Purgatory Awaits

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Anderit had established some manner of control with Mediha's help. He was unsure as to how he felt about that -- pleased with his accomplishment to be sure, but for the help? Difficult. Still, he could not deny that she seemed to soften as the incursion ended. He felt as if he had some manner of stability; whereas in the past the magicks were always chaotic. They did as they willed, and his desires were of little consequence. Now they were his to command, albiet to a nominal degree.

"Not a one," he agreed, though he did take note that she had not answered his question. What had made her this way? Was this a side effect of the spells? Was it simply the result of life among the Nightsisters? It was a question he intended to broach once again later, but not at the moment. It seemed they had achieved some semblance of an alliance fragile as it might be. [member="Mediha"] was a woman of power, however deluded that might be, and she certainly was not hard on the eyes. Perhaps she too would share his desire for me -- perhaps she would come to serve as his other half.

A possibility, perhaps, though it was not a thought he was willing to entertain right now. They had an agreement, a fragile symbiosis. He was not sure he would be able to tolerate her longer than needed right now. Such possibilities would take time and extensive thought. He just needed to make sure no bridges were burned before that.

"I'll learn as you teach me -- though I think I might have things to teach you as well. Have you fought with a weapon? Not the magicks, something more tangible? A blade, or a spear perhaps?"

 

[Mediha]

Mediha was going to loathe every minute of this misguided experiment.

She clenched her teeth against her snap response. She would have to make... allowances for his attitude, in the event that it was just how he was (which was looking to be the case). How has he survived this long? No interaction with the Sisters? Perhaps he meant it as a... peace offering. 'I might have things to teach you as well'. Tch. He clearly didn't know how to talk to people. Or maybe he was seeking out her weaknesses. Her gaze moved back to the lightsaber on the table as she thought. She was not a melee fighter and doubted she ever would be; one had to make some sacrifices in order to excel.

"I focused my talents elsewhere." The desire to put on a display came over her. That would be ill-advised. He got under her skin in a way the other Nightsisters did not; she had never felt the desire to prove her worth to them when they questioned her. She bided her time and took care of them when it was most suitable. This acolyte should be treated no differently.

No matter how irritating.

"I believe your training will take more time than you realize." She pushed off the table and dropped, letting her feet quietly hit the floor. "See how you feel in a week."

[member="Anderit Rinaren"]

 

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Anderit could not hide the thin smile that forced its way across his visage. [member="Mediha"] did not like the idea of him having anything to teach her, it seemed. That was workable. She wanted to be the one in charge, even if it left her with possible weaknesses in the future. It would be folly for Anderit to say he had not opted for such things in the past, but growth and years of experience had him come to understand that even rivals could show you things you had never considered. Of course, they were teacher and student; the master and the apprentice. Gods forbid he ever challenge her authority.

"As you say Lady." He replied in pseudo-reverence. She deserved some respect for her position. It was difficult being born into the Nightsisters, and even more so rising to prominence. Somehow she had gotten away with having the Sith Lord killed, and that meant her peers saw something in her that Anderit did not. Her ambition alone could not be enough to save her from punishment, could it?

He dropped to the floor with a huff. Gazing down at her, he managed to suppress the humorous urge this time. Mediha was just so tiny. Coupled with her sour attitude, it was difficult not to find her laughable. For his sake, he resisted.

"I'm sure we'll come to enjoy one another's company in due time," he cooed, testing the boundaries once again. What joy could there be in being an invaluable asset if you did not test your freedoms now and again? Besides, he was growing to enjoy watching her ignore her displeasure, and it had been quite some time since he'd had the company of a woman. Best to take advantage of it before she killed him.

 

[Mediha]

No tact.

Mediha stared blankly back at him, then gave a small jerk of her chin toward the door. "You may go."

He was pushing every one her buttons with all of his little heart. He was succeeding at it, too, but she was beyond the point of letting him know that. Let him push her. He was the one who had to hope she didn't break. Although he had sounded sincere in his agreement, she was already suspicious that every word out of his mouth was laced with disrespect-- and that was before his inappropriate innuendo. She had used him as a means to an end, and would do it again if she had the opportunity; was he doing the same to her? If it was mutual, were either of them actually using the other?

She needed space now; there was too much interaction for her and, as was the case with interacting with others, all of it was difficult. Lylite and some of the others would laugh themselves sick at her expense if they could see her now. Internally, she let out a breezy sigh.

[member="Anderit Rinaren"]