Curiosity [D5 MA, Wild Ride]

[Shelzais Sek]

"You're a perceptive man, Ilar'Shala." Never one to fall behind, Shelzais killed the last of her drink before reaching for the bottle. "Or else... you guessed that already, maybe."

Without getting up--of course, that meant leaning in again--she refilled his glass and then her own with effortless precision. Generous pours, and equal nearly to the milliliter. One might almost think this woman had some experience behind a bar, which would be peculiar for a Sith noble. Though possibly she was just that much of a lush.

"Well..." Shel contemplated the liquor sparkling in her glass for a moment before taking a thoughtful sip. "I suppose I could put it this way. If you become what you need to be to get out of that place alive... she'd be a fool to trust you after."

[Ilar'Shala]

"I'm no great student of books and lore as Lord Ausar is, but I do consider myself somewhat of a student of people. I have on occasion been given to wonder whether those who exit the Academy are made that way by the place, or whether it just attracts that sort of student? Nature versus nurture as it were."

Ilar felt the heft of his glass in his hand and approached this second drink far more slowly than the first. "We have discussed that a time will come when a parting will be necessary. I had hoped to learn more from her before that time arrived, but we are neither of us fools. A little naïve perhaps, but not fools." He added self deprecatingly at the end as he leaned against the bar, not returning to his seat just yet.

[Shelzais Sek]

"Natural selection might be the word you're looking for. Adapt, or die." Shelzais smiled again, but it was a sardonic one. "Or I really ought to say it as they drilled us there, you know: Through strength, I gain power. Through power, I gain victory."

'Through victory, my chains are broken.' And another set clapped right on. Something of this unvoiced train of thought might have shown in her expression as she leaned back into the fine leather of the couch and watched Ilar'Shala by the bar.

"Is that really what you want?" The question was light and casual, apparently un-weighted by any prejudgement, but her voice had shed--at least briefly--some of the lush, almost exaggerated playfulness of the earlier part of their conversation.

[Ilar'Shala]

"Natural selection might be the word you're looking for. Adapt, or die." Shelzais smiled again, but it was a sardonic one. "Or I really ought to say it as they drilled us there, you know: Through strength, I gain power. Through power, I gain victory."

'Through victory, my chains are broken.' And another set clapped right on. Something of this unvoiced train of thought might have shown in her expression as she leaned back into the fine leather of the couch and watched Ilar'Shala by the bar.

"Through victory, my chains are broken," Ilar adds, finishing the spoken mantra even as Shelzais thought it. "But how many truly have no chains? Does that mean they have not found victory, and how does one even define that?" He mused off handedly. "Somehow I doubt I'll find a philosophy instructor there to debate that with over a cup of kaff."

"Is that really what you want?" The question was light and casual, apparently un-weighted by any prejudgement, but her voice had shed--at least briefly--some of the lush, almost exaggerated playfulness of the earlier part of their conversation.

"My physical chains have been broken, but they were the easiest to destroy. There are other chains I am less inclined to see sundered, though in one way or another it is inevitable." He replies, skirting the question momentarily. "Perhaps time will show that it is only a transition, slave to student, student to ally? Alliances have been formed on less solid ground, I am sure."

Although whether he really was sure or just wanted to believe it was unclear, even to him.

[Shelzais Sek]

"Alliance is just another sort of chain, isn't it?" Shelzais tucked her feet--in beaded little house slippers with kitten heels that could easily pass for expensive street shoes--up onto the couch beside her, her posture growing more loose-limbed and relaxed even as the sardonic note never quite left her voice. "You might find some Sith who'll tell you they think otherwise... but how can you ever know if they mean it, or if they're only waiting for the right moment so seize another victory?"

"You're right, though, don't expect too much of that kind of talk at the Academy. Students or instructors." She shrugged languidly and swirled her drink, which she seemed to be nursing a little less conservatively than Ilar. "Often as not it's just a way of sussing out the other fellow's weaknesses. Of course, they'll know a lot of yours already," she added lightly.

He'd certainly revealed other vulnerabilities to her in exactly that way, not that she had much motive to capitalize on them. Her own, she mostly couldn't be bothered to hide anyway.

[Ilar'Shala]

Observing the movements of Shelzais's legs as she adjusted her position inspired Ilar to sip at his drink again. He let the liquid linger in his mouth for a long moment before he drained it with a deliberate swallow.

"I'm not so forthcoming with everyone." He explained to his hostess when she mentioned his weaknesses. "And I don't believe anyone is without chains, but some chains are more bearable than others."

