Whiskey and Philosophy

"Twice, actually. Because once wasn't enough to learn my lesson."

She flipped her cards over. 19. She took a drag of the cigarette, then pulled the chips to her for organization into neat stacks in front of her. She refreshed their glasses while she waited for him to pick a juicy bit to spill.

A couple more hands and she had revealed that she was a prime candidate for mother of the year, having striped her daughter of the force and forced her to serve under her with a fear of murdering her former in-laws while he had dredged a couple more skeletons from his closet to be put on display. There was a particularly messy hand in front of both of them. The pot had jacked up to a large pile of chips, haphazardly thrown in an attempt to get to a safe hand without busting and with no sense of trepidation, Sin pressed her luck.

"Damnitall," she cried as she flipped over the last of her 5 cards to reveal that she had busted. A woeful look at the amount of chips made her shudder as she pushed her chair back and stared at the cards. This was going to have to be a bombshell. She bit the corner of her mouth, her eyes far away and distant as she flipped through the files of blood and torment she had caused, looking for something suitable enough that would satisfy the bargain. At last, she had something.

"I was the one behind the Sith Empire rising on Korriban a couple years ago. It was an exercise in the feasibility of uniting the Sith of the galaxy under a common banner. I used my intelligence network to locate and recruit as many Sith as I could find to serve under an Emperor. But there was never an Emperor. I mean, there was, but he was merely a pawn outfitted with enough special effects and talismans that he would appear to be whoever the Sith needed him to be. When I realized that the Sith would fall to infighting and distrust, I arranged to have myself sent away. The Empire crumbled but I knew that if I wanted to be the ultimate power in the galaxy, I had to find another way. Then a madman took the helm of the Mandalorians and I had a chance. Taung H'rel was my ally. I didn't know he was going to blow up a few planets but we both knew Ashrah had to be stopped. So Taung fed me intel, and I used it to help unite the galaxy against the Mandalorians. I took the reins of Dark Tide and created the Galactic Empire from it."

She stood up rolling her shoulders back, her mood suddenly very serious and her face every bit of the mask of the Emperor. She had just divulged exactly how she had manipulated the galaxy into her hands and grabbed power from fragments of the crumbling Republic and the mess that Iniquitous had left of his one time faction. Now that it was the Empire, the glory and triumph of it were solely hers.

"I know, no state secrets. But Taung is dead and who are you going to tell? You could kill me with a thought, but you haven't yet. If you want to punish me, you're more than welcome to try."

She chuckled, crossing the silky plush carpet to the wet bar. She needed some water to help sober her up, as it occured to her after speaking she probably shouldn't have told him that but for reasons she could never put her finger on, she trusted him. She just handed him the keys to her destruction; if he ever wanted to break her down to nothing, he had the roadmap to the bodies. She gulped down a tall glass of water, leaning her back against the bar. Her hair was fully dry now, full of voluminous frizzy curls that did not want to stay put behind her ears.

"I think you're the first person to ever call me noble. I must be getting soft in my old age. That's it, I need to kill something. Besides shooting you in the face, of course." She rested her elbows on the bar behind her, the v-neck of her tunic open enough to display the leather cord and crystal lying against her breastbone. She fiddled with the chip in her hand, the glass of water empty behind her on the smooth and finely crafted bartop. There was something playful in her tone, it danced in her eyes and the weight of throne was forgotten once more as she poked him in the ribs. "It seems like nothing I say surprises you. Do I have any secrets that you haven't managed to root out with your well placed spies?"

"Go ahead. It's a piece of crystal I bought off a gem smuggler ages ago. He claimed it was from the caves on Ilum where the Jedi mined crystals for their lightsabers but it would never work in a saber hilt for me. So I used it as a seed crystal in an alchemy ritual. It's slightly bigger than the initial shard because of the encasement I put around it. I'm never without it." The look in his eyes was causing her to be a little wary as he reached for the gem at her neck. It was warm to the touch as though it contained an inner fire; an orange flame that danced in the light made of her passion and a drop of Reverance's blood.

