Private Of Our Own Blood

[Lysander von Ascania]

Efret Farr​

Against sandstone and faded walls, the Sith appeared like someone might've spilled ink across the scenery. The black tunic, leggings, and dark boots: tried and true, constant as ever. A tug at the collar came and went to let a little more air in. Absently, a thumb found its way to the opposite wrist, circling the skin every now and then.

Every direction was welcoming. Different from Throneworld, and different from what came before that. Nothing really barred the sky here. The view was pleasant on the eyes, beautiful in a way the Core could never possibly manage. Entering the Core again had felt like stepping back into a future already written. And barely afterward came the leaving of it behind. So now, Lorrd held the ground, though Lysander knew the time away from home wouldn't last for too long.

For a while there had been only walking alongside Efret. At a street corner, his shoulders finally angled toward her. He waited until she found him. Brows climbed as a crooked grin settled into place. Somewhere nearby, the scent of roasted meats and cooking oil wafted through the air. Of course, it complemented the sunlight washing over both of them in generous spills.

Right then, his stomach growled loud enough to announce itself to the entire street. There'd been weeks of tasteless rations and whatever else could be called cuisine. With real food so close, the gnawing could've been borderline religious.

"Okay, Efie, be honest," Lysander started, gesturing with an open palm, "on a scale from 'absolutely, I know this city like the back of my hand' to 'Lysander, I haven't lived here since I was basically a youngling,' what are the odds Bepru has something edible within, say.. sprinting distance? Because I could totally demolish an entire bantha, bones and all, and still ask about dessert. So please, lead your starving bro to salvation." Well, hopefully she had an appetite too. He'd feel a little less shameless about the amount of food he was ready to put away.

 

[Efret Farr]

It didn't feel real, being back on these vaguely familiar streets. From the moment that Efret had been taken by the Jedi from her family with their consent, she had been told that it would likely be too dangerous to return—both for her and her family—until she had begun to tell herself. Lorrd and the space around it changed hands frequently, alternating between Sith and Mandalorian influence or outright control.

It currently found itself near the border of Mandalorian Empire territory but, as an established member of the Sith Covenant now, Efret felt empowered to finally make the homecoming trip she had once resigned herself to never having.

"I remember exceedingly little, unfortunately," Efret admitted. She didn't sign in front of herself anymore, like she had up until the last time they had interacted, nor was the voice that came out of her new choker match that of her vocoder. Instead, it was that of a real woman seeping out of the pendant alongside translucent red wisps of whatever magick had bound the disembodied voice there.

It's tones mirrored Efret's intended delivery, something her vocoder's programming had never been able to replicate, creating a synergy between the enslaved voice and Efret's ever-expressive countenance.

"But I do see a kathi roll shop just a road over."

Her elevated sense of smell helped to identify the proximity, but remote wayfinding was possible through Force Sight. She could literally see the stall through the buildings lining one side of this street.

She took his arm to follow him but directed him to the stall from his side.

As they neared, Efret's eyes and focus found the large menu posted on the front of the half wall below the ordering window. Fortunately for her, the document was hand-written, which allowed her to see and read it herself. "Yum! Look at the selection," she commented, bending a bit to read through doing so was not necessary, nor did it help her. "Have you ever had Lorrdian food, Lys?" she asked rhetorically, turning back to him. "It's very spicy. Both flavorful and hot, though you can normally get it less hot. Cucumber raita can help too, with the temperature."

She sidestepped slightly so that Lysander might be able to see the posted menu a bit better, and turned back to the stall worker. "I'd like the paneer kathi, an order of cucumber raita, and a shot of beaten coffee, please, good sir. I'll also pay for whatever my brother would like."

Lysander von Ascania​

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Efret Farr​

Unfamiliar streets or not, comfort crept in regardless, and with it breaths came slower, a little steadier too. Wondering drifted through at the confession, mainly whether forgetting might actually be kinder. Remembering too much of home sometimes carried its own price, the kind of ache that stuck around for days, sometimes longer. Well, the strain never really faded; the presence just moved to a different part of him.

"Suppose that just means there's more left to rediscover, right?"

Steps adjusted to her lead without hesitation. Eyes soon widened at the sight of the menu, mouth falling open before any thought could catch it. It hit him like a wall. A good wall. Turning back toward Efret, a helpless laugh escaped in the exchange. "Honestly, never even been close to trying Lorrdian food before, not once," came out with an amused shake of the head. "Though everything up there sounds incredible, seriously, how is anyone supposed to choose?"

