Maranon
The Flawed Sage
Arriving to Zeltros in: Starscape Class Yacht
Wearing: Queen's Gown (http://starwarsrp.net/topic/143393-queens-gown/
Armed with: Crown of Katanos (http://starwarsrp.net/topic/143384-crown-of-katanos/)
The old woman had labored for days on Ossus to arrange the stones, inscribe the formula correctly at each point in the old underground spring, surrounded by kyber crystals of all colors. The water bubbled in the small pond, flowing into and out of ancient rocks that fed into Tython's rivers above. She was clad in a long, simple green armorweave gown that hugged a frail figure. Her pink, almost purple skin made darker by contrast with the light of the kybers as she took out a knife. Only one step left. She ran the edge of the enchanted knife across her palm, sprinkling the blood into the water. The pond, deeper than she was tall, bubbled and glowed green, now infused with The Calculus.
"Kerimi!"
The old woman stopped, her ice white hair tied in a conservative bun. Her pink eyes, shielded by large black framed glasses with thick lenses to compensate for failing sight, making the eyes seem bigger than they really were, settled on a man she knew well, his weathered voice stern but holding an edge of concern for a cherished friend. He was as old and as wrinkled as she was, his hair having fallen out at the top, a white crown around the back and sides, his green eyes--for she had always liked his green eyes, fixed on her with a growing stare of apprehension. He was in his typical weathered, tattered robes, his lightsaber in hand. Kerimi's saber lay on her belt still.
"Have you come to try and stop me?" Kerimi asked, her once lovely and delicate voice now as weathered and wearied by age as his was.
"I don't want to see you make a terrible mistake, Kerimi. You're a good friend. A great Jedi. You always have been. You have a lot of friends. Friends who don't want to see you do what you're about to do." Joc-Cha-Ninn said pleadingly to his more skilled colleague. "Whatever that fragment of knowledge you have been gifted with the Force is for, it was not meant to be used in this manner. You are abusing Divine Power, Master Avalon. You're violating the will of the Force with what you must know, surely, is an act motivated by selfishness."
Kerimi let him speak, her expression neutral. Finally, the wrinkle faced woman turned, stared at her hands.
"Is it selfishness? Is it? Tell me...what have I to honestly show for all my years of teaching?"
Her hands had once been so soft. They resembled wood bark now.
"I spend my days in the library...studying these old tomes, learning these old secrets, these ancient things the common civilian will likely never have a use for...I learned so much..." she trailed, feeling useless and dry like she had for months.
"I learned so much...so much that even I have no use for. I can do so much...and yet with all I can do, all of which seems to have so little practical use if you actually think about it--I'm supposed to take this knowledge, knowledge which has never truly made me a better person, knowledge that ordinary people don't have a use for...and I was supposed to find a way to help them...and I can't...I haven't..."
"That's not true!" he exclaimed, taking another step closer. "You're a wise diplomat. One of the most learned scholars I personally have ever encountered! There are a hundred, a thousand conflicts that would have ended in an utter bloodbath had you not talked people out of it--"
"Bandages...ointments...nothing truly renewing...nothing truly lasting..." Kerimi replied softly, feeling her age, the green pool beckoning. "They offered me a seat on the Council once. Did you know that?"
"Why did you not accept?" he asked, keeping still, trying not to antagonize her.
"Because its just a bunch of old fools who think they know more than they actually do. People who have never had a full life. Who've never known or yearned for the simple pleasure of a kiss. A bunch of people too in love with the idea that they are the Force's guardians. They'll grow too in love with the idea of deciding the fate of other adepts who don't think the same."
"Kerimi, your life in the Order was full of meaning."
"I spent the best years of my life hunched over, staring at pages, sitting on my butt meditating..." Kerimi said, voice developing a bitter edge so suddenly it. "I never went to the theater...I never put on something just because it made me look good...I never kissed you, when you were young and strong and my hair was still black..."
He frowned, the unspoken thing between them finally deciding, at last, after all these decades, to come to the surface.
"The life of a Jedi is one of commitment to the Force, Kerimi. We both knew this. It saddens me to see that I accepted it far more than you have, it seems. Love is the shadow of greed and passion, Kerimi. It will drag you to the Dark if you let it. We're friends. We grew old. Its the will of the Force, which holds much greater wonders and mysteries when we both finally become one with it."
