The Wrong Side of Heaven

[Joza Perl]

Ruusan hadn’t helped Joza’s mental state—rather, the aftermath of the invasion only scrambled her already damaged mind further. But what could she expect? Storming the Triumvirate capital, knowing that her lover and his Master would be waiting? And they had been. Orcus sensed her rather quickly, why else would he have dropped into the din so suddenly? Both he and Haytham tried vehemently to convince her to their side, denouncing the Silver Jedi she’d stood with for so long. Her Sith lover had even shot her with the Hapan Gun of Command, forcing her to descend to the dark side.

She did not join them. Instead, the fall left her confused, hurt and angry. Joza was mad at Haytham, mad at herself. She questioned their commitment, the validity of their bond, and her own fragile psyche. The Zeltron couldn’t go back to him even if she wanted, not after what he’d done, after what she’d done. She had tried to kill him, and the friend who intervened on her behalf. No, she couldn’t even return the Silver Jedi after how far she’d sunk.

The scent of charred flesh caused her nose to tingle, and for once she didn’t scrunch up her face in irritation over the smell. Satisfaction overwhelmed her senses for the briefest of moments as the last man had been reduced to nothing but cinders. When she had the time, Joza kept tabs on the various trafficking groups scattered around the smuggler’s moon. Tonight she was lucky enough to catch them in the act—a pair of men attempted to snatch a young woman from the streets, but quickly found themselves consumed by the Knight’s pyrokinesis. Their victim, largely unharmed, had fled the scene as soon as she was able. While Joza had no intent to harm the innocent, she could no longer be sure of where her actions would lead.

Taking a step back to admire the scorch marks against the alley wall, she inhaled deeply, lungs swelling with a mixture of crisp night air and soot.

[member="Darth Pyrrhus"]

 

[Darth Pyrrhus]

It was not often that the Sith Lord travelled to Nar Shaddaa. It wasn't uncommon for him to send someone there in his stead, but this time he travelled alone. He didn't trust anyone with this task. This was normally the thing he'd send Cedric for, but that nature of this had him decide to let the Epicanthix sit this one out. After all, with his known lust for dark artefacts he was likely to conjure up a lie, say that it was lost or destroyed while taking the item for himself. That would not do. Perhaps Pyrrhus would set up some business contacts while he was here, this was certainly a place where he could profit. But perhaps that was better left for another time. Now he was here primarily for the amulet.

The full extent of the amulet's ability he did not know. He knew only that it was powerful and was rumoured to have belonged to a powerful Sith Lord. It deepened the connection of its wearer to the Dark Side, adding another pool of reserves to draw upon. That was more of a side-effect of its primary power, however. If the rumours were true, the artefact drew upon the Force essence of those within a certain radius. It fed upon the Dark and corrupted the Light, draining it to add to its own reserves, which in turn became available to its master. The amulet was a hungry one, but not without some mercy. Fortunately the wearer was shielded from its effects.

Darth Pyrrhus had tracked it to Nar Shaddaa. Items such as these often left a trail of destruction and despair in its wake, and he had followed the breadcrumbs left behind. It had stayed with the same owner for long, until now. Already in the past month it had changed hands half a dozen times. One might almost think it was a lost cause at this point, but he was starting to become aware of its presence. It was still on this planet. Now that he was getting near he could sense its power. It called to him, drew him closer. Now he would stop at nothing.

It was that calling that had the tall Togruta Lord wander the streets of the smuggler's moon. He was on edge. Focused. There was little subtlety to him in this moment. As always, he was clad in the signature dark robes of the Sith. He had made no efforts to mask who he was. Everything about him was a challenge to anyone around who felt so inclined. Everything about him suggested that those challenges were swiftly crushed. The imposing presence of the man had more to it than just his horns and red skin with its fierce and tribal-like facial markings. His eyes were cold and projected an aura of dread. It was the eyes of a conqueror not accustomed to defeat. Frequently he found he needed no other weapon.

Soon the scent of charred flesh reached his nose as well. It was not a smell unfamiliar to him. The broad-shouldered man stood at the entrance of the alleyway. In front of him lay burned corpses, and standing above them was a Zeltron. Her? Perhaps it was one of the amulet's owners on the ground, just having met an untimely demise. Or perhaps she was the carrier. If so she had something he wanted. He sensed the Force in her, but the amulet's presence clouded everything near.

