Private By The Pricking Of My Thumbs

[Leven Jeyd]

Tagging: Jonah

​

The world around Leven erupted into chaos as the explosion blasted through her lair. The force of the blast threw her to the ground, disorienting her and enveloping her in a suffocating haze of smoke and debris. As her senses slowly returned, so did the realization: her sanctuary—her personal realm of organized anarchy—was in ruins.

Her rage was immediate and unrestrained. The intensity of her fury was a palpable force, an almost physical presence clawing out of her. Her lair, her meticulous design, lay shattered before her eyes. Her possessions—artifacts, treasures, the very essence of her identity—were scattered in disarray. The once-immaculate surroundings were now a charred mess. The destruction felt like a direct assault on her very soul.

In that moment, Leven's anger consumed her. Jonah, her partner in crime, seemed a distant memory. Her mind was a single-minded whirlwind of rage and vengeance. She was no longer merely a strategist or a schemer; she was an avenging tempest. The intruders—her enemies—had not just invaded her home; they had dared to defile her domain.

As the smoke began to clear, Leven’s eyes narrowed with lethal focus. She moved with a fluid grace, her anger channeled into precise action. Her first instinct was to escape the immediate chaos and gain the upper hand. She swiftly scaled the walls with an ease that was outright unnatural, her form blending into the shadows. Her ascent was nearly silent.

Head hanging in an angle that seemed painful if not impossible, she surveyed the scene below. The intruders were scrambling through the wreckage, their movements erratic as they fired indiscriminately. They were disorganized but dangerous, their presence a crude and unwelcome intrusion. Their chatter and orders were tinged with the arrogance typical of the lowlives of Nar Shaddaa—overconfident, yet reckless.

Leven’s fury was cold and methodical. Her eyes burned with intensity as she watched the intruders’ inept attempts to salvage their raid. Her anger was no longer a chaotic storm but a focused and relentless force. She would not stop until every last one of them lay dead at her feet. Her vengeance would be both swift and surgical.

She pulled herself deeper into the shadows, her anger sharpening her senses. With each intruder she spotted, she moved with deadly precision, her approach silent and unseen. Her targets were chosen not at random but based on their perceived threats and positions. And they were taken out in the blink of an eye before she disappeared again.

Each life she took was not merely a victory but a statement— the cost of trespassing against her. She made sure each and every single one was long in the dying. Leven’s rage was a cold fire, burning away any sense of restraint or mercy. Her lair had been desecrated, and she would see every last intruder pay for their insolence.

As she continued her hunt, her mind remained a dark well of unyielding fury. The intruders were about to learn just how costly their invasion had been. The only certainty in this chaos was that Leven would not rest until the price was paid in full.

Only after her next kill did she remember she had not been alone, when a small tug of the Force made her white gaze begin searching again for Jonah. He had been alive after the blast, that much she knew, but she had lost track of him, too enthralled in her own purpose.

 

[Jonah]

NAR SHADDA

A...Voice?

It was distorted. It was furious. Yet it was familiar. The tone sent an icy chill racing down Jonah's spine. He blinked and where once there was darkness, there was light. The cool air of Leven's hideout bled away immediately, quickly becoming replaced by a blistering dry heat. Jonah recognized this breeze. The smell of salt and dry earth. The way his lips were immediately robbed of moisture. He was...home. He was standing within the palace on Verun. A crimson carpet was before him, leading the way to a duo of obsidian thrones.

And the man staring down at him caused Jonah's blood to boil. "Father." he seethed, reaching for one of his vibroswords. There were no words that needed to be said after this. No understanding that needed to be reached. Jonah ran forward and attempted to claim his sire's life.

O D O J I N Y A​

The word rang out, yet it held no meaning for Jonah. What it did mean for him and his partner-in-crime was a world of pain. Bands of energy roiled angrily from the ground beneath their feet, swiftly encircling and ensnaring them both. As they locked into place, neither soul would be able to move. What's more, suffering would overload their sense. Their connections to the Force would evade them, and the visions which had infected their minds would quickly bleed away.

Leven would see that her sanctuary was indeed whole. She would also see that she had been suspended into the air by the energies. They hailed from the holocron: crackling bands of amber which kept her from moving freely. These same held Jonah in place. And before them, projected by the holocron itself, was a figure draped in obsidian robes. Its face blurred and shifted, bouncing from identity to identity. First, it was Jonah's sire, then it was one of the thugs he had killed tonight. Then, it was the one who marred Leven's back with ink, then it was one of her latest victims. The identities flew, briefly manifesting chapters of their lives.

"So this is the future? How very bleak." said the entity. "Here we have a princeling with a chip on his shoulder, and a lost servant hunting for purpose. What makes you think your are worthy of seeking my power?" The being unleashed a haunting laugh, shaking its head in seeming disappointment. "I've half a mind to end both of your right here - but I'll allow you to plead your case. What makes you worthy to carry on my legacy, hmm?"

"Best answer quickly, before I get bored."

It was then that the bands of energy gave was ever so slightly. The agony vanished, yet the weakness persisted. The entity would have its answer - or its victims.

TAG: Leven Jeyd

 

[Leven Jeyd]

Tagging: Jonah

​

She had just been about to drop on another of her imaginary assailants when the tendrils got to her. Their effect was immediate, and absolute. The force of the energy seemed to pierce through her very essence, its heat intense and unrelenting. Her breath came in ragged gasps as she fought against the restraints, her body straining against the invisible chains.

The sensation was terrifying. Leven had always prided herself on her invulnerability, her ability to manipulate and dominate her environment. Yet now, she was utterly powerless, trapped in a state of sheer, unrelenting agony. The realization of her helplessness struck a deep, primal fear within her—a fear she had never allowed herself to acknowledge. The realization that she might actually die, that she was not the indomitable force she believed herself to be, was almost too much to bear. This couldn't be happening.