"But a life is meant for living!" Kerimi snapped back, turning to him. "What reward am I to look forward to? Eternal life as a ghost in the power grid we all draw from? What kind of a reward is that?! Eternal life watching all the young and beautiful normal people who were fortunate in so many more ways than I by never being touched by the Force live and love and be loved and enjoy all the things I denied myself because I was so desperate for enlightenment it never occured to me until I was an old woman that the Force, that the Jedi, may not have been the best place to search? Tell me, what's the reward here? What's the reward for never knowing the love of anyone? Because that doesn't sound like much of a reward to me, Eternal life with no one to share it with except mere colleagues and co-workers."
"Is friendship truly not enough, Master Avalon?" Joc-Cha-Ninn asked sadly.
The old, disillusioned woman, whom dozens of students called their finest teacher, shook her head.
"No...no it's not..." Kerimi said, backing towards the pool. "I spent my whole life without any real personal use for what I learned. And, now, now that I come across the one bit of knowledge that I, finally might have a need for...I won't turn it away...it was revealed to me for a reason. Maybe the Force wants me to know what it's like to be happy, at last...with you..." Kerimi said, holding out her hand.
"Let's share it...let's start over...somewhere else...anywhere else..." Kerimi spoke. "We've given our whole lives to this mysterious thing just for the hope of enlightenment...can't we put off enlightenment and discover what it's like to be happy?"
The old man shook his head at her. "I am a Jedi, Kerimi. I have made my choice. Please step away from the pool you corrupted."
Kerimi shook her head, taking a further step back.
His orange lightsaber blade snaked out.
"Kerimi...please...you're a good person, don't do this!" He pleaded, going into a Shii-Cho guard.
It said a great deal of Kerimi's power that she did not draw her own lightsaber.
"Are you going to kill me?"
"You are on a path that I can't follow...you're throwing away you're entire career..." the old man replied, expression resolute now.
"Joc--"
The old Jedi leapt, orange blade trying to knick her on the side to disable her. Kerimi was fast. She simply backed out of the thrust and allowed herself to fall into the pool, arms outstretched as she hit the enchanted water and disappeared. He cautiously approached the glowing bubbling pool, guarding as he felt Kerimi's spiritual death agonies in the Force as the pond scoured away all humbleness, all charity, all austerity, all restraint, and finally, after all these far more essential things had been marred beyond recognition, leaving what was left to gestate with knowledge that the person who rose out of the pool would find far more useful than Kerimi ever had--all decrepitude...
(Character Theme Song Power Up)
Theme: "The World Is Not Enough" by Garbage
What rose out of the pond was voluptuous beyond words. He was not fooled. He knew Kerimi had died in pain when she fell in. It may have looked as she did in her youth but it could not have been less her if she tried.
A naked, lustful hunger was in sulphur colored eyes, black hair falling in loops and curls all the way down her back, her clothes burned off but still clutching her lightsaber. Her face had that perfect arrangement that artists spend hours trying to chip into stone. A playful smirk crossed her face as she walked towards him, sultry, and curvacious, and with a horrible dark blot all over what had once been a gentle spirit.
"Joc-Cha-Ninn my love..." The unnamed woman said, flowing with Dark power. "Don't you see? It works. We can be young. Be beautiful. Be powerful. Be dark...together..."
Joc-Cha-Ninn guarded with his blade still. "For the sake of my friend Kerimi your death will be quick..."
The woman who had been Kerimi held out her arms, dropping her saber. He blinked, green eyes staring before he drove the saber right through her heart.
The woman skin taut and body muscular, barely reacted as the blade went through her chest. She felt the pain but the woman who had once been Kerimi had long since learned to control her reactions to pain, and this skill benefitted the woman who grabbed the wrist holding the saber to Joc-Cha-Ninn's shock, telekinetically shutting of the blade with a twitch of her fingers.
The Woman softly laid a hand in Joch-Cha-Ninn's face as the wound healed.
"Don't be such a stubborn fool..." the Woman whispered.
Joc-Cha-Ninn looked at her sadly. "I'll never turn to the Dark Side."
The Woman stroked his face lovingly, but he could see the bitter disappointment in sulphur eyes.
"Why?" She whispered back.
"You have misused divine power. And for such petty and loathsome ends at that." The old Jedi replied firmly, preparing himself for the Force.
"I remember when you were strong..." the Woman cooed. "When you could lift me with one arm. Am I not as beautiful as I was then? I remember how we stared at each other without meaning to...I was too scared to admit it back then."
