Nyara Dakhan
Clan Dakhan
Boredom coiled itself within Nyara’s crimson form; enough to drive her to search the ever shifting halls and various rooms and chambers of the Academy to find some unlucky soul to torment for her own amusement. She had no other classes to attend for the day, and though she knew she should be working on a project that was due before break, she really didn’t feel like it at the moment.
The Pureblood woman passed by numerous other individuals - both student and faculty alike - and most gave her a wide berth, though there were a few that locked eyes with her boldly, or perhaps foolishly, and she memorized their faces for later recall. Golden eyes flickered to a flyer that hung on a nearby wall, and she saw the announcement of the upcoming Tukata Tears concert being held in holy Dreshdae, and she silently sighed to herself in disappointment. She had been wanting to attend the concert with some of her own kind - but she was due to go back home to her Clan, a “request” from her Father and Head of Clan Dakhan. She was not one to disobey or dismiss her Father’s summons, especially since he was one of the Lords of Korriban who served the Sith King.
Nyara turned down another long and winding hall, headed towards one of the various library/common rooms scattered around the Academy, and she stepped into the large chamber like she owned the place. Her eyes shifted over the various scattered tables and lounge chairs, as well as the shelves of various tomes, datacrons, holocrons and other items or materials students would need to access for their studies. She noticed that this particular library chamber was mostly empty…except for a couple individuals.
But only one caught her eye, and she felt a faint tug on the corner of her lips as memories of their last spar and duel came into her mind. She watched the young and seemingly human male as he seemed to be studying up on some topic. Curiosity drove the Sith Pureblood forward, and she made her approach without caution or nervousness.
“Well I’ll be damned. Look who it is.” She said, her voice carrying the hint of amusement as her eyes flickered over his face, searching for the scar she no doubt left on his brow. Nyara set her hands down on the table a little harder than what was needed, and leaned across so that he had no choice but to acknowledge her presence. Golden eyes turned towards the tome he seemed to be studying, and after scanning a few lines written in ur-Kittât, she registered that he was reading up on the technique known as Force or Sith lightning.
Her slight smirk widened further. “Force lightning, hmm? Are you familiar with the technique? I should hope so. Anyone who wants to call themselves a ‘Sith’ should at least know how to use it.”