It was then that the visions began to wane, and the Jester saw her senses returning. However reality did not offer a much more positive outlook. The holocron's gatekeeper had bested them. She watched its face shift, her eyes then turning to the side to see the man she had been looking for in her delusion. Jonah.

His fate had not been better than hers, and while the presence of the holocron's creator and gatekeeper was mesmerizing - powerlessness would never be something the young woman would learn to face and deal with. But at least - she wasn't dying. The absurdity of the situation struck her next. A deep, deranged laugh erupted from her lips, echoing through the room. It was a laugh tinged with both relief and manic delight—a response to the wonderful realization that she was not yet dead or dying.

A tear fell down her cheek, before the pale gaze of the shapeshifter found itself once more placed on the Gatekeeper. There was a certain...reverence in her eyes. The holocron had tested her resolve in ways she had not anticipated, and she had not emerged victorious. It had made its way deeper into her mind than anyone had ever achieved before. Whatever this legacy was....it was a powerful one.

"Worthiness is a fickle concept." She croaked, each letter a struggle to string together. Being worthy or not looked different to each person, Leven knew this very well. It looked different to her depending on the day, hell, even the minute. But what would always stay unchanged was the hunger behind her eyes, power-famished and absolute. "What will you have us prove? It will be done."

 

[Jonah]

NAR SHADDAA - LEVEN'S HIDEAWAY

His newfound partner laughed, for she had was not yet dead. Nor was she dying. Yet there was no such joy for Jonah. Between the illusion and the Gatekeeper's own...reduction...the man felt a fire in his stomach. He felt a fury which he had not allowed himself to acknowledge - yet it was the very same fire which had motivated him to depart from the Shiraya Expanse in the first place. There, he wanted for nothing. He had it all. He could have lived out his days in the lap of luxury - but it was anathema to him.

Why? Because the shadow eclipsed him.

He did not have a name that mattered in the grand scheme of things. He was not Jonah. Not there he wasn't. What he thought or believed was always dwarfed by the titans who had brought him into this world. Unlike any other dynasty, where a prince waited for the chance to ascend the throne, there was no expiration date on the divine. He knew - for his mother had lived literal eons and his father had mastered death. Jonah would forever be stuck as the son of and never as just himself.

And this being. This ancient bastard invaded his mind, invaded everything and reduced him down to what he hated the most. A mere princeling he was called. Oh and the entity had the nerve to demand that they prove themselves. Jonah set his jaw, preventing a string of unsavory words from escaping. He was furious, but he knew that he was a spider dangling over an open fire. If he was not careful, he would die a mere princeling. No. He had to think. He had to survive. He had to prove that he was more than just the shadow he was born under.

As he contemplated his own response, Leven's voice croaked beside him. She offered to prove their worth to the entity, opening the floor for whatever challenge it decided. This caused a mirthless laugh to fall from the entity. "Smart. Most would have started prattling on about how strong they are and how they'll dominate the stars, boring." The gatekeeper waved his hand, as if to dismiss those notions. "So many have come before you. So many that I've lost count. They all want power and they bluster and boast as if the reasons aren't printed on their foreheads. So I ask them to prove themselves, but bluster and lie they continue."

"So, I'll make this clear - prove to me your worth. Tell me why you want power, in truth. I have seen the truth, you know. I saw it all when I took a stroll through your minds and souls. I know the reason - but I want you admit it for yourselves. Why do you want this power? Answer true and I will consider you worthy."

The challenge caused Jonah to grit his teeth. He cast a glance over at his murderous partner...and sighed. If that is what it took to survive...and to have a chance at proving he was more than the issue of gods, then...

"Alright you bastard," he began, "you want it in black and white? Fine. Where I come from, I am everything and nothing all at the same time. The love I knew. The joy I had. All of it was not because I - Jonah - earned them. It was because my sire and my mother exist. I am not ungrateful for the life I have - but I am more than their shadow. I don't want to love because my father is the Dominus - I want to love because I am worthy of it. I want to succeed by my own hands. I want to live - truly live. And I want to build all on my own. That is why I seek your power, so that I can prove that I am not just a name in a long lineage. I want to prove that I am Jonah and I am worthy of existence. I am worthy of it all."

With thus said, the man shook his head - this wasn't exactly something he wanted to divulge to a Gatekeeper and his newfound partner on the day they first met. But, necessity demanded as it would.

TAG: Leven Jeyd

 

[Leven Jeyd]

Tagging: Jonah

​

Leven listened intently to Jonah's response, the raw honesty in his words striking her as a curious contrast to her own approach - then again the Gatekeeper left them no choice. While she could recognize the depth of his feelings and understand his desire to break free from his origins, she was not particularly moved by emotional revelations, in many ways the Jester was uncapable of such empathy, or so she had felt her whole life. Instead, she found his confession to be a glimpse into the psyche of her new associate—an ally whose motivations were now clear, even if they didn’t resonate with her own sensibilities.

When it was her turn to address the Gatekeeper, Leven's demeanor remained unshaken. She faced the figure with the same unyielding confidence that had carried her through countless trials. Her past, with its dark twists and turns, shaped her sense of self in a manner that made her believe she was destined for greatness, no matter the test.

Drawing herself up with much suffering, and as much as the tendrils would allow her, Leven’s voice took on a tone of authoritative conviction. "You seek truth? Very well, no grandiose claims or empty boasts." She began, her gaze unwavering. "I was born a monster, abandoned by my own mother for the very nature of my existence. Cast out, I was raised in a place where survival demanded adaptation and cunning. Amongst the performers and patrons, I learned that power is not just given—it is seized. And I seized it with an appetite that only a being like me could truly understand."

She paused, letting her words hang in the air before continuing. "I was crafted with a purpose that transcends mere existence." Her choice of words was important. Leven had learnt that her lifeblood had been fabricated. Sithspawn. "I was born into the shadows, but I am not a mere product of them. I do not seek power because I crave it; I seek it because I am designed for it and it for I. My will is absolute, and my right is inherent to my very being."

