The Black Swordsman

Current Outfit
Maybe it was the similarity in comparison, the sand in his hand, never irritating, ever welcoming. Perhaps it was the cactus, with its symbolism of endurance. Perhaps it was the fathier, fast and majestic, if sought after by slavers as if they were never much more than beasts.
And maybe he could relate, this Thyrsian. This hybrid. This something-in-between. He was different. Even amid the Sith. He knew it. He wasn’t interested in the politics of his faction. He didn’t care about who was king or queen, Dark Lord or Dark Lady, so long as he could be.
Maybe that is why I cannot unlock it… Drane T’keen mused as he stood outside a casino in the city of Canto Bight. Draped in a black leather jacket, arms over a railing of a walkway, a path on a cliff where over the edge stretched endless liquid, and behind him passed a stream of pedestrians, disinterested in his presence.
The Sea of Catonica was considered to be the galaxy’s largest artificial ocean. It was a painting, really; an artist’s expression, and illusion. Is this holocron any different? He held it in his grip, though it was concealed within a velvet cloth, violet, and could only be sensed by a Force-sensitive.
“Just a mere trinket from a bygone age, I guess…” Drane whispered. After all, Sith tokens like this one ought to be opened relatively easily even by mundanes. So why can’t I open it? He sighed into the wind, a coastal breeze slipping in between his breaths, playing with his hair. Buyer beware? A silly expression. If relevant.