So Far Above

[Lief]

Some Unknown Penthouse​

Nar Shaddaa​

​

Another mark was etched against the flimsiplast sheet which had spent most of its time hidden between the mattress and the bed frame.

How many days it denoted she didn't know, she did not dare count, yet she could tell just by looking at it that the number was high. As quickly as it had been removed from the bed the poor sheet which barely saw the light of day was returned.

Asha proceeded to slump against the mattress, eyes set up at the ceiling. She might have remained there all day, had the distinct sound of a kettle whistling not drawn her from her thoughts. A small semblance of normalcy in what was otherwise very strange circumstances.

Slipping from the bed, she padded barefoot through the apartment into the kitchen which lay just off the bedroom. It had been one of the first things she'd noticed upon waking up here that first day, he'd been stood with glass in hand just beyond the threshold.

She reached for a similar glass, everything in this place was so perfect it made her feel out of place, every piece of silverware, every dish, and cup, was part of a matching set. It felt so sterile. Even the plants looked fake, but she wasn't entirely certain if that was the case.

Filling the glass with some water she took a sip before reaching into one of the cabinets for a bottle of pills. Her head throbbed, and as soon as the painkiller landed in her palm she tossed it into her mouth and swallowed. She was grateful they were fast acting. Beside it on the shelf another bottle lay, vitamins which would counteract the fact that she didn't get out much. Once or twice she'd taken tea on the balcony, but it was so noisy out there with the din of Nar Shaddaa to contend with.

So she hid away instead, inside where the soundproofed glass saved her such agony.

Pulling the kettle from the stove, she began to pour herself a cup of tea. The leaves held no comparison to her own blend, of course, but even so it gave her some sort of familiarity to latch on to.

In the background the sound of a holo movie could be heard, though Asha had long since lost interest in whatever plotline it was conveying. She was restless, longed to stretch her legs more than the penthouse could accommodate. She had to find a new hobby, before she went insane.

 

[Xevek Nekonis]

"How you can stand such drivel is beyond me." The once gruff tones of the Iridonian Sith Lord now held a certain ethereal quality to it as he reclined in one of the seats decorating the apartment; translucent even as he held a form, an echo of a soul playing out new moments upon the canvas of the Force. A Force Spirit. "Tell me, Keoz, did I choose wrong in taking an interest in you?"

Standing without even moving, the form of Lykos now stood off to one side of the room, before the large glass windows. Staring out at the stretching landscape of the Smuggler's Moon, he simply stood there, arms clasped behind his back. Death had been a release for him, no longer did he feel the ever present pain that had once embedded itself within his bones. Without a physical form he felt liberated and lighter than he had ever done so before. Of course, the physical pain had been replaced by a deeper, more real, pain upon his Death. In the end, he had amounted to nothing, become nothing, left nothing behind but shattered plans. In the end, the Universe continued to move as he had suspected, and all he was left with was a sense of disappointment in himself for failing. He had always known that his death would not be lamented, but, to die failing with nothing left: that hurt.

Setting his gaze upon the building where he knew the Black Adder to be, and where the safehouse beneath the club would be, a small smirk crossed intangible features. Already he could feel the gentle tug at his soul, the pull of the soul anchors he had made as his loyal Hand went about preparing for his rebirth. Soon, he would have a second chance to thrive within the uncaring Universe and, that time, he would not fail.

Shifting without movement once more, Lykos retook his seat, glaring at Asha with his single eyes. "I had expected much of you, Keoz. And, yet, here you are, a caged bird with clipped wings. In the end, it is a disappointment." He took a moment to raise a brow at the tiea she had just poured. "Let alone you are sampling such swill."


[member="Asha Hex"]

 

[Lief]

The unexpected voice had the mug almost slip from her hands.

Thankfully, whether through fear of repercussions if one of the set were destroyed, or simply a desire not to spill hot tea on herself, Asha managed to retain her grasp of it though a small gasp escaped her lips.

Turning toward the spectral being, she was surprised to find an old face sat lounging upon one of the sofas. The Force flowed freely between them, a sensation she had missed during her time here. It was all so artificial, and while the mystical energy flowed between everything that ever was, some things were better at holding it than others.

"Blaidd?" she blinked twice, then stepped around the kitchen island and into the connected living room, most of the place was open concept so it wasn't difficult to do. Just as quickly as he had appeared there, though, he seemed to fade from existence and reappear beside the windows. If only she was capable of such a feat, perhaps then she would not feel so trapped here.

"I am sorry if my current state offends you," she breathed, not certain if she was being genuine or a little snarky in that moment though her tone of voice remained extremely respectful. Though he may have strayed too far to the Darkside, the man - of specter - before her was someone she had come to care about. "What happened to you? How is it that you came to meet your end?"