"Their crime must have been great to warrant such an execution" his deep voice cut through the silence, announcing his presence if she had not noticed him already. "Or is this just your way of having fun?" his eyes scanned her, measuring her up while trying to take note of the weapons she carried. Was she a threat? Would she try to do the same to him? If so he would be ready. For now he was mostly curious. The Lord of Ruin was in no rush.

[member="Joza Perl"]

 

[Joza Perl]

Feeling another presence in her vicinity, Joza fought the savage snarl that threatened to rise in her throat. She’d been taken off guard momentarily, too caught up in the momentary euphoric rush of taking a life she believed deserved to perish. A Jedi was only supposed to kill if it was an absolute necessity, but Joza had lately been indifferent to death. Only if they had done something to merit it. Slavery hit far, far too close to home and she began to relish the deaths of what she deemed to be scum.

Spinning on her heel, she turned to face the newcomer. The combination of his height and dark presence caused her to bristle, but she did nothing but appraise him with a bright amber gaze. After a few moments, her upper lip curled into a vague smile upon realizing that he was doing the same. Her conservative black shroud covered everything but her face and hands, most of her weapons hidden within the folds. But one item was worn on the outside of that dark robe—an archaic looking talisman with a bright red gem set it gold. It stood out against the black backdrop of her clothes so much that it almost appeared to glow with malevolent energy. She’d picked it up off of one of her previous kills, but had no idea that it bore any power other than looking pretty.

“Two birds, one stone.” Addressing the imposing Togruta, she inwardly cringed. Had she just singed his friends? Had she taken things too far this time? Leveling her gaze onto him, Joza drew a mental map of her surroundings. She’d have to either go through him, or scale the high walls of the alleyway to leave. “What do you want?”

[member="Darth Pyrrhus"]

 

[Darth Pyrrhus]

Two birds one stone? Hard to argue with that. Now that was just effective time management. Pyrrhus could appreciate that. Fortunately for her, the men were of no significance to him. They were not on his radar. He did not care whether they lived, died, or even burned. "That appears to have been one hot stone" his head gestured towards the charred bodies. Her two birds had turned into grilled chicken. The Togruta's tone suggested more that he was amused than upset.

Darth Pyrrhus started slowly closing the distance between them with short, well-placed steps. There wasn't much information to be gained from simply looking at her. Those robes did not give much away. He had no idea whether what faced him was a Jedi, Sith, or other, although he found the first option unlikely. One thing did catch his attention though, and it made him brush aside other concerns. She had the amulet. He could see it plain and clear, hanging around her neck. Piecing together what he saw and what he sensed with his mind's eye, there was no doubt in his mind. This was what he had been searching for.

"That's a fine necklace you've got there" he complimented her, though the darkness that surrounded the man suggested he was not simply making idle chatter. He avoided answering her second question. "Where did you get it? Can I have a look?" the question was not so much necessary for him to acquire the amulet. It was more so to figure out through which manner he would acquire it. Diplomacy or force.

[member="Joza Perl"]

 

[Joza Perl]

Joza arched a brow, hands falling into the loose fabric of her robes and disappearing all together. Though the motion might have appeared threatening, she did not reach for any proposed weapons—yet. He was certainly here for something, she could feel it—but what? Was he perhaps a friend of Orcus? This situation would likely end most unfortunately from her if he indeed was.

“This?” Surprise flashed across her face for a moment, and then narrowed into a wary semi-glare as he approached. Joza fought the urge to back against the wall, instead holding her ground as she steadily brought a hand up to brush her fingers against the amulet, so as to not suggest that she was making any aggressive moves. “Oh? Will you give it back?” Her tone took on an innocent falsetto, but it was clear that she was mocking him. “I found it on one of their friends a few nights ago.” She tilted her head to the side to indicate the pair of grilled chickens. In truth, Joza did not know if they were from the same slaving faction or not, but slavers were all the same to her regardless of affiliation.

[member="Darth Pyrrhus"]

 

[Darth Pyrrhus]

Pyrrhus' pace slowed when she reached into her robes. In his mind she was reaching for a weapon. Maybe she'd pull out a lightsaber or perhaps she was pointing a blaster pistol at him in this very moment. His left hand hung low, in an uneasy rest by his left hip. Though his lightsaber was within his robes too, his were kept more open. He imagined he'd be fast enough to react if he needed to.

