Private Wrong Coordinates

[Talohn Atar]

The droid simply scoffs, continuing to work on the strange piece of wood that's now formed in it's hands. Though her next words draw some attention. For the first time in the conversation, it's head turns to look at Zlova with that singular yellow glowing lens. It tilts it's head to the side as if to express curiosity as it holds up the carving. "This is a sith? The carving just came to mind.....I was not...." It pauses to gaze upon the carving. "Aware...." The droid sounds quite concerned. "Hm. Don't like that. I do not like that at all." It then throws the wooden idol across the room. It flies through the air until it bounces off of the ceiling and falls down into a trash can below. Seems the droid is well coordinated.

"Same back home on cathar. We're all taught how to carve up animals and such. It's a survival basic. Though, I'm pretty sure sith use such techniques for more than animals." He says, teasing her slightly. Did he mean her in specific? Of course not. But there are some sadistic sith out there who would use skinning for much more than animals. Though, young cathar were never left to fend for themselves in the wild. There was enough dangers in those jungles for adults. A child couldn't hope to survive.

"Seasoning is funny that way. Most of the recipes you find on the holonet don't say enough in terms of seasoning. You just gotta find your own preference really. Meat is easy that way. Now, baking? Bread? Pastries? Hell. Literal hell. Measurements have to be exact or everything is ruined. It's damn near to being chemistry." He says, fake gagging afterwards.

"Fire roasted is nice in it's own way. Gives the meat a nice smoky flavor. Using different kinds of woods can produce a different flavor result. You can't really do that with a gas stove or oven." He shakes his head. Once she's seasoned them to her liking, he takes the steaks, placing them into the pan with a satisfying sizzle. His nose twitches slightly. "Oh yea, that's a good smell. Now we just let them sit for a bit." He turns about to face Zlova once again, leaning on the counter. He eyes the sith carving sitting in the trash for a moment, but decides to leave that for later. "Haven't really been to any good parties lately. Galaxy seems kinda silent. Well, there was that fancy high life party...." He grumbles, doing jazz hands. "But that was very far from my preferred sort of party. I like my parties less....." He rubs his chin, thinking of a word. "Ah! That's the word. Politically charged." He hated politics.

Zlova Rue

 

[Zlova Rue]

Zlova stared at the droid silently for a moment after it had a nervous breakdown over what it had made. Of course droids didn't have nervous breakdowns, but what else should she call it? A tantrum? "You should program yourself to take a compliment," she said at last before busying herself with the meal preparations once more.

Should they be concerned? Maybe. Maybe not. Since no one was suddenly biting their nails or clutching one another, however, Zlova believed it was a 'maybe not' situation. Hadn't Talohn told her the droid carved or painted Sith in its room? Why would making a mask or idol out of wood be different? Just another way for the alchemical powers to manifest themselves. She wasn't worried... enough to take immediate action.

Once the steaks got started, the Twi'lek listened to her Cathar companion reminisce about the party. "Formal. You don't like Formal parties. Or maybe," she stepped in closer to lay both of her hands atop his clavicles, "you just don't like wearing ties. After all, with the Sith every party is a 'politically charged' party. Upsetting a Sith Lord in a cantina or upsetting them at a formal function all have the same outcomes -- they'll try to make you suffer for their inconvenience. Admittedly, if you're representing an affliation at a formal function then there's a difference." Mostly a matter of scale. An individual suffering might involve their family being killed. An affiliation suffering might result in genocide.

"Because I know it wasn't us dancing that you regret about that party. Though next time, I'd definitely like a less formal gathering. Somewhere with more lively music." Slow dancing was romantic and they could dally with it for a time, but wild abandon was far more fun.

Tag: Talohn Atar

 

[Talohn Atar]

"Compliments? They're a distraction in my opinion. There are much more things to consider in this world, kind words are low on the priority list." The droid states in response, vocalizing a sigh afterward. "I do not like what me carving the visage of a sith lord without knowing it implies. I am going to go consider these thoughts elsewhere." It then stands up, metal footsteps echoing throughout the ship as it makes it's way to it's quarters.

Talohn frowns slightly. "I'll talk to him later. Poking him now would only piss him off." The cathar sighs. Madlad had never carved or made art of a sith before. It was mostly writing down sith language with code in order to export data from it's overloaded mind. The cost of sentience residing within a droid. Carving a sith idol without even knowing it was...different.