He knew this would mean his end but he said it anyway.
"Don't you understand? You were beautiful...but that was when you were still Kerimi to me."
The Woman's head hung down a moment.
"If I cannot have you..." she said softly, her fingers twitching again, forcing his own arm holding the lightsaber to his throat.
"...then at the very least, I'll not part ways with you completely..."
Another finger twitch forced the lightsaber to activate, then swing through his neck, with her holding it in place while his body fell backward.
The Woman stared at the severed head held by her mind. The eyes fluttered. The lips still moved.
"After I get all the meat off, I'll put you on a nice platter where I can look at you..." the Woman who had been a once respected Jedi Consular said mounfully...
Maranon thought about that first rejection to this day. She dreamt it during her hibernation in her tomb, and it was the last thing that played out in her head as she was murdered by Penelope, the situations having painful similarities to one another.
She sat in an elegant black wooden chair in one corner of the suite like quarters of the starscape class yacht she had Force Persuaded a local Atrisian millionaire into giving away...along with a hefty chunk of his fortune. Not too much. Twenty-five million. Just enough to get comfy when she went all hedonistic.
She stared at the woman sleeping on the Queen sized bed with an aurodium frame and black bed drapes, the room tiled in lapis lazuli from Ryloth, ancient knight armors in the elegant, black marble floored room. Maple Harte was just starting to wake up. Sawa was tied up in heavy durasteel chains painstakingly enchanted by Maranon to suppress the powerful energy vampire's abilities in a room over. She had had the ship equipped droids dress her in the finest silks, having kept her preserved in a stasis chamber while going back to Katanos Seven to get some things. It had saddened her to see it like that. All that dust. Damn the mining. Her tomb palace was in utter shambles, but she had found her royal attire, black, hugging the body and laced with black embroidery of spider web designs.
The other was her crown, for even a former queen must not be without her crown.
Maranon did not have a crown the way most queens do. Hers was very small, in the form of a clawed hand guard for the lightsaber it adorned, an elegant, tastefully made hilt of black and brass, resting on her gown's belt.
Maple stirred, than shot awake, wearing a red Atrisian Kimono, her green eyes blinking for a second in confusion before both eyes locked on Maranon.
"Hello, Gorgeous..."
"You've resurrected fully." Maple said, getting real nervous at the sheer level of dark power she felt. It had been bad when Maranon was a lich. It was ten times worse now that she was back.
"You look even more delicious in person..." Maranon said, rising from the seat. Maple tried not to swoon as that power called to her, like it did in [member="Sawa Ike"]
"What have you done with Sawa?"
"She lives...but enough about the prefect..."
"Prefect?" Maple repeated, getting out of the bed.
"Ancient history..." Maranon answered. "Gods she was sooooo lovestruck with Ni-Ne back then. It made her hot, but in a cutesy way. Good if you want a snack..." the former Queen said strutting towards her with a stare as sultry as her grin was pleasing, circling the green eyed former Jedi, who kept still, feeling the raw pull of the ancient Zeltron.
"...but bad if you want something...more...of course its the opposite problem she has nowadays...nowadays...one taste simply isn't enough is it?" Maranon joked.
"If you think you can brainwash me into falling into your arms--"
"I have never needed to brainwash anyone into my arms..." Maranon proclaimed, staring into Maple's green eyes, open lust and hunger communicated by sulphur eyes. "I don't need to. They always go into my arms. Always. Even Adra Divv, though she liked to be shown power. It was our way of flirting..."
Maranon took a step closer. Maple felt an upswell of lust and the darkness within.
"I have so much to offer..." Maranon whispered coyly.
"Where are we heading?" Maple asked absentminded, fixing on Maranon's lips.
"My birth planet, Zeltros...I have a castle there..."
"Another?" Maple asked.
"You'll like it...wide spaces, the sights..." Maranon breathed, getting closer.
"The sounds...an endless celebration...I never went there, you know, when I was younger...so much passion...it was intoxicating when I did..."
"And what happens once we get there?"
Maranon considered the question.
"Well, hopefully us making out...like, a lot..." the ex-Queen answered lustfully as she drew closer. Maple's heart pounded, her attraction to femme fatales in a frenzy.
"You and I are not so different..." Maranon breathed again, hand slinking to Maple's wrist. "We were promised so much...weren't we? That we would make a difference? That we wouldn't be alone..."
Slender pink fingers entwined with tan ones. The tan fingers clutched tighter without meaning to.
