Private For Freedom!

[Scherezade deWinter]

Curtis Learchin​

Secrets still hidden by the Nightsisters. Scherezade held her tongue before blurting exactly what she thought about that. It hadn't mattered that her mother and grandmother and several aunts had specifically gone to Dahtomir to gain training and experience in the arts of the Witches. She held no regard to them, and had even struck a deal to destroy the planet at some point in the distant future. At the time that she'd done it, she had been certain that the other side would fulfil their side of the deal. They never had, and from what Scherezade knew, the situation across the 'verse had shifted so that they never would, either. For the time being, Dathomir was safe from the Blood Hound.

"Terrorizing Spider Clan," she answered. Not an ounce of shame or embarrassment could be seen on her face, "I've done it a few times since they gave themselves over to the Mandalorians, and then remained silent as they were passed down like a package to the Sith for terms they naturally didn't bother about keeping. Spider Clan are Nightsisters. Bad girls. When bad girls misbehave in the wrong ways, you punish them in ways that they don't like. Namely, taking their silk, and killing their daughters."

The corner of her lips curled into a smile as the droid wheeled back to them and began to load the table up with various meats, and a few small platters of side salads. Scherezade grabbed a steaming bantha wing and dipped it into the hot sauce before putting it in her mouth. A moment later she took it out, the bones gleaming white, and she smiled while keeping her mouth closed and chewing.

There was not a care in the world she'd ever had to give such words. And she never would. Scherezade was a Sith, a Blood Hound, a predator. Her enemies tended to die, even if some of them took too damn long to drop dead.

"Their slaves too," she added after she'd swallowed, "They cared less about that though. Something something men are inferior, bla bla bla."

 

[Curtis Learchin]

The inferiority of men was a theme that ran through nearly every clan on Dathomir, though some had tried to dismantle it. Curtis' own clan, The Children of Talzin, had been one such group. But they had been wiped out, and any chance of equality along with them.

"I can't say I miss that part" Curtis said with a chuckle, "I was lucky to be taken in by a clan that wasn't too sexist". From Scherezade deWinter , he could sense a palpable amount of glee when she spoke of destroying the Spider Clan. It was dark and raw, a welcome reminder of the power that anger could bestow.

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Curtis Learchin​

"Not too sexist is still sexist," Scherezade pointed out as she inhaled another bantha wing. Damn, those were some good wings.

"Why would you want that planet's safety anyway? Unless you massacre everyone on it as well as those not currently there who'll return later, the Dathomiri misandria will never cease. You're going to be more or less just property until that happens, no?"

Her questions were blunt. Perhaps a little bit too blunt. But it was the same thing she had striven to when they had met for the first time. She could smell it on him, that knack to the Force, that gift that could be so useful if honed properly. But, the scent of experience… Had not grown by much that she could detect. Naturally, scenting wasn't a precise science by any measure. And yet, her glowing eyes looked quizzically at him.

"Is the effect of home that strong for you?"