Imperia was stone faced and stoic as Maxine screamed and begged, the very picture of frigidity.
Internally, she was not so calm. This is for her own good ran through the Sith Knight's head ad infinitum, a desperate attempt to excuse the inexcusable. Beyond the guilt, there was also disgust - disgust for Maxine's weakness, of course, and disgust in herself. Not for what she'd done, however - but for the fact that she was troubled by it. For regardless of the atrociousness of her actions, she truly did believe that what she did was for Maxine's own good. Her guilt, that sliver of humanity that still held fast at the fringes of Imperia's mind, was a sign of weakness. A sign that, despite what she told both others and herself, she still adhered to the masses' idea of morality.
That was unacceptable. Imperia was a Sith, heiress to a legacy that could only be described as divine. She was a vessel for the Dark Side, an interpreter of its will. She had no time for petty weakness. And so, steeling her heart, at least for the time being, the Sith Knight went about preparing for Maxine's release. The girl would be upset, quite obviously, and she'd need a place to calm down. To that end, Imperia had a trio of her servants clear out one of the larger rooms in the temple, one large enough for Maxine to wander about in to her heart's content, should she desire to do so.
In the meantime, Imperia meditated.
What she needed to do to Maxine's mind was intense and invasive - the girl would likely be quite insane, something that Imperia couldn't fix. She could, however, render the girl more useful in general; tweak a thought here, a memory there, an emotion here. But to do so, and affect any real change, she needed not to dip into the Dark Side, but to plunge head first into it. To that end, Darth Imperia spent a portion of her time meditating on each of her passions, and the things they brought to mind.
First, there was Rage. The Knight was fire and fury, carefully contained and aching to be released at every moment. The smell of flesh burning beneath her saber, the feeling of bone crushed in her grip.
Then, there was Lust. Imperia was a creature of the flesh, and her excess was one of the few things that calmed her heart. The touch of skin on skin, the sweet, unfiltered joy that followed soon after.
Next, there was Pride. Oh, pride. Imperia was prideful - in her mind, her every subtle motion was graceful, every word sweet and seductive. She was a queen in her mind, one on the slow climb to godhood.
And last, buried deep beneath everything else - there was Love. Platonic and Romantic, for they were two sides to the same coin. It was a passion she didn't often get to nurture anymore, but still it burned. It was small, but it was bright and fierce. The familiar bark of her dearly departed hound, the feeling of a lover's hair draped across her skin, the warmth and comfort of a child in her parents' arms.
Twelve hours had passed.
Imperia's eyes opened to reveal a harsh yellow coloration, and, with a few quiet words, she ordered her Dathomiri servant to retrieve Maxine from her prison.
It was time to begin.
---
[member="Maxine Avril"]