"That we wouldn't be afraid..." Maranon trailed into a whisper, closing the distance.
"Are you going to kill Sawa?" Maple asked, holding Maranon's hungry stare.
Maranon gave it pause. "Well I certainly can't let her off with just a tickle torture after eating most of my spirit, now can I? Hmmm...tell you what...we'll leave an...open question..." Maranon offered coyly. "Until then, she is a prisoner. And you? You're my guest."
"What do you want from me, Maranon?" Maple asked just as quietly.
Maranon chuckled.
"I am rebuilding my power base. I shall rule, elsewhere, but a ruler must have a consort. Imagine it Harte...throngs of subjects as far as the eye can see, worshipping you on their knees, adoring us as we walk the centuries unaging...growing ever more powerful..." Maranon answered, telekinetically pulling the slender bounty hunter towards her with telekinesis with a twitch of her finger.
"In public, I would be the ruler...in private...your slave..." the Sith almost hissed. "You need but give the command, and I would murder whoever, in front of you. Whisper it in my ear and a city burns, their bodies laid on spikes for your delightful eyes to gloat over."
"You think such butchery could make me love you?" Maple asked.
Maranon countered. "If you commanded it and I did it...would it?"
Maple didn't answer.
Maranon tsk-tsked her. "Never ask a question if you are not prepared to ask--or answer--the real question behind the one on your lips...your delicious, yummy looking lips." Maranon cooed.
Maple felt her heart beat faster being so close to her. "If I say no?"
Maranon made a face. "I'd be crestfallen..." she thought, remembering her first love. She obsessed over getting what she wanted in many things but even she knew her reaction had been stunningly immature.
"You didn't really answer me."
"If you only stay out of fear of being killed its not really a relationship. Merely captive to captor. What pleasure could be found in that?" Maranon asked. "I won't compel you to stay. Darth Maranon does not beg. I merely ask you spend a few days with me, to see how much more you could have. For example...you know what I love the most about dresses?" Maranon asked slyly.
Maple developed an inquisitive expression. "What?"
Maranon reached behind her gown and undid to simple clasps. The shadowy garment dropped off a nude frame.
"They can be taken off..." Maranon answered with a smirk.
Maple's self control failed her completely. Completely.
Wearing: Queen's Gown (http://starwarsrp.net/topic/143393-queens-gown/
Armed with: Crown of Katanos (http://starwarsrp.net/topic/143384-crown-of-katanos/)
The old woman had labored for days on Ossus to arrange the stones, inscribe the formula correctly at each point in the old underground spring, surrounded by kyber crystals of all colors. The water bubbled in the small pond, flowing into and out of ancient rocks that fed into Tython's rivers above. She was clad in a long, simple green armorweave gown that hugged a frail figure. Her pink, almost purple skin made darker by contrast with the light of the kybers as she took out a knife. Only one step left. She ran the edge of the enchanted knife across her palm, sprinkling the blood into the water. The pond, deeper than she was tall, bubbled and glowed green, now infused with The Calculus.
"Kerimi!"
The old woman stopped, her ice white hair tied in a conservative bun. Her pink eyes, shielded by large black framed glasses with thick lenses to compensate for failing sight, making the eyes seem bigger than they really were, settled on a man she knew well, his weathered voice stern but holding an edge of concern for a cherished friend. He was as old and as wrinkled as she was, his hair having fallen out at the top, a white crown around the back and sides, his green eyes--for she had always liked his green eyes, fixed on her with a growing stare of apprehension. He was in his typical weathered, tattered robes, his lightsaber in hand. Kerimi's saber lay on her belt still.
"Have you come to try and stop me?" Kerimi asked, her once lovely and delicate voice now as weathered and wearied by age as his was.
"I don't want to see you make a terrible mistake, Kerimi. You're a good friend. A great Jedi. You always have been. You have a lot of friends. Friends who don't want to see you do what you're about to do." Joc-Cha-Ninn said pleadingly to his more skilled colleague. "Whatever that fragment of knowledge you have been gifted with the Force is for, it was not meant to be used in this manner. You are abusing Divine Power, Master Avalon. You're violating the will of the Force with what you must know, surely, is an act motivated by selfishness."
Kerimi let him speak, her expression neutral. Finally, the wrinkle faced woman turned, stared at her hands.
"Is it selfishness? Is it? Tell me...what have I to honestly show for all my years of teaching?"
