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Apprentice SithDusk meets experimental torture subject z shortly before she kills her master
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He'll be glad to learn.

(maybe they'll spar someday.)

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Hopefully.

(Her master is giving her coprentice pointers on his technique, now; she falls back into affected disinterest.)

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He hangs back and watches.

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She can follow what her master is explaining well enough to provide narration; not that it'll be very useful, but it at least gives him an idea of the kinds of things one has to pay attention to, learning to 'saber-fight.

Then it's time for lunch; they head to his office.

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He pays careful attention to her explanations. He won't be able to practice anything in his own body for a while, not with the cameras, but...

(Let's not think about his own body. Bad idea.)

He watches warily as she follows him to his office. That doesn't seem like an especially good place to be.

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Not any worse than anywhere else; there's that, at least.

It's an opulent little room, like most of the ones they've seen today, but just a bit more so: finer detail work, more things done in gold or studded with red jewels. There's a table and chair set up in the corner that he directs her to before sitting at the big desk himself and getting started on some paperwork.

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kind of tacky in here.

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Hm? It doesn't seem tacky to her. Uninspired, sure, he's not an artist, but it's pretty standard as Sith decorating goes.

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what, really? it's like he was just trying to make this place as expensive as possible.

He flashes up some images of the places he's lived before now. They are...less than opulent.

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She's a little surprised; she's aware that poverty exists but she hasn't really seen it before.

No, this is - he'd be embarrassed if it was much less nice, if another Sith saw. Showing off looks like this: She's been to some Sith events, science talks and things, and the host usually takes the opportunity to go all-out in showing off their wealth and trophies. It's pretty over the top; as in all things, Sith don't really go in for temperance or restraint.

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His childhood home wasn’t poor, exactly, but it wasn’t anything like this. The rest of them..."poverty" could work as a descriptor, yes, though he’s internally insistent it wasn’t that bad.

The showing off turns his stomach, just a little. They have so much, and that’s what they use it for.

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It's not pointless for the Sith who's doing it, showing off convinces people you're strong and they shouldn't oppose you. But - yeah.

Love you.

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not pointless, just–

An image of a woman working on a familiar corner. She smiles and coaxes passers-by but she’s so thin that her ribs are showing.

love you too.

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When I kill him - can't stay, can't keep the place, but whatever we can carry off we can keep. And I know where he keeps his bank records, we can get that.

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that helps.

we can do something better with it.

He doesn't know what, yet, but even handing precious stones out at random would be better than nothing.

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Yeah. Something to think about. (And those are important, even aside from the usefulness of the topic. The boredom isn't too bad, right now, but if they're in this for the long haul - )

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better not to lose it from understimulation, huh. what a way to go.

Being broken by boredom after you made it through losing an organ would just be sad.

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Yeah.

 

We probably get lunch before you do, but I'm not sure.

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i’ll wake up when someone comes in.

He’s already a little tenser, bracing himself for the inevitable startle response.

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Warmth-comfort-strength.

We've got a little while, anyway.

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He'll stay present in her body as long as he can.

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She fidgets, carefully silent, tapping the pads of her fingers to the underside of the table.

What else do you want to do when we get out?

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...not sure.

i know i want to learn my way around a blaster, and maybe...

It’s sort of embarrassing, somehow, in a situation like this, but he sometimes thought about being a sculptor, or a musician.

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Her eyes flick over to her master before she smiles, head ducked for privacy. Sculpting is fun.

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He shows her an image.

It's a little unnerving – a figure hung by hooks, bleeding, with her arms out like wings – but her expression is joyful as she looks up towards the sky. Her hair fans out behind her like she's weightless.

i don’t know if this one would be just sculpture or performance art or what, or how i’d make her, or how i’d do the hair thing, but

it wants to exist.

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