Dusty Day (Open)

[Lemur, The Kool-Aid Guy]

Naraka sat in the dusty midday heat of Korriban, hovering a foot in te air with her bare feet resting on her knees. A light breeze was blowing onto her red skin, which was heavily exposed. Her thighs in particular were clearly visible underneath the strips of leather she wore that protected only the barest notions of modesty.

It was ironic, but she wished it was more humid. So many formative years spent on Felucia and Kashyyyk had imprinted on her, and she preferred to avoid the dusty and dry heat of these barren deserts. However, supposedly Korriban was an important world to the Sith, for Force reasons (though Naraka felt distinctly less of a connection than to Felucia), and for all those delightful little historical reasons she’d never studied and didn’t care about.

Some of these new Sith were in the Order for the desire to be part of an ancient tradition, to bear the mantle of ancient idols long since fallen, to see and study the resplendent monuments of ancient greatness.

And the Togruta Sith Master practically laughed in their faces. What good was the name of a man millennia dead? Dusty tombs and dusty ruins didn’t capture her interest. In a thousand years everyone in the Sith Temple would be dead and long since forgotten, but the Force would still be around.

Little things like legacies didn’t bother Naraka. Her interest was very simple, the twofold acquisition of power and pleasure. It was her boredom and her attraction to power that kept her loyal to the Sith, not ideology or the idea of personal greatness. She was going to live her life and enjoy it, and that was the sole extent of her ambition.

If she were to allow herself a concrete goal, she wanted a good apprentice, or two. Having a pair would be better, as she could pit them against each other. If they were both boys then so much the better, she could force them to struggle with jealousy. They could fight over each other like animals in mating season, and she would reward the stronger.

Or else she could devote all her attentions on just one, and be everything to him. Mother, sister, aunt, lover, mentor, adversary. There were so many masks to wear, so many things to be. For her it was easy, as at any one moment she could be any of those things.

And it had worked. Her apprentice had loved and adored her right up until he’d tried to strangle her and she’d cut his arm off.

Ah, love.

Perhaps here on Korriban she’d find a likely candidate. Or else she’d find one off of the dusty lifeless ball of dirt she was sitting on.

Naraka was not fond of Korriban. She would have killed someone in a heartbeat to add vegetation and animals to Korriban. Not some trifling fungus in a cave or a shyrack sleeping in the ceiling, but grass, trees, and birds singing as they played in the sky. That would have been vastly superior.

The Togruta let out a sigh as she felt a presence coming towards her. It was both the motion and physical presence that she detected ultrasonically and the Force signature that she could perceive. Regardless, she wasn’t alone now. And not alone meant a chance to live vicariously.

[Raytheon]

Permenion canted his head to the right side, shielding his face from the direct impact of the sunlight as he reached into his tunic pocket slipping out a pair of electrum framed sun visors. A physical hint at his enjoyment of materials and the hedonistic lifestyle he pursued. Dressed in the style of charcoal hued tunic, and pants both of which woven from breathable shimmersilk that allowed him to stay cool on the dry scorched planet. His wrist adorned with electrum and gold bracers that acts more of jewelry than function. However unlike the usual members of the order who wore all black with hints of read her wore a royal purple shirt beneath the tunic directly contrasting the dark charcoal colors.

He finally stepping out the the shade of the doorway to the temple, the winds blew grains of sand across his boots as he stretched out his arms to adjust from having been sitting in binders for so long. He looked back at the antiqued temple and the only words to come to mind were "distasteful". In his opinion the Jedi held temples of grand marble with rooms and credits to flush their needs with unlimited resources. While these Sith of old, fear war mongers of history and conquers sat in old sandstone temples in the center of a force forsaken desert. Oh how he longed for the comforts of Zeltros, but now he was tasked with finding a master. It brought back memories of he youngling days when he sought a master.

Some old man who spoke with a monotone voice who dressed in the same material that dried wheat was shipped in. And have a preference of cooks oats than a steak and glass of reserve brandy with ice.. lost of ice. "F**k, it's hot here.." He muttered out loud as the heat broke his train of thought. His face slightly specked with a glimmer of sweat, it wasn't until the sight of red in his peripheral.

He turned to see a Togruta woman scantly dressed, perhaps in meditation and a small smirk formed upon his lips. His red stained, yellowed eyes watching her curiously. "Oh..definitely better than the Jedi.." He approached the woman slowly making careful yet calculated steps as he approached her his right hand carefully across his abdomen. While some would see it as merely nothing, or the sign that perhaps he had stomach pain it was the easiest position to begin dueling. He had heard so many rumors of the Sith he couldn't be too careful.

