SithLore

OOC: Previously

“What do you have planned?”

The words jolted Ordona to a stop. They’d wound through a number of alleys, following pedwalks that stretched between the dark shadows of Coruscant’s underbelly. This deep the lights of ships overhead blinked like stars as they zipped by. Ordona started to move again. She turned down another corridor, moving fitfully until she came to stop under a cloth awning, leaning against the wall, embracing what little protection it offered.

“I…” She started to answer before giving it much thought. Hesitation flooded through her then. She’d been moving on anger, on frustration. Darkness. So what? she thought. Maybe this is what it takes. Maybe this is who I am. Even so, her emotions were controlling her. Rani would have scolded her, told her that she didn’t have to be a slave to her feelings any more. Frak, Tigon would have whooped my hide so bad I’d be in Bacta for weeks, Ordona thought with a small, dark smile.

They weren’t exactly happy memories, but they were what she had.

“I don’t know,” she admitted, softly. “I need to end this but I still don’t know what that means and my indecision is going to get me killed. Maybe not just me.” There was truth there. And deeper, an apology spoken without saying the words aloud. Slade was here because of her. She’d thought to have the situation under control, but it was spinning rapidly further past the event horizon and before long it would swallow Ordona whole. And take anyone near her into the depths when it pulled her under.

“I need to think, breath, but I feel like I’m drowning. I’m running like an untrained child,” Ordona said. It was a harsh truth and she wanted to take it back the instant she said it. Who was this man to garner such an admission from her? She was once Darth Peregrinas, trained by Darth Tigon to be a weapon of the Sith. She didn’t bow, or run. And she certainly didn’t apologize. A growl split her lips, revealing teeth clenched tight in frustration. It felt like she was being torn in two. Darkness and light swirled within.

The scales were tipping perilously close to the edge and Ordona wasn’t certain she wanted to stop herself from jumping over with them

It was a heartthrob of a thing to watch a soul shatter. Painful and paid in full she offered herself to him, admittance in fine metallic sheen of truth and loathe of what she's become.

Devil, devil...

The gloom of the dark heightened the mess she was in the lack of light. She stood a chance with what she had, but luck was a scant hellion who came and left as she pleased. It seems as if the lovely Ordona heard lady Luck's heels click ever near the exit. Darkness loomed rebelliously against the heart of this woman, this tired and strained woman, this woman who knew nothing of the sacrifices she would have to endure to reach her way of success, alone. Slade had joined her for this moment, this moment, one of the few scant things they shared. He hadn't had much time to propose the little things he wanted to her, and as much as it was craved to throw her headfirst into the web he weaved just for her, he gently teased himself first.

Devil, devil....

Golden gems slid to those worried, furious, frantic and misled jewels of her own. And with sincerity, he gave he what he held back for a nice minute, that purposeful minute that made it taste all the more sweet.

"I honestly don't give a damn, Ordona, what you plan to do. But I will tell you this; I will be here with you in every step you take, to help you through it."

Firstly, she was weak. It was a generous thing, to empower her, to rob that opportunity from himself of sweeping in and stealing her breath away right then and there with the promise of never ending power and fortune. But was that really what being a Sith was about? Or was it about rebelling against those who were unfit to rule? To erase those unworthy?

Show me where it hurts...
This dirty little curse...

Would he have to explain his intentions? Or would she see through him? Would she see the monster hidden beneath this handsome face? Or would she allow the Wicked Messiah to take her through the tribulations, to acquire the power and knowledge she could use against those who were not worth that unfocused stare of hers?
The pied piper would crawl a song into her mind as long as she needed it, and bide his time. He would bide his life to wait for her decision. The best time to watch a tree fall, was when it cut itself, after all.

A little grin countered her unhappy fangs as he added. "We can fake it like we made it until they gut us. Or we can take a break from searching for their weakness while enjoying a nice time away from it all."

Steaks weren't so bad, after all. Real steaks, this time. She needed time to get away from it all. Him, he could handle his own mentor trying to kill him repeatedly; it made him stronger. But it was obvious she needed a release. A sweet and timely release to get away from her brother, a bothersome man who had nothing else better to do other than trying to murder his sister.
It was nice to enjoy being an untrained child, sometimes. Yes, there were times to grow up, but others were needed for relaxation. To rob life of it's beauty and throw yourself into the maelstrom of a tormentuous life, there was no forgiveness in that. That was an abuse of time, something way too precious.

