Private Curiosity Killed The Cat

[Mercy]

Grace

Mercy didn't even blink.

Instead her arm went around her waist and yanked her even tighter into her, kissing her back, meeting hunger with hunger of her own. The type of hunger that consumed but would never leave you wondering if you were the sole object of desire. In that moment, nothing else existed, besides what they took from one another.

When Grace drew from her, Mercy made a sound, but then relented.

Still, the Twi'lek would realize draining Mercy from the Force was more difficult than it had any right to be. Whatever Mercy was, the Force was sunk in her flesh, layers stacked on one another, until it had truly formed into the shape of the mountain she was currently kissing.

What should have been a river, was instead a glacier, one that moved slowly. Forcing Grace... to kiss her longer, if she wanted more.

By the time they detached Mercy was grinning down at her.

"Oh, you are a sweet talker, but lucky for you... I like it." As Grace sauntered away, Mercy watched her go, shaking her head in amusement. Oh, if Arris Windrun had hated Vestra Tane for her bad influence on the Empress. Then she'd absolutely loathe Grace. But in a way that was justice, if you asked Mercy.

A few hours later Mercy was leaning against the wall, watching the elevator coming down, after she had summoned it.

She was smoking a cigarette.

She was humming.

It seemed the Empress was in a good enough mood, even if she had to wait for the elevator, like she was a damned civilian.

 

[Grace]

It hadn’t taken long for Grace to find what she was looking for, even on a Coruscant that still bore the scars of war, people partied. They buried their fear and despair with drugs and alcohol, made themselves numb to it beneath a glittering ball while music thumped so loudly you could feel it.

The music was still thumping, the glittering ball still spun, but the club itself was finally still.

Well, almost.

There was a man crawling on his belly through the gore and bodies that littered the floor desperate to escape the humming lethan twi’lek that was dancing alone on a blood soaked floor. He made it three feet before Grace got bored of watching him, her foot landing heavily on his back as she reached down, twisting his head with a sharp snap.

She straightened, admiring the mess she had made. It served no purpose whatsoever, nobody gained anything from it save this: someone would find it, some had escaped when she had begun. The story would spread, growing in absurdity as it moved from one mouth to the next and fear would begin to grow.

They would never know where she might strike next if at all.

When she finally joined Mercy, she was picking flesh and dried blood from beneath her fingernails, there were smears of it everywhere and yet, she still had no weapon to hand. She reached for the cigarette as Mercy lifted it to her lips, plucking it delicately from her grasp and settling against the wall beside her.

She took a long drag, heading tipping back against the wall as she exhaled with a satisfied sigh.

“Tell me about your Empire.”

Mercy

 

[Mercy]

Grace

She felt Grace coming from a mile away and it had nothing to do with her presence in the Force.

It was the smell.

Metallic copper, sharp, bitter. She could practically tastes it on her tongue and by the time the Twi'lek had snatched the cigarette from her, she actually did taste the outline of it.

"My oh my, someone had fun." Mercy purred softly as she watched Grace drag from her cigarette. Once she sighed, Mercy plucked it right back, not even caring about the feint taste of blood on it. "Oh, do you also bite through their throats, if they get too close?" Mercy asked with the cigarette between her teeth, revealing a sharp predatory maw.

She drew the poison into her lungs and exhaled with pleasure while contemplating the question.

"It is a nation forged through conflict and ridden with conflict it remains." Mercy finally said with some thought. "A few at the top, who make the decisions. Everyone else struggling against one another, trying to carve a bigger piece of the pie for themselves." Their eyes met and Mercy smiled without warmth.

"That is what I hoped to create anyway."

Arris had confronted her with the reality- the Sith that had gathered in the Core were waiting for her, for her to point the way, for her desires and ambitions to become clear to them.

They didn't move otherwise.

"There was a Galactic Empire that rested in the Core led by an old man who had proclaimed himself Sith'ari. I declared a Kaggath against him, after he challenged us..." Mercy shrugged. "I won. I took his Empire, I took his titles and now I am Empress of the Core."

She glanced towards Grace.

"Nobody tells you that being the Empress sucks, you know. Never become the Empress, my dear, it is a royal pain in the arse."

 

[Grace]

Grace’s lips curled into a smile and she let out a throaty chuckle at the display of Mercy’s sharp teeth. “If they get too close, yes, but sometimes because I like that little flare of panic.” she turned “You know, the one where their eyes go wide right before they let out a scream.” She let out a hum of delight as a shiver of pleasure ran through her.

Her posture shifted as Mercy spoke, explaining the intricacies of an empire built on conflict. It was as it should be, the strong devouring the weak. Sith were at their greatest when they were forged through conflict. Granted there had to be a modicum of control, someone to keep them in line when an external enemy became apparent and stop them from completely tearing each other apart. But with the right constraints, it could be something beautiful.

