Ask The Witch Boy and the Spider

[Morgan Moonbane]

Morgan's pale green eyes peeked out between his messy black locks and meticulously scanned the other acolytes in the mess hall. A silent disdain was not so quietly painted on his face. He could tell that most of them were judging him - or worse - ignoring him! To them, he was just the dirty Nar-Shaddaan gutter rat who'd managed to drag itself across the Galaxy to join their place of learning. But he'd show them all what he was capable of in time. He didn't exactly know how, but he knew he would.

He broods with his cheek resting on his right fist, his elbow resting on the table. With his other hand, he hovers it over an empty water cup - using the force to lift it up and set it down in a rhmytic motion in tandem with his breathing. He barely even noticed he was doing it. Dealing with these Sith snobs was a necessary evil. As much as he hated to admit it, they were his best bet at accomplishing his goals. The best way for him to get what he wanted. Knowledge and Power. And none of these other Acolytes would come near him because they knew he was going to outshine them all, they knew he was better than them. He didn't need friends, nor did he want them, he was going to do it by himsel-

He hears a chair at his table pull out and slide back in. The shock of it causes his levitating of the cup to abruptly stop. It falls out of the air and onto table and then rolls onto the floor. Somebody was sitting at his table. He maintains his distant and cool demeanor, while he struggles to move his eyes to look at the person who'd sat down. As if he were a child, afraid to look at a scary picture. Finally he manages to drag his gaze across to the new person at his table and he allows an uncomfortable amount of time to pass before he finally speaks, his voice cracking a little.

"hEllo."

 

[Feifi Candorus]

The first thing that Morgan heard from the person he greeted was a small hiss of a helm, the whirring of a prosthetic limb resting its palm on the table, before the girl looked down at him, feifi had been through a lot, being betrayed by her master, loosing a large portion of her body, and having to be carried, it was nothing short of mortifying, but feifi was many things, tenacious was chief among them.

As soon as she returned, and tended her wounds, she had done three things, ate, slept, and trained, poured over her fathers writings, sometimes forgetting the prior of the two..

oh no, she didn't want to kill her old master, no-no-no.. she wants to crush them under her heel, make them squirm.. and only when they had lost everything, could scarcely imagine going on, lost EVERYTHING, then, and only then would Jakarta have HER permission to die, but that sweet, sweet, revenge was going to take time.. and allies..

She sat, listened to his greeting, tsk.. no-no.. that won't do.. the poor lad would get eaten alive in the first week.. perhaps litteraly.. he could not project weakness, nono..

the concordian smelt blood in the water.. fresh blood.. manipulatable blood..

at this point, if one could look at her, one could barely see the concordian heritage that she once was proud of, her skin was pale, with her hair a silky white, her green eyes had slitted pupils, not a single "weakness" that pluaged feifi's mind remained, everything was gone, save for her accent, the one thing she kept when she deigned to speak to him in return.

"Tsk tsk, that will not do boy, again, with confidence, like I am your bitter rival at a socialite party who you have to pretend to like."

She sat down properly, munching into what was likely her one singular meal of the day before she would return to her training, and plotting... And then at last, when she has elevated herself, start making heads roll, then come back for that wannabe dark lord in Coranth.. prove her loyalty to lady tempest, and bring each, and every one of those cowards heads to their throne, along with her masters who dared to side with that.. thing..

 

[Morgan Moonbane]

As soon as his cracked voice had left his lips, he'd wished he could've snatched it out of the air. His cheeks involuntarily flushed from embarassment, and he cleared his throat. Nothing was stuck in it, he just needed to warm up the muscle before he tried to speak again. This was mortifying. His first interaction with another Sith here and he'd already fumbled. He furrowed his brow, determined to do better.

He took a closer look at the woman who'd sat down. She looked odd. Alabaster skin, robotic limbs. And she had a look in her eyes that he'd seen a thousand times on Nar-Shaddaa. She was angry. He sat up a little firmer, his back quietly cracking as he did so and faced the woman directly.