He turns about to face her as her arms go about him, those lips forming into a slight grin. "Formal typically isn't my style, no. Nor do I like ties. They remind me of the serpents that would drop from the trees and wrap around to strangle you back home. Eugh..." His nose wrinkles as he shakes his head slightly. "So complicated. I should take you to a catharese party sometime next time I need to stop by home. Mando parties are nice, but cathar parties are my favorite. Copious amounts of booze, fire roasted meat, crazy dances, shanties, a few fights here and there...." He says, eyes alight with pleasant memories of home. Then the light fades as he adds in a whispered tone, "Not to mention...a lack of clothes if a few select people get too drunk."

He pecks her on the cheek and then breaks the embrace to turn around again. He uses a spatula to move the meat around, searing each side. Once he's satisfied, he opens the oven below and places the entire pan inside. It was completely made of metal, so heat melting anything wasn't a worry. With that done, he turns on the oven. No timer though, a real cook knows by instinct! "I'd never regret dancing with you." He winks. "And it sounds like a catharese party is what you're looking for."

Zlova Rue

 

[Zlova Rue]

"Too drunk?" Zlova slid up behind him with her hands sliding about his waist once more. "I'd arrive naked," she whispered quietly in Talohn's ear. She would at that, though it was far more likely she'd be clothed so as not to 'offend' anyone right off the bat. Anyone that went to a party -- a proper party -- looking for a fight didn't know how to live. There was a time to bisect someone, and there was a time to get totally wasted with booze. Every now and again there was a time to do both, but you had to recognize when each was proper.

A little step back allowed the Cathar to relocate the meat from the stove and to the oven. Her golden eyes followed him and may have stolen a peek at his lower half in the process.

"I prefer that style, myself. Since I'm not trying to kill my way to the Throne, I don't see why I should suffer pretending I can't see through the lies and the daggers behind the smiles at 'formal' engagements. Endless banter in the remote chance you'd meet some new face that would capture your attention. So many prefer to remain in their tight groups. Quite boring. But a revelry... food, drink, song, and dance. You didn't need to lie or pretend like you cared what anyone said. All the responsibilities and duties just melt away." Zlova smiled as she shimmied in closer again.

"And what kind of gatherings do Mandalorians hold? They don't dance in full suits of armor do they?"

Tag: Talohn Atar

 

[Talohn Atar]

He leans back on the lethan slightly as she puts her arms around him. "Yeah. Us catharese make some really brutal mead out of the local berries. It actually makes our pupils dilate to the point of being actual circles." That was something she'd never even see Talohn do. His pupils were always those feline narrow slits, though the width would vary depending on the level of darkness. The cathar can't help but chuckle a bit, his lips turned up in a smile as she states her evil plans. "A sound strategy. There's no fancy outfit that would top that. It's the height of fashion."

Once the food is in the oven, he leans on the counter. "A throne sounds cool at first, but stressful. Especially a sith throne. A sith emperor must truly have no friends. Sort of a tragic existence. One after the other killing eachother to ascend the ladder only to find a....well, a lonely place at the top. I mean, I'm all for being powerful, but that power is more about being able to do as I please, not feebly trying to reign in a bunch of people who want me dead. I like where I'm at now. Even if I attained sith emperor powers..." He emphasizes his words with wiggly fingers. "I'd live life the way I am now, perhaps get myself a tad more riches, probably a nice vacation house." He shrugs. It was true, he had that craving to be more powerful, but he was content with his living conditions. Though, the ability to protect those he cared for even more was a welcome thing.

"Yeah, the formal parties are...." He shakes his head. "No one lies at crazy parties, they're too drunk or drugged up to do so." In response to her question about Mandalorians, he shrugs. "Depends on the mandalorian. I myself get out of the armor when I can. Shedding is a pain and a half. I'd rather the inside of my suit not be scratchy and blue."

Zlova Rue

 

[Zlova Rue]

Zlova purred at Talohn describing quite the drink. The Twi'lek loved exceptionally strong brews.

"It's not so lonely," she replied, the smile softened by the solemn nature of the conversation now. "Those that seek such power have little care for whether people like them -- only that they respect them in doing what they're told. It seems lonely, but only because the throne is not meant for you or I." That throne was for the viscous. It was a path Zlova did not wish to walk. It was constraining. An invisible noose tied around your neck that dictated your actions; for even the slightest perception of weakness would have people set upon you. There were better things to do with her time than appease such creatures.

A snort followed Talohn's finger waggling. "You don't need to be Emperor to conjure lightning from your fingertips. I could teach you that trick." Depending on Talohn's aptitude for the Force, anyway.

"Well, that's not quite true, is it." Zlova walked her fingers up the man's chest. "They lie all the time, but they're often far more amusing lies." A tall tale here, an undeserved boast there... drink had a way of freeing a tongue more than a sober person would dare.

