For The Passionate Only [EA7, The Bitch]

[Durasay Mixo]

"I'm honored that you don't underestimate me, Lady Sith. It might be the best complement I've received in a long time." He smiled, broadly, enjoying her company.

"Making an enemy of a rogue apprentice's former master. Seems like that mastee was a bit paranoid. Paranoia has a way of dulling one's... objectivity. Losing ones perspective. That can't be healthy."

[Moyr Ahaya]

"Oh that master has promised me death and suffering for defying her so she needs to go if I am to prevail." Moyr remarked with a grim smile, taking a swig.

[Durasay Mixo]

"It sounds like you have the one to take out so you can be promoted up, to me." He could hear her smile through her words, perfumed as they were by that twi'lekki accent.

It was an odd conjunction of beauty paired with danger. It didn't help with the feeling of dread that had slowly crept through him aa they had moved deeper into her ship.

"I'm not leaving this moon till Azanak is dead. I don't like unfinished business."

[Moyr Ahaya]

"Taking out a Darth of that power will take an unprecedented effort. But I'm on it." She nodded. "It looks like we have a similar stubborn drive to see to the fall of those who jeopardise what we hold dear." She laughed with her clear voice, undistorted by the shade deepening in the corners of the hall. "Let's drink to that."

[Durasay Mixo]

"Especially with the company, absolutely, Lady Sith." He pushed his empty glass forwards, watching the eye slits of the Mask. His smile was warm, if now having a slightly wicked bent. "To the fall of our enemies?"

[Moyr Ahaya]

"May their fall be a lesson of fear to all our other enemies." The Wraith agreed after the refill and clinking glasses before she dousing her own wicked grin with whiskey.

[Durasay Mixo]

"And a bolstering of morale to our allies." He took the refilled cup, raising it after the clink, tapping it on the table, before shooting it back.

"Impressive stuff, you don't normally see that quality outside of the Core worlds."

[Moyr Ahaya]

"I won't say I am a traditionalist, but Corellian is Corellian." She chuckled as her own glass was put back onto the table.

[Durasay Mixo]

"Why is it the best liquor seems to come from Corellia? And the best ships." He leaned back in his chair, watching the Mask intently. "Your ship, seems Corellian. But quite a few unique modifications, no? Impressive." Talking about ships of the line somehow was soothing, if only to give him time to mull over what she had said. The ideas that were planted that were beginning to take root.

"Did you purchase her like this? Or fix her up yourself?"

[Moyr Ahaya]

"Neither. I gave my Mandalorian friends the freedom in renovating it and making it better." She mused, trailing round the rim of the glass with her finger, clockwise and anticlockwise, changing direction seemingly at random. "The more confusion there is about my origins, identities, agendas and allegiances the better."

[Durasay Mixo]

"Hence the Mask. I can appreciate that philosophy. Puts you on an advantage with every one you meet. Ship this size, I imagine you've got a crew that you trust. Always a good thing to have. I won't pry, out of respect for you and this burgeoning relationship." He smiled, beginning to relax a bit as the alcohol took effect.

"Mandalorians are very good at that, aren't they? I'm very glad to have one I consider a brother, the time we've worked together."

[Moyr Ahaya]

"It's no secret that my co-pilot is a Mando'a. As the identity of the one you treat as a brother is no secret to me. Vizslas have been good friends of mine." She chuckled., leaning back as well. "You may want to check who paid the docking fees for the Tortoise on your arrival."

[Durasay Mixo]

"I suppose that won't give me a hint as to your real identity, would it?" He cocked an eyebrow, tilting his head slightly. He would be lying if he said he didn't want to find out immediately. "That first time we met... you tried to scare me, didn't you? Because I certainly tried to put you in a better mood than you were in." He admitted, leaning forwards on the table, his elbows resting on it.

"Not because I wanted to mind trick you. I just thought it would make working together easier."

[Moyr Ahaya]

She tilted her head slightly, and the lekku slipped accordingly.

"And what do you think now, knowing me better? Was it a right call? Would you try again?"

[Durasay Mixo]

"It was a dangerous idea. Had I pushed too hard, or perhaps gone for a negative emotion, it could have ended badly for me." He spoke plainly, without regret or remorse. His lips curled a bit into a wicked smile. "I'd try it again. If I was in a situation where it would be advantageous to me. Or advantageous to you. I've found that that talent can be used to help ease suffering, or induce relaxation."

He waited to see how the other foot would drop, but he never took his eyes off of her.

[Moyr Ahaya]

Nothing immediately happened. "Then were you successful, you'd compromise me. You should have realised it by now. So perhaps you should feel it."

Then, Durasay felt the sweat claiming his hands, and a sudden wave of heat in his face and from the chest down. The tendrils of curiosity and interest in the Wraith's appeal suddenly swelled into ropes tugging at his mind, opening rifts into the subconscious through which wild desires and fantasies started to pour in, crushing through whatever defences of propriety or decency he harboured, awakening raw lust. Suddenly every smallest detail of her physique, how the tapes were wrapped around her headtails, how her wear amply suggested the shape of her body, became acutely important, sliced into his mind like a hot knife. The subliminal reactions of his physicality quickly followed, reaching painful level of discomfort. All he could see of her face was her chin and her lips, but that was enough to imagine, want, desire, crave... He felt as if his body was on the verge of breaking at the seams if he did nothing. Her smile... was provoking him.

