Moments of Contemplation (Open RP)

The Coil's lounge had proven to have a surprisingly decent stock of amenities but the young Sith Lord who held such an opinion was hardly one of exotic tastes, at least when it came to his alcohol and meals. Corellion brandy was common enough, even in most of the Outer Rim worlds he was familiar with and the quality stayed rather consistent out among the stars. Here at the seat of the Empire, the brandy was as good as one could get and the Coil's bartender was beginning to know Belethir by not only name but also by taste. A glass was often waiting for him as the day winded down and a nodded thanks and quick smile was given in return. The bartender, in her professionalism, returned the respect and wordlessly returned to her duties.

It was a satisfying relationship.

The same could be said about the Sith Lord's impression of the Coil's facilities so far. The instruction he had found so far had been quite insightful and he had even managed to give his own bit of wisdom to some of the junior students in passing discussion about the natural of the Force or imparting some of his stories about past expeditions to abandoned Sith ruins. It was suiting him well.

Thunder roared over head and the red-skinned Zabrak looked up, a faint smile adorning his horned visage as he watched the constant rain course down the windows of the lounge.

He had forgotten how much he loved the storms of Dromund Kaas; he found some odd comfort in the lightning and thunder, the natural, angry sighs of the planet. He had found peace and contentment here for now among his fellow peers of the Coil but for how long? And what other insights and comforts might they offer?

Sounds reported off the floor of the commons, the metal flooring giving forth a somewhat noticeable announcement before the surface changed to plastiform thence to carpet. Pelagie walked in, the soft material and minimal soles of her footwear causing the noise. She held a towel over her face, seemingly so accustomed with the arrangement of the room that she did not need to see. She was very close to the bar, speaking, "Water-" when she paused, "Oh, Lord Belethir," she greeted, a light curl taking her lips as she blinked her awareness of the other, "How are you doing?"

It was obvious from her look and demeanor that the purple-haired sith was coated in a bit of a sheen of sweat, the pallor causing a bit of a reflection upon her quite pale flesh. She patted more at her face with the towel, orange eyes on the man as she continued the short distance to the bar, her hand going about the large cup of water recently provided by the bartender.

The Zabrak raised an inquisitive eyebrow as the student Pelagie walked into the lounge, the sheen of sweat evident. She was retiring from some sort of physical exertion but as to the nature of it, Belethir was left in the dark. No matter. His mind was making up all sorts of intriguing scenarios involving the perky young apprentice. Their brief meeting earlier in the week had left a favorable impression and he found himself enjoying her company.

He greeted her with a faint smile and raised his brandy glass, now half empty, in salute.

"Well enough. I'm finding this facility to be rather... enlightening. The House of Tears has quite made many revelations over the years with regards to the Sith artifacts they study here. I'm intrigued to see what other insights they might offer..."

He let his voice trail off as she dabbed at her skin with her towel. He chuckled softly and took another sip of brandy.

"Long training session?"

She nodded, a light smile on her lush lips, moving nearer the man as she picked up the glass, quaffing it, then set it down for a refill. She kept her orange eyes on Belethir the entire time.

"So, you will seek to align with the House of Tears?" and that curl on her lips seemed to take a subtly different cast, "What revelations?" she asked, her eyebrows perking up as she drank more of her re-filled drink.

Belethir chuckled lightly and finished his own drink. He waved the silent bartender over for a refill as he conversed with his fellow student.

"I believe my rightful place is within their ranks. They have discerned some hidden natures of a few rather intriguing artifacts that I have found enlightening. Were you aware the ancient Sith seem to have a preference for the most direct approach? One holocron was only opened after being struck with Force Lightning. Quite... blunt but sometimes the most direct path is the correct one."

The bartender handed him a refreshed glass of Corellion brandy and the Sith Lord nodded his thanks as he turned back to Pelagie.

"Which House is it you seek to align with?"

She takes a short step closer, that curve still to her lush lips, "I do not seek a place.  I am with the House of Tears.  Incoming 'freshman'," she said the word with a bit of a twist to her tone, "Are encouraged to petition one of the three Houses as soon as possible.  It's not a good idea to not be in one.  I don't think anyone has lasted who did not find a House."

She then looks down and away, moving her lips in thought, pursing them a bit, then nods, eyes moving back, "I tend to like to zap first and ask questions later.  I wonder if that hinders my learning," she comments, then after a short moment, she bursts into a series of bubbly giggles.

She was certainly a bizarre one. Belethir inclined his head to the side in momentary confusion as she burst into laughter but the joke was not lost upon him for long. He gave a soft chuckle of his own and took another sip of brandy.

"Well, perhaps it hinders one kind of learning and facilitates another. Tell me then, what sort of learning do you think zapping first would be the best method for?"

It was a play on the discovery he had made about the Force Lightning answer to opening one of the relics housed in the academy or so he thought. Perhaps she was merely being odd as was seemingly her way. It was strange but he found her eccentric and charming at the same time; it was refreshing to be interested in such an individual for once instead of resolving to ignore or destroy them for testing his patience.

She seems to give this thought, taking time to guzzle down more water before sliding the empty glass toward the bartender with a little shake of her head in reply to the unspoken question for more. She brings up a bent index finger, chewing on it a bit, eyes still down before looking up.

"I can learn how someone reacts to pain, or if the lightning even causes them pain at all!" she adds, as though in a sudden moment of epiphany, then, in a more controlled, musing tone, "I also want to learn to control my lightning better. It shouldn't be all or nothing."

