For @lightvoices !

for @lightvoices​ !

     She would like to think that she is getting used to this place. That the alien sights and the smells are slowly fading into every day monotony, that the noise even during the dead of the night is something she has grown accustomed to, something that does not interrupt her sleep or her peace. But not even the peace of mind taught by the Techeuns can help her now - Her thoughts are so abuzz with home and wrong and please and sorry - That Petra finds herself wandering again, out along the tower’s limits, near the Speaker’s tower, and peering down at the city below.

     There are worse things, she tells herself. She could be dead. She could be here without an end in sight - Instead, she is only serving a sentence. A sentence she does not believe she has earned, of course, but that is not something to be spoken of. Here, she must play the part of an apologetic soul, not an apologist. She swallows and rests her arms upon the railing, reaching up to brush a hand over her patch, and missing eye. She has lost this much for Mara already. A few more years of her hopefully very, very long life - That is not so much to give. Resting her chin in a hand, she breathes out a soft sigh as she feels another’s approach, not particularly in any mood for talking - But, she will entertain the lightbearers, as always she has.

“Starlight was my mother. And my father was the Dark.” 

[Awoken Icon Set]

[starter call! i’ll try to get them done by tonight.]

PETRA VENJ RETURNS | DESTINY 2: FORSAKEN

THE DREAMING CITY;   queen’s court

theawokenqueen‌:

“I imagine you are right about that,” Mara says with a quiet chuckle. “The convenience of getting to die over and over again, and come back unscathed, and as strong as you were before will leave one with a warped perspective, unlike us mortals who have to contend with death as it is.” Though, can she really count herself among mortals anymore? She’s not so sure, not really. Her eyes close for a moment as she shakes the thought from her mind.

She smiles as she listens to Petra. She seems to be in good spirits––well, as good as they can be considering the situations––and Mara knows being out in the field is helping with that. It had been almost cruel, to relegate her to the Outpost, away from the fieldwork she loved. But that had been where her Wrath had been needed most then, just as she is needed in the Dreaming City now.

“It is better you remain a little bit behind the lines,” she says. “You are best left uninjured and alive, and the last thing I need is for you to end up in a life or death situation, though… I know you would likely love something like that.” She shakes her head with some amusement, the smile still on her lips. “Best to let the undying Lightbearers throw themselves at the worst of it. Certainly does not take much to make them do all the heavy lifting for us; dangle something shiny and deadly in front of them, and ask them to jump, and they will ask how high.”

     “I know, my Queen.” There is a long pause as Petra looks out over the mists of the Strand, attention and mind momentarily carried elsewhere by a stray thought, a word from the Queen’s lips that sends her to another time. “But... They are not always undying. I favor some of them. And I worry...”

     The rift generator is spinning up again. She can see a fireteam of two touch down, just beyond the firing line, joining her corsairs in that eternal, looping struggle - Her trigger finger itches to help them, but she resists. 

     You’ve got a blast radius, PV. 

     Her throat for a moment feels like sandpaper before she returns her attention to Mara and speaks again. “...None of this would have happened if they were truly deathless, my lady. They may throw themselves at death as though it is a whetstone, but in the end we have to be there to help them out of their graves. I do not have it in me to lose another one like I lost Cayde in that prison, or Uldren at the watchtower.”