Leven’s eyes locked onto the Gatekeeper’s, her expression fierce and resolute. "To deny this is to deny the nature of my existence. I do not need to justify my claim to greatness to anyone—my birthright and my actions speak for themselves. It is not a matter of proving myself; it is a matter of embracing what I will become."

With her declaration made, Leven awaited the Gatekeeper’s response, her posture embodying both defiance and confidence. This was a challenge she was ready to meet head-on, just as she had met every other obstacle in her path. The game only ended one way. She would seize what was hers, holocron or not.

 

[Jonah]

At first, the entity said nothing.

And it was at that moment that Jonah thought that, perhaps, this was the end. He believed that he had been rather forthcoming with his words, but he had no idea what was going on in the mind of his newfound partner. They had only just met, so trust wasn't exactly a first instinct. Yet, as the man braced for the worst, Jonah felt mobility return to his joints. The power which kept him suspended in the air and unable to move was waning. But he wasn't completely free just yet. They weren't.

"Good. Truly understanding why you want power will set you apart. The future is so miserably bleak, for there are so many who want power without acknowledging why. If one attains power without looking themselves in the mirror, then that power will not be put to good use. It will not be used to further the cause of the Dark Side. It will not be used to keep our kind as dominant among the stars. No. It will be used as a misguided attempt to plug the hole in their soul. And in doing so, they will wreak havoc upon the foundation we have laid for you."

"We Sith are not meant to cling to the shadows. We are not meant for a seasonal existence where we gather under one banner temporarily, only to retreat at dawn. No. We are meant to be the standard of life across the Galaxy. I will not grant my teachings to those unworthy. But you both...are."

The binds which held them fully extinguished, allowing them to unceremoniously drop to the ground. The entity then repeated the ancient word which had caused their momentary suffering to begin with.

O D O J I N Y A​

There was silence, as if reality was bracing for the return of the bands of power, but there was no movement. Why? Because the entity wanted the duo to hear it, rather than experience it. "I have given you all that I am willing to share, for now. Remember this word, for it is the key to a new world of understanding. Remember how you felt as I explored your minds. Remember that anger. Remember how you felt as you experienced odojinya. Remember that pain. Call those memories to bear when you utter this word and the spell will be yours. Know this, I will not answer you again until you master it. When you have, utter that word before me and I will hear you. But until that day, remember me and my words."

"Remember why you seek power."

And so it was that the Gatekeeper returned to the depths of the holocron. The device returned to its previous state with no fanfare, as if it had not just been responsible for the shock of a lifetime. Picking himself up off the floor, Jonah looked over to Leven, then to the holocron, then back to Leven. "I...Don't suppose you have anything strong down here? I could use a drink right now."

TAG: Leven Jeyd

[/code]

 

[Leven Jeyd]

Tagging: Jonah

​

Leven's face softened into a rare, genuine smile as Jonah's request for a drink arrived at her ear. The intensity of the experience had left its mark, and even she could appreciate the solace of a good drink after such a harrowing ordeal.

"Ah, Jonah, how delightful," she said, her voice light and tinged with amusement. "It seems we both have a taste for a well-earned reprieve. I must admit, the trials of that Gatekeeper were more taxing than I anticipated." The creature rolled her neck and shoulders, then her...arms if that was possible. It seemed as though everything should have popped out of place but didn't. It was her way of very literaly shivering away the painful, uncomfortable feeling this whole thing had left within her.

Leven gestured for Jonah to follow her. With a graceful motion, Leven swept towards a hidden alcove in her lair, revealing a well-stocked bar behind an old, heavy curtain. The room's dim, ambient lighting cast a warm glow over the bottles, accentuating their rich hues and inviting labels. She selected a bottle of aged Corellian whiskey and dusted it off, its amber liquid promising a smooth, intoxicating warmth. "Nothing like a little liquid courage to wash away the remnants of ancient pain and...very cryptic wisdom."

The humor in her voice was matched by the faintest glint of satisfaction in her eyes. "You know, Jonah, it's not often I get to share a drink with someone after they spill their parental issues while getting tortured by a Force ghost....Is this a date?" A toothy grin spread on her lips. No one would be surprised by the Jester, well, jesting. She was clearly aiming to make him feel uncomfrotable, and take his mind off the recent events in the process.

Handing him the glass with a flourish, nursing her own in her hand and looking to see if he approved of her choice. "To be honest, I half expected that old hoot to kill us. I would have been very mad at you."

Her demeanor was now a blend of ease and sharp wit. For a brief moment, the fierce and unyielding Jester seemed to relax, savoring the quiet victory and perhaps even the bond formed through shared struggle with the man. Her hand rose to his, offering a toast.

"And here's to that delightful moment when I realized the Gatekeeper was just another pompous spirit with a flair for drama. We've got the word, the wisdom, and—most importantly—you got me~. I'd say that's a pretty good haul for an evening's work."

 

[Jonah]

A few times this evening, Jonah had seen the woman smile. Mostly, they were unsettling - the kind that hinted at a truth that the Gatekeeper's "trial" made plain. Leven was not a human, not in the traditional sense, so it came as no surprise that her grin could cause an unsettling jolt in lesser men's stomach. But this one? Well, it didn't raise Jonah's hackles in the slightest. Was she being actually friendly?

"You're preaching to the choir there." he said, agreeing with his gracious host when she spoke about the suffering they had just endured. While Leven stretched to ensure everything was in good working order, the man simply moved his neck from one side to the other. A satisfying pop confirmed that he had motion and his first strides confirmed that nothing was out of place. "Nothing like a little liquid courage to wash it all down...you're damn right."

Jonah settled down onto one of the stools of Leven's bar. He smiled for the first time since being levitated, for a thought invaded his mind. This woman had practically everything down here. At this point, if she revealed a hidden starship chamber, Jonah wouldn't have been surprised. And speaking of surprises, the smell of Corellian whiskey entering his nostrils was a welcome one. As he began to relax, Leven's humorous poking made him actually laugh.

