#* from the void.

          there was a common misconception about those from the void & it lay within what the void itself was, or rather what it was believed to be: ‘nothingness’.           it was the nothingness of space, but in reality? there was a lot of energy that buzzed within it’s great depths — it was simply redistributed to one who came from it’s center. those who were born of the void were made up of every variety of energies that the void had swallowed. while yes, noa consisted of ash & dust, a strong energy hummed beneath her skin & through her veins; the void built her from those resources, those energy reserves.           that energy also created the power she wielded.           that energy & the power it created were why she was who she was, they were why she had become the self-proclaimed goddess she liked to state she was.

          seasons were transitional.          & in that, they fascinated noa — how a season could mark the end of something while also marking the very beginning of something else, something new or fresh ( even sometimes something as it dies ). how spring closed out winter, but meant new growth with all the flora & fauna literally springing back to life with a vibrance she loved to mirror. she could smell the changes; she could almost taste them.          in her home world, or ‘home’ existence, the concept of seasons was not really a thing; perhaps that was another reason she found herself so very drawn to the earthen realm. she found beauty in far too many things in this world that was not her own.          there was no way she could determine a favorite season, each had it’s own glory to her.

            she’d been through realm after realm, world after world, & never had one struck her interest like the earthen one.            that was what she called the one that humans hailed from.            being born of the void she understood little in the beginning of her trips there, she remained curious in the shadows. slowly, but surely encroaching on an appearance she felt was a rather decent mimic of their kind. she discovered that she identified as being a she — though her kind held no true gender, humanity offered her something that felt, well, right. immersion was odd; even more-so learning emotions was strange at best. their language made little sense to her initially, but this was coming from a being whose native tongue was incomprehensible to say the least.            one of the first places she’d found herself in was a city named delhi, everything there sparked her eyes alight, she had no will to abandon it’s intrigue. the bright colors the humans wore & the hubbub of the busy streets. the culture was everything & she fell into the markets with the fervor of a young woman with far too much to spend & one too many sales set before her — scarves of every color she could get her hands on, saris of every design she could imagine. she had to explore every inch of india to be satisfied.            she discovered she wanted more facades, treating them as though fashion.            she wanted so much more of humanity, with it’s capacity for beauty & destruction all at once, all so very easily.

     ❝—- the better question is are you pondering what i’m pondering, pinky?❞          it’s a little presumptuous of her to be deeming herself as brain in this scenario, but that was no change of pace for her, though it was hardly that charles lacked in any manner of intelligence compared to her. it was simply that the implied metaphor & character parallels felt rather apropos to the moment in question. with her words there was a spark of mischief in her eyes, a dash of coy in her tone & playful features to match.          as for what she was thinking? well, it was exactly what she imagined he’d hope for:  a desire for their very own hunger games.          the twisted things humanity thought up had always fascinated her, perhaps it was a part of what held her attraction in the earthen realms. her smile grew as she watched them; charles was the closest thing to family she had, as they were born of the same thing — the void.