Rubbing at the back of the neck, Lysander added, "Spicy stuff isn't exactly an everyday thing, but never been opposed to a little heat either." Debating between several equally tempting options made his thoughts swim a little; any plate would have been a joy, narrowing it down was the hard part. Back with the Badawans, choosing wrong never mattered; you could always swipe a bite off someone else's plate. All fair game between brothers back on Korriban. Simpler math.

Another smile found its way over to Efret before attention shifted to the stall worker. "Could I get the fireleaf flatbread wrap, one spiced bantha skewer and the pickled spicefruit." Yeah, his hunger was definitely being downplayed, currently feeling like a starving Sith ordering barely an appetizer while trying not to seem greedy. "Actually.. I'll take one of the cucumber raitas as well, thank you." Credcard already between fingers, the hand extended to nudge it gently into Efret's palm. "You should let me pay this time, alright?"

 

[Efret Farr]

"Alright," Efret conceded as she accepted the card. "Here you are, my friend," she told the worker, likewise extending payment to him with a warm smile. Once swiped, she returned the card to Lysander and put her own away into her belt. Her gaze found Lys' with a playful spark. "I hope you weren't expecting a fight," her necklace commented as she gave a mischievous smirk. "I don't play that game."

The ping-ponging of financial responsibility between friends or grown family that some thought to be polite. Efret just thought it exhausting, and at times unintentionally patronizing when there were age dynamics involved. She never wanted to take away someone's autonomy, even for something as seemingly small as paying for a meal.

She led them again to a nearby table set underneath a slightly tattered, cloth awning. "It keeps you cool, did you know?" she asked, again rhetorically. "In the heat. It causes you to sweat and, if it can evaporate, it cools your skin."

Lysander von Ascania​

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Efret Farr
​

"And what, pray tell, is so criminal about attempting to successfully feed my sister, Efie? I mean, honestly, it felt like a pretty noble quest." Laughter escaped before he could even get the sentence out properly. Practically sacred duty, right? Palms lifted in exaggerated surrender before accepting the card back and sliding it home.

Wandering after Efret involved scooping up the food parcel from the counter, careful not to slosh the raita, and finding that shaded spot just a step behind her. Dropping into the chair beneath the awning came with a sigh of relief.. though Lysander still cast her a dubious look seconds later. "So.. let me make sure I've got the science right. It's hot, therefore we eat something that makes us hotter, which makes us sweat, which at some point makes us colder?" Eyes narrowed thoughtfully, and then his whole face cracked straight down the middle which gave him away entirely. "Yeah, no. Still absolutely eating it."

The fireleaf wrap lived up to its name immediately, delivering heat that spread from lips to throat. He chased it with a small sip of the cucumber raita. Contemplating the whole cup in one go suddenly sounded dangerously reasonable.

Across from her, the corners of his mouth twitched upward again, while leaning forward. "Before you deny anything, I'd like you to know I've already ruled the rumor to be completely true." Another thoughtful bite followed. Not a shred of shame either. "As emissary," he added while mouth was half busy, "I am privy to whispers, you know. And your name seems to come up alongside one gentleman rather often." Whether 'often' meant thrice or twenty times could have been hopelessly muddled along the way. Surely everyone knew that messengers tended to embellish.

His free hand tapped against the table. "You can tell me voluntarily, or I'm totally going to start filling in the blanks myself."

For all the theatrics, he was genuinely curious.

 

[Efret Farr]

She tracked his faux incredulousness behind the lip of her small, handleless cup. After a sip, her brows raised and she shrugged easily, brushing off his playful disbelief with nonchalance, but he too could see joy peeking through her expression. When he broke, she did too, a smile coming across her face before she finally reached for her own wrap.

Watching him speak delayed her bite. Responding did too, though it was not necessary—not with the choker A'Mia had made her.

"I'm interested how you would fill in the blanks," she teased through the bound voice. She carefully pours a bit of her raita over the kathi filling before taking a bite. "But I will cooperate, brother." She gave a knowing smile. He already knew her association with Casimir to be a fact, so she didn't bother to confirm, but Lysander didn't necessarily know that they were together. "What do you want to know?"