"Well, what can I say? If I'm going to take a lady out, I'll make it memorable at least." Of course, he hadn't ever actually done such a thing. But he wasn't about to hand the woman any additional backstory ammunition tonight, the Gatekeeper had done plenty. "And if it is a date, you sure know how to treat a man. Action. Suspense. Great conversation. All bundled up in a pretty - deadly - package." he raised his glass in mock toast to her before taking a light sip. His expression betrayed that it hit the damn spot.

"If he had killed us, I would have let you kill me in the afterlife." Jonah answered, chuckling lightly. But, as Leven aptly put it, the Gatekeeper was yet another soul with a flair for the theatric. And on top of all of the loot they had absconded with, the shiniest of them all was the Sithspawn before him. Jonah raised his glass and clinked it against hers, beaming.

"I'd agree. You've got new trinkets for your collection, a trip to the gilded side of Nar Shaddaa to look forward to, and most importantly, you've got me. I'd say that's a damn good haul." Jonah then punctuated his words with a solid sip of his whiskey.

"So. Are you free for a second date?"

It was then that Jonah grinned like a jester.

TAG: Leven Jeyd

 

[Leven Jeyd]

C H E E R S​

TAG: Jonah

Leven couldn't help but let out an unrestrained laugh at Jonah's quip. It was an oddly refreshing sound, blending amusement and relief. The evening's trials had left their marks, but this moment, this shared victory, was something to savor.

"A second date, you say?" she echoed, her eyes allowing amusement and challenge to dance within them. "Well, Jonah, I must admit, you do have a way with words. And if our first 'date' involved nearly getting ourselves fried by a Sith ghost, I can only imagine what you've got planned for round two."

She took a deep, appreciative sip of her whiskey, she was drinking quite fast - she also needed it. With a mock-serious expression, she leaned closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "However, if you expect me to participate in any more death-defying escapades, you might have to up your game. I've already come to expect a certain level of... excitement in our activities."

Leven leaned back, a sly grin forming on her lips. "Of course I'll accept a second date, my sweet. And I will remind you of this very moment when you begin to question asking me to tag along. No take-backsies."

She raised her glass once more, her tone now a blend of playful challenge and genuine camaraderie. This was to new beginnings, old pretentious spirits, and the unexpected joy of finding a companion who appreciated her flair and didn't mind a little chaos here and there. "Cheers!"

With a clink of their glasses, Leven's laughter rang out again, light and melodic. The evening had indeed turned from an ordeal into an unexpected celebration, and a little celebration never hurt anyone.

Especially not her.

​

 

[Jonah]

Leven's laughter was a welcome addition to the whiskey which raced down the man's throat. They had survived quite the evening, it was nice to simply enjoy making it out to the other side. It was...nice to have a friend to enjoy it with.

"I'll make sure up the ante for sure, especially if I am to keep you interested." came his reply, complete with a wink. His tone was equally as amused as the woman beside him. "I figure we can take a long, romantic walk on the beach...as an orphanage burns behind us. Maybe sprinkle in some Jedi headhunters for some extra spice."

As Leven leaned back, sly grin plastered on her face, Jonah leaned in. "If anything, I'll be the one reminding you that you signed up for date number two, thank you very much."

So it was that the Sithspawn raised her glass. It was a symbol of a new beginning for the both of them. There were plenty of untold tragic backstory moments left to discover - but together, they could cope with alcohol, robbery, and slaughter as all functional adults did. Jonah's glass clinked against hers and he uttered an enthusiastic: "Cheers!" in response.

***​

A FEW WEEKS LATER...

The "mission" to New Cov had certainly been an eye-opening experience. Thus far, Jonah had not been formally acquainted with Sith Lords, but the job posting had presented a few valuable opportunities. For one, Jonah and his newfound partner-in-crime had left the domed city of Ilic several hundred thousand credits richer. It wasn't the treasure trove that the man was anticipating, but it was certainly more than they came with. Combined with their earnings for selling off bits of their first score and they were sitting quite pretty.

Pretty enough that making the time to pick out a ship of their own, instead of relying upon the transportation provided by their gracious hosts, was something they needed to actually do. Something they could now do comfortably.

At present, the duo had made their way back to Nar Shaddaa to regroup. When it was daylight hours, they had adopted the habit of skulking inside a rather out-of-the-way cantina that afforded them some measure of privacy. The protocol droid who owned the place was a good enough host. Toss him a few credits and he'll turn on the stealth generator for your booth, hiding you, your party, and your whole conversation from prying eyes and ears. It was within one of these booths that Jonah sat, nursing a shot of some Mandalorian tihaar.

He chose the drink to see what the hype was about. Back home, his old man and his ilk couldn't get enough of the swill. But to Jonah it tasted like hot ass. Ah well, he paid for it.

His gaze, obscured as always by his sunglasses, fell upon the alabaster form of his Sithspawn friend. A datapad laid between them, confirming the total amount of funds they had available. "So, question for you." he began. "Do you want to stay on Nar Shaddaa? Or would you prefer living out of a ship? Or maybe owning a few spots?" Jonah was rattling off ideas for both how to spend their funds but also was making an attempt at learning more about her.

After all, a few drinks and a few bodies did not make the full person.

TAG: Leven Jeyd

 

[Leven Jeyd]

B E G I N N I N G S​

TAG: Jonah

She reached the booth quite a few moments later, reclining with an air of indolent grace against the seating of their secluded booth, her elegant fingers cradling a glass of Corellian spiced wine. She had spent quite some time bickering with the droid to have it served at a temperature that seemed almost preternatural, not because she really cared but because she had made it a game to see how pretentious a request she could make before getting a rise out of it. Still, it had been quite a beautiful choice, its flavour rich and its amber hues catching the light in a way she liked.