Her hands had once been so soft. They resembled wood bark now.
"I spend my days in the library...studying these old tomes, learning these old secrets, these ancient things the common civilian will likely never have a use for...I learned so much..." she trailed, feeling useless and dry like she had for months.
"I learned so much...so much that even I have no use for. I can do so much...and yet with all I can do, all of which seems to have so little practical use if you actually think about it--I'm supposed to take this knowledge, knowledge which has never truly made me a better person, knowledge that ordinary people don't have a use for...and I was supposed to find a way to help them...and I can't...I haven't..."
"That's not true!" he exclaimed, taking another step closer. "You're a wise diplomat. One of the most learned scholars I personally have ever encountered! There are a hundred, a thousand conflicts that would have ended in an utter bloodbath had you not talked people out of it--"
"Bandages...ointments...nothing truly renewing...nothing truly lasting..." Kerimi replied softly, feeling her age, the green pool beckoning. "They offered me a seat on the Council once. Did you know that?"
"Why did you not accept?" he asked, keeping still, trying not to antagonize her.
"Because its just a bunch of old fools who think they know more than they actually do. People who have never had a full life. Who've never known or yearned for the simple pleasure of a kiss. A bunch of people too in love with the idea that they are the Force's guardians. They'll grow too in love with the idea of deciding the fate of other adepts who don't think the same."
"Kerimi, your life in the Order was full of meaning."
"I spent the best years of my life hunched over, staring at pages, sitting on my butt meditating..." Kerimi said, voice developing a bitter edge so suddenly it. "I never went to the theater...I never put on something just because it made me look good...I never kissed you, when you were young and strong and my hair was still black..."
He frowned, the unspoken thing between them finally deciding, at last, after all these decades, to come to the surface.
"The life of a Jedi is one of commitment to the Force, Kerimi. We both knew this. It saddens me to see that I accepted it far more than you have, it seems. Love is the shadow of greed and passion, Kerimi. It will drag you to the Dark if you let it. We're friends. We grew old. Its the will of the Force, which holds much greater wonders and mysteries when we both finally become one with it."
"But a life is meant for living!" Kerimi snapped back, turning to him. "What reward am I to look forward to? Eternal life as a ghost in the power grid we all draw from? What kind of a reward is that?! Eternal life watching all the young and beautiful normal people who were fortunate in so many more ways than I by never being touched by the Force live and love and be loved and enjoy all the things I denied myself because I was so desperate for enlightenment it never occured to me until I was an old woman that the Force, that the Jedi, may not have been the best place to search? Tell me, what's the reward here? What's the reward for never knowing the love of anyone? Because that doesn't sound like much of a reward to me, Eternal life with no one to share it with except mere colleagues and co-workers."
"Is friendship truly not enough, Master Avalon?" Joc-Cha-Ninn asked sadly.
The old, disillusioned woman, whom dozens of students called their finest teacher, shook her head.
"No...no it's not..." Kerimi said, backing towards the pool. "I spent my whole life without any real personal use for what I learned. And, now, now that I come across the one bit of knowledge that I, finally might have a need for...I won't turn it away...it was revealed to me for a reason. Maybe the Force wants me to know what it's like to be happy, at last...with you..." Kerimi said, holding out her hand.
"Let's share it...let's start over...somewhere else...anywhere else..." Kerimi spoke. "We've given our whole lives to this mysterious thing just for the hope of enlightenment...can't we put off enlightenment and discover what it's like to be happy?"
The old man shook his head at her. "I am a Jedi, Kerimi. I have made my choice. Please step away from the pool you corrupted."
Kerimi shook her head, taking a further step back.
His orange lightsaber blade snaked out.
"Kerimi...please...you're a good person, don't do this!" He pleaded, going into a Shii-Cho guard.
It said a great deal of Kerimi's power that she did not draw her own lightsaber.
"Are you going to kill me?"
"You are on a path that I can't follow...you're throwing away you're entire career..." the old man replied, expression resolute now.
"Joc--"
The old Jedi leapt, orange blade trying to knick her on the side to disable her. Kerimi was fast. She simply backed out of the thrust and allowed herself to fall into the pool, arms outstretched as she hit the enchanted water and disappeared. He cautiously approached the glowing bubbling pool, guarding as he felt Kerimi's spiritual death agonies in the Force as the pond scoured away all humbleness, all charity, all austerity, all restraint, and finally, after all these far more essential things had been marred beyond recognition, leaving what was left to gestate with knowledge that the person who rose out of the pool would find far more useful than Kerimi ever had--all decrepitude...