Lysander von Ascania​

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Efret Farr​

Sitting across from her, fingers laced loosely around the cup. Lysander let out a laugh into the rim. "Honestly, nothing specific needed. I mean, no pressure for details not ready to be shared. Maybe just.. how did you two meet? Or like, what kind of terrible joke did he open with? Something small."

Sauce from the wrap had gotten onto the corner of his mouth somewhere along the way. With no napkin in sight, his knuckles took care of it. Efficient, if not exactly grateful. Another bite was taken, chewed slowly, eyes crinkling a little at the edges.

"Oh, I have another idea. How about collaborative mode then?" A smile appeared at one corner of the mouth. "We could.. treat this like a joint investigation. You supply the facts, then I’ll supply terrible theories. And together we find the middle?" That sounded better than some grand interrogation.

His smile only got wider. “But no reciprocity clause." The hypocrisy was very much noted; it was also being completely ignored.

 

[Efret Farr]

Her smile faltered.

The situation in which she had met Casimir had been...unideal, to say the least. Embarrassing. Dangerous. Stupid. If he hadn't happened to be there when she fell, she wouldn't be alive.

She didn't know if she wanted to admit that much to anyone, especially Lysander. They had shared very serious aspects of their lives with each other before, but now didn't seem to be an appropriate time to continue. So she'd just brush over the inciting incident. Plenty more happened on that mountain; Efret would disclose that.

The corners of her lips stretched back up as quickly as they had dropped. "No reciprocity?" she echoed. "Very well. We'll play your game."

She took another drink of coffee. "Alright. I met Casimir on a mountain. He asked me about a Nethergate there." She leaned back in her chair. "Spin a tale with that, brother."

Lysander von Ascania​

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Efret Farr​

[/CENTER]

Lysander took another bite of the fireleaf wrap before answering, like he needed the time to assemble the case properly. He immediately regretted the confidence with which he'd taken it. "Mm.. okay, okay," he managed while chewing.

"So.. a mountain. You meet Casimir on a mountain. He immediately asks you about a Nethergate located there. Because this was a man on a mission."

He gestured vaguely with the wrap, then thought better of it and set it down to steal a piece of pickled spicefruit instead, popping it into his mouth while he thought.

"My initial theory.. and tell me if I'm tracking, is that Casimir got lost. Like, spectacularly lost. Man goes looking for a Nethergate, somehow ends up wandering around a mountain without the slightest clue where it actually is, sees you, and does what any sensible lost traveler would do. He asks the first competent looking person he can find."

One brow lifted. "Handsome lost traveler, I'm assuming. For.. evidentiary purposes!"

​

​

 

[Efret Farr]

The upturned corners of a mischievous smile peeked at Lysander from behind the lip of her vessel before she sit it down. "He wasn't lost," her bound voice gently corrected, the verbal tone a reflection of her laidback mood. "Not physically. He just didn't know how to open the gate." She shrugged. "Nor did I. But I tried and what I tried worked. Shatterpoint, if you're curious."

She didn't know how much experience had had with the Netherworld but, given how it seemed to be playing an ever-larger role in the Covenant's affairs, it would behoove Lysander to know, should he ever find himself on one side of a Neathergate and needing to get to the other in either direction.

"And I happened to be the only other person there. My competence was incidental." A sincere smile this time. "But thank you for the compliment."

Lysander von Ascania​

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Efret Farr​

The cup stalled halfway to Lysander's mouth. *Not physically. *Very Interesting. Interesting enough that the emissary in him could construct a dozen new questions before his next bite. Lost how, then? Lost when? Before the mountain, or because of whatever waited upon it?

But.. this was lunch with his sister, not an interrogation. His gaze sharpened over the rim before he finally took the sip. Then the rest landed.

"Hold up." The cup lowered. "You used Shatterpoint on a Nethergate?" Curiosity about the mysterious man abruptly found itself demoted. Lysander leaned forward, eyebrows doing most of the talking for a few seconds. "Okay, Casimir being spiritually lost can wait. Explain that."

He'd broken plenty of things through the Force to understand the principle, but a Nethergate was different altogether. Did the fracture feel the same when the thing being broken wasn't entirely.. physical? Was there resistance?

For now, another bite of the fireleaf wrap vanished. He chewed more slowly this time. Apparently, being the only person there meant competence no longer counted. Convenient legal theory. He'd have to remember that one.

Lysander's smile widened across the table.

"You're welcome."

The words came out soft. Totally unacceptable.

"But your bro still needs confirmation on whether he was handsome."