Her eyes glittered with a mix of amusement and a hint of mischief, lingering on Jonah as he grimaced at the Mandalorian tihaar, clearly not to his taste. "Wrestling with that notoriously wretched thing, what a surprise~" she quipped, her voice light and teasing. "It's a wonder that your palate is still intact. If only the droid host had a sense of humor, I'd have made him serve it in a rusty canister for added effect. Although the rust mike actually make it easier to down, come think of it."

Leven's gaze shifted to the datapad laid between them, its holographic display casting a soft, eerie glow. She glanced at the figures, her lips curling into a wry smile before turning her attention back to Jonah. "As for your question, while the idea of remaining on Nar Shaddaa has its appeal, it's a tad too mundane for my tastes. It is my birthplace, true, but I've never harbored a deep affection for this cesspool. The neon lights and back-alley schemes have lost their luster, and frankly, they've become a bit of a bore."

She paused, her tone softening with a trace of, probably fake, nostalgia. "For many years, I lived on a planet named Illyria. My main lair is nestled deep within it." For the moment, she left out the tiny details. Like her lair in fact being a massive abandonned mine filled with metals and substances one more deadly than the next. Not a word spoken about her little experiments. "Perhaps one day, we'll venture there together. It would be quite the diversion, I assure you."

Leven's eyes sparkled with anticipation as she took a leisurely sip of her drink, savoring the spiced notes that now danced on her tongue. "But for now, I hear there is a big, wiiiide galaxy out there with our name on it. And as far as I'm aware, you can't survive the vacuum of space, my dear." She leaned forward, elbows on the table, her face getting closer to his and her gaze locked into Jonah's. That wicked smile crept onto her lips, and her tone was decisive if not final. "I want a ship, Jonah."

​

 

[Jonah]

"A rusty container? You'd be paying for my medical bill." came Jonah's quick response. As his partner-in-crime sauntered into the booth, the man's face lit up with a smirk. To say that the woman had grown on the man was an understatement. Between their daring escapades and being "trained" by a Sith ghost, humor seemed to keep them sane. Well, as close to sane as they could be described. Once Leven seated herself and looked at the datapad, she replied to the question of her preference.

And true to the theatrics that Jonah had grown accustomed to, her answer was ever so slightly poetic. She touched on the appeal of the Hutt Moon and shared that it had been her birthplace. That fact alone caused Jonah's eyebrow to raise inquisitively."You were popped out here? That explains so much." he teased, before braving another sip of the tihaar. Okay, she might have been onto something about a rusty cup, at least then he'd know what to expect taste-wise...

Leven's tone changed a bit when she mentioned her main lair. A world called Illyria. Jonah blinked. He had heard that planet mentioned before but he couldn't quite place it. Probably a footnote in his education back in the Expanse. "I mean, if that's the site of your home, then I'm sure we'll go back there at some point." Recalling how precious Leven's possessions were during their initial encounter with the gatekeeper, Jonah couldn't imagine that she'd be content leaving behind her main lair forever.

And given the preference she shared, after quite a bit of fanfare, the man got an idea. "It's true, my fleshy bits do require oxygen," he began, "and a ship would also be my preference. If it makes sense to have a place somewhere hidden as a fallback, I'm not opposed exploring that someday, but a ship is the move for now. We'll have to make sure it's on the bigger side. I want there to be plenty of room to put both of your lairs aboard."

Jonah set down the mug of tihaar and pushed it away with the back of his hand. It was a rare admission of defeat.

"Assuming, of course, that you'd want to have all of your treasured possessions within arm's reach daily?" Once more the man was fishing ever so slightly - though they were certainly friends at this point, Jonah wanted to know more. That, and her answer would definitely impact what sort of ship they went after.

Tag: Leven Jeyd

 

[Leven Jeyd]

B E G I N N I N G S​

TAG: Jonah

"Whereas you being born in grandeur explains nothing at all, my friend," She quipped, toying around with the glass on her hand before falling back into her seat once more. Planning and scheming were things the Jester loved dearly, and this was nothing if not the laying out of her very future. She payed attention to Jonah's words, her smile widening.

"We will need to, I gather - those vibroswords of yours are in dire need of a... replacement." A hint of a grimace set on her face when she mentioned them. Leven had taken notice of his weapons of choice the second she had laid eyes on him. There was no way in hell she would get caught allowing someone she was to call partner swinging around the most mundane kind of weapon in the galaxy. It just didn't fit her narrative.

"Maybe ~ I am very picky, in every which way, but especially when it comes to choosing places where to set base." Commitment, in all its forms, was something that eluded her. Her mothers had been the only exception, and then again she had taken her sweet time warming up to Xobos and Cali. More so the former than the latter. Jonah seemed set out to be quite a rare exception in her books.

Her smile surged forward once again as he mentioned getting a spacious enough vessel. She did love having her needs catered to. "Well this might come as a surprise, but no. I enjoy having my stashes. Not putting all your eggs in the same basket, as they say. But in the interest of being realistic, " For once, at least. "I will probably turn the thing into a stash of its own so yes - it'll need to be big." Plus, the man did not yet know of her weird choices when it came to accomodation. Leven had never had a room in her life, nor would she ever pick one. In Garde Noir, she had been living in the run down attic before finding her mines. A cold cargo bay, vault, or even an armory would be more to her liking as to which section she would haunt - and these were not found in any small ship.

"Will our newfound wealth be enough to get us that?" Leven had never kept tabs on enconomics. She always found a way to get what she wanted, credits or not. Ships, in particular, was something she would trust his judgement on. "And while we're at it, what about the rest of our plans? We've conquered the Gatekeeper's trials, amassed quite a fortune, and are about to embark on a new chapter. Is there a particular destination you're eager to explore? Or perhaps some unfinished business that requires our attention?"

​

 

[Jonah]

"If you can't tell I was born with a silver spoon in my mouth, then I'm doing my job." Were it not for the supremely invasive nature of the Gatekeeper's introduction, this wouldn't be something he so casually mentioned. Yet, Leven was the first soul in the Galaxy to have a rough idea about the life he led prior to branching out. Sure, he was born to wealth, but he didn't use it or rely on it. He had two hands. The Galaxy was vast. And Jonah was happy to make his own fortune. The journey was made all the more sweeter by having someone quick-witted along for the ride.

