Private Oh, It's You Again

[Nyara Dakhan]

Varin Mortifer
​

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.”

 

[Varin Mortifer]

Nyara Dakhan

He didn't have many days where he could just sit back and relax, and even then, he wouldn't waste the time on doing just nothing. Today was no different from that. Growth was important to the young sith. Today he decided he would do some studying on a specific sith technique. He wanted to learn how to harness lightning, in hopes to impress his master with a technique he had been planning.

As he sat there enthralled with his studies and notes he heard a very familiar voice as a couple of hands clapped on the table he was reading at.

“Well I’ll be damned. Look who it is.”

Looking up from his tome he saw the face of the Sith Pureblood he sparred with a couple weeks prior. Noticing the scar on her lip he smirked.

"If it isn't my mysterious sparring buddy."

He couldn't help himself but slightly smile. She had left quite an impression on him.....and his brow for that matter. He had trouble ever since with the fact of not getting her name.

He noticed her smirking as well as she glanced over his tome.

“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.”

He gently set the tome down and looked her in the eye.

"To an extent, I am. In fact, I can breathe it. But I can't control when I do it, so I figured studying up on it would help me understand better."

He searched her face and almost in an instant he remembered to "pop" the question.

"I'm Varin by the way. What's your name?"

 

[Nyara Dakhan]

Varin Mortifer​

"To an extent, I am. In fact, I can breathe it. But I can't control when I do it, so I figured studying up on it would help me understand better."

Nyara’s gaze shot up from the tome to look at the young man, both her eyebrows lifted in surprise and a rather clear expression of disbelief on her sharp featured, crimson hued face. “Breathe Sith lightning? That’s absurd. I’ve never heard of anyone doing that.” she exclaimed, before her eyes narrowed slightly when he introduced himself to her.

“You can’t just say something like that then ask about names as if you just didn’t reveal a hidden secret about Sith lightning!” she exclaimed once more, before another half smirk tugged at her darker red lips. She debated for a heartbeat or two about sharing her own name, before she figured it wouldn’t hurt anything. They had sparred after all, and wounded each other. It was only fair.

“Nyara, of Clan Dakhan.” she finally said, before her golden eyes traveled over him once more and back to the tome. It was about this time that her belly rumbled, and reminded her that she was rather famished. Judging from the time of day that it was, it was about time for dinner. The Pureblood pursed her lips for a moment as a thought popped into her head, and she lifted her gaze back to Varin’s.

“Care to join me in the dining hall for dinner? I’m starved but I’d like to hear more about this…ability of yours. And maybe see if you know other secrets about Force techniques that I’ve never heard about.” She backed away from the table he was seated at and partially turned towards the exit before pausing to glance over her shoulder at him, as if she was expecting him to follow her to the Academy’s dining hall.

 

[Varin Mortifer]

Nyara Dakhan

Varin fell quiet for a second, not quite understanding the implications on the sensitive information he just shared, before the pureblood woman introduced herself.

“Nyara, of Clan Dakhan.”

Varin heard a slight rumble come from her as she stood up and offered to dine with her in the dining hall for dinner. Varins eyes widened ever so slightly, just to try to keep a good poker face.

.....Did she just ask me out for a date? No, that can’t be it, but that's what I was told if you ask someone out for a meal it's technically a date.

Varin paused for a moment as the thought quickly raced out of his mind as fast as it intruded. It was at this point his stomach rumbled. He then realised that being so focused on these studies he had forgotten to eat for the day, maybe even the day prior. He closed the tome and set it back on the shelf. Walking over to her he couldn’t help but be at a loss for words in his head, all he could make out was.

“Y-yeah, that sounds fine to me.”

Nailed it He thought to himself sarcastically.

As they walked to the mess hall The young apprentice couldn’t help but ask.

“Is breathing lightning not all that common?”

As they walked down the hall passed various faces.

 

[Nyara Dakhan]

Varin Mortifer​

The young human male, Varin, seemed to hesitate on taking her up on her offer and she wondered for a moment why that might be. Not many refused a Sith Pureblood, not the smart ones at least, and she was a breath away from simply walking away, when he finally responded.

“Y-yeah, that sounds fine to me.”

Nyara watched with her sharp golden eyes as he replaced the tome to its rightful place, and before he could catch up to her she had already turned and started leaving the library. The red-skinned woman walked with purpose, her chin lifted ever so slightly, her entire persona giving off the presence of superiority. She felt Varin’s presence join her in the hall, but hardly spared him a glance as she led him towards the dining hall.