"I do think I will need to change my outlook before I attend however. I've spent most of my life being beneath people's notice, that anonymity will not exist there. I imagine the constant scrutiny...well I'll need to be much harder to survive it as you say."

[Shelzais Sek]

Shelzais didn't miss where Ilar's attention went as she shifted positions, of course, and took her time, stretching her movements out a bit for everyone's greater entertainment. One did like to be appreciated.

"You're a slave," her free hand fluttered open, distancing herself from the ugly words even as she said them, "an alien, a wild sensitive. A Dark Councillor's pet...if your Lord Ausar is fortunate. Korriban can be hell for aspirants who come from low places--slaves and proles and aliens."

Her full lips quirked bitterly. "It has different dangers for the well-connected. I'd show you the scar, but... this whole thing would have to come off," she gestured nonchalantly up and down her one-piece jumpsuit, "and I'd hate to find out the hard way if Lord Ausar has a jealous side."

"Anyway," she chuckled, her humor perhaps somewhat restored, "you'd be both. Lucky you."

[Ilar'Shala]

"You're a slave," her free hand fluttered open, distancing herself from the ugly words even as she said them, "an alien, a wild sensitive. A Dark Councillor's pet...if your Lord Ausar is fortunate. Korriban can be hell for aspirants who come from low places--slaves and proles and aliens."

Anger flitted across Ilar's face, briefly but unmistakably, at being referred to as a slave. "Do not call me that again." His free hand clenched at his side as the forces of dark urged him to teach her a lesson, warring against his self control. "I would hate to have to make another premature exit from your barge. What would people say after all?"

Her full lips quirked bitterly. "It has different dangers for the well-connected. I'd show you the scar, but... this whole thing would have to come off," she gestured nonchalantly up and down her one-piece jumpsuit, "and I'd hate to find out the hard way if Lord Ausar has a jealous side."

"Anyway," she chuckled, her humor perhaps somewhat restored, "you'd be both. Lucky you."

The return of a more casual tone set Ilar slightly more at ease. "I can save you the doubt. She does. But not over something as petty as mere observation of the naked form."

[Shelzais Sek]

"But my dear, who can say I'd want to stop there?" Shelzais purred, smiling wickedly at him from behind the rim of her glass. "If I were a proper Sith, maybe I'd take you just to show her I could."

He was a fine-looking sentient, in that waifish Twi'lek way, and Shel certainly wasn't narrow-minded about the charms of aliens. She could very easily understand how Lord Ausar had been tempted. What she couldn't understand was risking one's life for such temptation... then again, that wasn't a reflection on Ilar's appeal; there was very little for which Shel was motivated to risk her life, ever.

"Anyway, if you don't like that description, don't take it out on me," she added, with a smoothness born of a whole lifetime of successfully avoiding most responsibility of and for her position in Sith society. "I'm only telling you what people will say at the Academy. If you can't live with it... well, the good news is no one much minds what students do to each other in fights." She chased this thought with a swallow of Whyrren's finest. "That's also the bad news, of course."

[Ilar'Shala]

"That's true, you are Sith and I am not. Although I would suspect, from what you've shown me, that you would have no difficulty finding dalliances with less...complications." Ilar surmised out loud.

"And while you look to be the type indeed who is used to getting what you want, you also seem the type to weigh effort versus outcome." He raises an eye questioningly as he smirks back. "And that is why I feel comfortable here in this moment."

[Shelzais Sek]

"That's one way to put it, sure." Shelzais smile to herself. "I'm not interested in measuring... lightsabers" she chuckled, "with your master. You're cute, but not that cute, sorry." She arched a brow at him, making up for the backhandedness of that compliment with some obviously appreciative scrutiny. "Despite my reputation, there are a few things I value even more than a good time. Keeping all my limbs, for example."

She swirled her glass, nibbling her lip slightly. Full, soft lips, pointed white teeth... it was possible she'd practiced that move in a mirror, once upon a time. Or maybe it came naturally. "But I'm a very bad Sith, you know. If I kept the Code better, the power struggle would be the point. Your pretty face would just be a means to an end."

[Ilar'Shala]

He laughed at Shel's comment as well. "Yes, the prettier slaves did tend to make that point known to the rest of us. I thank you for your generous, if honest, assessment though."

"Or maybe you are a much better Sith than you and others give you credit for? My reading of the culture may be wrong, but it seems that unless one is on the pinnacle of the mountsin, then accumulating obvious power, also accumulates obvious enemies."

