul, the very moment she met Emperor Carnifex in person. She marveled that her Emperor could extend his reach throughout the galaxy, while her Fanged God's own power, his Spirit of Ichor, remained solely generated upon Dathomir. Emperor Carnifex never blatantly demands worship, nor claims to be the creator of matter, energy, their Physics, nor living consciousness; although he actually Commands it. She fancied him more godlike than those who directly serve those they fancy to master over. Her duties elicit an outward adherence to her ancient culture, and she blindly continues her practice. At first, such revelation outright destroyed her, but now, her eyes are merely open to self conscious actualization.



The Sith occupation is confined to a strip of land around the Warlock's Gate. Dathomir herself is uninviting, harboring an innumerable onslaught of volatile enchantments and preying denizens. The Dathomiri are most willing to accept their Star's position among the vast reach of the Sith Empire. Who else exists in all the galaxy with whom they might build relations? This Nightsister continues the tradition!

Mystical enchantment grips hold of this planet, as it and the Nether enjoined. Originally the Scientific tests directly resulted within the boundary set for the Imperials by their Emperor. In conjunction with the newly induced Chemistry, the Magick of the Nightsisters produced during their usual Witching Hour have wrought forth new and remarkable actualities. Now as Magick of ages old ever hangs over this planetary system and is kept volatile by the consistent flow and generation of the Spirit of Ichor, along with new spells cast and that of the Scientists' generation, unprecedented outcomes have merited. A growing area of Dathomir exists actually within the Nether itself, when viewed from the Nether during the correct time of each day. This feat has amazed the elders and also alarmed them; it also allows for outstanding success in certain Magick.



"I am pleased to meet you both," Pom Stych Tivé returned with a nod of her head. The surrounding area broke out in the festive rapping from a drum circle. "The number of celestial alignments reported to occur this season clearly bless us, and push us to strive towards continuous accomplishments. Timing is everything!"

An initiate presented courteously before them with a tray hoisted upon her shoulder. She curtseyed while she nodded, then swung her tray around in front of herself to present the tray of drinks to the Mistress Malcontent and her featured guests.

Pom lifted two glasses and offered them to her guests before claiming one for herself. "We have a doozie planned for today," she said as she downed her first snort, discarding the empty glass and taking up another.

'Oh, the perils of responsibility!' she thought, while it is highly likely she won't remember a thing about today, when well into tomorrow!

Pom raised her glass. "To the Fanged God!" she bellowed, turning momentarily to face the crowd who reciprocated her toast. "May he not smite us tomorrow while we sleep off our stupor, for how we shall punish him this night!"​

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