Delila Castillon
"
Oh, I wouldn't kill myself." She said dismissively. "
That's the weak way out. If I ever decide I wish to go before my time, I will pick a fight I know I cannot win and then... see what happens."
Which some people would argue she had been doing over and over and
over again.
As a Sith Apprentice knocking out an Akure Leviathan and breaking her arm. As a Sith Knight challenging the Drengir horde and getting infested by their hivemind. As a Sith Lord challenge the old Emperor and break his Empire, but find herself bored afterwards. Every one act could have been seen as suicidal by the people around her.
Maybe they even thought it had been.
"
All I mean is that I have seen where I will end up. The Field of Blades... you may not have heard of it, if you don't believe in the Force." It was interesting to her that Delila did not fully believe it even now.
But Mercy didn't care enough to belabor the point.
She almost asked the ghost how one could maintain their presence after death. If that was something that could be taught. Mercy immediately dismissed that question however. Tempting, a little, and Mercy did not wish to give the weakness inside of her oxygen. The little voice that sometimes nagged
are we going too hard? Is this too much? Will this be my final day in the Galaxy?
Eventually she'd starve that side of herself, as along as she didn't give it too much ground.
"
What is the point of staying after your death? Can you control anything? Can you have any effect on the world? Or are you forced to simply observe and watch how others live their lives?"