"No. I don't plan to" he spoke plainly. He felt no need for ruses or deceptions. He would let her know what he wanted and discourage her from trying to work against his goals. That being said, as was often the case with these artefacts, their owner were very reluctant to part with them. Perhaps it would come to blows, or perhaps another opportunity would present itself. The Sith Lord smirked at her mocking tone, for a moment showing those sharp Togruta teeth. Did she know who she was playing with?

His right hand lifted slightly. With the Force he grabbed at the amulet, but gently so. He did not try to pull it from her, but simply had it floating in the air in front of her. The artefact was still attached to her neck. "Such a pretty thing" Pyrrhus was toying with her. But the move also had another purpose, in serving as a distraction, while the Mentalist reached out with his tendrils to probe at her defences. He would not make any offensive moves, and he tried to move undetected. This was more an attempt to map out her mental defences in case he did want to make an offensive move.

[member="Joza Perl"]

 

[Joza Perl]

Both brows rose this time, then quickly slanted downwards. Her suspicion was evident, and had she been a different person, Joza would have tossed him the amulet and made her escape. Whoever he was, this man tickled her danger sense and she could not ignore that. There was an ever-growing part of her that delighted in dangerous situations, and though there was nothing overtly hostile about this Togruta, she could tell that he was extended his senses to feel her out. She knew not to what extent—Togruta were natural hunters, weren’t they?—but she raised as many mental defenses as she could. Which was to say, not a lot, in her current state. But she knew he was there, and she wanted him to know that.

Joza frowned as he caught the trinket in a Force grip and lifted it in a delicate manner. If he wanted, he could simply snatch in from her neck and be done with it. But he didn’t. While Joza was not attached to the necklace, she figured it must have some sort of capability. She’d yet to discover it, but apparently it was important enough to be sought after by another Force wielder. Though, she didn’t care much for artifacts, even the one around her neck. She’d likely planned to sell it. However, the fact that this man was interested in it made her less likely to part with it. At least, not without some persuasion.

“You’ve got me cornered.” The hand that had been on the amulet began to raise out, and she sought out the Togruta’s presence, attempting to stun him into a catatonic state with the Force. “Now what will you do?” Her voice was low, purring almost.

[member="Darth Pyrrhus"]

 

[Darth Pyrrhus]

To his surprise she was not only aware of his presence at the edge of her mind, but she was also erecting defences to keep him out. The Sith Lord smiled. Clever girl. She was trained in the ways of the Force. Pyrrhus did not push back against her defences, though he did not withdraw entirely either. He was lurking on the edges of her fortifications.

Ironically, Pyrrhus assumed she was aware of what she possessed. Because in the event that she didn't, she might've handed it over more easily. The more he let her know how interested he was in the trinket and how far he'd go for it, the more she would realise how valuable it was.

"I do" the Togruta said confidently, once more starting to take steps in her direction. Once more he stopped. The Zeltron's hand raised and his feelers on the edges of her mind alerted him to her now going on the offensive, seeking out his presence. Now it was the Sith Lord's turn to put up his own defences, raising a barrier of the Force to defend against her attempts to stun him.

No blades had been drawn, no punches thrown. But there was no doubt that a battle had started. Their tone was cordial, almost flirtatious. It was hard to tell from the outside that both sought to overpower the other through the Force. "Now? Now I will take what is mine" there was no hostility in his voice, but the confidence was unmistakable.

The Togruta raised both hands. With the motion came dark tendrils, growing out of the shadows cast in the alley. They were fast, and before long would wrap themselves around arms and legs in a tight grip, holding the woman locked in place. "I would recommend not resisting too much." the words came out with an almost polite smile, but there was no doubt that it was a threat. Technically speaking, nothing really happened. They were still the only ones in the alley, and no dark monsters had risen from the shadows. The Lord of Ruin was weaving his illusions for her, in attempt to make her believe that he had trapped her with some Sith Sorcery. But he didn't feel like telling her that.

[member="Joza Perl"]

 

[Joza Perl]

Despite how carefully she’d been watching him, Joza was unprepared for the dark tendrils that lashed out at her. They twined around her arms and legs, securing her quickly before she could raise a barrier or grasp one of her sabers. Grunting in surprise, she struggled briefly before realizing that movement only allowed them to tighten their grip on her limbs. “Where have I heard that line before?” She mused, a tickle of a laugh in her voice despite being restrained. Joza had issues with being physically bound, but she worked past them for the moment in favor of something more interesting.