He felt her force presence, after hovering already give it away she was dark, deliciously dark. "I pray I'm not interrupting your.. isolation?" He spoke out clearly, afterward offering a sly smile he as pressed up his sun visors to cover his eyes from the sunlight.

[Lemur, The Kool-Aid Guy]

Naraka opened her deep brown eyes and peered at the human man before her. He was tall, with sandy blonde hair. He also seemed excessively clean, like he obsessed over his appearance. Probably the type of man to gaze at his reflection in a mirror with love and plan out his wardrobe with love. Indeed, his variation on the boring dark robes everyone seemed to enjoy wearing was, Naraka recognized, much more ornate and spoke of quality.

He was handsome enough, but he was in his mid-thirties, visually more her apparent age than a youth. In other words, he was a bit old for her tastes. She liked to control the young, as they were so much easier to manipulate. Plus, it was so much more fun being with some insecure youth who melted into you than a grown man with confidence.

"You already have," Naraka said softly, in a velvet tone.

Whenever she didn't know someone, her first approach was always to turn up the charm. When that someone was a man, it became all the more important that she be personable, to keep them favorably disposed towards her.

It wasn't surprising that she didn't know him, as she was hardly the most social in the Order, and Initiates had been trickling in for years after her arrival, and she'd rarely gotten to know any of them.

She also noticed his arm was resting by his lightsaber, which prompted a thin smile. Clearly he didn't know the Togruta's reputation. She rarely started any altercations, preferring instead to merely hold her ground. After all, she wasn't some young pup desperate to prove herself. Naraka was a Sith Master, with remarkable patience.

After all, when you spent six years alone in the wilderness, time stopped mattering.

"You won't need your weapon, I'm not in a killing mood."

[Othorious]

"Try it again..." The squat Ugnaught nodded once and quickly fiddled with something in the cockpit as the starship started up once, then suddenly powered down and stalled. "Son of a b!tch... Not again." Doviculous would slam his right hand down onto the metal of the starfighter's hull and would go on a small rant filled with colorful profanity. Working on his own starfighter got the Devaronian Sith's blood boiling, it was always on the fritz and bugging the f*ck out. "Keep working on it Scab, I'm going for a walk... an enthusiastic walk..." Doviculous threw the oil covered rag away and walked right out of the Hanger built right into the side of the Sith Academy on the barren tomb-world of Korriban. Doviculous made a quick trip back to his chambers in another part of the Temple to quickly change into a fresh black cloth shirt and a pair of black pants fastened tightly to his waist with a leather belt. He'd keep his durasteel-toe black leather boots on and would quickly leave his chambers and rush out into the stale and blistering hot air of Korriban, and began his walk.

While he walked, he went over some of the past events in his head. He had just come back from his mission to assassinate the Senator of Naboo when he tried to flee to Coruscant. The mission went rather well, Doviculous boarded the Senator's ship and with his troops killed all of the defender military forces and beat down a Jedi Knight. He regretted that he didn't get to slay the filthy wretch, but Jedi reinforcements forced a hasty tactical withdrawal. Now that his mission schedule was cleared up he was finally able to delve into his tracking of the Burning Order, the Cult which had made Doviculous into what he was today. A devout weapon of the Dark Side.

He needed to hurry on his Hunt for the Cult, less they manage to gather enough allies and strength to make them even more of a nuisance than they're worth. Doviculous didn't work for months sniffing out their activities to have it all blow up in his face and give him a major migraine, he had to do this by himself. No one else had the worth to perform this mass execution... except maybe the Noghri Sith, Honog. He and he alone so far had earned Doviculous' respect and trust, and at the final hour of the Cult's destruction, Dov would rather have no other by his side than Honog. He allowed himself to smile at the thought of the Cult's end, all of the Cultists being flayed and strung up on poles to the glory of the Sith, the true wielders of the Dark Side. Then they would move onto the Republic and the Jedi, with Doviculous as the blade of the retribution, and the Dark Lords wielding him with perfect precision and viciousness.