"I pretend to like no one. But very well."

He cleared his throat one more time, sitting up fully now.

"Hello." His voice was firmer this time and his eyes give her a catty up and down.

"Who are you?"

There was something so strange about seeing Sith up close. His memory of that maurauder tossing him around like a ragdoll had burned the immortal image that they were akin to Gods in his head - but the illusion was quickly fading. A lot of them just seemed to be people.

 

[Feifi Candorus]

"Good, now you're worth mere tolerance."

The concordian spoke, her clawed cybernetic hand clicking on the table, two sabers hung low on her belt, a symbol of a recent victory as she gave him the look, that same inhuman glint that one would have looking at a freshly grilled steak, yes, he would do.. for now.. until she could find more reliable eyes.. but first.. to win him over...

@homewrecker

 

[Morgan Moonbane]

Worth tolerating? Morgan's head tilts in disbelief before he looks over his shoulder to ensure that it was definitely him she was talking to. It had been years since anyone had spoken to him like that. His eyes meticulously assessed her appearance, from her outfit to her equipment. A razor-sharp retort formed on his lips.

"And what exactly is it you're over-compensating for?" His vision falls upon the two light sabers, and her weaponized arm. While he was drastically less armed than her (at least in one aspect), he refused to allow himself to be treated like a doormat by anyone he encountered. Besides, she wanted to feel as if she were interacting with a bitter rival. And Morgan could definitely do bitter.

"Is it the missing arm - or has losing it just left you feeling inadequate? Is the second saber filling that void?"

He crossed his legs with a decidedly bitchy expression, his fingers tapping the table mimicing her own. However, unlike hers, his lacked the distinct metallic clink.

 

[Feifi Candorus]

good... play on his ego..

Feifi showed no outward sign of offence at his words, hell, she barely showed any emotion at all, just that simple smirk that remained on her lips..

"oh I know the fresh meat isn't talking to me about over compensation, you're sitting here alone like an edgelord expecting fate to just, drop power in your lap? or maybe you are just unused to seeing someone who has lived and learned about the thrill of the kill, I claimed these sabers as a trophy, and aim to present them and pend for my trail to become a champion, to become a REAL sith.

"To be sith is to project power, to dominate, or be dominated, and as far as I can see, you project neither power nor confidence."

..Blood in the water...

"why is it you have come to the sith? oh who am I kidding, you came here for power."

The concordian would fiddle with a knife, spinning it in her fingers gently.

"of course, power is never free, there's always a price to pay, is there not?... But.. what if I told you there was a way to power that I could offer.. what price would you pay to be the dominator, to cease being.. inadequate?"

@homewrecker

 

[Morgan Moonbane]

Morgan audibly chuckles at her opening statement, crossing his legs over in the opposite direction.

"I'm not sitting here 'like an edgelord' expecting anything to fall into my lap - I'm sitting here eating lunch." He edgily pushes his black locks of infinite darkness out of his eyes, back onto his forehead. "Do you think you've psychoanalyzed me? Of course I want power - I joined the Sith. I hardly joined because I like the little outfits. Save the definitions of what it is to be a Sith for somebody else. To be a Sith is to be willing to do what others aren't. To shake off any and all limitations."

He leans in slightly, pushing his chest forward. His half-lidded eyes seemed to twitch with delight as she continued. Three sentences was all it took to send her on this rant. It had always fascinated him how easy some people were to push towards the edge. But, even if he was aware it was happening - sometimes he himself was susceptible to being pushed.

He tried to stop himself, but - "I am not 'inadequate'." snapped out of his mouth, puncuating her statement. He fortunately managed to stop himself from rising out of his seat. He allowed a silence to cling in the air as he regained his composure, quietly exhaling.

"Oh please, I insist - do sate my curiosity. What secret path to power are you trying to peddle to me? What could you possibly have to offer, that I cannot learn in a classroom here? Is that not what this place is for?" His nose scrunched up. He grew up on Nar-Shaddaa. He could smell a dodgy deals - but he simply had to hear this.