Her eyes flashed as she looked up at the approaching Togruta, a mix of contempt and curiosity swirling in green irises. Nearly every time she’d visited the smuggler’s moon for whatever purpose, she’d had an interesting encounter. This was where she’d met her father and eventually her friend Solan Charr, but it was also where she’d been swept up into slavery by Cadoc Raal.

“I find that resistance makes it more fun for both parties.” As she spoke, her eyes would nearly glaze over as she poured her focus in Malacia, attempting to throw him off balance and hopefully, concentration as well.

[member="Darth Pyrrhus"]

 

[Darth Pyrrhus]

Pyrrhus had to smirk. Even under pressure, she did not succumb to fear. The woman was more entertaining than the strong, silent, emotionally detached Jedi. Though bound and restrained, she found the time for sarcasm and witty retorts. She was right. "Agreed" Resistance made it more fun for both parties.

"So, by all means. Resist" he issued the challenge. He enjoyed challenges, and somehow he imagined she did too. The Togruta's content smirk vanished quicker than he had expected, however. Well that wasn't what he had in mind. He felt that mild sensation of nausea rising within him. She was to blame for this. He recognised that he could let it run his course, maintain his illusion and see who broke first, or he would have to combat it but risk giving up the illusion. The illusion had been a basic thing, not meant to break her but simply be an efficient way to hold her in one place. It did not distract her, but allowed her to engage with him. It would appear he had underestimated her. Malacia or no, for her he would need a little something extra.

He tried doing both at once, but found himself only doing a mediocre job at both. Unacceptable. The dark tendrils disintegrated and vanished from her body simultaneously as the fires of the Dark Side purged his systems and reclaimed his body. The Sith Lord threw up a light barrier of the Force to defend against other incursions. Although he enjoyed the simple things and keeping it basic, it seemed as if it was time to put in a little more effort.

He had been scoping out the defences of her mind before. He had only been observing then, withdrawing when she had noticed his presence. Now came the assault. He unleashed a dark wave through the Force, as he attempted to force himself into her mind. The wave exploded into a hundred dark tendrils that would crawl across her mind, violently assault and seek to gain entry, poke at her defences, grab onto any thought or emotion they could come across. Attach, corrupt, spread. He did not care to be gentle. If successful in gaining entry there was so much he could do.

[member="Joza Perl"]

 

[Joza Perl]

Now it was Joza’s turn to feel a flash of triumph. Splitting his concentration to will the effects of the nausea away cause the tentacles to vanish, and smirk to curl her lips. He was confident but not seemingly arrogant, calm, and above all…dangerous. One of Joza’s most exploitable weaknesses was her lust for risky situations, as Pyrrhus would come to find out.

Her mild victory only lasted for a moment though, a look of surprise coming over her face as her mind was assaulted by dozens upon dozens of dark hands, seeking out her emotions, memories, anything she felt strongly about, anything that could be used against her. The Zeltron froze in place for a moment before teetering back against the wall, a mix of shock and disgust on her face as she tried valiantly to force the Sith from her mind. But mentally she had been weakened, refusing to believe she was broken of all things. Pyrrhus would find flashes of rage, shame and fear, all over her most recent actions. But her descent into darkness had begun at the end of her apprenticeship, years ago.

He would also find her desires, her vicious passion for life and obsession with the forbidden. Things that veered Joza from the path of the Jedi.

Realizing that she could not win this mental battle against a more composed, skillful opponent, she tried a more physical approach. Snapping the fingers of her right hand, a thin torrent of flame would clumsily spout from her palm, intending for the Togruta’s chest but making contact just with the edge of the barrier before dissolving. Joza ground her teeth, the mental invasion making it difficult for her to concentrate.

Pathetic…!

 

[Darth Pyrrhus]

Once more the tables were turning. He felt himself gaining the upper-hand, though he did not grow comfortable because of it. Just like before he knew it could easily flip around again. She was resourceful. Perhaps this was a weakness to exploit. Perhaps she'd be halted, but overcome it. He could do nothing but press on.

In his assault he got a peek into her brain. Nothing specific, just flashes and images here and there as he rapidly tried to assault her mind from multiple angles. There was a mix of thoughts and emotions, all thrown together into a bowl of confusion. Though he did not know the in-depth details, he felt as if she was struggling with some sort of identity crisis, her world and values changing, with the girl struggling to keep up and adapt. She had been a Jedi, but one who danced with darkness. Though light, with the desire to do and be good, there was a pull to the Dark Side within her that was hard to resist.

