[Training] it's only been a lifetime

The chill of Deepfrost extends even the Desert - or especially here, at night. As the wind whips down from the mountains and cascades over the dry flats, it does indeed kick up pale white dust. Tiny white dust devils are whipped up here and there every now and then, but they’ve already affected Wessex. Gods, how beautiful, the night is. It’s almost as if the cold air sparkles and the ground smoothes out, no longer cracked and dry, more like an ice rink than anything else. It’s bright. Pleasant. No longer a dead place. Wessex is still, just drinking it all in. Giant open spaces like this will never not be fascinating, simply because they’re so other. And out of the darkness comes someone else, not immediately recognizable. WESSEX She whispered back, I am the storm

You're so cold

but you feel alive

They made her feel right at home, these bleak and barren wastes, so stripped of color. Much like the Halo tundra once had with it's dagger sharp beauty, all teeth and no silk to soothe the sting, the desert bit into the soul and left her feeling raw. Jagged and ruffled, touched to the very core until all excuses and pretense peeled away.

Salt crusted sand crunched like broken glass beneath her feet and Maea shuddered with delight at the terrible sound. Wrapped in the ratty dark coat with the hair left loose to whip in the wind she pined for the sting of sand in her eyes, of salt on the tongue. This numbness might drive her mad one day, if it had not done so already. It certainly felt like it, as she gazed out across the expanse, and spied a figure standing prone, watching her. An aeolian creature, some dervish dreamed up by night and wind...

She blinked. Shook her head, and looked again. And approached, when she realized that it was only Wessex.

lay your hands on me

one last time

MAEA

Only Wessex, the singular entity, always alone beneath the vast expanse of uninterrupted sky. Always alone, even when surrounded by people. Poor, poor demigod, as her eyes trick her and she finds herself sucked up into the darkness. But again, the ivory-drenched figure (is it paint? It has to be paint. Or a walking statue?) pulls her back, and she turns her head, brow furrowing. The Wraith stares, until it finally dawns on her that it’s just Maea. And that thought makes her smile, ever so slightly. What would Maea like? The question baffles her. But you know what everyone likes? Fireworks. Summoning a kitsune, she asks for fake fireworks in the sky - the point where there are colorful bursts thirty feet above her head and the burning trails fall delicately, harmlessly, around her. WESSEX She whispered back, I am the storm

You're so cold

but you feel alive

If only Maea had known that it was illusion. That Wessex knew how to summon such creatures as the Kitsune. That the fire that rained from the sky couldn't actually harm her. Maybe she would have paused to look up then, and admire the red flowers that blossomed in the night.

But she didn't know. One moment it was her and the demigod, and the next a fox-creature with many tails was there, and explosions went off above her head. Squinting against the sudden dazzling light she made a diving leap away from the fireworks and rolled across the sand, surprising herself with an agility she had never quite tested the limits of. Not in this new body, a mere two years old (where one of those years had been dedicated to slumbering in the Wilds. Time well spent, girl.) and entirely unappreciated.

Rolling up onto her knees, she snapped out an arm towards the kitsune. Circuits connected in the palm, and a crackling torrent of lightning erupted, extending towards it. Would the ten feet be enough? She didn't know. Gut reactions drove her, some instinct that deemed it better to fight than to run.

Maybe if she didn't listen so much to it, fewer people would die around her. The flickering embers of those heavenly flares cast her hands in a crimson light that reminded her of blood. Maea shuddered at the too fresh memories it evoked.

lay your hands on me

one last time

MAEA

Oh no. Oh no. A terrible misjudgement on her part. A hasty retreat and evasion isn’t what Wessex expected at all from this. Maybe she should have made the fireworks into dicks? Yes, that probably would have been more obvious. Trying to figure out how to apologize for the scare, Wessex shouts, “Maea, wait!” to try and get the woman to stop. The summoned kitsune isn’t sentient - its destruction is no skin off the Wraith’s back - but as it dissolves in a crackle of electricity, so too do the fireworks disappear. She sighs and holds her hands up in the universal sign for peace, as she once again tries to reach her sister. “It’s just an illusion. Calm down!” It’s not out of fear of being hurt - it’s just that she wants a chance to explain and show exactly what's going on. WESSEX She whispered back, I am the storm

You're so cold

but you feel alive

Sparks flew, lightning surged and Wessex cried out in protest. Held up her hands, in a gesture that had Maea looking up. Confused. The electricity died out in her palm but she remained on her knees in the sand while the situation sank in.

An... illusion? Blinking, she gazed at the place where the fox had been. Up into the sky, where fire no longer rained down. And as she realized that she had leaped into action without thinking, without understanding... her hands began to shake.