He snapped back to reality, and realized he had walked much farther than he had originally intended. "The dreams of carnage are relishing to enjoy, but oh do they intrude on the factors of reality..." mumbled Doviculous to himself as he prepared to turn around to return to the Temple, but found himself once again distracted. As he turned, he spotted a pair of figures in the distance, one of them obviously Human even from this distance, but the other was clearly alien. Doviculous decided that it couldn't hurt to let his curiosity reign for a bit, as long as he didn't get up close and personal and butt into whatever they were talking about. Doviculous moved nimbly across the Korriban-landscape, sliding over crumbled pillars and around archways, his boots leaving slight imprints in the sand that covered some of the rocky terrain.

He perched himself on a rock overlooking the area, and finally got to see the more defined features of both figures. The Human was decently tall, although not as tall as the 6'5 horned Devil himself, but tall for a Human. The alien, a Togruta upon further inspection, was a deliciously seductive looking female, which even caused Doviculous to raise an eyebrow as his Mechanical eye zoomed in on the goody goods. "Mhmmhmhm, not bad..." He said to himself, he hadn't seen a pair like that since... well, Donnie. That Twi'lek tramp he had boned on two separate encounters on the same freighter during one of his most early missions after he joined the Order. Now that he thought of it, she was nothing... just another pawn to be used for his own personal desire, and would've (if he had a chance) disposed of without a moment's hesitation. A few months ago he wouldn't of thought anything like that about her, but his further studies into the tomes of the Burning Order he had retrieved on Vendaxa have taught him otherwise.

People were just objects, to be used by the strong, to be annihilated by the strong, and Doviculous was obviously in the category of strong. He had used his gift of the Force to destroy any who had stood before him, crush their bones, rend their flesh, spill their blood. The weak were damned to be destroyed while the strong rose from their piles of corpses to become Gods among men, and those who dared challenge them would know a fate worse than death. Doviculous moved away from his thought process and back to the reality at hand. Moving his gaze between the Human and the Togruta, he waited patiently to see if anything interesting would come of this meeting of fate.

[Raytheon]

Permenion smiles as he chuckled softly at her response, her tone of voice not ignored nor unnoticed. However he dealt with such sultriness on his travels frequently as he partook of various species, some more regrettable than others. However he had a soft spot for Togruta, they often reminded him of what he'd lost, his of wanting nothing more than to sit and enjoy his time with Forshaa. However those days were lost and days anew were pending on the horizon, he would sigh softy before offering a reply

"Well, allow me to apologize then it's not often one finds a perfunctorily garbed Togruta meditating upon the sands of Korriban of all places." he spoke in a casual tone, reaching back to comb his hair with his fingers before following up with a secondary response. "But then again I doubt my .. new found Order here has made investments into perhaps temples or enclaves more .. tropical or places more temptingly ostentatious."

He was already reading her movements, muscle twitches and even social approach. None seemed threatening nor aggressive however that would be a chance he would take. Experience taught him to never let his guard down when given the opportunity scars and slavery taught him that. However it was her experience that showed when she recognized he was on guard a rare or common trait among the Sith they did seem as a bunch rather untrustworthy, seeking power though means of subversion, direct elimination or seduction... though he thought at least that was polite enough to make you feel good before getting rid of you, at least in his eyes.

He lowered his hand, tucking his thumb behind his belt, allowing it to rest yet still close in proximity to act if required. He wasn't ware of her patience nor if she were a serpent to pull one in close before striking. He nodded a few times, snapping his finger on his left hand. "You know people tell me that, a lot especially Jedi for an Order that proposes peace they tend to be among the first to draw their blades. So here among the Sith, of old legend I can only imagine when they would draw their blades or our, technically. But it begs to question what kind of mood are you in if not a killing mood?" Voice still casual, yet well toned to be heard without difficulty.

He approached closer to her yet indirectly as he lean upon the sandstone post comfortably within it's shading shadow where he would be victims to the sun's direct and heated assault upon his skin. However this one was different than other Sith for one she didn't wear shoes or heavy robes in a desert environment like idiots she was spartan in her appearance and yet practical as well, a unique curiosity indeed here on Korriban.

[Lemur, The Kool-Aid Guy]

Naraka lifted herself up telekinetically and swung her legs down, planting her bare feet into the dusty soil of Korriban, and only then did she release the telekinetic hold that had kept her afloat in the air. It was hardly a common method of meditation, but he hadn't seen fit to comment on it, so perhaps it wasn't new to him. Or perhaps he wasn't so easily impressed as some.

And there was another disadvantage to older students, they were harder to dazzle. They didn't see their masters as ideals or paragons, because they were advanced enough to spot flaws. And what fun was it to have a pupil who didn't worship you as a goddess?

