Preparations for Elpis were taking longer than Scylla had planned, but the senshi of the Kraken was taking care to ensure that the other senshi was kept in the loop. Today was going to be the last trip of preparations, having spent her last few trips carrying over spare oxygen tanks, a few kayaks, and making sure that she had some supplies in the Temple for the grill she had brought over many trips ago. The plan she had come up with was that she and Elpis could kayak over to the Pillar, and together they could scuba down. While Elpis journeyed further down, Scylla would try and brave the pile of corpses she had discovered when she had gone down before- try and keep her poor companion from getting chased by the shadows of the past. The bodies had been nightmare fuel at best, when she had encountered a long-dead eye bigger than her head.
Well. She hoped it was dead, anyways. Some of the currents had felt like breathing, and the thought that she hadn’t been alone on this world, and maybe there were still creatures in the distance like Castor or Pollux had on their worlds… That some of the things she’d imagined were moving in the distance actually were… Scylla had always assumed she was alone, because… they were supposed to be, right? And wasn’t it less scary to think that there would be no danger? And, yet, it was becoming increasingly known that there were… things… on the homeworlds, and the wonders, that shouldn’t have survived a thousand years. And sometimes her power felt as alive as though something on her homeworld was feeding it. Controlling it, in a way she did not.
Yeah, no; she needed to not be scaring herself while she was trying to plan the ceremony for Elpis’ journey.
In the past… there would be a celebration, the night before a descent. It was a celebration that would be the last for many. It served as a goodbye, and gratitude given to the Great One for the joy the child had brought with their life, or thanks for the friendship and aid that the guest had brought, a gift in return for a gift. In the morning the children left with a practiced hunter, or the visitor descended with Scylla, all venturing to the World Pillar and descending the great stalk. Sometimes, one returned alone. If it was an unlucky trip, neither returned. When both returned, it was cause for celebration. The first gem was bound and corded, and their honor necklace began. Dishonor does not lie in choosing to run away, it lies in never returning to the fight.
Scyllans would collect others through the years from lovers, from descending again, from those they killed. Guests would get only the one- it was all an off-worlder truly needed, after all.
In one of the rooms, there had been a stock of supplies. Paints, still wet, glowing when she lifted the lid; clothing and banners, torn and tattered. Strips of leather that served as thongs, some still oiled and healthy, others dry and rotted, the material rotted and covered in salt. Boxes and boxes of other items, and her wisp had spun about her head, covering her eyes as it tried to get in her way. She had pulled the boxes out, hauling them through the temple and dropping them before the throne.
The wisp tried to get in her way again and Scylla huffed, pushing at it. “Okay, okay,” she told it, “I’ve just got more to do.” Spinning, dizzily, it twirled and floated, and she lifted her head in annoyance. “I said-“
Light flashed, blinding her for a moment, and blinking back spots, the senshi had to wonder if this was the last stage in Almadel’s evil plan: blind the senshi with naughty wisps. It was working.
There came the sound of something dragging across the floor, and opening her eyes, the wisp was gone.
Instead, there was a… thing. It was tall, and had a tail, and… legs, and a muzzle. Was it a dog? No… those paws were more like hands, and there was something not unlike leathery nubs under the hide. Had the wisp been trying to warn her? Trying to protect her? Of course, she had been thinking she wasn’t alone, and now she wasn’t, and Scylla went to scramble to her feet as sharp canines were exposed, displayed. The tail was sleek, more like an otter, but the black fur was almost oil-slicked, looking water-repellant, like… a beaver? Or-
She backed up, and large paws reached out to her things, greedily grabbing at one of the boxes- and then it scampered off. “Hey!” she yelped. “No, come back here, I need that!” That box was possibly the one with all her leather bits in it!
The creature seemed to dodge her magic as though it were nothing, almost- floating, through it. It was fast, and Jada followed it for what felt like… ever. Finally, on the beach, annoyed and exhausted, Scylla collapsed to watch it frolic in the waves with her box. The little… whatever it was. Flopping onto her side, she closed her eyes to rest, listening to the familiar thumping of her homeworld, that heartbeat-like pulse.
And took a box to the face. Something fell out of it, clattering into her bodice and stabbing her, and she yelped in pain, jerking up. As she rose, Scylla met intelligent silver eyes, something swirling in them that was… incredibly familiar. “Wispy?” she asked, and watched it preen, lifting a paw to its mouth and grooming one badger-like paw. Well- that was…. Unexpected.
A hand down her bodice fished out the things inside the box- two earrings and a thin golden bracelet, all sparkly, and shiny. The earrings would make a nice upgrade to the dull ones in her ears now, she decided, and slipped them in, turning her head side to side in appreciation for how light they were. And the bracelet made a lovely, dangly addition to enhance the look of her rainbow crystal. So there was that.
“I’m going to put you in the box, if you do that again.” she informed her wisp, and it opened its mouth to make some… unholy… noise. And then it raced off again, flinging itself into the waves with a scream that echoed through the area. “Or not.” Lifting the wooden box, she trudged tiredly back up to the Temple, dropping back down and starting again to sort through all the other items. There were some leather armor pieces here, and daggers, and more shades of paint; there were dining clothes, and utensils, small cups meant for sips of something that could have been liquor? And slowly, an idea of a new little ritual came to mind.