"Sorry. I'm - I'm sorry."

Pale faced - even more than usual - she staggered onto her feet. Those fluid motions were nowhere to be seen now as dread pooled in her gut, and the skin on her hands kept that crimson cast. Wiping them on her coat as if it would ever be enough to remove the stain of what she had done, Maea couldn't quite manage to look at the demigod.

Afraid that the face gazing back would belong to another.

lay your hands on me

one last time

MAEA

Had she not been under the influence of the Sea of Dreams, Wessex might have noticed Maea’s hands trembling. That little detail escapes her, but the others - the fractured movements, the inability to look at her. It’s like they’ve backtracked a few years. Like their conversation in the Climb had never happened. It’s baffling. “For… what?” the Wraith finally asks, obviously a little confused. “You can’t really hurt me. Not to be egotistical or anything, it’s just true.” Shrugging, she takes a couple of steps towards Maea, brow knitting a bit together. “I thought you might like a fireworks show. My bad. Should have made them into funny shapes or something.” Neither of them are really at fault here; neither had done anything wrong. It was just a misunderstanding, and she tries to wordlessly convey that everything is okay. WESSEX She whispered back, I am the storm

You're so cold

but you feel alive

Maea did not understand. Had no knowledge of the kind of mind games the swirling sand might play even on them. They certainly did nothing to soothe the splicing in her mind as reality and nightmare blended together.

Wiping her hands really did nothing to rid that red cast from them - entirely imagined - so in the end she simply tucked them behind her back. Not seeing. Not believing.
"Sorry for... acting hastily. I didn't understand... I should have paused until I did." Even if it would have been too late if the fire wound up being real. But even that would have been better than disappointing Wessex.

Though, maybe the Wraith would be more disappointed if she'd gotten herself stupidly hurt by not reacting in time? Nowhere she turned could Maea see a solution that did not end in failure.

Of course she couldn't - because there was none. It walked in her shadow, following wherever she went.

"It was pretty," she offered, attempting a smile that flickered and faltered immediately, some pale mirror of those temporary lights. "Fire - it just makes me nervous."

A few final steps closed the distance, and she found herself standing before the woman. Demigod, wraith, general and apparently her sister too. Straightening her back did very little to make her feel less small and frail before Wessex. And it had nothing to do with having to crane her neck to look at her.

Not seeing her own hands helped a little. At least Maea could meet her gaze now, with some effort. "I... did I know you could summon creatures?"

lay your hands on me

one last time

MAEA

“Oh.” She shouldn’t chuckle, but she does, because Wessex used to be just like that. Scratch that, she still is hasty. There are various points, even in the very recent past, where she can zero in on decisions that would have been much better choices. But without any powers to stop time, they have to move forward, only forward. Wessex shakes her head. “Please. Everyone does that, including me.” And then she stops shaking her head and just grins, once. “But your concern for me is appreciated.” Very much so. And of course it makes sense that fire - and fireworks - would make a fellow Ascended nervous. But there are things within the demigod that can counteract wounds, can create defenses out of nothing except the sun on their bodies. “That was a kitsune, one of my shift. But I can do many more things.” Sly and perhaps a little smug, she offers her wrist without comment to Maea, pulling her sleeve up to reveal pale skin. “This might be the quickest way. Have a drink. Let your sensors sift through the information they get. Tell me what you think.” Rather nonchalant about the whole thing, Wessex is clearly unphased by the impending pleasure - and she assumes Maea already knows all about that particular phenomenon. WESSEX She whispered back, I am the storm

You're so cold

but you feel alive

Knowing about something and being comfortable doing it were vastly different things, and as Wessex extended her arm like it was the most natural thing in the world, Maea could only conclude that Amun had lied to her. There was no way to avoid biting or being bitten, was there? Not unless she wanted to make herself the difficult one, the uptight and prejudiced one who wouldn't share.

Yet even though she stared at that offered wrist, there was nothing in her but tension and reluctance. Did she have to? Her gaze flitted up to meet Wessex'.
"Flattering though it is..." and she supposed it was, "I'm not... used to this. That is, I - I dont know you, and you dont know me, really, and I know it's supposed to be no big deal but..."

But it was. And how the heck did she explain to Wessex why the generous offer was making her shoulders bunch up beneath the ears, like the side effect of a little pleasure was worse than a blazing torch shoved into her face?

You can't let yourself be ruled by fear, Amun's voice whispered through her mind. Well, she was! And it wasn't so easy to just quit and stop and forget about the hundred little things that had gone wrong every time she gave in and indulged in anything.