Of course, that quick-wit could also turn into a lash at the drop of a credit. Upon mentioning a potential visit to the world called Illyria, Leven pointed to a point of pride in Jonah's arsenal. He hadn't had a lick of trouble out of his vibroswords since he purchased them, but apparently they weren't fitting the bill. "Well excuuse me," he said, chuckling aloud. "these blades have done a damn good job of keeping me alive so far. 'Sides, if I was going swap them with anything, figured it'd be a lightsaber or two at some point. Can't go wrong with a blade that cuts anything."

Jonah leaned back in his seat as the smile wormed its way back onto Leven's face. He had considered that their vessel would need to be large enough to hold the troves that she called lairs. However, surprisingly, Leven turned him down. She preferred to have stashes abroad...and of course, the new ship would inevitably turn into a stash all its own. Jonah reached out for the datapad while she rattled off her additional questions about how much they could afford and their own plans for the immediate future. What comes next after robbing a bank in the middle of a tragedy?

The man quietly tapped upon the screen before setting it back down. The device projected a clean hologram of three distinct vessels. "Took the liberty of shopping around to see what's viable with our funds. Option A, Option B, and Option C all fit the criteria you've mentioned today and previously. They also have enough teeth and security features to meet my standards. I'm fine with any of these, so I'll leave the final choice up to you. Which is tickling your fancy more?"

Jonah would pause for a moment, ruminating over the question of what's next. "I'd like to explore Sith space for awhile. Maybe get some contract work under our belts for them. I don't have any burning desire to bend the knee or anything, but I want to know more about them. Specifically, how folk like the Gatekeeper and Nefaron think." He then motioned towards her. "I figure it'd be a good journey as well since, frankly, most of the bigger nations don't like folk like us. Nar Shaddaa is a rare haven if the Galactic news is to be believed."

"But enough about my goals. What of you? Is there anything you're itching to do?"

Tag: Leven Jeyd

 

[Leven Jeyd]

B E G I N N I N G S​

TAG: Jonah

Leven’s eyes glimmered with anticipation as she watched Jonah’s reaction to her questions. Without warning, she slid beneath the table, her shapeshifting form curling and twisting in ways that defied the laws of physics, evident even if she remained hidden from view. A second later, she emerged on Jonah’s side of the booth, her presence a blend of grace and uncanny flexibility. Settling in close beside him, she placed a hand on the datapad, her fingers brushing over the holographic projections of the ships.

“Well, well, Jonah,” she said, her voice taking on a playful edge, “since you’re so kind to let me make the final choice, I suppose I should indulge you.” She leaned closer to the datapad, examining the three options with a critical eye. “Option B it is. It seems to strike the right balance. It will do nicely.” That ship looked like it'd have a nice cargo bay.

Her eyes flicked up from the datapad to Jonah, her expression thoughtful as he outlined his own proposal. The notion of exploring Sith space intrigued her. Though she had always studied and adhered to Sith principles, her aversion to rigid authority had kept her from fully joining their ranks. Still, the prospect of learning from the source was enticing. She tilted her head slightly, considering her response.

“You know, Jonah,” she began, her tone contemplative, “I’ve danced around their doctrines for a long time myself - I was raised by Sith. I want that knowledge, but the leash is what’s always kept me at arm’s length. I prefer to carve my own path rather than conform to someone else’s vision. However, exploring the very heart of it? That’s something I’m jumping in on.”

She paused, letting her words hang in the air before shifting gears with a quip. “As for what I’m itching to do... Well, aside from getting you those new blades, of course,” she said with a teasing smile, “I’ve got schemes to weave - and a factory to get up and running. Getting some more coin and testing new waters comes first, though.”

Leven’s gaze lingered on Jonah, her eyes sparkling with mischief and intrigue. “Now, with the ship decision settled and our next destination in mind, shall we go knocking on dark doors?” Her grin seemed to keep growing longer and longer over her pale cheeks.

​

 

[Jonah]

Leven had seen Jonah in an uncompromising position when the Sith Gatekeeper held them bound. Now she would see him stammer when her form slipped beneath the table. He didn't anticipate it and felt her form brush past his legs, shifting as she did. The Jester emerged, settling in close to him, and the man placed his face into his palms. "Woman you've gotta chill." he said, shaking his head. A light chuckle was muffled by his fingers as she reached across the table and viewed the options.

He cleared his throat and nodded when she chose the second option. Then, in order to distract from how flustered her decision to dive under the table had made him, Jonah recounted the details of the ship. The vessel was a refurbished Mandalorian prison transport. According to the details he read, it once was much larger but an ancient conflict saw it broken in twain. The seller picked it up, rebuilt it, and now offered it for sale after a decade of piracy. It had plenty of rooms, came with droids to handle crew duties, and even could accommodate a couple smaller ground vehicles.

When he had finished saying as much, they started chatting about the future. Jonah shared his own desire to explore Sith space so that he could learn more about the culture. Leven's own perspective was that the doctrines always came with a ball and chain. But exploring what the Empire had to offer, without bending the knee? They were on the same page in that regard. "I've no ambitions about kneeling before anyone, or conforming to their vision. As long as you're with me, that won't happen to you either. I don't imagine the Sith will just roll out the red carpet for a pair who don't want to serve. If it comes to blows, I've got you."

Having expressed his own budding feeling of loyalty to the woman, he continued. "You really have it in for my blades!" His dominant hand reached for the datapad and he tapped upon the screen once more. The projection shifted, displaying the Galaxy map including the current national borders. "I think there's an opportunity for momentum in the direction of that factory, actually. Been hearing whispers about a Twi'lek-owned mining company lately. Definitely a shell for some drug running if you ask me - why don't we swing by and change the management?"