Before too long, the scent of food and the lively chatter of the mess hall’s denizens, reached the duo and it was about this time that Varin asked her a question.

“Is breathing lightning not all that common?”

She turned her face ever so slightly to regard him with her haughty gaze. “You’re the first to say you can do such a thing, at least from what I’m aware of. In my vast studies of the Force, I have never heard of anyone controlling lightning in such a way.” She admitted, before adding: “But that doesn’t mean it’s anything special or particularly uncommon.”

Nyara couldn’t have him getting an ego boost; the academy was filled with puffed up wanna-be pretender Sith as it was, and she wouldn’t suffer being around another one in her free time. Truthfully though, she had never heard of someone breathing Force lightning, and it intrigued her enough that she decided she would approach her Father about it. Perhaps one of the very few times she was eager to speak to her Pureblood Sire.

Nyara and Varin turned a corner and came face to face with the grand entrance of the dining hall, and once again the Sith woman’s belly rumbled loudly with her hunger. She wasted no time in heading for the buffet line, and as expected most of the Acolytes already there stopped where they were at to let her cut ahead of them.

All that was, except for one Weequay male that stepped into her pathway and blocked her from reaching the food. Unbeknownst to Nyara, her human companion would recognize the fool as one of his dorm mates.

Nyara paused and turned her attention fully upon the Weequay, her golden eyes glinting dangerously. “Move, whelp.” she said coldly, clearly expecting him to obey her.

“Why should I? What makes you so special that you get to cut in front of me? Do you know who I am?” the Weequay responded back with an arrogant drawl as he crossed muscle bounded arms in front of his chest. Nyara tilted her head to one side as she looked him over in a manner that was more disgusted than impressed.

“I don’t give a kark who you are, or who you claim to be. You will move, or I will make sure you never move again. Choose quickly, runt. I grow impatient.”

Fury flashed over the Weequay’s face as he snarled and he started to move as if to strike Nyara, but just before the tense situation could get out of hand, a dark clad figure seemed to materialize out of nowhere and clapped the Acolyte on the shoulder, halting his progress. The figure carried a rather commanding, authoritative presence, and even Nyara dipped her chin in a gesture of respect.

“Back of the line, Acolyte. Now.” the dark robed man, now revealed to be one of the Darths that taught at the Academy, said in a tone that brooked no argument. The Weequay growled with frustration and shot both Nyara and Varin a glare, before shouldering past the two of them to go stand in the back of the now much longer line. The Pureblood woman turned her attention to her companion, and gestured for Varin to take his place in the line, behind her. She was quick to grab the food she wanted - a few slices of roasted meats, with a surprisingly generous portion of healthy greens and fruits, before she turned to find a table to sit at.

A group of fellow Sith Purebloods, males and females who had commandeered part of the mess hall, gestured to her to join them, but she ignored them as she picked her table and sat down, waiting for Varin to join her.

“Of course that nosy Darth had to ruin my fun.” She muttered with irritation as she stabbed her fork into her salad. “First years are the worst, I swear. If I see him again, I’m going to skin him alive and wear his ugly hide as a loincloth.”

 

[Varin Mortifer]

Nyara Dakhan

The interaction was quick between Nyara and the weequay. But without realising it Varin had already grabbed a hold of a piece of cutlery, ready to dive into a fight in a moment's notice. Placing the cutlery down he noticed he melted a few finger joints into the metal. Taking a deep breath he placed it on his tray as his weequay neighbor was ushered to the back of the line.

“What are you in the mood for?” He asked before realising the pile of meat and veggies she started towering up.

His question was quiet and nonchalant, almost as if trying to hide a heightened sense to jump into conflict. The on switch was a hair trigger, coming down from it though was a work in progress. He followed her through the line piling meat and carbs onto his tray, listening to her vent about the prior situation. No doubt the weequay will want to take some sort of revenge after all of that.

“Weequay flesh is brittle, the tanning process would cause it to disintegrate before the process had cured. You would do better by turning his bones into a throne or even better a step stool, so he will always be below you.”

He quietly began to eat.

“Those other purebloods won’t have a problem with you eating with someone whos “inferior” to you will they? They might put up a decent fight.”

Sith pureblood has a very sweet aftertaste to it, always delectable. Some of the best wine ever made.

Varins brow furrowed after Ignati spoke to him but he kept slowly and quietly eating.