"Maybe... you could just demonstrate instead? I've got time." Plenty of it. At least until sunrise, but who wanted to be in a desert at daytime anyway? And maybe if they moved a bit, she might get her hands to stop shaking. That would be nice.

lay your hands on me

one last time

MAEA

Once Wessex realizes her offer is being rejected, she simply shrugs and drops her arm to her side. After all, it’s not like Maea rejected her, she just doesn’t want to do something. The demigod may not understand the reasoning behind it, nor can she know any of her sister’s insecurities, but she does try to keep a judgemental tone from her reply “It’s okay. Your right to choose and all that is the Voice’s core tenet. I hope you’ll reconsider if we’re ever in a dangerous situation together, but for now -” For now it doesn’t matter. And as Maea has another solution up her sleeve, Wessex is still on board. “Uhhh, sure. I hope you mean a lot of time, cause…” grimacing, the General trails off. “I’m a walking weapon. More or less.” So let’s make this a little more interesting. “Tell you what. I’ll send a little something of everything I’ve got your way, one at a time. You try to defend against or dodge them. Yeah?” That way she can get some practice in and Wessex can see where she’s at and what she can do. WESSEX She whispered back, I am the storm

You're so cold

but you feel alive

Was it truly okay? The short girl stared at Wessex as if waiting for the catch, the eyeroll, the quiet judgement behind such simple acceptance - it couldn't be that easy - but it didn't come. And Maea swallowed thickly against the stark revelation of how distrustful she really was, how prepared she always were to see the worst in people.

It was so very easy to accept that everyone must think badly of her, that this simple yet slightly awkward attempt to connect left her bewildered.

"Oh. Yes. If it's an emergency... Thank you." Her relief was palpable, and likely she would have agreed to anything the Wraith suggested. What she put forth brought a tiny smile to the younger Ascended's lips, and Maea nodded even as she backed up a few steps.

"Alright, sounds good. I'm ready." Was she really? Not at all. Fractured thoughts and splinters of feeling kept tugging at her attention - whatever the demigod pulled out would likely be a surprise.

It was fine. If she got a good whooping, it was no more than she deserved.

lay your hands on me

one last time

MAEA

Unsure if she’s convinced by Maea’s consent, Wessex pauses and gives her a searching glance, asking again with her eyes if not with her words. Now, she would never try to hurt Maea, never try to give her more than she thinks the previously, quite fragile woman can handle. But she has a dozen possibilities inside her and though not all are possible at the moment, there are some that are actually quite dangerous. Easing herself backwards across the cracked earth, the General begins. “You’ve seen the kitsune. It’s one of my shifts and can create amazing illusions. It’s part of this ability -” With an unneeded flourish, Wessex gestures up above her head, summoning three small birds of prey - they appear about thirdy feet above her, hovering in the dark night, before announcing a coordinated attack with high-pitched skreeeees and dropping like arrows towards Maea. ------------------ Wessex used: Magic: The Squad | Can summon 3 small, 2 medium, or 1 large regular creature. Can also summon any of her mythical shifts. Summoned animals have an HP of 1 and cannot go more than 30ft from Wessex. Must wait 1 round between summoning if creatures are dismissed/knocked out. Type: Grey | Rank: Mastered WESSEX She whispered back, I am the storm

You're so cold

but you feel alive

Ready ot not, ready or not... here they come. And maybe it was the ample warning she got, or maybe the sensation of her mind being a fractured, broken thing was simply a trick of the swirling sand, but as three birds manifested and came spearing towards her, Maea felt as if all the scattered pieces of herself were pulled together. Blissfully, pathetically relieved to have only a single job left to do.

Defend yourself.

The birds were fast. Maea snapped up her arms and crossed them before her chest, and a shield of humming energy appeared before her. There was a zap and crackle as the birds smacked into it, and for a moment the shield held, and held... then they were through, and the girl fell backward in a roll to protect her face as the summoned animals pecked and clawed at her. Without pain it was mostly an annoying thing; even more so when she realized how trail the creatures were. Grabbing one and squeezing was enough to kill it, and the other two did not last long either.

A few gashes in her cheeks and hands wept colorless rainbows when Maea got back to her feet, but there was a renewed clarity to her gaze as she looked at Wessex - and a slight grin playing over her lips as she waited for the next display.

This was the kind of fireworks she could appreciate.

------------
HP: 61/100 (just for fun)

Type: Defensive | Level: Basic
Energy Shield | When the user crosses their arms, an energy shield appears, reducing damage by the user's basic-item stat.

lay your hands on me

one last time

MAEA