[Siku's Shrine] Lash of the Whip (Open)

[Lirilazula]

50th Day of Winter, 509 AV

A hot, sultry haze laced its fingers through the cavern of Siku's shrine. The twin sounds of trickling and rushing water swelled the air, complementing one another in an overwhelming harmony. Voices from branching tunnels were swallowed up beyond twisting turns, leaving only sibilant fragments to tickle the ears. These were the everyday sounds of the nest.

A new sound pierced the air: the crack of a whip. As it echoed, the water itself seemed to quiet to a whisper.

Then a voice arose to join it: "You shut your little maw, Sslithus, or I will lash it off properly!"

In a tiny nook adjacent to the shrine, the source of the threat stood, whip in hand, before her classroom of snakelings. The whip still swung, like a metronome, above the semi-circle of Dhani children. Lirilazula narrowed her gaze, flicking it meaningfully across each wide-eyed face, and then gave a satisfied nod.

"Learn to be silent now. It will save you worse lessons later in life," she said. As she stepped out of the circle, she tucked the whip away crisply. "Practice your handwriting for next class. Improvement is expected. Dismissed."

The children arose in a flurry of chatter and parchment, rushing out with nervous laughter. Their robed instructor remained, dusting the chalk from the cavern wall as she listened to their voices and footsteps trail away and, eventually, disappear.

"Mm," Lazula hummed. "The quiet has never seemed so quiet." She clapped her hands together, ridding them of clouds of chalk, and stepped out, into the shrine room.

Her lips twitched. The sight of the Snake Mother, even only in stone, always made her pulse ring in her ears. She drew nearer to the statue, reverence in her step. To think the children passed this vision day by day, sparing nothing but nervous, lingering glances for it, made her ill. Fret not, she assured herself. You will instill in them the adoration She deserves. Even if you must whip it in.

An amused gleam lit her misty eyes as she began to kneel. But once settled before the altar, her robes spread neatly and her head bowed, she grew solemn.

Her prayers began, as always, carefully. She chose the thoughts before they touched her lips. She made certain her whispers disappeared in the sound of the rushing stream beside her. But with time came a sort of fever.

First her thoughts began to roil and churn, and then she lost grasp of their direction. They spun off of her tongue almost before she could discern them. They filled her chest with a swelling pressure. They brought a hot flush to her face. Her hands trembled, and her whispers rose above the other sounds, impassioned sobs that bled into the tongue of the Snake.

She had not willed herself to shift, but the transformation had begun. She felt her skin prickling as the scales rose, arched her spine, and let it begin to consume her.

[Ashivirsthargon]

The miniature cacophony of the sounds of shifting masked Sthargon's approach as he weaved his way up to the statue. The coils of his body lazily glided across the stone. He came bearing a small bag.

Lazula's eyes were still lidded with the pleasures of transformation as he opened the bag and dumped a small pile of Miza into a bowl at the base of the statue. He turned from it, drawing the string of the pouch shut and preparing to exit, when he caught Lazula's curious glance.

"Lazzzzula," he said by way of acknowledgement. He rarely performed the proper courtesies for the priestesses. He used to "forget" just to get under their skin, but it had long since become habit, now, and whatever point he had originally been trying to make with the gesture had been long since forgotten.

He began to slither back toward the exit, but her gaze held him. He never liked that the most spiritual of them seemed to be able to communicate without speaking. His mother was the same way. It seemed invasive, somehow.

His tongue flickered out to taste the air.

Mild irritation. Curiosity. Acrid, acrid piety.

"I do not sssee how it iss important where I got it. Sssurely Sssiku can put it to ussse, yesss? Ssssah. The training hall iss sssshort of everything. We will be fighting Myriansss with sssstalagmitess in another month."

He turned his head to face the door, but he could still feel her eyes on him, weighing. His pupil shifted back to look at her, then the door, then back to her, then back to the door.

"Ssstop it," he whispered, softly.

He swallowed once, tilted his head until a soft popping noise came from his neck, then righted himself and began, once more, that increasingly long slither to the door.

[Lirilazula]

"Stop what?" Lazula asked him, but her eyes kindled with a faint amusement. He saw much, that was clear.

She recalled, studying him, all the things she had heard. Although she could not remember a time when she and Sthargon had actually had a conversation of note, one did not live in the nest without knowing quite a bit about every single other Dhani in Zinrah.