She then widens her eyes a bit, eyebrows rising, lips pressing together and out somewhat as she rests a hip against the bar.

He decided then that she hide a keen mind behind that purple-haired, eccentric exterior. The Zabrak smiled faintly at her answer and nodded, swirling his brandy lazily in his glass.

"Mm, well said. There is also the test of whether your abilities are enough to deal with the situation you have been given. Causing pain may be the goal but perhaps it is not pain that will prove to be the final reaction. Taming a piece of unruly equipment for instance or.. opening an ancient holocron."

She was insightful in the way she moved too and he watched her with a measured stare, his own interests piqued. What other pieces of wisdom might she offer?

"How long have you been studying here?"

Pelagie nodded slowly at that, her orange eyes held in unblinking repose upon the zabrak, seeming too unmoving to be a study of the physical.  They then shifted slightly, nigh imperceptibly, and she blinked once, rapidly.

"I enjoy testing the limits of my abilities, exploring experiences," she spoke again in that musing tone, then a smile flashed upon her lips, showing some teeth, "I can open many things with pain, but pleasure is also a nice method ... sometimes those go together," she carried on, and again her exterior changed, seeming as fluid as the water she drank, "Oh, I've been here for three years, but I have recently wondered why I still don't have a Master.  I hadn't really thought much on it before, but ..." her voice trailed off.

An acolyte for three years at such an esteemed yet mysterious academy and she was left without finding a master? How unorthodox. If this had been Korriban, she would have been chosen or killed or perhaps assigned to tasks while she languished away forgotten. It was the usual manner of the Sith but this was no typical establishment. No, the Coil had methods all its own and he wondered what they held for a student like Pelagie.

To be left wanting for a master though was no easy thing to endure. Her exploring of sensations, of both pleasure and pain, could be rooted to such a desire. He understood it all too well.

The red-skinned Sith lord shifted his stance then, leaning against the bar and appearing almost off-guard, at ease even. It was an invitation of sorts but to what?

"Pleasure is often sought more than pain but each teaches its own lessons. So, you are left wanting for a master then? What is it you seek in such an individual? The student should have as much input as the master if you ask me."

Such thoughts filled her, for it seemed that she had simply bade her time in seeming ignorance, just going through her studies and learning and of course the fun, all with little care in how she conquered such. But now, something serious, critical seemed poised to happen.

"She should?" Pelagie managed after a moment's thought, pale brow furrowed beneath that striking, colorful hair, then she shrugged, "I had not really thought of it like tha-" then she narrows her eyes, looking at him, "Wait a minute ... since when do we get to choose our Masters? Did you choose yours?" she points the index finger of her right hand at him, arm bent at the elbow, the nail made all the more potent with the rich layer of deep purple lacquer upon it.

"Actually, I did."

The young Sith Lord's stance changed then, his body language growing less relaxed and more serious as he moved to place his brandy cup on the bar and cross his arms loosely across his wiry chest.

"My master was hardly typical of the Sith... but then again, what Sith isn't their own? That is what separates us from the Jedi. The Sith make their own path and they do so because it is their birthright. I took it upon myself to show my former master that I was worth being selected, that I, as an acolyte, had chosen them to be the one to help hone my skills and show me how to bend the Force to my will. There were others he considered but in the end, it was me that received that honor because I had willed it so. So yes, I did choose my own master."

A poor choice now but then, it was different.

"Why should you not have a say in who helps to shape your destiny?"

Pelagie looked away again, indicative in her aspect of thoughts roiling about in her mind. She well understood the concepts of individuality. She had been reared in a place that was a monument to it, within a family that openly embraced it, but she also understood the currents and streams of guidelines, even rules.

"Of course I have a say. I can say 'no', but it seems that might lead to execution, or attempted execution at least, or ostracism," she narrows her eyes again, "It's not like they parade a bunch of Masters-seeking-Apprentice in front of us, and we get to pick or try to influence the choosing," she added, some sarcasm lacing into her tone, then she looks away, again thoughtful, "Still ..." she picks at her plump lower lip, obviously again lost in thought.

Belethir scoffed at the notion of the Sith parading around a bunch of Master who were looking for potential apprentices; that was a Jedi practice was it not? He smirked as he mulled over her words and answered in kind, thoroughly enjoying the philosophical exchange that was taking place between them.

"Ah, there is no such absurdities among the Sith, thankfully. But there is an amount of choice that goes into it. We can seem weaker or stronger than we actually are and that influences our master's choices. We can influence them even if it is not directly. In that, there is a sort of liberating power, a means to our own ends. We are the ones who prosper in the end from their teachings and if we don't, well... we find a way to find a new teacher and dispose of the old. How do you think I ended up here?"

Pelagie drew in the right side of her mouth, that cheek poofing as the lips pressed together and up. Her eyes stay on the man, though her focus seemed to shift without any change in those orange orbs.

"I suppose, but that seems like it may just get you killed. Oh, well, I'll think about it, though," then her expression seeming to instantly change from careless to calculating, "You could almost say something like that for the school. A lot of things happen here due to favor, and it's not just teachers who dole that out."

Belethir's continence darkened for a moment as he looked off, out the window and watched the rain fall down the panes. The academy was an enigma to him still, even as a fellow seeker of knowledge and her words weighed heavily in his heart. What sort of people were the instructors and what were they training their apprentices?

Some secrets were worth looking into despite the danger.

He turned back to Pelagie and the playful smirk returned, although it did not quite reach his eyes as it had before. His mind was elsewhere but he continued the discussion nonetheless.

"Mind expounding on that?"