The twi’lek turned to rest her shoulder against the wall, fingers trailing down Mercy’s arm as she complained. “Hmm, it does seem like a title someone else should have. Must be the right someone though, someone who cannot be puppeteered, someone who knows their own mind and what they want and will sacrifice whatever they need to get it.”

One hand entwined with Mercy’s as she drew closer, lips tilted in a smirk as her other reached once more for the cigarette.

“Is there anyone else like that in your Empire?”

The question was innocent on the surface, but beneath it? Grace was probing to find out who were the threats and whose skin she needed to get under.

Mercy

 

[Mercy]

Grace

Oh, Mercy knew exactly what she meant.

She thought Grace was cute, if she was being honest.

Endearing even, as she allowed her worst excesses to guide her. It reminded her so much of herself... before responsibility and duty and connections forced her into a role that she would never have chosen for herself in a million years.

“Hmm, it does seem like a title someone else should have. Must be the right someone though, someone who cannot be puppeteered, someone who knows their own mind and what they want and will sacrifice whatever they need to get it.”

She had not assumed Grace to agree so readily however.

It was one thing to claim you didn't want a title. It was another thing to have someone agree with you, that you shouldn't have it. It immediately soured her expression.

Mercy wasn't exactly a closed book as her brows furrowed.

"Oh, yes? What title do you think I ought to wear then?"

So unamused, Mercy didn't even bother to answer her last question.

 

[Grace]

Tags: Mercy
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Grace blinked.

Then she laughed. The indignation in her new friend's voice positively delighting her. She pushed off the wall, moving to stand before the unamused behemoth she pressed close, drawing again from the stolen cigarette she blew the smoke in her face, her free hand walking up Mercy’s chest.

“I see intelligence is not your strong point.” a slender red finger pushed off Mercy’s chest, tapping the end of the woman’s nose.

“I was talking about someone other than me, silly.” Grace took another drag, before returning it back to Mercy’s lips.

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[Mercy]

Grace

She picked the exact wrong thing to say.

Which was an achievement, because it would have been so easy to say the right thing there.

Mercy had shown a lot of patience up until then, but even the largest most patient mountains sometimes ran out. Even as those red fingers tapped her nose and played with the cigarette? Mercy's hand grabbed Grace by the throat and pinned the Twi'lek back against the wall. Murder in her eyes, madness, and Grace would feel it under her skin.

Right where that golden hand squeezed against the veins pulsing blood up to her brain.

The sickness inside of Mercy that infected everything around her... made everything worse.

"Self-preservation isn't one of yours either." Mercy murmured, leaning in there, until their noses brushed against one another. "Tell me... why should I keep being patient with you..."

She plucked the cigarette out and let it fall to the ground.

"What is my benefit for keeping you, pretty Grace?"

 

[Grace]

Tags: Mercy
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Grace’s laughter came out as a strangled gurgle, eyes wide with maniacal joy. Mercy’s anger was delectable and nothing short of pleasurable to see. Her legs, dangling above the floor, lifted to wrap around Mercy’s waist with an iron grip.

Her hands curled around Mercy’s wrist as darkness blurred at the edges of her vison.

<<“Because.”>>

The word drifted to the Empress as sharp fingers drove into the Firreros’s wrist, splitting skin and muscle, tugging tendons in the wrong direction, seeking to pull the wrist apart.

<< “I have an exceptional talent for getting under peoples skin and exposing their weaknesses.”>>

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[Mercy]

Grace

Which was true, because Mercy was experiencing that at present.

But Grace was experiencing one of Mercy's true powers too.

She succeeded in tearing into the Lord's flesh. Skin broke, then flesh, then tendons. But just as quickly as Grace was tearing through them? They re-knitted themselves in short order. She'd see it right before her eyes. And Mercy didn't even make a sound, even though the pain burned through her arm each time.

Her wrist regrew itself too fast for Grace to free herself. She could do a lot of harm, pain even, but... there was an issue with that too.

It was delicious pain and Mercy's eyes burned bright with corrupted amber fire. She enjoyed it.

"You do, yes." Mercy agreed there as she lifted her higher. "But honey... you are not a jester... and I am not a King." Squeezing her throat again, but only along the lines of her veins.

Cutting off the oxygen to her brain slowly without crushing her throat.

"I do not need a fool who pisses me off left and right. If you want to survive in my proximity... you will be wise to find other targets for when you get this urge..."

Then a smile when their eyes met again.

"Sounds reasonable?"

 

[Grace]

Tags: Mercy
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Blood pooled in her hand trailing down her arms as every time Mercy repaired herself, Grace ripped it apart, the pulse in her head as her brain slowly began to starve was maddening. She giggled deliriously, eyes flashing at the amber burn in Mercy’s eyes as her thighs tightening around the titan, sliding up her body.

Mercy was enjoying the pain, so Grace would grant her more. The force cracked, a brief state of static in the air before lighting ruptured into Mercy’s wrist dancing and coiling up her arm, spreading towards her chest.

<< "Exceptionally reasonable.”>>

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