"And I do love how often you're not hidden under all that armor." The Twi'lek pressed against the Cathar. One foot stepped around his side that slowly began to rise along the back of his calf muscle. "Now, how long do we have before the meat's done, hmm?"

Talohn Atar

 

[Talohn Atar]

"I mean, don't get me wrong. I wouldn't mind a throne. Just not one like that." He states, chuckling slightly. He was mostly joking. Did he want wealth and fame? Perhaps. But not leadership. Leading was restrictive. He wanted to live by his own expectations, not expectations preset by others. Thrones tended to come with those sorts of things. "Our clans are led by elders. The wisest of us. Though if the majority of the clan is in opposition, they can be overruled. Old folk do go senile after all. Not to mention times change at the drop of a helmet. Their input isn't always the best for every situation. There's not any ploys for power like you'd see in the sith empire though." He shakes his head, a certain sadness in his eyes for a moment. "Isn't like there's anything left to take." Hm, seems there's some tragedy there. It is strange that Talohn has only talked about his tribe, but avoids the subject of what goes on outside it. What's the planet of Cathar actually like?

"From what I've heard, you need to know the pain of force lightning to use it. At least that's how it commonly goes I think?" He raises a brow, arms still about the lethan's waist. "I'll just wait till I get shocked out in the field. It's a better learning experience that way." Talohn did have a certain aptitude for the force. Specifically force speed. Other than enhanced reflexes and prediction, it's the only force power she's seen him use, and it's quite deadly when doubled with the speed that cathar already naturally have.

The cathar nods in agreement. "Indeed, they aren't lies born of a genuine want to deceive. They're more of for...." He rubs his chin in thought. "Entertainment. For fun I suppose, and having fun at a party certainly isn't illegal." He chuckles. "Well, at real parties it's not. Formal parties just make having fun hard."

"I don't think I need to tell you that you look even better without your armor." He responds in kind. He then leans in to press his lips to hers for a few moments. Afterwards, he pulls back, a ponderous expression on his face, a smile following soon after. "I'd say about thirty minutes. Why? Are you scheming something?"

By now, Monari's muttered the phrase, "Ew." Before scurrying off to her room.

Zlova Rue

 

[Zlova Rue]

Zlova reached up to cradle his jaw between her thumb and fore finger. "More than you realize," she responded somberly to Talohn's remark about not having anything left to take. "But that's why you seduce pretty, vicious woman like me to help handle anyone trying to take it." The smile easily returned to her lips as though had happened. Zlova had practiced smiling for some time, after all; it was a mask easily worn on command. Just as the mask of a killer should Talohn need one to defend what his people had left. And they did have much left for someone like her -- or worse -- to take. Things there were no medicines for that could leave a people broken until time claimed the last of their number.

A soft, bubbly hum followed his remark about lightning. With that her fingers slid down to his chest and a very light net of energy stirred the Cathar's fine fur to stand on end beneath the tips of Zlova's digits. "If you ever change your mind, you just have to ask. Other Sith don't understand the concept of limits or boundaries. Best you avoid experiencing being 'shocked' if at all possible." Unlike her, anyone else using the ability against Talohn would be aiming to kill. A fact she knew he understood, but where was the fun in not suggesting he should indulge in a little masochism now?

After a kiss and a Catfish running off, Zlova's smile grew. "Many things. Few of which fit in the space of thirty minutes though." The Lethan leaned in closer to nip at Talohn's earlobe. "And few of them would leave the kitchen sanitary enough to eat in." Not a care in the world remained what if anything Madlad heard. The droid already made its thoughts well known to her; and it was a droid. What did it understand about frivolous pleasures amidst the temporal nature of life?

Talohn Atar

 

[Talohn Atar]

When she cradles his chin in her hand, he leans in to press his forehead to hers, smiling faintly at her comforting words. She was one of the more comforting presences in his life, to be certain. While they may strike fear into most, Talohn is enchanted by those eyes. He reaches up to cup her cheeks with his hands, thumbs brushing her skin. There's a deep sadness in his eyes, the sort that's born from a fear of being the only one left, the lone survivor of a dead people. The next thing he speaks of is something he's been afraid of for a long time, a rapidly mounting fear. "I've...been trying for a long time...To make friends, to gain reputation and glory...and running, partly running." He takes a deep breath, though it's shaky. "My....my people Zlova, the cathar. We're....fading. Those damned beetles, the kiltik. They number in the billions, their hordes are big enough to be seen from orbit. They're omnivorous dreadful creatures, they eat everything, and have turned most of my home into barren desert, save for the few patches of green we guard with our lives. But even then, those will eventually be overcome. There's..." He shakes his head slightly, holding back tears. "There's only about 900,000 cathar left in existence back home. That's all, that's all there is." He leans in more to rest his chin on her shoulder. "I mean...I know I'm not alone. I have you...I have Monari, I have Madlad....the enclave. It's just....I don't want to be the lone number, the remainder. It's...a different kind of loneliness." It's first time baring his fears to her like that, one of his deepest, most heartfelt fears. The one that keeps him awake at night.