She was... Intriguing. The good-natured and helpful man that he was, he saw potential in this situation. More than just snatch the artefact, which he still would, he could help push her over the edge. Show her the dark. Encourage her to embrace it. 'You know how to defeat me. Why do you hold back?' his loud voice echoed through her mind. His lips did not move, words did not escape his lips. His voice transcended such things and simply manifested itself in her head. The booming voice sought to deafen all other sound, a useful distraction while the Mentalist continued to do his work.

'Unless the darkness. Use your anger' he goaded her. She'd doubtless heard this line of persuasion before. It was fine that she wouldn't buy it, but she would be thinking about it. And when confronted with the futility of her situation, which he would try to expose her to, then perhaps would she cling to it as a last line of defence. When all other methods failed, would she call upon the Dark Side to drive him off? He just might let her, as if to encourage the perception that it was stronger, that it was superior. 'Joza' he said her name, if only to taunt her with the fact that he had gained knowledge of it. If he knew that, what else had he seen?

Pyrrhus could feel the amulet drawing on his power, drinking from the open fountain of hate and pain that he summoned to become his strength. It was feeding on it, and passing some of it onto Joza. This was the power of the amulet. For now he did not concern himself with it. His reserves were not humble.

Once more Pyrrhus would unleash an illusion upon her. This time however, it would be more aggressive. It would be stronger. As he already had gained some access to her mind, it allowed him to conjure the illusion from within, strengthen it both in intensity and in making it appear more real. To dispel it she would have to drive him out. That is to say if she managed to identify it as an illusion in the first place.

The Togruta hissed, flaunting his canine teeth as he launched himself towards her. Yet he did not jump nor did he run. In spectral-like fashion, he glided towards her, and quickly! The edges of his robe seemed to intertwine with the shadows themselves, its fabric closer to a dark smoke than actual textile. Of course, this was the illusion. The real Pyrrhus had not moved, and remained in full focus. The image he projected of himself, however, flew forwards with its hand outstretched, ready to grab her throat. As this was part of the illusion, it would wrap its cold, oppressive hands around her pipe and push her back towards the wall, lifting her feet only slightly off the ground. Moment of truth. Did she break, or did she awaken?

[member="Joza Perl"]

 

[Joza Perl]

The hand that had shot out towards Pyrrhus in a torrent of flame now scrabbled against the cold concrete of the wall behind her. Perhaps the realization that she was defiantly cornered would have reached her mind had the Mentalist not woven his way so thoroughly into her thoughts. His words were unpleasant and agonizing, not necessarily because of their message but because of the way he commanded her attention towards him. Right now there was nothing to distract her from his presence booming in her head like a loudspeaker.

She knew what he was doing, but damnit she wasn’t strong or sound enough to force him out. All she could do was try and fight him back, and perhaps catch him off guard if she could manage. But he’d deflected her subtle assaults until now, so what more could she do. When he urged her to sink further into the abyss, her teeth ground together and her eyes began to unfocus. As tempting as it was, the Zeltron wouldn’t let herself fall any further than she already had. She clung to the bits of determination and hope that peppered her mind. But she’d slipped once before, and the darkness the crept at the edge of her mind slowly started to close in. Her name, the bastard knew her name. Of course he did.

Don’t let him use that against you.

Suddenly, he was upon her—gliding in a terrifying, ethereal manner. Joza only had enough time for her hand to brush the hilt of her saber—hidden beneath those obscuring black folds—before the illusion latched his hands around her throat. At the moment, she hadn’t quite grasped that it was not the real Togruta, but her mind didn’t have the time to sit there and figure out what was going on while she was allegedly being strangled to death. Instead, she reacted, a snarl tearing from her throat and yellow corrupt eyes blazing.

Quick as lightning, her hovering hand retrieved her saber hilt and ignited the blade. Instead of brandishing it in warning or attempting to sever his hands, she jammed the blade directly into where his gut would be and twisted upwards sharply, aiming to slice from navel to right shoulder.

[member="Darth Pyrrhus"]

 

[Darth Pyrrhus]

She was fighting him. Resisting. Their dance was an amusing one and the Togruta was having fun. Was she? Most likely not. Oh well. Perhaps she would come around. And he felt the temptation within her, the urge to kark everything and do whatever necessary to strike him down. Now that he was getting a closer look at that fierceness, he was even tempted to release her from any kind of mental trickery and see what she'd do. Unleash her.