"It is unwise to spend all of your time trying to lose it all in one night."

Gambling with life was worthless.

Oh, Devil, Devil.

“I will be here with you in every step you take, to help you through it.” The words echoed in her head. It was a generous offer, one she wouldn’t have expected from the man who stood before her. He was hard, unforgiving. It was a lifestyle she knew well. And yet here was this unexpected kindness, as if they had taken to each other and formed a bond that meant something. It’s a trap, yelled a quiet, Sith-like part of her mind. That same part urged her to use the offer, to take it and let Slade be a buffer between herself and the storm she was courting.

Ordona silenced that part of herself, cauterizing the thought as cleanly as if she did so with a stroke of her lightsaber. Here was a man offering her aid and her first thought was treachery? Was it so easy to fall back into the ways of the Sith as that? The rest of Slade’s words landed with much less of an effect, largely because Ordona was connecting disparate pieces of information. A plan was coming to her mind, but, more importantly, Ordona knew of a way to get the rest of the details that were lacking and fill in the gaps of the puzzle that was her brother.

“Give me a moment,” she said to Slade, sitting down on the dirty permacrete. She reached into her pocket where the lone red sock had been stowed as they ran, pulling it forth and looking at it.

(Resume Level 9 App. First part here)

Ordona lowered herself into the currents of the Force, trusting Slade to watch over them as she focused all of her attention on the scarlet article of clothing. Her eyes only gave so much information, most of it useless so she closed them. The Force gave her the insight she would need. It was a delicate process at first, weaving tendrils of energy over and through the small sock. She let her mind slide into the fabric, pressing between stitches and molecules to wrap the small object in her awareness.

As she did so, Ordona let the Force warp time around the sock, reeling it backwards. Like sand floating up through an hourglass, Ordona watched in her mind's eye as the sock moved back into the room, details around it fuzzy as though the sock were the only real object in existence. In some ways, to her, in this moment, it was.

Through the Force, Ordona heard her own voice, muffled and distant, as well as that of Slade. Soon the sock was back on the floor of the room, alone but for the beating of Ordona’s heart, hammering in her ears. Sweat beaded down her back in the real time as her concentration wavered. The dirty smell of the Coruscanti underbelly wafted through her nose, distracting her and she felt her tenuous grasp on the past slip.

Psychometry was not a skill that Ordona had spent much time practicing, and certainly not one she had extensive training in. She was running on instinct, but this was familiar territory to the ex-Sith. Technics that had been honed for other uses, for seeing the world around her, manipulating objects, and much more all lent important lessons as she forced stray thoughts from her mind and refocused on the small object in her hand. A scuffle of a foot on the floor sounded and for a moment Ordona wasn’t sure if it was in the past, in a room she thought to be empty, or in the present, Slade moving for some reason or another.

Then her attention snapped onto the sock again, her will driving her to the moment she needed to see. The clarity of the sock was interposed against a background of fuzz, and it was tossed from her bag, carelessly. She drew more energy into the sock, guiding it back into the past and into the vision she was seeing. Instantly the blur of the room sharpened and Ordona saw Jashara’s face, marred but beautiful with the tattoos of his kind. His eyes were wide, almost as if he could feel her there now. As he backed out of the room, Ordona was able to see a keycard in his hand.

(End Level 9 App)

Her concentration broke and a fierce growl rumbled through her. She stood, igniting the sock with a frustrated wave of pyromancy, driven by her anger in the Force.

“He was there. In that building. Probably in a room not far from mine. I didn’t feel him. I was so distracted and I missed it. Frakking frak,” the last came hissed between clenched teeth. Ordona looked to Slade, a decision coming to her. The time had long since passed to end it and she intended to do so.

“I’m going back.”

He watched her abrupt end of stewed feelings as she took concentration to an object from her pocket. The one he salvaged for her; the red sock. Nimble hands worked over the fabric of lace and delicacy as she discerned what happened today, magic fueling each thread of the garment. His golds stayed on her form as his own mental eyes scanned the darkened alley for defense against any arriving threats. Nothing as she kept her meditation on the fabric.