He pointed to Ryloth, a world that was in the neighborhood and technically on the way to the Sith borders. "From there, I suggest Utapau. All goes well with adding a mining company to our treasure trove and suddenly we have legitimate business to do on that world. That's our ticket in."

Before setting the datapad down, he briefly changed tabs and tapped a quick message. Option B would be theirs and waiting for pickup at the local starport. With that, the stars were finally theirs to explore.

Tag: Leven Jeyd

 

[Leven Jeyd]

B E G I N N I N G S​

TAG: Jonah

Leven's grin widened as Jonah's flustered reaction played out before her. The way he buried his face in his hands, the muffled chuckle—it was all too delicious. She leaned in closer, her voice teasing. "Jonah, darling, if you get this flustered every time I slip under a table, we'll have to work on that composure of yours." Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she continued, "I can't have my partner falling apart every time I decide to get a little... creative."

As he described the ship, her focus shifted back to the task at hand. The details of the refurbished Mandalorian transport intrigued her. A vessel with a past, now reborn for their use—it felt poetic. And the mention of droids to handle crew duties was a bonus - oh how she loved the things. She had little interest in commanding a large crew; droids were reliable and far less prone to the whims of sentience. It was a crime how free will and thought had been so carelessly dispensed among the living.

When Jonah mentioned the Twi'lek-owned mining company, Leven's interest piqued. "Changing the management, you say? That sounds like exactly the kind of fun I was looking for." This was something she needed. The resources, the facilities. With the wealth of Garde Noir she had already done wonders for her mines, but it was far from enough. She cast a glance at the galaxy map, her gaze lingering on Ryloth. "Ryloth, then Utapau... A mining company and a Sith world. I like it. Let’s see how far we can push our luck."

A brief pause followed as Jonah confirmed the purchase of the ship, and Leven couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement. The galaxy was vast, filled with possibilities, and now they had the means to exploit it.

XxXx
​

HYPERSPACE. EN COURSE TO RYLOTH.

Time had passed in a blur of activity, and soon enough, they were cruising through hyperspace en route to Ryloth. Leven had quickly made herself at home on their new ship, and true to form, she had chosen the cargo bay as her personal domain. The vast, cavernous space suited her far better than any plush quarters could. Here, surrounded by crates, containers, and the cold hum of machinery, she felt at ease.

The cargo bay had already started to resemble her lair. Odd trinkets and items she had stashed away over the years began to populate the corners, creating an environment that was unmistakably hers. A section of the bay had been cleared to give her space to practice and experiment with the holocron's teachings. Its secrets were slowly unfurling before her, and she had been testing out small applications of the power it offered. Nothing too grand yet—just enough to get a feel for the raw potential that lay within.

Now, as the ship hummed around her, Leven decided it was time to check in with Jonah. They would be arriving soon, and she was eager to see how he was settling in on their new vessel. Leven's mischievous grin deepened as a new idea took shape in her mind. The cargo bay had become her playground, but there was no reason the rest of the ship couldn't serve her whims as well. Jonah had already shown how easily she could unsettle him with her antics, and now, with the time in hyperspace stretching out before them, she decided it was time to push him a little further.

The ventilation system was perfect for her plan. It was tight, confined, and winding—the sort of space where her shapeshifting abilities could shine. With a flicker of concentration, her form began to shift and contort, bones and muscles reshaping themselves as she shrank down, her body elongating to fit the narrow ducts. Her skin rippled, taking on a dark, chameleon-like texture that blended seamlessly with the metal surroundings.

With her new, lithe form, Leven slid into the ventilation system, her movements smooth and silent as she navigated through the twisting passageways. Every twist and turn brought her closer to where she sensed Jonah would be. Her anticipation built with each passing moment, a silent thrill coursing through her as she imagined the look on his face when she made her move.

She could hear the low hum of the ship around her, but beyond that, she listened for the faint sounds of Jonah's presence. Eventually, she heard him—his footsteps, the faint rustle of fabric. He was close now.

Leven slowed her approach, moving with the utmost care to avoid making a sound. The duct she was in ended just above where Jonah stood, and through the grating, she could see him— hopefully, completely unaware of what was coming.

A slow, wicked grin spread across her elongated face as she prepared to make her move. She allowed her form to shift again, her limbs stretching and thinning, her fingers lenghtening impossibly into thin, sharp, claw-like appendages. When she was ready, she pushed open the vent's grating with a soft creak, just enough to catch Jonah's attention.

At the same time, she let one of her elongated digits reach down, clawing at the air just behind Jonah's head.

"Boo," she whispered, her voice a chilling, distorted echo that seemed to come from all around him. The word hung in the air for a moment before she dropped silently from the vent, landing behind Jonah with a soft thud, her form rapidly shifting back to something closer to her usual appearance—though her grin remained, wide and wicked.

"Did I get you?" she asked, her tone laced with barely contained laughter.

​

 

[Jonah]

The Sithspawn's affinity for the Hunt was something of a marvel. On the battlefield, Leven could easily paint a tapestry with the entrails of her foes. Jonah enjoyed that part of the equation, but there was another part that was certainly unsettling. As a Hunter, when she smelled blood in the water, her fangs would sink in hungrily. So it was that, within that booth, Jonah had unwittingly revealed a vulnerability. It was a limping doe in the woods - and she was a ravenous wolf on the prowl.

Needless to say, Leven took it upon herself to help the man "work" on that composure of his.

The assistance would manifest after they finally embarked upon the first leg of their journey. It felt good to finally own a means of transportation. From the outset of his journey, Jonah had to purchase the services of others to get him to his destination. And while he was free to travel anywhere, he was still at the mercy of others. But with this? He was truly free. Free to go wherever his whims took him.

What's more, he had a place that he could call home. The vessel had more room than he knew what to do with - but Leven certainly did. She quickly laid claim to the cargo hold and spent some time bringing it up to her eccentric tastes. Jonah, frankly, loved it and was inspired to do the same. He elected to claim one of the smaller bays as his personal space, in addition to one of the quarters aboard. His quarters was pretty simple - it was used for sleeping, bathing, and not much else.