It's then that he feels the slightest sting of sparks on his chest. Though the electricity reacts differently since he has fur, and it causes him to chuckle slightly. She had the weirdest way of cheering him up. He pulls back from the embrace to meet her gaze again, a finger wiping the of his left eye. "I can handle handcuffs or the whip, but I don't think I'm meant to take any shockings." He pokes her nose. "My fur gathers static electricity. If I get shocked or have certain materials rubbed on me enough, I could short something out and blow myself up in the process. If you shocked me, you wouldn't be able to touch me for like...an hour without getting shocked yourself, and I know for a fact that you can't keep yourself off of me for that long." He teases.

He can't help but smile widely as well when he spots Monari scurrying off to her room. "Whoops." He states casually, Zlova's words drawing his attention after. "I was afraid of that. You like to take your time. Though, I do as well. Especially when it comes to a certain beautiful lethan." He moves his head a little when she nips at his earlobe, looking slightly amused. "How is it that you make me forget my worries?" Then, having ideas, he raises a brow. "You always have ideas." Deciding to try something new, the cathar, hands still about Zlova's waist, spins them about and forcefully pins Zlova to the nearby wall like she did to him in the workshop earlier. She always strokes a hand or two through his hair, and he wasn't sure how to return the equivalent to that, so he traces a hand down one of her head tails if she allows it, roughly kissing her for a moment or two before releasing it for air. "We could try some of my ideas for a change?"

Zlova Rue

 

[Zlova Rue]

It wasn't often the Cathar showed a weaker side of himself even to Zlova. Part of it might have been a fear she'd think less of him for it; and, yes, a zealot would. The only reason they got along, however, was the Lethan wasn't a zealot. There was an ideal and then there was reality. The ideal Sith that existed in a perfect world designed for that Sith could have them be a total hard ass. In the real world, however, being a total hard ass meant you were alone or inevitably betrayed by someone that wanted your position -- or, in short, a complete waste of time. Even Zlova herself had a 'moment' of weakness after she had nearly been assassinated.

Equally concerning was Talohn expressing a fear his species was being wiped out by bugs. Huh. Actually, the Twi'lek hadn't known that. Big galaxy, no one knew everything happening to every species. But beetles? Sounded like one hell of an insect to have swarms that large. "Talohn," Zlova spoke softly, "you know I believe people need to stand up for themselves. I don't believe in handouts; it only breeds dependence." All things the Cathar knew quite well from almost the day they met. Perhaps that was why he'd never brought this up before. "But I can help you help your people." It wasn't a violation of her beliefs to do that. It was walking a tight rope, and arguably wasn't in line with the philosophy -- if a species was meant to die out then it died out -- but nothing was without an exception. The Cathar were dying out due to ravenous bugs? Kill the bugs then let the Cathar figure out how to survive when the odds weren't dead set against them. Give them a fighting chance. Wasn't like a plague of insects was normal unlike bandits or warmongering governments. "I should do something with all the knowledge and power I've collected."

Wasn't like any other Sith could claim to have never helped anyone. Helping someone could be the proper response.

The lightning seemed to distract Talohn from the dark thoughts that plagued them, and soon enough he noticed Monari escaping the immediate area. A smile followed his compliment about Zlova managing to distract him. Perhaps on some level it was what she had wanted back then... What she thought she had before the betrayal seemed to show that everything was transitory and nothing mattered. A trap the Cathar was in danger of falling into if all he had left was his daughter and a droid. Not that the Twi'lek would ever admit to trying to deliberately be a shoulder to cry on, of course.

No one was around to witness anything so gentle, however. Really that was all that mattered in the end for Sith -- their image.

Suddenly the furry man turned her about to shove her up against the wall then. Zlova's golden eyes fixed on Talohn in the brief moment before he kissed her once more. "Really, now? And what sort of ideas would those be, my surprisingly assertive feline?" Long as Talohn wasn't suggested cuffs and a blindfold, Zlova was open to a great deal. Trust issues still presented a minefield to navigate. They'd manage to avoid stepping on one so far in the relationship.

Tag: Talohn Atar