[Shelzais Sek]

"Make enemies, defeat enemies. Rinse, repeat." Shelzais waved a hand in languid dismissal. "That's how you're supposed to climb. You can be sneaky about it, yes, but if you're not pushing someone down, you're not moving up."

She grimaced, delicately. "That 'mountain' you're looking at is made of bodies, my dear. Living and dead. Sooner or later everyone gets his face trod on... well, everyone but the Emperor, I suppose. Personally I'd rather not go anywhere near it."

[Ilar'Shala]

"And every Sith has their own mountain of bodies left behind one assumes, or they soon become part of someone else's mountain." With a sweeping gesture to the outlandish sailboat and its expensive furnishings, he raises an eyebrow.

"It seems that your mountain has elevated you to a most comfortable position." Ilar comments as he raises his glass in acknowledgment. "I would congratulate you for navigating such a treacherous minefield so spectacularly."

[Shelzais Sek]

Shelzais's grin was distinctly ironic. "Is that what you think? Sweet thing. This," she shrugged, gesturing vaguely with her nearly empty glass "--all this is two or three parts being born to the right parents, one part gentlemen admirers, and one part good honest gray market business out on the Rim. Where I hope to return soon, once my little obligations here are complete. I've survived the minefield by staying out of it."

[Ilar'Shala]

Taking the liberty of refreshing Shelzais's drink, Ilar shrugged slightly, accepting his lack of knowledge in the matter at hand.

"Ah, my blessed mother." He muttered under his breath, not quite soft enough to remain unheard. "I must thank you for opening my eyes to so much that I didn't understand about this society. My perspective was rather...linear until recently."

[Shelzais Sek]

As Ilar refilled her drink, Shelzais reacted to the gesture with a warm smile which might well reinforce his impression that here was a woman who'd never lack for company, if she wanted it.

"There's a lot you can't see from the bottom, darling... and nearly as much you can't see from the top. Of course we Sith talk sooo endlessly about the strong rising and prospering and all that--" she raised her glass in a sort of toast, or salute--the first two drinks didn't seem to be having an especially strong effect, apart from possibly making her more expansive.

“Truth is, it's a lot easier to rise when you can start already standing over other people. Not that you can't slip down too, of course. And some people enjoy the struggle." Her face showed something of what she thought about such people. Maniacs, all of them.

"Your mother..." Her voice became a little gentler, perhaps slightly... uncomfortable? "Is she living?" That, perhaps, might explain why he'd be inclined to stay and try to carve out a niche. Maybe. Shel's relationship with her own mother didn't offer a very useful analogy.

[Ilar'Shala]

"There's a lot you can't see from the bottom, darling... and nearly as much you can't see from the top. Of course we Sith talk sooo endlessly about the strong rising and prospering and all that--" she raised her glass in a sort of toast, or salute--the first two drinks didn't seem to be having an especially strong effect, apart from possibly making her more expansive.

"And one presumes that you prefer to be on top?" Ilar teases Shelzais, tongue firmly in cheek.

"Your mother..." Her voice became a little gentler, perhaps slightly... uncomfortable? "Is she living?" That, perhaps, might explain why he'd be inclined to stay and try to carve out a niche. Maybe. Shel's relationship with her own mother didn't offer a very useful analogy.

Ilar shook his head as a small tug at his heart strings played visibly across his face. "I was young when I was sold by my father, but I was old enough to remember the reason. He couldn't afford to feed me or my brother after our mother was killed. She was a talented dancer and the only source of creds for our family."

[Shelzais Sek]

Shelzais bubbled with genuine laughter. "Oh my dear Ilar... only socially, you know. Otherwise I have very broad tastes."

Ilar shook his head as a small tug at his heart strings played visibly across his face. "I was young when I was sold by my father, but I was old enough to remember the reason. He couldn't afford to feed me or my brother after our mother was killed. She was a talented dancer and the only source of creds for our family."

"Ah." A slight, awkward pause. "Well. And look where you are now." Her tone was a bit flat--rather subdued--though it recovered a certain ironic color as she continued. "By the will of the Force, if you can murder enough people before they get you first, you might even be a Lord one day. Everything working as they always say it should."

[Ilar'Shala]

"Perhaps," Ilar mused out loud. "Not like that would be the strangest thing to ever have happened in this galaxy. Though I would settle for carving out a small powerbase for my children to inherit one day. What of yourself, have you someone to leave all this to when your time comes, may it be many, many years away."