The Jawa caught the blade, an unseen expression of surprise on his hooded face as he heard his Master’s instructions. He had not expected that, but he would not argue. With a respectful bow as Durtrak left the room, Okokeeza closed his eyes and slipped the Trandoshan knife he'd been given up under his robes. He found the stabbing-wound he had received from his Master during their sparring match, and knew he would get the most pain by inserting the knife here, where his flesh was already burnt away and nerves exposed. He thrust the knife in at an angle so as to avoid vital organs.
He hissed loudly - the pain was intense, it was all he could feel. He loved it and he hated it and he needed it. He twisted the knife, hearing a sickening squelch as his flesh was torn up around it before pulling it out of himself. A dark spot of blood appeared on his robe as he bled out into the cloth. He continued moving the knife around under his robes, making many slices all across his body that stung delightfully. A pool of blood was steadily getting larger at the Jawa’s feet. In his painful stupor, he could vaguely sense the presence of his Master nearby in the temple, somewhere downstairs.
He hissed loudly - the pain was intense, it was all he could feel. He loved it and he hated it and he needed it. He twisted the knife, hearing a sickening squelch as his flesh was torn up around it before pulling it out of himself. A dark spot of blood appeared on his robe as he bled out into the cloth. He continued moving the knife around under his robes, making many slices all across his body that stung delightfully. A pool of blood was steadily getting larger at the Jawa’s feet. In his painful stupor, he could vaguely sense the presence of his Master nearby in the temple, somewhere downstairs.