Now, as he slithered indecisively before her, trying to pry his eye from her steady gaze, she considered what she knew of him.

He was a man of questionable loyalty, so it was said. There were plenty of whispers, though the specifics of them escaped her just now. A woman could not waste her time listening to every indulgent wisp of gossip, after all. A woman must devise her own opinion; stand by her own recollections.

What she did recall of him, for certain, was his unfailing presence at every single ritual for Siku. And that, above all, was commendable.

Now, as he began moving toward the doorway, Lazula pinned him once more with her gaze.

"Sthargon." Her voice still quivered with the bliss and effort of her shifting. She moved toward him, slinking across the damp floor. "We require a victim to sacrifice tonight, at the ritual. Perhaps you could assist us in... acquiring one?"

[Ashivirsthargon]

"Tonight?" Sthargon spluttered, wending his long torso around to face her. "I would have to leave right now! I do not have time for thisss! I have... ssaaahh."

His verbal eruption spent itself under Lazula's impassive gaze. He whipped his body around and began to return to the statue, and when he spoke, his voice dripped with irritation.

"If Sssiku requiress a sssacrificce, then Ssshe will have it. Although I do not know why that runt you care for will not ssufficcce. Tell me, am I to get one of the mighty warriorsss that ssstalk our jungle, or ought I get a Myrian, insstead? Sssome other kind of animal, perhapsss? If you require a human, I am uncccertain I can have one by tonight."

Sthargon was mentally reviewing his options. Hunting could bring back a jungle predator. His Myrian contacts could obtain something more domestic. Hunting a man, however - it truly would be up to the will of the goddess if he were to stumble across a lone Myrian or two. It happened, but it was far from likely. Still, a few words whispered in the right ears and a few jewels crossing the right palms, and even obtaining a human was not outside the realm of possibility.

The little speech had taken him all the way back to the base of the statue. His serpentine body slithered against Lazula's, roughly stroking her scales as he slid along her body, bending his torso to observe her from another angle, leveling his eyes with hers. His tongue flickered out and vanished.

He reached for the bowl and took a few Mizas from the pile he had deposited, earlier. His torso swayed precariously to the other direction, causing him to view her face from the other side.

"What iss our Lady'sss desssire, then?" he rasped.

[Lirilazula]

There was a quick blaze of anger across Lazula's face. Nostrils flared; the line of her jaw twitched. She was accustomed to fending off remarks about Sylthea, but they provoked her nonetheless, especially from a person who barely knew her. A questionable, vexing man, at that.

Sthargon's tantalizing movements only gave friction to her irritation. Rage prickled in her belly. She spun around to face him, her movement further tangling their tails.

"It is not your place to speak of her." A hiss rose from deep within her throat. "And on that note, fetch a --" Human. She cut herself short; caught the word before saying it.

No, she scolded herself. Letting him get under her skin, and worse yet, entangling her temper in a matter of duty, would not be wise. Reacting to her rage could put him in danger - if, of course, he answered to what she demanded. Sending one of her own into a death trap because he had insulted her feelings? And how exactly, she asked herself, would Siku feel about that?

She hissed again, giving release to her annoyance, and turned away from Sthargon. Her eyes still glowed hotly as she looked to the statue once more. Mother, tame me.

"Fetch what you can, on such short notice," she decided. From the corner of her eye, she watched his hand dip into the offering bowl. Swiftly, she snatched for his wrist and plucked the coins from his fingers, tossing them back into the bowl with a ringing clatter. She caught his gaze, hers fierce. "And get going. As you so accurately informed me, you do not have much time."

[Ashivirsthargon]

Sthargon stared at the woman's brash move of grabbing his hand and taking the money from it. The brazen aggression of the gesture and what it implied burned icily under his skin. He wanted to retaliate, but quick contemplation of the horrors that awaited him if he struck a priestess soon put him in a more sober frame of mind. Siku might forgive such a slight - if it were the right priestess - but the Dhani never would. As much as the thought rankled him, within these walls, Lazula was more valuable than he.

Not roughly, he rolled his wrist clockwise, pressuring the grasp of her thumb and forefinger until his wrist slipped free. He completed the roll and gently laid his hand on top of hers, gaining some degree of satisfaction when she yanked it away.