Yellow, corrupt eyes blazing. Excellent. That was precisely what he wanted to see. The blade entered into his gut, meeting little resistance. The move was accompanied by the shrieking sound that sounded more like a demon being gutted than a Togruta. His mid-section tore open. Pyrrhus' face twisted, and his jaw extended impossibly wide as it looked for a moment as if he intended to bite her face off.

All the while this happened, two charred corpses from the alley began to rise and walk towards her. When they drew close the image of Pyrrhus evaporated into a thick, black smoke, that rushed up towards her, entering mouth and nose. A bit of symbolism, perhaps, that the darkness was inside of her. The enemies she thought she had slayed now stood on either side of her, strong arms grabbing her arms and holding her in place. This too, naturally, was an illusion. But as long as he held her mind the illusion would stay strong.

Though the image was no doubt unsettling, there were far worse horrors he could have unleashed on her. Yet he did not. He was still toying with the idea of letting her loose to see what she'd do. Perhaps he would once he had what he wanted. He was playing with her. Even serious Sith needed to amuse themselves somehow, right? Though it was a risky business, taking chances and leaving himself exposed like this.

The real Pyrrhus emerged within view, standing right where he had moments before the spectral version of himself had launched at her. Smirking to himself, the Lord of Ruin walked towards her with slow steps, drawing closer and closer. He would keep going until he was right in front of her if left unopposed. She was within arm's reach. And so was the amulet... "Are you having fun resisting?" he referenced back to what she had said earlier, in as casual a tone as he could muster

[member="Joza Perl"]

 

[Joza Perl]

Joza recoiled, her head bumping against the wall at the unexpected shrill cry and sudden unhinging of Pyrrhus’ jaw. The fact that her blade had met little resistance did not go unnoticed by her, though she’d yet to fully grasp that she was dealing with an illusion, not the real Sith Lord. Out of her peripheral vision, the singed corpses rose in unison, walking towards the Zeltron with haunting movements. Perhaps she would have done something about them before they’d reached her, but at that point the illusion of the Togruta vanished into a dense smoke that assaulted her mouth and nose. Joza shook her head wildly, swatting at the black clouds with her free hand as if to dispel it from her insides.

“…!” A surprised noise wrenched from her throat through gritted teeth as she found herself once again restrained. These aren’t real. They can’t be. And yet, the tight grip they had on her arms felt very real. When the real Pyrrhus approached her, Joza ceased her struggling for a moment to analyze him with a critical, suspicious eye. Was this Togruta an illusion as well? She’d have to treat him like the others, then.

“You sure know how to show a girl a good time.” Sarcasm was woven tightly in her words, and at once she deactivated her saber while activating the Makrosian light shield embedded in her prosthetic right arm. The shield would rip through both synthflesh and the cloth of her robes, effectively slicing the illusions arm before it barreled towards Pyrrhus to slam him in the face. She would not attack the other illusion holding her left arm just yet if he was still there. All she needed was to have a single arm free for now.

“You know, something tells me that this isn’t just about my new necklace.”

[member="Darth Pyrrhus"]

 

[Darth Pyrrhus]

Pyrrhus was enjoying himself. He couldn't lie about it, not to himself. There were few things more entertaining than toying with a Jedi, trapped in one of his illusions. Inside her mind he could make her see anything, experience anything. For the moment she distracted him from the amulet. He was starting to feel in control. It was when that feeling of safety started to crawl up on him that alarm bells should have been going off. Those were the moments in which openings were revealed to his adversary.

"I pride myself on it" the Sith Lord said, failing to withhold a smug smirk. He did so enjoy Jedi sarcasm. Of course, he wasn't expecting the little trick that came after. The shield she produced was one he had not seen in action before, but he quickly deduced it was not something he wanted to make contact with his skin. The illusion was doing fine enough on its own, doing a little mock dance as it pretended to be bothered by the strike before reinforcing its grip on her, its arm materialising again. The Togruta was not so privileged.