The Togruta woman didn't even pretend to try to understand what perfunctorily or ostentatious meant, as flowery Basic wasn't one of her skills. She hadn't even begun to understand it until she was in her 20s, and she hadn't mastered it until years later. She had perhaps two decades of practical experience in the language, and she still felt more at ease with Togruti in every way.

Her dark brown eyes took in the human again before darting to a Devaronian in the background who was watching them. She kept her eyes trained on him for a few seconds before looking back to the human and answering his question.

Naraka drew a little closer to him and smiled, revealing the glint of pearly white fangs.

"Now that would depend on what mood you put me in."

[Raytheon]

While her command of the force to levitate was one that could be considered impressive it wasn't impressive to Permenion though he couldn't do it it didn't flush him with envy. However it did hint to a degree of mastery in the force, now that he recalled not many Sith meditated at least in his field of vision since he'd been brought here. Her age was very difficult to determine, it wasn't like a human where a wrinkled face or the loss of elasticity in the skin could offer a hint to the years. Yet apart from the shorter lifespans they aged with incredible grace, the hued flesh and fit bodies often gave an age younger than truly intended.

Her body, her movements noted he could only think of the many flexible positions she could endure, the thoughts of most men of course. Yet even in her seductive tones sat confidence and practice years perhaps or even decades. His train of thought on her assets ended her the small glimmer of those deep brown eyes darted behind him only for a few seconds yet enough to confirm that something pulled her attention. His defensive mind began playing scenarios, and plots his eyes slid to their right side to perhaps gain visual through peripheral sight. Though he could vaguely make on one in the distance he didn't dare turn from her, for a multitude of reasons caution and the fact she was very pleasant on the eyes.

While most humans would see the montrals, head tails and rather seek Twi'leks his previous experience with a Togruta taught him better. While the Twi'lek were dancers, pleasures bound in flesh. Togruta were hunters, warriors, athletes of among the highest caliber and wild and passionate in all aspects of life. As she drew closer to him and smiled, the array of snowy white fangs, he smiled in return, apart from the small smirk. He reached out with his left hand grazing her armed with his left hand, index finger softly.

"A beautiful smile, and as for the mood I can put you in.. oh choices choices. What ever shall I choose?" He replied in a softer tone given her closer proximity. His index finger tracing slowly up to her shoulder and slowly across her chest. "You are very different from these.. emotional individuals to whom I've recently pledged to." He nodded his head to the temple yet while speaking didn't stop feeling her flesh, perhaps overconfident yet he would try.

[Lemur, The Kool-Aid Guy]

Naraka's smile broadened a little as his finger touched her shoulder, and then her chest. It touched rather higher than her breasts, but close enough to her cleavage to be enticing, and as he trailed it across, she contemplated his answer.

Or lack thereof.

While he hadn't exactly answered her question, she hadn't exactly answered his. It was shaping up to be a delicious little verbal dance that she could eat like a prime cut of meat. Succulent, flavorful.

"Make no mistake," She said slyly, reaching up to his cheek with the backs of her nails. "I'm a very emotional creature."

Abruptly and without warning, she reversed her hand and cut into his fair skin with a sharp nail, drawing blood. She withdrew her hand to her side and flashed him another toothy grin.

"How very clumsy of me."

She was enjoying this. He wasn't young, but he was still fun to play with, like it was a game of some kind. What was more, he might be a prospect for intimacy, even if he didn't have any remaining innocence to steal away.

It was better to have a partner like him then to be alone at night.

"My quarters, tonight," She said softly, but authoritatively. She'd made her ruling, and it was clear that she'd made her selection from the menu.

[Raytheon]

Her smile broadened and cast more of the fanged smile that frightened most but only aroused his curiosity. His finger by now grazed over one of the headtails and now over that cleavage that was barely contained by strips of black leather. Her buxom body was enough to cause such imaginations of lesser men to run wild and abound, yet for him it was focused and with intention. As she reached up to his cheek, and with the back of her nails. And spoke slyly he responded at first with the simple dash of his tongue across his bottom lip.

When suddenly the sting of a swift cut across his cheek caused him to curse in a whispered tone. "Sh*t.." He followed the word with a soft chuckle, before reaching up to the cut with his right hand dragging his finger across the cut, collecting his blood on the tip of his middle finger before slowly slipping it between his lips. Pulling away his finger from his mouth and tucking his thumb back to his belt.