 

[Feifi Candorus]

The Concordan gave almost an inviting chuckle at his outburst.

"oh, but my dear, right now, you are.. or do you wish to take to the training fields and allow me to demonstrate such, because I am more than happy to show you what a.. decently trained sith can do. But that's besides the point, we're talking about how we can help each other.. So i'll cut to the chase boy, What I offer is something that you will not find in any practitioner here, A unique saber form that will put you on a fast track to impressing and mayhaps getting a master, if you live long enough, and all I want is... an informant, and I want you to impress one sith in particular, the sith champion known as Ayomi Jakarta."

"nothing TOO dangerous, in fact, you're getting a good deal I would say, all you need to do is.. get in their good graces, and the form of one of the most brutal sith champions to live and die is yours, one I am the sole heir to."

she casually leans back in her chair.

"Of course, you can risk it without my help, and likely fail, such is up to you, I can always find other eyes, and you can join the other circus freaks and play coliseum, and burn away, or you can be smart..perhaps be more than what you are now."

the knife feifi was spinning now found itself embedded with the table

"in short, I have something that you don't, and won't have, unless you accept."

@homewrecker

 

[Morgan Moonbane]

As the woman made her pitch Morgan's black locks began to slowly cascade back over his face. She wanted him to gain the trust of a Sith, with the intention of spying on and betraying them? He'd just got here and already he was being dragged in to another person's schemes - the Sith and Nar-Shaddaans were viciously similiar it seemed.

He considered her offer carefully, his eyebrow raising as she promised to teach him an allegedly forgotten Lightsaber Form. The Acolyte would be lying if he said he wasn't curious. Admittedly he didn't have much interest in the actual wielding of a Lightsaber but becoming privvy to such rare knowledge, even if only for theoretical purposes, was indeed tempting...

"I have questions." He stated, crossing his legs over again.

"When you say 'one of the most brutal sith champions to live and die' - who are you referring to?" His question was asked in earnest. He wanted to know who she was talking about - he wanted to learn more about them.

"And this Ayomi, lets say that theoretically, I was in - how do you propose I impress them? Do you know of a quick way into their good graces? Shall I buy them flowers?" He chuckled, leaning back in his seat.

 

[Feifi Candorus]

she casually took a final bite of her ration stick, finishing it off, it wasnt hurting as much as before.. but eating and drinking still stung.. likely would for the rest of her life, she would need to get used to it.. she then refocused back onto the boy, resting her cheek on her metal fist, as if this was just a normal conversation to her.

"The individual in question this form belonged to was a man known as Cremek Candorus.. a brilliant, but mad scholar...but he knew his stuff.. revived several old forms and reforged them.. one of the few who could claim true mastery of form 8, trakata.. Of course his desire to remain in two worlds was his undoing, my.. dear father was betrayed by his supposed allies, was captured and executed by the dark lord personally, torn limb from limb, artfully..."

she sighs for a moment.

"I'm surprised you haven't heard the cautionary tale of him, I believe lord tempest wanted the story to go far and wide, of the price of treason. What a sorry waste of potential he was... but he surely is cackling to himself in the void as masters begin to join him there. of course, I have access to his tomes, his vision, his magnum opus, mayhaps if you prove useful ill teach you the other forms he reinvented."


She intentionally let that final sentence hang for a moment, the promise of more, should he suit her aims, upon hearing his question on just how he was supposed to impress Ayomi, feifi pushed her helmet forward, her smirk going from a casual, unreadable one, to a wolfish grin.

"oh, dont you fret, I have just the thing..when I am dubbed champion, I want you to present this helmet to them, state you.. dealt with me.. with the hopes that you will be a better apprentice than I, it should score you some neat points.. I of course will... disappear when you do to solidify the story, and you will find a simply convenient transcribed instruction manual for this form in your dorm, after all, who would question that you took a few.. trophies?"

@homewrecker