Pyrrhus ducked to the ground, dropping straight down to the floor. Only barely did he miss the charring touch of the light shield. He had been so close. A moment longer and he would've reached out to snatch the amulet before continuing his game, but alas, he had lost his chance. Now he needed to produce another. Rolling backwards, the Togruta quickly bounced back up on his feet, his leap powered by the Force. His expression seemed to suggest great distaste for what had just happened, as if offended that he had spent a brief moment on the ground.

With all this dodging and re-positioning, he broke his channelling focus on maintaining dominion over her mind and projecting the illusions upon her. Whatever remained of the black smoke was gone, and the corpses simply evaporated. If she looked further down the alley she would be able to see them on the ground where she had left them. They were still very much dead.

This time around it appeared the Togruta had decided that the battle of minds and the Force had gone on for long enough. A curved lightsaber hilt decorated with a layer of smooth bone ontop of the grip, found its way into his grasp. She was right. This had turned into more than just her new necklace. It had become an opportunity to break and corrupt a Jedi balancing on the edge of darkness and light. However she was quickly standing at risk of making it more personal.

"You're right. What is your name, Jedi?" he asked, though his voice let his burning malice and change of tone sink through. 'Jedi' was a word difficult to utter without drenching it in venom. He wondered if she'd have any reaction to being called by it, good or bad. For now, his lightsaber remained deactivated.

[member="Joza Perl"]

 

[Joza Perl]

Joza grunted, illusions forgotten as the Togruta dodged the shield to the face. He was skilled. Moreso than her. In her rage and fear, this did not sit well with her. She lowered the shield, decreasing it’s diameter as she did so. And when that hilt found its way to her hand, so did Joza’s eyes. She noted the curvature of the grip, and it was enough to cause her lips to twitch upwards in a sign of a smile. With a bit more confidence in her stance, she switched saber hilts at her belt—retaliator hilt for a curved one similar to his, sans bone. Would Pyrrhus prove to be a saber duelist like her, with a preference for Makashi?

Twirling the hilt in her hand, she cocked her head to the side. Saberplay was more her style, more her element, though she was well aware that she could be out classed. But that alone was not enough to stop her from deepening this already intriguing encounter. Though centered, she was still a bit off balance from the dark sided energies flowing through her.

“You already know who I am. Do you have a name, Sith?” She fought to keep from practically spitting the words out like bitter tea, referencing when he’d projected her own name into her mind. “Let us see if you are as good of a duelist as you are scum.” Another twirl of her saber, this time with the blade ignited to bring it out to the side in a flourish. In one swift motion she would be upon him had not try to block or stun her with the Force beforehand, aiming a sharp jab towards the center of his chest.

[member="Darth Pyrrhus"]

 

[Darth Pyrrhus]

It had been a while since Pyrrhus had been challenged in a proper spar. Would today be the day? Perhaps. It was good though, an exercise he welcomed. The alternative was grim, and involved growing rusty. Of course even though he did not fight Jedi or other Sith on the daily, he did dedicate hours of his days to saber practice. It was not enough to be good. In order to be a Sith, earn his Darth title, he would have to be the best.

He took note of her curved hilt as well. Interesting. He gave a chuckle. There was too much tension, too much anger within him for him to be able to simply smirk. Instead it was expended with that brief laugh. Though perhaps condescending it was not dismissive. It was a recognition that like him, she had a preference for the more elegant things. Finesse. Pyrrhus felt he had held the advantage in their mind games, yet he had not broken her. How would they compare when it came to saber combat?

Everyone had a name. Some preferred to keep theirs secret, some flaunted theirs. And there were some whose name was not even worth mentioning. "I am Darth Pyrrhus" the name was presented much like a challenge, with a little extra emphasis on 'Darth'. There was some pride attached to that. She would know his name. He did not fear knowledge of him spreading. Let them know him. Let them fear him. Let them seek revenge. It would force those with vengeance in their hearts to strive to become better so they could strike him down, just as it would force him to keep improving to prevent them from catching up to him.

"I am Sith. You will know the difference." he hissed in return, clearly not pleased with being called 'scum'. The Sith were so much more, and he would punish her for her insolence. The anger welled up within him and he nurtured it, allowing it to blend in with that freezing cold hatred for all things Jedi. Joza leaped against him. As she did so his own saber ignited in his left hand, bathing his dark robes in its lava red. Pyrrhus would move against her to meet the blow. Keeping her blade on the outside of his, he would meet it in a parry and guide it to his side. Simultaneously the Togruta continued his advance, stepping in to lift his right elbow to slam towards her face. For now he would keep to the fluid moves and aggressive counters of Djem So.