But the bay? That was used for training. He invested some credits in grabbing some shelves and other knickknacks before their departure, turning the space into a fitting room for honing his body and mind. There were weights, a gravity manipulator, a punching bag, and a training dummy on one side of the room. On the other was a rack for blunted versions of a couple weapons. When Leven decided to sneak into the vents, Jonah was blissfully unaware.

Why? Because his fists were flying into the punching bag at a rapid pace. He had a good rhythm going when a soft creak echoed at his flank. He whipped his head around, blinking, until he felt the talon-like digit touch the back of his head. "What th-" he began, turning around again. Then he saw the...modified form of his partner-in-crime descend from the ceiling, only to revert to something close to her typical appearance.

"You. Lil. Shit." he said, shaking his head. Of course, there would be a swift reprisal for the "grievous" offense, for where the woman landed was conveniently right where the gravity manipulator was pointed. With a whim, he telekinetically activated it whilst her face was alive with laughter. Suddenly, the woman would feel as though her body weight was steadily increasing - all while Jonah adopted a wicked grin of his own. The default setting was for 1.5x the gravity of Nar Shaddaa - nothing dangerous, but certainly a challenge for workout purposes.

"Did I get you?" he said, his tone laced with barely contained laughter.

Tag: Leven Jeyd

 

[Leven Jeyd]

B E G I N N I N G S​

TAG: Jonah

Leven's laughter bubbled up, genuine and unrestrained, as Jonah whipped around, his startled expression giving way to one of disbelief. His immediate reaction—a string of strong words—only fueled her mirth. For a moment, she felt utterly victorious, reveling in the success of her little prank. But the moment was fleeting.

The sudden shift in gravity caught her off guard. One second, she was poised and triumphant, the next, her legs nearly buckled beneath her as the weight of the air itself seemed to double. Leven let out a surprised gasp, her grin faltering as she adjusted to the unexpected increase in pressure.

"Oh, you sneaky little..." Her voice trailed off, a playful growl escaping her throat as she steadied herself. She glanced at Jonah, who stood there, grinning like a smug fiend who had just turned the tables.

Leven's initial surprise quickly gave way to determination. The weight wasn't insurmountable, but it was a challenge—and one she was more than willing to meet. Her form rippled slightly, her muscles shifting and adjusting to better handle the increased gravity. She straightened up, locking eyes with Jonah as she took a deliberate step forward.

She admitted, her tone begrudgingly complimentary. "I suppose I underestimated you. But don't think for a moment that this is over." Leven's grin returned, though this time it was edged with a predatory gleam. She was nothing if not competitive, and Jonah had just sparked the flames of that competitiveness.

With a focused effort, she continued to move toward him, each step more controlled than the last as she adjusted to the weight. Her muscles flexed, her form adapting to the pressure until she was able to stand tall in front of him, as if the increased gravity was nothing more than a minor inconvenience.

She reached out, her still clawed fingers trailing lightly along Jonah's jawline before tapping the tip of his nose. "You're getting better at this," she purred, her voice low and dangerous. "But remember, darling—no one outsmarts me for long." The Jester then relented, letting out a soft, amused sigh.

With a final, lingering glance, she took a step back, the challenge clear in her eyes. She was already plotting her next move. The ship was vast, filled with opportunities for mischief, and now that Jonah had proven he could keep up with her, Leven was more determined than ever to keep things interesting.

"Now, what do you say we get some real work done before we arrive at Ryloth?" she suggested, her tone light, though the promise of future games lingered in the air between them. Slowly she fully regained her usual appearance. "We have a mining company to take over, after all. Best to be well-prepared for the fun ahead."

​

 

[Jonah]

As anticipated, the Jester did not immediately recognize that she was standing inside of his reprisal. However, the mirth which fell from her lips quickly trailed off as the gravity changed. A growl escaped her - yet she did not fall to the floor disgracefully. Rather, she rose to the challenge. Their eyes met and Jonah continued to smile. "I've had the pleasure of being in your proximity for a good while now," he began, offering a mock bow, "it was only natural that I start to acclimate to the pond you threw me in."

Whilst he spoke, Leven continued to advance. She pushed through the weight, a fact which impressed the man. He thought, given how light her form appeared that she might struggle with the pressure weighing down upon her. Yet, other than taking a few moments to adjust, she seemed to be taking it in stride. Her quip about never being outsmarted for long caused the man to shake his head, his amusement unceasing. "I can see why Jesters appeal to you so much now. You're a wild card, meant to keep the game fresh. Well, by all means shuffle and deal a new hand whenever you're ready."

The challenge which she uttered was reciprocated in kind. However, there were much more pressing matters to attend to than a game of cat-and-mouse. There was businesses to take over and credits to pilfer. Thus, Jonah directed a whim back towards the gravity manipulator. As Leven returned to normal, so too would the pressure upon her form. "I couldn't agree more. You'll love what I've found out." he said. "While we were busy getting our ducks in a row to head over, the company diversified. Mining, but dabbling with shares in Druckenwell Shipyards."

Ambition blazed in his eyes when he thought of it. "Starship manufacturing of any kind is a lucrative venture, as is mining. If tended to correctly, we could be sitting on quite the credit-churning conglomerate. Now." He paused for a moment to step over to the datapad that he had set atop one of the shelves. "Our target will be one Vima T'ann. Twi'lek. Red skin. Mid forties. Likes long walks on the beach and dad jokes if her dating profiles are to be believed."

Jonah chuckled at his own joke but quickly continued.

"Given the size of the operation, all we'll need is for her company shares to be transferred to us. I'm sure we can easily convince her to do so. From there, we can figure out just how many hands we'll need to keep things profitable." The man offered her the datapad. "Any questions?" As he moved, the ship's systems blared a specific alarm. There were only a few minutes out from reverting back into realspace.

Tag: Leven Jeyd