"How clumsy you are indeed, yet I don't doubt you're emotional but I'm sure it's the emotion that counts and not the emotion that is boring and leads to less than intimate encounters." He responded in a soft tone, one that could be interpreted as a males' equivalent to seduction attempts.

It was her inciting offer that cause him to smile brightly, in almost a demanding tone yet after hearing it he would move his hand to her hips squeezing ever so softly before leaning into to speak in a softer yet slightly deeper register.

"You would deny the voyeur of a show of .. possibly wild, unkempt passion?" He spoke to give the idea imagery, to perhaps appeal to her own passion and imagination. "I can tell by your style that, being shy isn't a characteristic you uphold." He retorted softly following up his previous statement.

[Lemur, The Kool-Aid Guy]

"There's a time for every emotion," The Togruta purred, stating a truth she held close. Other Sith tended to focus on the same exact emotions over and over again, neglecting the full spectrum a sentient being was capable of. After all, the Dark Side was about passion, and there were many things to be passionate about.

It was fun emotions like lust that the others tended to ignore, preferring mistrust and suspicion.

Why exactly they preferred to live in their own little black world was a bit of a mystery to her. After all, a Sith could have fun too, far more than a Jedi in fact. Naraka certainly did, and she was talented with finding the fun in everything.

The human proposed giving the peeking Devaronian an eyeful, and she debated obliging.

On the one hand, she was fine with it. On the other, she had already set a time and place, and if she started early she might have trouble stopping; and the open dust of Korriban was not the place for sexual activity.

"I might not be shy, but I don't do things halfway. If it's done..." Naraka leaned closer, pressing her breasts against him and whispering into his ear from inches away. "I want to go all the way."

The Togruta leaned up and nibbled at his ear for a second before pulling back and stepping away, retaining complete control, over herself, and hopefully over him. After all, sex was power of a kind, and if he wanted her, she could tease him by making him wait. That was simply her way.

"Tonight. My quarters."

[Raytheon]

"There's a time for every emotion,"

Her words rang with truth, in his time as a Jedi they would eliminate emotion from the equation limiting their own greatness and ability. Since he'd left he was able to use emotion to empower himself and better control himself. Given that he controlled said emotions unlike many of the Dark Jedi he'd come across and perhaps in the future some Sith. While the behavior of the Sith is something he would come to understand with time and experience it was something he didn't understand as of yet.

He was unaware of the dangers of the Sith, the opportunistic savages that were titled initiates that would literally do anything to advance their greed for power blinding their own common sense. Yet it was until she spoke again and emphasized "All the way." Did the dusty desert suddenly become warmer, he was a man who enjoyed the pleasure life had to offer and this is one he would very much oblige.

The nibble of his ear caused him to shudder slightly, like a drug the tantalizing wave of lustful sensations coursing through his veins. Yet he kept outward composure after all the thing tastier than a meal is a meal waited for, and she had the body, the voice to fill a desire completely perhaps even more. He remained silent until the moment she stepped away and he withdrew his finger from teasing her flesh.

"Very well, tonight then it'll be a night to look forward to, I do hope you aren't too fragile." He spoke softly a lustful yet also sadistic smirk twisting upon his lips.

He took a few steps back as well his eyes behind tinted lenses of his visor outlining her body, undressing her with his eyes before bowing his head slowly. He finally turn away from her to the onlooker reaching to his visor and tilting them down to look toward the Devaronian and offering a small wink.

[Lemur, The Kool-Aid Guy]

Fragile.

The Togruta woman laughed, a peal of bell-like laughter cutting through the dry air at a truly ridiculous question.

Was she fragile. With all the time she spent alone in wild places, Naraka was anything but fragile. She was capable of taking damage, and of dishing it out. If anything, the question was if he could keep up with her, and satisfy her desires.

"This rose has thorns," Naraka said softly with a thin smile.

But that seemed to close the matter, as the human turned his attention onto the Devaronian. The Togruta decided to echo his attention, crossing over to the red-skinned being, noting that his skin tone wasn't much different from hers.

He was missing a horn, and one of his eyes was clearly synthetic in nature. That was context enough for her to recall the name of the individual in question. As she understood, he was fresh from a duel with a Jedi Master, where he hadn't exactly won.

"Hello, Doviculous isn't it?" Naraka said, a slight playful edge to her voice, drawing closer to him, stopping a few feet away and folding her arms over her breast.

"I heard about your duel with the Jedi, a shame you had... mixed results."