[member="Joza Perl"]

 

[Joza Perl]

The darkness will protect you, but the light will save you. It was something Joza had heard long ago, a phrase that echoed in her mind often and even now. But it was not enough to save her, nor did she want to be saved. Right now, in this moment, she intended to sink further into the murky depths of the dark side, drinking in its perverse power. When it came to addiction, the young Zeltron often struggled between what was right, and what felt good. Too often did one choice look much more attractive than the other. What good was life if you couldn’t indulge yourself every so often?

At her core there was fear. Fear that things would never be able to return to the way they were, hidden under layers of anxiety and desire. When she heard the anger in Pyrrhus’ voice, something in her gave way to a flicker of a smirk on her face. Perhaps she would regret the action, but she couldn’t see much beyond the scope of tonight.

“You are indeed Sith.” The pride she felt emanating from him was unmistakable. Seldom did she meet a Sith who did not advertise it in one way or another, and typically said Sith didn’t last long. She did not falter as he shunted her saber to the side with his own, azure and crimson blade producing dull sparks as they clashed, but simply deactivated her saber and dropped to the ground to avoid taking an elbow to the face. She landed with one leg crouched beneath her, the other extending quickly to try and sweep kick his legs before she tucked into a roll towards the Togruta’s right side. Unlike the Sith Lord, Joza was not afraid to spend some time on the ground if necessary.

Springing upwards, she used the momentum from her roll to launch herself at Pyrrhus, blade now activated in her left hand. The sapphire beam would aim to cleave him from hip to shoulder. “I certainly hope you will show me the difference. It's rude to keep a lady waiting.” Her tongue snaked from her mouth, tip brushing along the outline of her lips in anticipation before withdrawing.

[member="Darth Pyrrhus"]

 

[Darth Pyrrhus]

The Jedi was slowly giving in to temptation, slowly becoming less and less Jedi. She was getting a taste of the Dark Side, its presence never leaving much in thanks to both Pyrrhus and the amulet she wore. It surrounded her, she bathed in it. She knew its power, she had felt its touch before. Giving in would be so easy... So rewarding. Instant gratification was a powerful foe for anyone's willpower.

You are indeed Sith, she said. Good of you to notice, he thought. To be called Sith was never something he would take as an insult. Those who said it with that as its intended effect did not truly understand what it meant. Pyrrhus, of course, would be happy to offer his services and inform them. It was, after all, for a good cause.

The Zeltron beauty dropped and rolled out of the reach of his elbow. He had not made contact yet, but soon he would, he was sure of it. Then in the next moment, sooner than he had expected, the counter came. She didn't simply roll away to safety, she stayed close and fought. It was just barely that he had managed to make a short jump over the swinging leg that sought to take him to the ground. Before long she was upon him again, making good use of aggression to ensure that he couldn't come at her while she was on the ground.

Pyrrhus brought his saber to a diagonal block with a two-handed grip. The line was facing in opposite direction to hers. Their blades locked, giving the fighters pause to look at each other and of course exchange a line or two of insults or challenges, until one of them either gained control over the lock or pulled away. Her words her challenging, provocatively casual and sarcastic. He smirked. She was fun. It was hard not to be drawn in by the dance they were dancing. And the way her tongue ever so lightly brushed over her full lips before withdrawing sent his mind into places it should not be during the heat of battle. Her Zeltron allure was unmistakable. Was she the one playing with him now? Well, you know what they say about playing with fire

"Did the Jedi never teach you patience?" he challenged in a playful tone. "I will show you. Enjoy the suspense while you can. You will break" he promised, the smirk still very much present on his expression. His right hand removed itself from the grip of the saber. With a subtle flick of the wrist he called the Force to him to disturb her balance by pulling at her feet, pulling them towards him. Simultaneously he would push, hard, against her while maintaining the saberlock, stepping forwards. Worst case scenario, nothing changed and they remained locked in the same position. Maybe he could perhaps seize some advantage or opening in her guard from disrupting her balance. Best case scenario, however, he caught her by surprise and had her fall on her back. Maybe she'd even tumble backwards and stumble on those conservative robes she was wearing? If that was the case he would quickly seek to follow up with a swing of his lightsaber as she fell, though the aim would not be for her, but the hilt of her lightsaber. Without it challenging him would become all the more...Well. Challenging.

[member="Joza Perl"]