Alkor Centaris
Son of Liberty
When [member="Rayliav'enci"] assured the lot of them that there would be no strife from their presence, Alkor visibly relaxed a bit. He allowed a curt nod in reply, though the tension remained far from abated. The emotions that ran rampant in this bar were conflicted; while the Jedi Master emanated a presence that soothed and calmed, the turbulence that existed all around them created a wake that rippled outward and washed over every man and woman in the room. The peace that resulted was tenuous, born from trepidation and anxiety rather than warmth and gentility. The darkness- even carefully stifled- had potential to shatter even the fondest of moments. "Many thanks for your kind words, and for the alcohol, Master Jedi," he bowed his head graciously. "That makes two in one night I haven't had to pay for. This is turning into a good day." As he spoke, the tension seemed to lift and the negativity stilled, ever so slightly.
The draw of the dark side was alluring, especially to one who skirted it so closely. In the throes of combat, or in moments of lapsed judgment, it screamed in his ears and beckoned him home. His hands folded neatly in his lap as he centered his mind and drove back the ever creeping wellspring of emptiness. His eyes moved slowly over [member="Keira Ticon"] as she spoke, of the path that she once walked and how she deviated, and of the possibility of an early death.
In an instant, his efforts to stave it off ceased.
He recalled the chill, and the void that followed it. Screams that turned to gurgles as water filled his lungs stood at the forefront of his mind now. Another time, another place, Alkor had experienced that sensation. "Death?" his gaze hardened on the woman as he regarded her words of warning with only this: a question.
In the timeless expanse that was the universe, a lifetime was simply a blink. Eternity existed in the lapses that came before, and the silence that followed. There existed a fear in most men of the unknown. Of not living. He remembered that panic. Images of sunlight just beyond a watery threshold flooded back as he recalled his drowning. The massive hands of his master held him under as he struggled in vain to surface, to fill his lungs with air. When the darkness filled his mind, Alkor met Death.
Then, he was ripped back into the light.
Alkor still tasted the hopelessness of that day as thoughts of despair and agony twisted his stomach. He banished them with a smile, and his expression softened. "Death is but a transitory stage," he spoke quietly. "There is nothing about it to fear. I do appreciate your concern, though, ma'am."
His fingers closed around the glass as he returned it hastily to his lips. His eyes closed once more. Her assessment was not far from apt, however. He knew just what price came with the darkness. To let it take hold of your soul was a fool's errand. Sith drank in power at the expense of their own humanity, and of their very lives. In exchange for a fleeting sense of freedom, they bought themselves chains. In the end, it was the same as every other religion.
Fear, darkness, power, and the force were all mighty in their own right. They provided an efficient means to a given end. "But I won't bend your ear about philosophy, because like you said- bars are places for drinking, and frankly, that's why I came here in the first place. Can I interest you in joining us for a drink?"
The draw of the dark side was alluring, especially to one who skirted it so closely. In the throes of combat, or in moments of lapsed judgment, it screamed in his ears and beckoned him home. His hands folded neatly in his lap as he centered his mind and drove back the ever creeping wellspring of emptiness. His eyes moved slowly over [member="Keira Ticon"] as she spoke, of the path that she once walked and how she deviated, and of the possibility of an early death.
In an instant, his efforts to stave it off ceased.
He recalled the chill, and the void that followed it. Screams that turned to gurgles as water filled his lungs stood at the forefront of his mind now. Another time, another place, Alkor had experienced that sensation. "Death?" his gaze hardened on the woman as he regarded her words of warning with only this: a question.
In the timeless expanse that was the universe, a lifetime was simply a blink. Eternity existed in the lapses that came before, and the silence that followed. There existed a fear in most men of the unknown. Of not living. He remembered that panic. Images of sunlight just beyond a watery threshold flooded back as he recalled his drowning. The massive hands of his master held him under as he struggled in vain to surface, to fill his lungs with air. When the darkness filled his mind, Alkor met Death.
Then, he was ripped back into the light.
Alkor still tasted the hopelessness of that day as thoughts of despair and agony twisted his stomach. He banished them with a smile, and his expression softened. "Death is but a transitory stage," he spoke quietly. "There is nothing about it to fear. I do appreciate your concern, though, ma'am."
His fingers closed around the glass as he returned it hastily to his lips. His eyes closed once more. Her assessment was not far from apt, however. He knew just what price came with the darkness. To let it take hold of your soul was a fool's errand. Sith drank in power at the expense of their own humanity, and of their very lives. In exchange for a fleeting sense of freedom, they bought themselves chains. In the end, it was the same as every other religion.
Fear, darkness, power, and the force were all mighty in their own right. They provided an efficient means to a given end. "But I won't bend your ear about philosophy, because like you said- bars are places for drinking, and frankly, that's why I came here in the first place. Can I interest you in joining us for a drink?"