(Character Theme Song Power Up)
Theme: "The World Is Not Enough" by Garbage
What rose out of the pond was voluptuous beyond words. He was not fooled. He knew Kerimi had died in pain when she fell in. It may have looked as she did in her youth but it could not have been less her if she tried.
A naked, lustful hunger was in sulphur colored eyes, black hair falling in loops and curls all the way down her back, her clothes burned off but still clutching her lightsaber. Her face had that perfect arrangement that artists spend hours trying to chip into stone. A playful smirk crossed her face as she walked towards him, sultry, and curvacious, and with a horrible dark blot all over what had once been a gentle spirit.
"Joc-Cha-Ninn my love..." The unnamed woman said, flowing with Dark power. "Don't you see? It works. We can be young. Be beautiful. Be powerful. Be dark...together..."
Joc-Cha-Ninn guarded with his blade still. "For the sake of my friend Kerimi your death will be quick..."
The woman who had been Kerimi held out her arms, dropping her saber. He blinked, green eyes staring before he drove the saber right through her heart.
The woman skin taut and body muscular, barely reacted as the blade went through her chest. She felt the pain but the woman who had once been Kerimi had long since learned to control her reactions to pain, and this skill benefitted the woman who grabbed the wrist holding the saber to Joc-Cha-Ninn's shock, telekinetically shutting of the blade with a twitch of her fingers.
The Woman softly laid a hand in Joch-Cha-Ninn's face as the wound healed.
"Don't be such a stubborn fool..." the Woman whispered.
Joc-Cha-Ninn looked at her sadly. "I'll never turn to the Dark Side."
The Woman stroked his face lovingly, but he could see the bitter disappointment in sulphur eyes.
"Why?" She whispered back.
"You have misused divine power. And for such petty and loathsome ends at that." The old Jedi replied firmly, preparing himself for the Force.
"I remember when you were strong..." the Woman cooed. "When you could lift me with one arm. Am I not as beautiful as I was then? I remember how we stared at each other without meaning to...I was too scared to admit it back then."
He knew this would mean his end but he said it anyway.
"Don't you understand? You were beautiful...but that was when you were still Kerimi to me."
The Woman's head hung down a moment.
"If I cannot have you..." she said softly, her fingers twitching again, forcing his own arm holding the lightsaber to his throat.
"...then at the very least, I'll not part ways with you completely..."
Another finger twitch forced the lightsaber to activate, then swing through his neck, with her holding it in place while his body fell backward.
The Woman stared at the severed head held by her mind. The eyes fluttered. The lips still moved.
"After I get all the meat off, I'll put you on a nice platter where I can look at you..." the Woman who had been a once respected Jedi Consular said mounfully...
Maranon thought about that first rejection to this day. She dreamt it during her hibernation in her tomb, and it was the last thing that played out in her head as she was murdered by Penelope, the situations having painful similarities to one another.
She sat in an elegant black wooden chair in one corner of the suite like quarters of the starscape class yacht she had Force Persuaded a local Atrisian millionaire into giving away...along with a hefty chunk of his fortune. Not too much. Twenty-five million. Just enough to get comfy when she went all hedonistic.
She stared at the woman sleeping on the Queen sized bed with an aurodium frame and black bed drapes, the room tiled in lapis lazuli from Ryloth, ancient knight armors in the elegant, black marble floored room. Maple Harte was just starting to wake up. Sawa was tied up in heavy durasteel chains painstakingly enchanted by Maranon to suppress the powerful energy vampire's abilities in a room over. She had had the ship equipped droids dress her in the finest silks, having kept her preserved in a stasis chamber while going back to Katanos Seven to get some things. It had saddened her to see it like that. All that dust. Damn the mining. Her tomb palace was in utter shambles, but she had found her royal attire, black, hugging the body and laced with black embroidery of spider web designs.
The other was her crown, for even a former queen must not be without her crown.
Maranon did not have a crown the way most queens do. Hers was very small, in the form of a clawed hand guard for the lightsaber it adorned, an elegant, tastefully made hilt of black and brass, resting on her gown's belt.
Maple stirred, than shot awake, wearing a red Atrisian Kimono, her green eyes blinking for a second in confusion before both eyes locked on Maranon.
"Hello, Gorgeous..."