He slowly unwound his lower body from hers where they had become entangled, but he made certain not to miss an opportunity to slide his body over her skin if it presented itself. However trying the circumstances of their hierarchy, and however mystifying her streak of compassion was to the weak, the woman was beautiful as the priestess caste often was. He noted the full lips and envisioned the uses such lips might be put to when they were not berating him.

Alas, he tasted her anger in the air and knew she probably would not be coming around his door for breeding anytime in the near future. One had to take what one could get.

"I ssshall," he breathed out in response to her command. "Dussk, then. For Sssiku'ss sssake."

In the cool light of considering his goddess and the inevitability of his position, Sthargon's good spirits returned. He did love to hunt, after all. He would find something massive, chase it down, grapple with it, break its legs, and return with the largest, fiercest sacrificial animal that Zinrah had seen for months. It would be the best communication to send to the cultists who doubted his piety, or the males who would be his rivals, or the females looking for someone to share their bed. The community needed Sthargon, but he could only purchase their tolerance with the coin of effectiveness.

"Thank you," he added spontaneously, his face breaking into a mischievous grin. The taught anger on Lazula's face thawed a bit into a sort of scornful apprehension. It was enough.

The flat stones rasped under his body as he contracted his muscles to move more linearly to the door than the loping range he had adopted, earlier.

[Lirilazula]

In kneeling to offer prayers after lessons, Lazula had intended to quiet her mind and begin the long process of preparing herself for the night's ritual. Instead, she had encountered the unexpected, and now her thoughts were seething and her skin was crawling.

Thank you? As she watched the gleam of Sthargon's scales glint out into the dark tunnel, she rolled his words over in her head. Was he smug? Mocking? She still felt the heat of her anger, electric in the air around her. Whatever it was, he vexed her, and she hated to be vexed.

She also hated to be caught off guard. And the heat that had flushed through her as he deliberately slid his body against hers was more than just the heat of anger. It shouldn't have surprised her, she mused. Any woman would find him suitable. The way he towered over her; the sheer size of him, and the long lines of muscle that quivered with every movement, all attested to just how capable he was. More than just capable. And she knew his reputation as a warrior. She wouldn't be a woman if she didn't feel some stirring of lust after him, she told herself. But still, it tried her patience.

"Enough," she hissed. There was much to be done before dusk - too much to be puzzling over questions that did not even merit answers. The other priestesses would soon be arriving to begin preparing the chamber and, as the leading priestess for the night's ritual, Lazula had to focus on preparing herself. She placed Sthargon neatly out of her mind.

The tunnels were flickering to life as Lazula wound toward her home cavern. The damp air hummed, charged with anticipation. The hours before a ritual were often this way: the nest coming alive, trembling in eagerness for the taste of sacrifice, bloodshed, breeding.

Lazula glided into the entrance of her cavern, grateful for the dying light of the glowstones. Readying herself for a ritual was a solemn task; one she preferred to do while dimming the more overpowering senses. Sight and sound would all but cease to exist, disorienting her; heightening smell and touch, inciting her to a new state of awareness and cleansing her of ordinary distractions.

The oils she used to bathe herself were considered sacred. Their dark scent clung to her nose, spicy. They polished her scales to gleaming gold and anointed her skin with a sleek glow. Glossed her hair to liquid bronze, so it curled around the delicate chains she pinned there.

And she wove more of the chains around her body: slender, tinkling gold and silver to embellish the womanly silhouette. Not only was a priestess meant to provide sacrifice at a ritual, but also seduction. To inspire bloodlust and lust of a higher kind. To evoke all that was primitive. A ritual was meant to inspire appetite, and by the end, a precipice for the appetite. In Siku's name, the hungry would have their fill; and, in Her name, the superior race would propagate.

Lazula shuddered. Though her mind was quiet amidst these familiar preparations; though she had completed these customs time after time, still her blood rushed. Her breath trembled. She had never led a ritual for the Snake Mother before, and her nerves would not be completely tamed. She had never wanted something so much in her life, and now the night was here.

She gave into sight and took one look in her hand mirror. Painted lips, darkened eyes; the ceremonial makeup was perfect. Nothing was out of place. She lifted her chin, and her eyes gleamed a challenge. Now it is time.

The priestess slipped on her robes, hooded her face in shadow, and left to meet dusk before the shrine.