Her gaze darted up to his missing horn and she smiled again, a slight sardonic look on her face, as she was clearly enjoying his failure. Besides, maybe she could make him a little mad and let him stew in impotent rage.

That would be delicious.

[Othorious]

Doviculous let his gaze meet the Human's and then the Togruta's as they finally went to notice his presence and acknowledge it. The woman, her name he somewhat recollected... Nara-something or other, he didn't bother really with names... unless of course they had gained his respect. He decided to indulge in their conversation, and leaped down from his perch to land a few meters away from the both of them, and slowly made his way to them. The woman had opened with comments on his obvious scarring, and apparently some details of his battle with the Jedi Master on Ambria had come about after his report. No matter, the insults and vexing did not hinder him, it only fueled to sate the hunger of his hate and rage, and focus his power. He would turn that loss into power, and when next he came across a Jedi... he would utterly destroy them.

"The results may not have been satisfactory, but they served a purpose. A reminder to never underestimate a person, race, age or..." He'd chuckle as he added. "Gender." This woman may have heard of Doviculous' own exploits, but she would only get so far with what she had. Although... Doviculous was still intrigued with her, as he was with the Noghri and the Firrerreo. She could be a potential ally, but he would have to wait and see how this initial conversation played out. He would leave nothing to chance. "So, you know my name. Of course, but what would it take to get the name of a sweet desert flower like yourself?" Doviculous sort of died inside with those words, oh how hollow the meaning was, yet the forced romance sickened him so. He would have to suck it up, to deal with the likes of her.

The aspects of articulate speech was as foreign as mercy to Doviculous, but perhaps he could learn a thing or two from this woman if he got into her good graces. It was one thing to have exceptional skill in the physical spectrum, but it was a completely different monster to be a master of the mental arts. To manipulate the lesser beings to do you will, either through cleverly placed words and a honey like voice. Or... through the anatomy of the body, as Doviculous suspected this woman had done with others, why else would she be dressed in such a way as to use her own body to persuade others. He smiled to himself, For what man could resist the allure of the female body if given the chance or hope of having a go at it?

[Raytheon]

He slid his visors back over his eyes, the expression of thorns considered silently yet he played the coy poker face. Watching the Devaronian for response, determine his behavior through his actions and possibly speech the severed and horn made him unattractive to Permenion, however he still had qualities that could make up for the obvious scarring. However Permenion kept such notions to himself, after all not all men responded positively to such advances. "Silly morals" He thought to himself.

It was after the Devaronian leaped from his perch and the comment on his physical scarring and name did a sly, arrogant smile slip from his lips. While he himself had some interaction with Jedi he never was on the bad end of the duel, at least not yet. However while he should empathize he only found it amusing, to see the results of underestimation. He reached slowly to the cut upon his cheek, the blood drying from the arid desert air, leaving a brown and red what looked down to be a scrape.

It was coincidental his response was that of acknowledging under estimation, he was capable of learning a trait many would never pick up even if you severed all their limbs. It wasn't until his request of her name did he speak up comically. "Well I wouldn't consider my self a desert flow... oh not me, right." He smiled, almost emitting a small snicker. "Doviculous such a sinister sounding name... Permenion..eh" He though to himself slightly jealous.

It was then he canted his head slightly at an upward angle in a moment of self realization as he thought to himself. "Wait.. what is her d*mn name?" Yet he also considered a notion that, he didn't really care all that much. Leaning back unto the sandstone foundation watching the two of them and willing to chime in again if it pertained to him, while the notion of simply walking away occurred to him. It was be a part of this, or watch some young initiates attempt to kill one another in a "spar".

Reaching into his pocket of his slacks, he pulled out a silver case popping it open revealing a collection of black cigarette with a gold hued band indicating it's filter. Slowly pulling one out, closing the case behind it as he tapped it slowly against the case singularly packing the cigarette.

[Lemur, The Kool-Aid Guy]

Naraka was a perceptive enough telepath that she could the Devaronian wasn't wholehearted in his praise of her, but flattery was rarely sincere. Nevertheless, she thrived off of flattery, basking in compliments and praise like a lizard in the sun.

In short, she didn't mind that he wasn't sincere.

The Togruta also ignored the human's little joke, as she didn't find it particularly funny. Instead she chose to focus in on the idea of sweet desert flower.

Yes, that was fitting given her red skin, and the brilliantly contrasting white and blue of her montrals. The stripes seemed to glow a little as she let herself feel a tingle of pleasure over the flattery, a subtle color change playing out in them.

