Maea
Stars, hide your fires
They were deeply connected in her mind, for all that the topics seemed vastly different. The ability to embrace change and the need to accept herself were both tied to the goddess of entropy, whose darkness both attracted and repulsed her. Perhaps it wasn't so much that Maea thought she was bad, but rather different in a way that seemed contrary to her own nature. Much like she was different from Sunjata, who never hesitated to share himself with anybody while it was the hardest thing she ever did.
Still, it helped more than he likely knew, to hear that even a demi-god hadn't been close to his god from the outset. Maybe it wasn't too late to at least try asking questions, ignore Thalassa's scorn at the notion, and maybe hear what the dark lady herself thought about it... It certainly played into the 'facing discomfort' part, so it should be in the right direction towards change, at least.
A breath blew strands of salty hair from her face, and Maea straightened up a bit. Then Sunjata hit her with the last part of his response, and she quickly looked up at him with an expression like she'd been clobbered over the head. In a good way – she was blinking red rimmed eyes clear of the painful doubt that bent her shoulders under the weight of a mountain, and with a single question she had to wonder herself exactly why she'd burdened herself with it.
"Well, but... shouldn't I be? Dygra accepted me unconditionally, and Danta took me in even though he didn't have to. Don't I owe them to at least try to fit in?" She frowned softly again, wrestling with the idea. That Isla was different she sort of knew already, but she was such an image of perfection in Maea's mind that it always seemed impossible to emulate her. "I've spent so many years fighting what I'd become... I figured, now that I have a chance to start over, I should reinvent myself completely. Only... I can't seem to let go of who I used to be. I thought I didn't know who I was or what I wanted anymore, yet apparently I have a lot of opinions about a lot of things..." As always, she found herself confounded by the contradictions of her own mind; eager to change, unwilling to let go of who she was, uncertain what that meant, yet stolid in her values and principles. She was certain of her words one minute and deeply questioning the next, as mercurial in her desires as the weather in Flowerbirth.
Offering Jata a rueful smile, it seemed she certainly hadn't changed in the way she kept painting herself into corners, or needing help getting out again. "You really think it's okay to be... just me? It's not... I don't know... wiishy-washy? Half-assed? It feels like quitting, somehow." But maybe that was simply her insecurities whispering that she'd never be enough regardless.
Still, it helped more than he likely knew, to hear that even a demi-god hadn't been close to his god from the outset. Maybe it wasn't too late to at least try asking questions, ignore Thalassa's scorn at the notion, and maybe hear what the dark lady herself thought about it... It certainly played into the 'facing discomfort' part, so it should be in the right direction towards change, at least.
A breath blew strands of salty hair from her face, and Maea straightened up a bit. Then Sunjata hit her with the last part of his response, and she quickly looked up at him with an expression like she'd been clobbered over the head. In a good way – she was blinking red rimmed eyes clear of the painful doubt that bent her shoulders under the weight of a mountain, and with a single question she had to wonder herself exactly why she'd burdened herself with it.
"Well, but... shouldn't I be? Dygra accepted me unconditionally, and Danta took me in even though he didn't have to. Don't I owe them to at least try to fit in?" She frowned softly again, wrestling with the idea. That Isla was different she sort of knew already, but she was such an image of perfection in Maea's mind that it always seemed impossible to emulate her. "I've spent so many years fighting what I'd become... I figured, now that I have a chance to start over, I should reinvent myself completely. Only... I can't seem to let go of who I used to be. I thought I didn't know who I was or what I wanted anymore, yet apparently I have a lot of opinions about a lot of things..." As always, she found herself confounded by the contradictions of her own mind; eager to change, unwilling to let go of who she was, uncertain what that meant, yet stolid in her values and principles. She was certain of her words one minute and deeply questioning the next, as mercurial in her desires as the weather in Flowerbirth.
Offering Jata a rueful smile, it seemed she certainly hadn't changed in the way she kept painting herself into corners, or needing help getting out again. "You really think it's okay to be... just me? It's not... I don't know... wiishy-washy? Half-assed? It feels like quitting, somehow." But maybe that was simply her insecurities whispering that she'd never be enough regardless.
Let not light see my black and deep desires