[Masiraphydeana]

Hidden in one of the small dark alcoves of Siku's Shrine, Phydeana had witnessed the encounter of Lazula and Sthargon. A shiver went down her spine when she realized the privateness of the conversation and everything that went with it and she was relieved when both left to take care of the preparations for the planned ritual without having discovered her there.

Once the shrine was empty again, Phydeana slid from her secret corner and moved herself gracefully towards the altar. Her tongue slipping in and out she slowly and thoroughly investigated the sacred items that were already placed there in preparation for the night.

Finally, a small silver cup caught her attention, and she turned towards it to read the inscription. 'Violence, Venom & ... Before she's finished reading the sound of the door of the Shrine being opened interrupted her. I'm not supposed to be here ran through her mind as the cup fell on the floor. I need to get back into hiding. Estimating the time she had left before the person at the door entered the shrine and the amount of time necessary to get back to the alcove she just left, made her realize she had little options but to hide under the altar she had just been investigating. The cover that was placed over it, should keep her from being seen. While the door opened, a breeze was felt in the Shrine, and Phydeana slipped under the altar, trying not to breath.

[Lirilazula]

Lazula's feet were bare beneath her robes, and made no sound as she crossed the room to the shrine. At some point during her walk from her cavern back to the shrine, her tail had given way to feet, and she was human once more.

While she liked to tell herself she had a tight control on her shapeshifting - and, in fact, I do have incredibly precise control, when I wish to - she often chose not to exercise it. Instead, she allowed herself to shift according to her moods, letting her will and desire fuse together as long as it was prudent.

Simply put, she took pleasure in letting the transformation overcome her. Being overwhelmed was a sensation she had denied herself in most other areas of her life.

And so, she often allowed herself to ease back and forth between human and Dhani forms in the hours before a ritual. Once the ritual was underway, her transformation back to Dhani form never failed to be effective on the eyes and emotions of those gathered, as well as her own.

Now, her robes, as thin as they were, clung to her skin in the warm, damp air, and she looked forward to shedding them once the time came. For now, though, it was important to disguise the adornments and embellishments, as uncomfortable as it might be within the heat of the nest. So, as she worked, she kept her form and face quite hidden.

First, to change the altar linens. Black, for the winter rituals. Behind the altar was a locked chest, where more valuable items were kept in place for rituals. The black, silver embroidered... ah! She drew it out, locked the chest, and swept the current cover from its place on the altar.

"For the love of Sssiku!" Curious, how she slurred only in human form. As a Dhani or a snake, she had always been careful to tame her tongue. But when provoked in human form, she could never control it. And, seeing the small shadow of Phydeana curled beneath the altar, she was certainly provoked.

Sharp eyes of blue lanced through the gloom of her hooded face. "What are you doing here?" she demanded. Though she couldn't make out just who the little snake was, it was certainly small. "Ssshow yourssself!"

[Masiraphydeana]

Phydeana watched Lazula enter the shrine from under the cover. Her graceful pace across the room struck her with jealousy. Lazula was one of those young priestesses who seemed to have a talent for everything. She was not only smart, but also stunning in all three of her forms. No wonder Sthargon showed such interest in her. Phydeana was certain Lazula could wrap every Dhani in the nest around her finger with just one look. If she just hadn't been so nice, it would have been easier to despise her. Phydeana sighed quietly. Lazula had helped Phydeana with her lessons in medicine on numerous occasions, always very patient. But, she was also known for taking the rules and codes surrounding a ritual very seriously. Getting caught here, under the cover could be disastrous for her aspirations of becoming a priestess.

Phydeana's heart stopped when she realized what Lazula was doing. She's going to switch the covers. She tried to make herself as small as possible, but as the cover was taken from the altar she knew there was no escaping the view of Lazula. Phydeana was in some serious trouble.

Sssorry! Phydeana slid from under the altar, and faced Lazula shamefully. I ssswear I didn't mean to.. Phydeana quickly realized that Lazula may not be fully aware of everything she had witnessed earlier. Chances were she would put 2 and 2 together soon, but Phydeana decided to not give up more information than absolutely necessary. Maybe she could still save her skin. I'll jussst get out of your way right now, ssso you can do.. whatever it isss that needsss to be done, she tried, while her tail winded around the cup she had dropped on the floor of the shrine, hoping Lazula wouldn't notice it missing from the objects that had been placed there, ready to be used at the ceremony.