Halketh
Libertas quae sera tamen
The miraluka nodded as the Knight spoke, understanding the sentiments to his words well. He had expected as much of an answer and for a moment, he considered navigating these waters as the man he had shut behind lock and key, rather than the political player he had come to fill the shoes of. There were only so many masks he could conceal his madness behind and strangely, he felt as if the Lord Executor could see right through him. The resolution of the man's gaze spoke enough of his steadiness, something the enigmatic warlord had come to admire and envy, in some ways. The light flickering from the edges of Rurik's Presence gleamed brightly in the periphery of his mind's eye, urging his reconsideration.
It was only after he drew a sharp breath of the frigid air that he found the order for his words.
"For a time I called Coruscant my home," he began, trailing his gloved fingers along the edges of the railing before them both, "perhaps the best I had come to know. Before that is ancient history, like for much of my people. I was plucked from the vine to be shaped into a tool to propagate ideals the silvered men and women high in their council seats deemed righteous." Halketh kept his head forward as he spoke on. "Needless to say, that was no place for my head to rest easily. I was too anxious to gaze beyond the rigidity of convention to achieve what it was I wished for myself, as simple as it was then." He sighed, "Things are always so simple when we reflect."
The Vulture tilted his head slightly, scattering his breeze-blown strands to the left. "I came into my own when I set out on my own. The jaws of loss found me and for a time, swallowed me whole before spitting me back out a changed man. I reveled in knowledge long forgotten and found my place in the musty bowels of places forgotten by most. Sorcery. Huh." He lifted a hand, relaxing the tension of the cords beneath his glove to demonstrate the nasty tremor his dark magics had dealt in permanent scar to his stability. "The Sith hunted me just as the Jedi did when I was younger, seeking to do just as they had- an asset for the chaos they think they want. I found refuge when the the Iron Sun rose and solace, home even here, where most saw nothing."
A familiar chill washed over him, forcing him to shudder and he scowled briefly, an expression left bear as an old wound agitated.
It was only after he drew a sharp breath of the frigid air that he found the order for his words.
"For a time I called Coruscant my home," he began, trailing his gloved fingers along the edges of the railing before them both, "perhaps the best I had come to know. Before that is ancient history, like for much of my people. I was plucked from the vine to be shaped into a tool to propagate ideals the silvered men and women high in their council seats deemed righteous." Halketh kept his head forward as he spoke on. "Needless to say, that was no place for my head to rest easily. I was too anxious to gaze beyond the rigidity of convention to achieve what it was I wished for myself, as simple as it was then." He sighed, "Things are always so simple when we reflect."
The Vulture tilted his head slightly, scattering his breeze-blown strands to the left. "I came into my own when I set out on my own. The jaws of loss found me and for a time, swallowed me whole before spitting me back out a changed man. I reveled in knowledge long forgotten and found my place in the musty bowels of places forgotten by most. Sorcery. Huh." He lifted a hand, relaxing the tension of the cords beneath his glove to demonstrate the nasty tremor his dark magics had dealt in permanent scar to his stability. "The Sith hunted me just as the Jedi did when I was younger, seeking to do just as they had- an asset for the chaos they think they want. I found refuge when the the Iron Sun rose and solace, home even here, where most saw nothing."
A familiar chill washed over him, forcing him to shudder and he scowled briefly, an expression left bear as an old wound agitated.
"One day you'll stop lying to yourself."
"And you?" He distracted himself from the insidious of his haunt with a simple question, "The others of the Order are paper in comparison to your mystery. Indulge me."