Old and the new.
Our world is merciless, but what is left behind to survive... is strength.
“And we will continue on and on in a circle,” she told the temple, speaking the words her hallucination had told her long ago; and the dust stirred around her, thumping, pulsing, “But from now, we start the circle anew.”
Well. She hoped it was dead, anyways. Some of the currents had felt like breathing, and the thought that she hadn’t been alone on this world, and maybe there were still creatures in the distance like Castor or Pollux had on their worlds… That some of the things she’d imagined were moving in the distance actually were… Scylla had always assumed she was alone, because… they were supposed to be, right? And wasn’t it less scary to think that there would be no danger? And, yet, it was becoming increasingly known that there were… things… on the homeworlds, and the wonders, that shouldn’t have survived a thousand years. And sometimes her power felt as alive as though something on her homeworld was feeding it. Controlling it, in a way she did not.
Yeah, no; she needed to not be scaring herself while she was trying to plan the ceremony for Elpis’ journey.
In the past… there would be a celebration, the night before a descent. It was a celebration that would be the last for many. It served as a goodbye, and gratitude given to the Great One for the joy the child had brought with their life, or thanks for the friendship and aid that the guest had brought, a gift in return for a gift. In the morning the children left with a practiced hunter, or the visitor descended with Scylla, all venturing to the World Pillar and descending the great stalk. Sometimes, one returned alone. If it was an unlucky trip, neither returned. When both returned, it was cause for celebration. The first gem was bound and corded, and their honor necklace began. Dishonor does not lie in choosing to run away, it lies in never returning to the fight.
Scyllans would collect others through the years from lovers, from descending again, from those they killed. Guests would get only the one- it was all an off-worlder truly needed, after all.
In one of the rooms, there had been a stock of supplies. Paints, still wet, glowing when she lifted the lid; clothing and banners, torn and tattered. Strips of leather that served as thongs, some still oiled and healthy, others dry and rotted, the material rotted and covered in salt. Boxes and boxes of other items, and her wisp had spun about her head, covering her eyes as it tried to get in her way. She had pulled the boxes out, hauling them through the temple and dropping them before the throne.
The wisp tried to get in her way again and Scylla huffed, pushing at it. “Okay, okay,” she told it, “I’ve just got more to do.” Spinning, dizzily, it twirled and floated, and she lifted her head in annoyance. “I said-“
Light flashed, blinding her for a moment, and blinking back spots, the senshi had to wonder if this was the last stage in Almadel’s evil plan: blind the senshi with naughty wisps. It was working.
There came the sound of something dragging across the floor, and opening her eyes, the wisp was gone.
Instead, there was a… thing. It was tall, and had a tail, and… legs, and a muzzle. Was it a dog? No… those paws were more like hands, and there was something not unlike leathery nubs under the hide. Had the wisp been trying to warn her? Trying to protect her? Of course, she had been thinking she wasn’t alone, and now she wasn’t, and Scylla went to scramble to her feet as sharp canines were exposed, displayed. The tail was sleek, more like an otter, but the black fur was almost oil-slicked, looking water-repellant, like… a beaver? Or-
She backed up, and large paws reached out to her things, greedily grabbing at one of the boxes- and then it scampered off. “Hey!” she yelped. “No, come back here, I need that!” That box was possibly the one with all her leather bits in it!
The creature seemed to dodge her magic as though it were nothing, almost- floating, through it. It was fast, and Jada followed it for what felt like… ever. Finally, on the beach, annoyed and exhausted, Scylla collapsed to watch it frolic in the waves with her box. The little… whatever it was. Flopping onto her side, she closed her eyes to rest, listening to the familiar thumping of her homeworld, that heartbeat-like pulse.
And took a box to the face. Something fell out of it, clattering into her bodice and stabbing her, and she yelped in pain, jerking up. As she rose, Scylla met intelligent silver eyes, something swirling in them that was… incredibly familiar. “Wispy?” she asked, and watched it preen, lifting a paw to its mouth and grooming one badger-like paw. Well- that was…. Unexpected.
A hand down her bodice fished out the things inside the box- two earrings and a thin golden bracelet, all sparkly, and shiny. The earrings would make a nice upgrade to the dull ones in her ears now, she decided, and slipped them in, turning her head side to side in appreciation for how light they were. And the bracelet made a lovely, dangly addition to enhance the look of her rainbow crystal. So there was that.
“I’m going to put you in the box, if you do that again.” she informed her wisp, and it opened its mouth to make some… unholy… noise. And then it raced off again, flinging itself into the waves with a scream that echoed through the area. “Or not.” Lifting the wooden box, she trudged tiredly back up to the Temple, dropping back down and starting again to sort through all the other items. There were some leather armor pieces here, and daggers, and more shades of paint; there were dining clothes, and utensils, small cups meant for sips of something that could have been liquor? And slowly, an idea of a new little ritual came to mind.
Old and the new.
Our world is merciless, but what is left behind to survive... is strength.
“And we will continue on and on in a circle,” she told the temple, speaking the words her hallucination had told her long ago; and the dust stirred around her, thumping, pulsing, “But from now, we start the circle anew.”
