Darth Mortyra
Tag: Brandyn Sal-Soren
Meya once again said absolutely nothing while he spoke. When her eyes finally locked with his again, he would actually find a reaction there, though subtle like it usually was with Meya. It was the smallest tilt of her head. The faintest shift behind her goldens. Realisation. Something unexpected dawning on her.
“You know, it has been a very long time since I’ve enjoyed the company of a stranger so quickly.”
It was likely not what he expected her to say, not after accusing her of gathering information to manipulate him, or after his minor lash-out. He had given her plenty of information through his behavior, but not everything she wanted to know. So... perhaps her reaction would make her seem insane, but there was no teasing in it, either. It was simply the truth as she understood it.
“You should also be aware that I have ordered my men not to lay a single finger on you.” The orb turned slowly between her fingers again. “You are mine for the time being.”
And then she waited for the faintest change in the air. Something almost imperceptible, a sensation rather than a smell. It wasn’t the Force, it was the strange biological ability carried by her Sephi ancestry. A tool her body possessed, an instinctive defence passed down through generations, capable of rendering another being unconscious.
If Brandyn resisted the sensation, through whatever means, she would keep watching him closely, adjusting her plans. Maybe he would lash out at her if he felt something off.
If she was actually lucky and unconsciousness claimed him quickly, Meya would simply catch him rather than allow him to strike the floor. Though with his size compared to her lithe frame, she would find herself on the floor as well, his head coming to rest in her lap, her knees folded under her. Black hair and golden chains drapped around her rivory face as she stared down at him.
She would not kill him. The next step, however, presented a possible problem. Keeping him unconscious for as long as she required could prove considerably more difficult than putting him down in the first place. She had no idea what his abilities were.
Brandyn would eventually wake to an unfamiliar sensation across the left side of his face. Meya had worked on it. Marked his flesh. She wasn’t certain if what she did to him was permanent, or if in the long term it only would make it worse.
He'd be lying in a bed within the medical bay aboard the ship, not chained or bound in any way. The room had been altered enough that it was no longer quite the sterile environment he might have expected. Several instruments had been moved aside to make room for equipment Meya had apparently decided she needed. Small containers of liquids and powdered materials sat arranged across a nearby work surface, while thin metal instruments rested in precise rows beside them.
Meya was in the room too. Standing at the opposite side, partly absorbed in the small apparatus held between her fingers.
He'd be lying in a bed within the medical bay aboard the ship, not chained or bound in any way. The room had been altered enough that it was no longer quite the sterile environment he might have expected. Several instruments had been moved aside to make room for equipment Meya had apparently decided she needed. Small containers of liquids and powdered materials sat arranged across a nearby work surface, while thin metal instruments rested in precise rows beside them.
Meya was in the room too. Standing at the opposite side, partly absorbed in the small apparatus held between her fingers.
