| E V E R L I G H T |
| CORUSCANT |
Tag:
Horus Rhyne
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"If the loud Devaronian is your alternative…", she trailed off, almost thoughtfully, with an effortless shrug of slender shoulders…
"Perhaps, remaining here isn't so bad Mr. Rhyne."
Srina
might have left it at that. She had said
all that needed to be said in three words versus the oral novellas that some sentients preferred. The Echani often viewed it as a crutch. If it could not be stated clearly, simply, was it really worth verbalizing? She didn't need to read him the riot act. Rhyne knew that she knew—And that was enough, for the moment. The music beckoned from the dance floor, if it could be called that, but it was better than watching slow-moving shipwrecks sail through the entrance.
The seemingly young woman paused with her back toward the elder man in a suit. Elegance seeped from her, even in stillness, but keen ears let her take in his retort regardless.
It seemed that the Jedi whelp wasn't the only pup with small teeth that needed sharpening.
He would learn, as all did, that she wasn't an appropriate chew toy.
A faint disturbance of air as she adeptly turned around was the only sign Srina gave for a long moment that she didn't intend to keep walking. Silent metallic orbs swept over the apparent near-human with an expression that could only be likened to mild confusion.
"Are you deficient in some way?"
Mr. Rhyne did not appear to be, though, looks could be deceiving.
Realizing that her question wouldn't easily relay the mental gymnastics of her thought process a delicate hand rose in the air to stop him before could, if he would, snap back. Most individuals tended to have exceedingly short fuses when things were not going as planned. If what she had witnessed thus far was any example of it—This man was experiencing at least a few difficulties.
"When it fell—I served with many whom boasted thrice my skill. And yet, I live. They do not. It is not cynicism."
"It is pragmatism. I reject stupidity...And I do not think you are stupid."
The title of Exarch was something that brought back bittersweet memories. She had never wanted the position, but it was a decade-long holding. She was a creature of duty. Of habit. At some point, it had become as synonymous to her as the name she had been born with.
"When the nations remnants have need of me—I answer to many things. Exarch is one. White Witch. Dread Queen…"
She sighed softly. Completely oblivious to the fact that the proprietor had been baiting her. His retort was taken as an inquiry; to which she felt obliged to answer. A truth for a truth.
"I have always preferred Srina…But that is often forgotten."
Unfortunately, it did not seem that she would be. It still struck her as odd that so many seemed to recognize her on sight. Were there no other Echani on this side of the verse? Had the Galatic Alliance banned her people from immigrating to the Core without her knowledge? It was a curious conundrum that kept repeating itself. She was no one, nothing important. She never had been.
So much for blending in.