There was a genuine grief held within her voice, and when he reappeared back on the sofa she stepped down the couple of steps and settled herself onto one of the others, watching him with a soft frown.

"Nobody is as disappointed in me, right now, than I am."

Her voice was airy, wracked with guilt as she looked away from him and down to the mug in her hands. The contents of it brought forth a light steam which felt nice against her face.

"The tea isn't so bad, once you get used to it... Better than the other options."

[member="Darth Lykos"]

 

[Xevek Nekonis]

"I died." The two words were delivered with a deadpan expressions, calmly stated even though the subject matter was not one that a reasonable person would be calmly speaking about, let along speak about in the first place. "That is what happened and how I met my end. I died, pure and simple." For a moment, the spirit's expression did not falter from the glare that was carved across of it, but, in the end, it shattered into a smirk as Lykos mimicked leaning back in the seat, uncaring of the fact that a portion of his body was phasing through it. "But I assume that your captivity has not dulled you that much, in which case, I passed into my death through following the natural order of the Sith: the strong live and the weak die when two meet in combat. I was weak and so I was killed, culled so that the trunk would remain strong despite my rot." Every word was spoken with acceptance, but, also, with a sense of distance, as if what had happened had yet to full settle into place.

"But, enough of that, the topic of my death is one that I would not like to ruminate on, it being a personal failure as it is. What happened to you Keoz? Hm? How did this free-flying sparrow end up with his wings clipped and beak bound?" A translucent hand gestured to the room around them. "For, gilded though it may be, a cage is still a cage."

Not even allowing Asha a moment to reply, Lykos leaned forwards, cocking his head to one side as he raised a brow. "I am a possessive man, Keoz. Very much so. Yet, I do not stake some manner of claim on useless and broken things, I seek and claim that which is strong, powerful and influential. And I have claimed you since you accepted the name of Keoz, the name I bestowed upon you. You are my oh so interesting little sparrow, a spark that shines so differently from the rest of the useless, monotonous rabble that populates this festering plague of a galaxy. So, tell me, did I claim the wrong person? Are you not strong? You, who now sits within this cage with no spirit and disappointment weighing upon your shoulders? How did this come to be, Keoz?"


[member="Asha Hex"]

 

[Lief]

She stared at him for a moment as he stated the obvious, unsure if this was some sort of joke.

Did he truly think her to be that unknowing?

The signs of a smirk had her realize otherwise, and as he settled into one of the seats close to her own she lifted the mug of piping hot tea to her lips and took a small sip. It warmed her to the core, staving off some of the chill of the sterile environment they found themselves within.

He spoke of the Sith, of meeting his end due to the order of things, and the frown which was already playing upon her lips deepened. Death for the sake of death, for one to advance another had to fall. She would never understand the ways of the Sith, there would always be a strength in numbers and if you killed all who could be deemed an ally you would find yourself in a very empty place.

At the same time who was she to judge?

The Je'daii had their own oddities, she was sure.

Soon enough though the topic turned to her own predicament, and Asha turned her sights across the room. He was correct of course it was a jail she found herself within, and for a girl such as she who had spent her lifetime constantly on the move standing still like this was infuriating. In many ways it was worse than the Graveyard and that place had been a literal nexus of darkside energy, a place where thousands of bodies had lay, bodies she had been forced to move. One by one. Day after day.

She shivered just thinking about it.

This was an entirely different kind of torture though. That which came with loneliness, aimlessness, there was nothing for her to do, no structure as there had been with Aellin, weeks passed by without a word from anyone. She woke to find the cupboards restocked, clothes washed, she'd exit the refresher to see the bed had been changed. All without seeing anyone.

Or perhaps the point was more to ensure nobody saw her.

What did she know?

Of course she did not have a chance to defend herself, not that there was truthfully any way to do so, because the Zabrak resumed his speech. This time however she was somewhat confused by the contents of his words.

"Claimed?" she inquired, unable to help herself from asking what exactly that entailed. Was this another cultural difference, laid out before her? As had been the case with the tea mishap back on Teth? "I am not broken" she told him, her head lifting ever so slightly in a subconscious fashion, "I... Simply cannot fly from a place such as this. I do not know where I am, I do not know who or what lies on the other side of the door..."

Letting out a heavy sigh she lowered her gaze to her lap.

"I was trying to save somebody's life. Lots of bodies, actually... There was a deal going down, human trafficking, and I was supposed to intercept it. He got to me first, took me out when I tried to stop him from killing his target. And then I woke up here."

She gestured around the room, before finally looking back across to him.

"You say you have laid claim over me. Does... Does that mean you'll help? I'll make sure that you don't regret it, I swear..."

[member="Darth Lykos"]