EA7. Playing with Emotions. Force: Influence.: 1eF 1 Dark Side


1+2=3 Dark Pips [Vergence, Mask] - Emotion: Lust

EA7. Playing with Emotions. Opposed Discipline.: 2eA+1eC+1eD 1 success

[Durasay Mixo]

Feeling that pull, was coupled by the speeding of his heartrate. The sensation exploding through his body. Durasay was drawn to her, drawn to this Wraith. His eyes began to wander her form, slowly taking in every single curve and shape. His breathing picked up. All he had was her jawline, her crimson lips, the enticing way her lekku seemed to move. "Is... compromising really so bad?" He stood from the chair, pushing it back. His eyes flicked over her, as he stepped closer to her from the table.

That dark, raw lust overtaking him. "Lady Sith..." The next movement was bold, a hand moving for her neck, the other just below the base of her lekku. His own blue lips seeking out her crimson ones. He couldn't think straight, he didn't want to think straight. All he wanted were her lips, her curves, her body.

He wanted... her!

[Moyr Ahaya]

And all he got was a kiss.

She had risen concurrently, and lifted her mask just a little more. She had mirrored his gesture of slipping her fingers around his neck, and he had felt the following squeeze and a touch of cold metal right near his carotid artery. But whatever it was, it did not do anything as their lips connected. Perhaps his passion proved contagious and weakened her resolve... making her dig nails into his neck...

EA7. Palm Stunner. Skulduggery.: 2eP+1eA+2eD 1 failure, 3 advantage


If so, then just for a short while, for the next thing he felt was the cold metal of something else against his lower stomach.

"I could end you now, Durasay." What began as a purr ended on a sharp cold note that broke whatever spell he had been bound by, amounting to a brutal landing.

[Durasay Mixo]

Please... Keep the mask on... Eyes closed as the kiss was deepened, returned. The sensation of her nails digging into his neck causing him to squeeze his hand at her neck tight. Ignoring that feeling on his neck of metal, a ring? No matter. The kiss was passionate, cruel in it's intentions and teasing of something more. Losing himself in that dark feeling that was burrowing into his soul.

And then it was shattered, his mind free of the cloud and haze. Still, the aftereffects lingered, his breath shallow and his heart still racing. Opening his eyes, he felt that sensation against his stomach. The hilt of her lightsaber.

All she'd have to do is flick it on, and snap-hiss, he'd be dead on her floor. Still, he didn't step back, or recoil in fear. "It would be a pleasant memory before the end, then, Lady Sith." Shaking himself from what had overtaken him. "Point taken. That was... something."

He was pulled into that sense of wanton passion, unbridled lust... and she had him in the palm of her hand. "Lesson learned. Never be compromised."

[Moyr Ahaya]

"It's actually not the right lesson, Durasay." He held him still, and leaned to whisper into his ear. "You would have compromised me if you had doused my anger. It is passion that gives strength, and that lack of it that renders you weak. I showed you how decisive you can be when you feel strongly. You've claimed my lips just like that, something you otherwise wouldn't have done. Your failure was in your clumsiness in acting on your desire. A Sith thrives when impassioned, harnesses the grand motivation and overpowers his enemies with it. You will defeat Azanak not when you'll kill your anger, but when you'll champion it."

She pulled her nails all across his nape as she was stepping away.

[Durasay Mixo]

Her breath, her accent, the way she whispered so close to his ear, sent a tingle down his spine, and back up, to the base of his skull. Yet he focused intently on her words. He was almost powerless as she held him there, which certainly was the point. Feeling those passions, acting on them. It was impulsive. Rash. Dangerous.

He liked it!

"But how will I prevent it from over taking me? To becoming a slave to those passions and that anger?" A sharp inhalation as her nails drew across his flesh. "How do I control it, bend it to my will?"

[Moyr Ahaya]

"The easiest answer is through experience and training, Durasay. You can't master your passions without immersing in them. You won't know your angry self if you stay calm. This is one of the reasons that peace is a lie. Seeking peace of mind is fleeing from a large part of yourself and what you can accomplish to a quiet corner of your awareness that feels safe enough. Except there will always be Azanaks on your way which will draw you out of your hideout, defenseless. That night when I chased Azanak I caught up with him because I moulded my anger into resolve."

She pulled the mask back into its place right after the hilt disappeared under her cloak.

[Durasay Mixo]

What she was saying made an incredible amount of sense. How could he learn to use those emotions for strength if he just pushed it down?

She was right. His anger needed to be channeled, focused on the end result of hunting Azanak down.

Only then would it end.

"Some Apprentice will be very lucky to have you as a Master some day."

[Moyr Ahaya]

"As I enjoy being a few steps ahead, I'll probably select him before I claim my lordship so that he is immediately ready to learn and assist." She approached the table to pick up the glasses and gave him his.

[Durasay Mixo]

He took the glass in his hand, watching her with rapt attention. His eyes fixed on her lekku as she moved to the table, then on her mask.

"He better be a fast learner then. To get a jump ahead on your Sith Academy."