Then she turned to him, something more animalistic than human passing through her lips as a flare took to the air. The sock was nothing more than a memory and ashes as it was sent to the Void in the palm of her hand. A raised brow checked him to her as she confirmed his initial belief on her next move.
Going back to waste more time.

He had given her his word, and an oath was nothing to be dropped so easily. Even to a Sith such as himself. So he would keep with her until Jashara's blood lay splayed across the tops of her boots. Or until she shooed him away.

"I am ready. But we might need to use a different entrance."

They did kind of smash their room to nothings, but the warden of the cheap motel would have had guards and enforcers up there, at this point. Was it worth it?

There was something of exasperation in Slade’s voice when he responded to her. Ordona smiled, taking it as a kind of twisted affection. It meant that despite any disagreement he may have about her choice, he was along for the ride. And as the cogs turned in Ordona’s mind, she had to admit, it was going to be quite the roller coaster. The beginnings of a plan were slowly growing into much more than that. If they were able to make it back, and get inside with nothing more than a minimal commotion, then it could really work.

“Here’s my plan,” she began, pacing her words to match their steps. As they walked, she laid out her idea. How they would sneak past any goons Jash had posted and whatever authorities the manager had brought out. How, after doing so, she planned to locate his room through a use of a slicer chip she had and some Force-aided intuition. And lastly, most importantly, how they would capture Jashara using her own clothing as bindings if necessary.

“It gets a bit more fuzzy once we have him, assuming we can subdue him without having to kill him,” she said. Ordona spoke rather nonchalantly about her plan to kidnap or murder her adopted brother. There was something of her old Sith-self showing through. But more than that, it was a weariness and a tension. Their back and forth had gone on long enough. Ordona had hidden for 6 years and in that time, Jashara had still been holding the flame of hatred aloft. She was tired of it. Tired of looking over her shoulder, tired of hunting him and being hunted in return.

“But, if he has to die, I want to be the one to do it.”

Mostly she was tired of what it represented. Jashara’s motivation to kill her stemmed from the murder of their family, something she’d done in the echoing pain of Rani’s death. It was hatred that had started this, but Ordona planned to finish it with a calm she wasn’t sure she truly possessed. Her plan might avoid having to murder him, but she was almost jittery with the need to have it over with.

The Wolf listened, their lope something less causal and more intentional as it led back to the slowly-gaining-attention motel. His senses leered across as much covered expanse as he deemed necessary once they stopped, and once the coast was guaranteed clear, he returned his full attention to her. A second went by as she expressed how determined she was to cage the demon that sprouted between her and her sibling. So dire that even if it required her stripping and knotting the man in her clothes, it would be so. The gentleman in him knew not to let her go so far, as her pride would need to shine through in such a moment of triumph. He would offer her one of the aged leather straps he had on his holsters before she found herself taking her shirt off.

The hellion was willing to kill her brother; hell, Slade would have said that should have been the first thing she should have done, simply to save herself the emotional agony, the time wasted. Something quick, burdenless on both her shoulders, and his. One thing he couldn't sympathize with, however, was her emotional attachment to her family, as he was never allowed the opportunity to sidle up with any family members, whether they be blood or Corviones. No one was close to him, and in a way, he didn't regret it. However, in others, he wish he could have felt just a bit more human, than monster. Just so he could see what immense spectrum of pain this was going to put Ordona through.
See it just enough to taste the aftermath.
And savor the sorrow.
As he would watch her cross over...to make that leap back where she belonged...

"I understand. As much as I may, I will go for maiming, and not murdering."

A stealth mission back into a place they had just semi-destroyed. With the manager and several officers probably inside. Along with a Mandalorian who had his own enforcements. Who all wanted a piece of her. And he was he accomplice.
Maybe he truly was mad.

"I may be of more assistance than just the firepower, after all."

The Force was something he had quite a comfortable degree of power over, and what he knew, he had mastered through excessive training. Not only with his Alpha, but with himself, as well. And with that, he grew. If there was any way he could possible help her using the Force, he would do it, and with such an offer, he solidifyed it with a firm nod.