Warm Blood

[Kieran Erith]

In the mirror of her room, in the middle of the Sith Academy on Bastion, Esther Nova studied her wounds. Grazes, scratches in several places- those disappeared quickly. The bruise across her cheekbone was fading, swapped for a busted lip. Worth it. Esther threw more punches than she took.

But she took her hits all the same. The initial onslaught of you fight like a common criminal, Nova had faded after the first few weeks at the Academy (it was right on the money, in truth. It had been necessary once, and now it wasn't. When she had to change, she would) but you fell down the same however you fought. Esther felt each fall more acutely than the last, and she remembered each more carefully than the last. Trained, learned what she'd done wrong and how to do it right until she could see the right answer in her dreams.

She rarely wanted to, but Esther knew she had to. Not for survival, for spite--well, perhaps partially--but because fighting well meant learning to use the Force. And she could go anywhere and find that fighting like a criminal was all that she needed, but training in the Force she couldn't get somewhere else.

Maw knew she'd tried.

The hallways were cloaked in black and would've each looked identical in daylight. Esther moved unfazed by either setback, quieter than was normal of her as she found her way to a training chamber. She had work to do.

| [member="Darth Ophidia"] |​

 

[Darth Ophidia]

You fight like a criminal, Esther Nova.

She did indeed.

The desperate fighting style of a common criminal, clinging to live through pain and practicality, thinking only of winning in the now. She had fought like that herself, lived the life. It was one of the reasons why she had sought out the young woman's information, questioned the local staff about her progress and abilities, but found their information wanting. The Rattataki then proceeded to ensure that the room would be entirely vacated.

When Esther entered the training space, it was quiet. The door closed behind her and a voice cut the silence.

"Miss Esther Nova."

Darth Ophidia's form was suddenly in the middle of the formerly empty room. A tall slender form, hairless, ash-skinned, with eyes that burned like embers. Simple, charcoal-coloured clothes, loosely fitted, adorned her form, tied off with a sash of purple around her waist. Her hands were just about to finish tying off the end of a pair of white arm bindings for sparring.

The woman's skin was accented by black tattoos, like tentacles of ink wrapping around her limbs. Thin lines spread down her upper arms and the back of her neck, like the fingers of frost or a lightning bolt frozen in time and etched onto her skin.

"Something tells me you are displeased."

The Rattataki looked straight at the human with eyes so still they might as well be set in stone, unblinking, unwavering, yet not aggressive as of yet.

[member="Esther Nova"]

 

[Kieran Erith]

There was no masking her surprise. Esther stopped in her tracks, green eyes looking to either side looking for any other surprises before fixing on the ashen-skinned Sith in front of her. She didn't scare easily, but her instincts were knife-sharp - she knew when to be alert, to be scared, when to turn on her heel and run like the wind. And for now she knew if nothing else, to be careful.

But she met the Rattataki's eye as evenly as she could. Respectful to the extent she could muster, less uneasy than she should be.

Displeased. Well, she was right, although displeased was something of a safe bet with Esther. The redhead bit back a retort (she was rarely accused of thinking ahead, but this seemed like a good time to start), pausing to collect her words. She could lie, fabricate pretty words to gloss over whatever issue had brought the Sith lady here.

But it seemed fruitless.
Worse- it seemed dull.

"Yes," she responded simply, "and I came here to change it." She couldn't be displeased with her fellow Acolytes for trying to be better. She was, but that didn't mean much. But her displeasure was as much with herself for being lesser. And she could only change one of those things.

Esther paused, then hastily added to her reply.

"My lady."

| [member="Darth Ophidia"] |​

 

[Darth Ophidia]

[member="Esther Nova"]

Her head bobbed slightly in a faint nod as she listened to the Acolyte speak, and skimmed off the surface thoughts that enveloped her like an invisible smoke.

Pride, envy, desire - So many passions, and yet, jaded.

She waved away the formality with one of her bound hands. Practically removing the sound from the air. She liked such things to a point, but only if it was sincere. Acolyte Nova was anything but sincere in her respect. Ophidia recognised that as well. She recognised it all too well indeed.

"And when you are pleased, what will you do?"

She cocked her head to the side, her eyes narrowing and a hint of a smile creeping up along her lips. She gave just enough time for Esther to think, but not enough for her to fully form a substantial reply.

"Let me ask you something, Acolyte Nova."

A question she had asked many, but never found the perfect answer to. A question she herself had been asked, and asked herself so many times. Yet, there was no perfect answer to it. Ah, each answer was like a fingerprint, unique, incriminating, and capable of telling her oh so much.

"What makes you worthy?"

 

[Kieran Erith]

The first question she couldn't answer. It wasn't a question she thought she ever could answer- Esther couldn't imagine a day where she decided she was happy with how far she'd gone, how much she'd done. She would never run out of ways not to have reached perfection.

So she would never stop aiming higher.

But the second question- what made her worthy. That was a question she knew how to answer. Before the Sith, she'd been taught about worth as a value foisted onto different groups, and Esther had been part of the unworthy. Before the Sith, worth had been a lie to prove wrong and a rule to break.

This was something else- anyone might be worthy and nobody was before they proved it. And Esther knew with a certainty that she could. Words swirled in her mind, and she sorted them carefully.

"I can play by the rules," she began after a brief silence, "or bend them, or break them. I can lie or cheat or sacrifice. I'm not stopped by rules, or honor, or failure, or success."

Esther spoke more slowly now as she sorted the words in her head, but she sounded more sure of herself than ever.

| [member="Darth Ophidia"] |​

 

[Darth Ophidia]

A bark of laughter, or more like a loud, singular HA. Yet, she did not put herself above listening. This was, after all, about understanding this fascinating person she was looking at and investigating her potential worth to the Assassins.

"So, you put yourself, your own ambition above all else?"

Ophidia took a step to the side, her arms swinging down to her sides now that both the arm bands were tied off, her knuckles and wrists secure behind layers of tightly wrapped cloth. The movement made room for, and invited Esther to enter the room properly. The door had shut behind her and by now she would probably be familiar with the idea that turning your back on an inquisitive Sith was a bad idea.

"Or is there something you put first? What is it all for, Acolyte Nova?"

She sensed some pride coming off her as part of the renewed confidence in her words. Only the prideful or the arrogant said they could choose for themselves whether or not rules were worth following.

Though, if she wasn't stopped by failure or success, then she had simply not seen the true consequence of failure. This would be remedied in time.

[member="Esther Nova"]