"You've resurrected fully." Maple said, getting real nervous at the sheer level of dark power she felt. It had been bad when Maranon was a lich. It was ten times worse now that she was back.
"You look even more delicious in person..." Maranon said, rising from the seat. Maple tried not to swoon as that power called to her, like it did in [member="Sawa Ike"]
"What have you done with Sawa?"
"She lives...but enough about the prefect..."
"Prefect?" Maple repeated, getting out of the bed.
"Ancient history..." Maranon answered. "Gods she was sooooo lovestruck with Ni-Ne back then. It made her hot, but in a cutesy way. Good if you want a snack..." the former Queen said strutting towards her with a stare as sultry as her grin was pleasing, circling the green eyed former Jedi, who kept still, feeling the raw pull of the ancient Zeltron.
"...but bad if you want something...more...of course its the opposite problem she has nowadays...nowadays...one taste simply isn't enough is it?" Maranon joked.
"If you think you can brainwash me into falling into your arms--"
"I have never needed to brainwash anyone into my arms..." Maranon proclaimed, staring into Maple's green eyes, open lust and hunger communicated by sulphur eyes. "I don't need to. They always go into my arms. Always. Even Adra Divv, though she liked to be shown power. It was our way of flirting..."
Maranon took a step closer. Maple felt an upswell of lust and the darkness within.
"I have so much to offer..." Maranon whispered coyly.
"Where are we heading?" Maple asked absentminded, fixing on Maranon's lips.
"My birth planet, Zeltros...I have a castle there..."
"Another?" Maple asked.
"You'll like it...wide spaces, the sights..." Maranon breathed, getting closer.
"The sounds...an endless celebration...I never went there, you know, when I was younger...so much passion...it was intoxicating when I did..."
"And what happens once we get there?"
Maranon considered the question.
"Well, hopefully us making out...like, a lot..." the ex-Queen answered lustfully as she drew closer. Maple's heart pounded, her attraction to femme fatales in a frenzy.
"You and I are not so different..." Maranon breathed again, hand slinking to Maple's wrist. "We were promised so much...weren't we? That we would make a difference? That we wouldn't be alone..."
Slender pink fingers entwined with tan ones. The tan fingers clutched tighter without meaning to.
"That we wouldn't be afraid..." Maranon trailed into a whisper, closing the distance.
"Are you going to kill Sawa?" Maple asked, holding Maranon's hungry stare.
Maranon gave it pause. "Well I certainly can't let her off with just a tickle torture after eating most of my spirit, now can I? Hmmm...tell you what...we'll leave an...open question..." Maranon offered coyly. "Until then, she is a prisoner. And you? You're my guest."
"What do you want from me, Maranon?" Maple asked just as quietly.
Maranon chuckled.
"I am rebuilding my power base. I shall rule, elsewhere, but a ruler must have a consort. Imagine it Harte...throngs of subjects as far as the eye can see, worshipping you on their knees, adoring us as we walk the centuries unaging...growing ever more powerful..." Maranon answered, telekinetically pulling the slender bounty hunter towards her with telekinesis with a twitch of her finger.
"In public, I would be the ruler...in private...your slave..." the Sith almost hissed. "You need but give the command, and I would murder whoever, in front of you. Whisper it in my ear and a city burns, their bodies laid on spikes for your delightful eyes to gloat over."
"You think such butchery could make me love you?" Maple asked.
Maranon countered. "If you commanded it and I did it...would it?"
Maple didn't answer.
Maranon tsk-tsked her. "Never ask a question if you are not prepared to ask--or answer--the real question behind the one on your lips...your delicious, yummy looking lips." Maranon cooed.
Maple felt her heart beat faster being so close to her. "If I say no?"
Maranon made a face. "I'd be crestfallen..." she thought, remembering her first love. She obsessed over getting what she wanted in many things but even she knew her reaction had been stunningly immature.
"You didn't really answer me."
"If you only stay out of fear of being killed its not really a relationship. Merely captive to captor. What pleasure could be found in that?" Maranon asked. "I won't compel you to stay. Darth Maranon does not beg. I merely ask you spend a few days with me, to see how much more you could have. For example...you know what I love the most about dresses?" Maranon asked slyly.
Maple developed an inquisitive expression. "What?"
Maranon reached behind her gown and undid to simple clasps. The shadowy garment dropped off a nude frame.
"They can be taken off..." Maranon answered with a smirk.
Maple's self control failed her completely. Completely.