"I'm surprised you don't already know it," Naraka said suavely. Certainly as a Sith Master she was known by a few, and her profile wasn't exactly low. Granted she wasn't a darling of the Inner Sanctum like some, but she was still skilled and powerful, with a reputation as a fearsome instructor, though she lacked apprentices at the moment.

"I'm called Naraka, but I'm not particular about names. You can call a stone whatever you like, but it's still a stone. People are no different."

The Togruta woman unfolded her arms and examined her nails idly, noticing the darkening stain under one fingernail of the human's blood.

"As to my real name, you can take whatever guesses you like."

[Othorious]

"Ah, Naraka. Now I remember where I have heard of you..." Doviculous would say with a sly smile. He had indeed heard of this woman, but had not truly bothered to truly remember her name. He only remembered the names of those who had gained his respect, but of course she may still yet earn it. "A fierce and ruthless beater of Acolytes, correct? The occupation of another I know, but he is not as interesting as you. Please. Indulge me on the specifics of what you do." Perhaps he could gain insight into Naraka, maybe figure something out about her hat he can relate to and form a sort of mutual alliance from that. It was a shot with no absolute certainty that it would work. This had somewhat failed with the Sith Master, Aurelius, a few days earlier. He had tried to form a mutual alliance with the man, but only ended up with a tense parting after Doviculous had gained a new mission to assassinate the senator of Naboo, and he hadn't talked to him since.

Maybe she would agree with Doviculous' own personal views on the force and on the place of himself within the webwork of the Force. If not, oh well. He would find another, there would always be others to fill the spot, but he'd rather not continue this search. Although... Doviculous cast his gaze onto the Human again, studying him slowly as the mechanical right eye mapped out his facial features. He was an interesting case, to be all out here alone with someone like Naraka... perhaps they could have been... Doviculous' mouth curled in a smile as the thought of Naraka and this man off on some secret meeting in the ruins of the Sith. It was probably completely wrong, but it didn't hurt to think of all the possibilities.

((A bit short, but this was quickly written up before I had to move onto some important stuff in RL.

[Raytheon]

Permenion remained silent, while he found The Togruta attractive he didn't find her interesting beyond such she didn't display anything useful nor an attribute that piqued his curiosity other than the timeline he had for the night. The Devaronian on the other hand was a paradox of his appearance, highly opinionated and held a degree of articulation however each a part of a chain of separate causality. Of course based on his appearance Permenion knew exactly how he lost his eye and horn, the angle and strength behind the blow the visual spoke to him like an appraiser looking at art, like brushstrokes.

Permenion was completely unaware of of these politics, power games, he didn't know to be on constant watch of allies. Or to generally use people for advancement within this Order he was in shifty terms pure of it's political intentions and machinations. Where some saw Naraka as ally he saw as a way to get his d*ck wet and perhaps live vicariously in the past. It was slightly a new experience for him to be near darksiders so casually as to hold conversation and flirt.

That eye freaked him out slightly, mechanical and a bit of lifelessness on flesh operating in tandem for the purpose of a visual aide. He could feel it watching him, them like a hungered kath hound sighting a chuck of fresh, warm blood dripping meat. However hid his emotions, keeping a perfect poker face that was useful in games of pazzak and sabacc yet also useful in interrogations, conversations as it hid the obvious emotion and curiosity often told in the face.

Permenion finally slid the cigarette case back into his pocket, afterward quickly slipping the cigarette between his lips. He remained mostly silent as they spoke, the reflective tint on his visors shielding his eyes and offered the reflection of those that looked into them. With the same hand that deposited the case returned from the pocket with white plasteel lighter as he lit his cigarette, the tip glowing bright orange. Returning the lighter to his pocket, he'd blow a billow of smoke from his nostrils.

Pushing away from the sandstone foundation and walking off into away from them perhaps as a mean of being polite in keeping his smoke from them or to give the appearance of offering them privacy. Either perceived scenario offered a degree of polite gesture one he was sure they would suspect, after all the Sith initiates seems to be cautious of one another, why not it's more elevated? Besides he could always simply walk to his ship, it was far more accommodating to his needs and desires than any quarter they could offer him in this "mausoleum" as he termed it in his head.

"Pardon me, I'll be right over there." He motioned to the open expanse of the desert before beginning to walk towards to desert into the bask of the sun. His arm slung across his abdomen like a gunslinger with a cross draw ready for a challenge if required or peaceful words of asked. A sign of slight if not unwarranted paranoia.

[Lemur, The Kool-Aid Guy]

Naraka smiled sly as she folded her arms, amused by his interest. There wasn't anything glamorous about what she did around the Temple, aiding in instruction in Jar'kai and telekinesis. It was all quite routine and dreary as far as she was concerned.

That meant he was likely being polite, and she didn't see much point for simple pleasantries like that.

"There really isn't much to say," She said coyly, two fingers tracing one of her lightsaber hilts. "You see, what I do here is hardly a challenge."

Her deep brown eyes flicked over to the human as he walked away, then rested on the one-horned man once more.

"Anyone can train a few brats in the dust. Real training takes time and finesse. These hopefuls are too interested in the ways of long-dead Sith and hero worship. Give me someone young and innocent, with a sweet nature, and let me turn them into my tool inch by inch and yard by yard."

Her voice was dripping with pleasure at the last, and the Togruta licked her full lips as if she could literally taste the sweetness of holding someone so strongly bent to her will.

Corrupting innocence was the highest beauty she'd ever seen, and watching her apprentice grow from a boy into a man as she twisted his mind to her will was delicious. She longed to repeat it.

"That's a real challenge worthy of my time."

[Othorious]

Doviculous chuckled, "I agree with you, Naraka. Why be preoccupied with the Lords of Ancient Past when you could be looking to the future and perfecting your own strength?" He mused as he slowly began to pace back and forth from left to right, always keeping his gaze locked onto Naraka though, his eyes meeting hers as a dark light shone in his one remaining organic eye.

"Only fools hold onto the remnants of the past. Strength lies within the future, your actions will decide if you live or die. Not old tomes and scriptures, unless they hold some sort of secret that you could use to your own advantage. But since when do you find such a reading?" He left the question hang in the air before he moved onto her words of corruption.

"Oh ho ho ho. You continue to peak my interest with you, Naraka. Corruption of the innocent? Such a vile notion only just begins to give me delicious goosebumps of pleasure." He would give a mock shiver of delight even though the air around them was blisteringly warm and arid, but he wasn't lying about those goosebumps. "Please, indulge me with your exploits on this 'corruption'. Perhaps we can swap notes later about the brutality of our own deep rooted nature, perhaps?" He would smile viciously, showing a mouth full of razor sharp teeth that glinted in the Korriban sunlight.

[Raytheon]

Permenion took a long drag of his cigarette, pulling it from his lips as he inhaled the collective of smoke gathered in his mouth, after a second later huffing out a large plume of vanilla scented smoke. This planet was unbearable he thought quickly to himself. "Maybe the Sith are safe here because it's too damn hot to consider raiding."

He would smirk to himself before reaching up and tugging loose the inner tunic from his neckline. However as occupied he appeared he listened observed with ears to the conversation taking place. It was an educational experience to be sure, they spoke of bending wills and taking the time to turn them into a weapon or a sacrifice.

Their views on the antiquated tomes and knowledge that were sure to be buried within this hallowed ground. He was taught for years, decades that these individuals were evil they strive to curse the galaxy with oppression and fear. However they were also long considered dead, a rumor that in fact he could attest was false to the point of being comical. While he spoke openly of corruption and gaining pleasure from it he could see this den of snakes, and parasites for what it was.

However that wasn't the part that made him come to some form of life changing realization, it was the fact he liked it he enjoyed it. He was familiar with it, the corruption and using people for your own gain and to an extent he'd done it hundreds of times. He was simple yet complex like a unique puzzle each time. He'd use people for sex, use them for credits and even use them for knowledge ripping it from their minds like ripping off a limb slowly yet violently.

The deep penetrating feeling to breaking their will as it would reveal their deepest darkest secrets. Opening a doorway to their mind like a library ripe for the picking, the technique offered him multiple venues of wealth, both physical and knowledge that made him as powerful as he was in the present. He longed for that knowledge again the pain it caused and even to a degree it aroused him.

However he continued to listen, and taken in the lessons from these seasoned Sith. And learned perhaps for himself learn the aspects of it's internal politics and it's winding maze of using words and manipulations.

A smirk would be all that would hint his thought while his back was turned from them at a good distance. He took another long toke of the cigarette sucking down a few millimeters of it's length as it burned away. Pulling it from his lips and flicking away the ash as he exhaled a four second long plume of smoke from his nostrils before inhaling again the fresh, albeit hot and dry air of the planet.