She was looking directly up into his face, breathing distance from her, but his attention focused on the crystal around her neck. She couldn't help but notice how damn tall he was, hunched over to examine the piece of his former home structure that she had corrupted to her dark presence. Murmuring in a voice best reserved for late night jazz deejays, she sought to break his concentration on the tiny shard she had long kept as her most prized possession. "And here I thought you just liked spending time with me..."

There was a tension growing between them, the sharing of close space and breathing room that seemed to ratchet it up a few notches when her drunken mind realized that she wanted to kiss him. Not one to shy away from an impulse when she meets one, she slid her free hand up to the back of his neck to bring his lips to hers in a very slow, deliberate kiss. It was not a peck on the lips, nor was it a full on, deep passionate thing of love stories or epic sagas. Over in a couple seconds, she pulled back from it to see what those eyes of his would say to her, but her hand still rested on the back of his neck, waiting to see if the tightness in her chest was shared by the fallen god before her.

All logical thought in Sinistra's mind ceased when his lips met hers again and this time, there was nothing timid or shy about the way her lips and tongue moved against his. The poker chip dropped to the floor and she wrapped both arms around his neck, her body pressed to his. A natural progression of their intimacy, there was no guard to be let down, no dagger to be sunk into her back, no hidden agenda to worry about in his arms. However the angle at which her neck was tilted to accommodate his height was uncomfortable. Or at least it would have been were her alcohol soaked brain functioning at the moment. The reptilian brain was winning the war for control of her body and she was able to slow him down with some nonverbal cues and get him to pay attention to things like pressure, teeth and the subtle need for tension in the lips. It was true that initially, he was rough around the edges, within a couple minutes they were on the same page as he drew her close, lifting her petite form off the ground, his arms wrapped around her midsection tightly. Nose to nose, she paused the moment to let a small smile tug at the corner of her mouth. "I think this is about to get complicated."

Her kisses trailed across his cheek to his ear where her warm breath was combined with playful licks and nibbles on his earlobe and neck, her eyes trained on the very large, very plush bed visible through a doorway behind him. She politely suggested it would be nice if he were to put her down in the other room, something he was all too eager to oblige her. Wrapped around him, she gave into the dark whisperings of her carnal desires, her inhibitions erased by the lull of the Black Cask. Clothes were strewn about in the darkened room and the Sith Lord proved a patient teacher as she allowed the ancient soul bound in the flesh of a young man to explore another glorious aspect of blessed humanity. Their tryst lasted long enough that sobriety began to peak through their drunken facades and they fell exhausted on bed, their hearts and breaths slowing with the passing minutes.

Laying on her side propped up on her right elbow with her hair a mess, she exhaled a puff of silvery blue smoke as she watched him. The sheets were draped over them, covering them from the chill of the room, but the very smooth cotton was not dense enough to hide the thick black lines of ink that crossed her back and legs. Her forearms were covered in strange black runes. But as distracting as the ink was to the eyes, the scars over her body were much more garish. Her back was covered in thick welts, telltale signs of a severe whipping. There were burns on her torso, stab wounds and a very large bite mark on the back of one thigh where she had been attacked by something that would have killed a lesser person. She was a study in opposites; dressed for success, the suits and cloaks never divulged the ugly secrets that her skin would. She had fought for every piece of power she managed to attain. But contrast, his body was blank of the scars he must have accumulated over the thousands of years he had lived.

The ashtray sat between them with the silence as she waited for him to finish his contemplation and decide what a colossal mistake this experiment in human reproductive behavior had been. She did not regret her actions, she had needed the release and why not with someone she could be herself with? She licked her lips again, the taste of the spiced paper on them. She couldn't read him, but the silence was making her feel unsettled. Granted this was all new to him, it could be better than she expected. She just never expected much as she never had much luck with relationships. Her lovers tended to disappear, something she felt acutely aware of as she remembered his imminent demise.

Screw this demure, waiting for approval, sexist crap. She butted out the cigarette and set the ashtray on the nightstand before she rolled herself on top of him, her dark brown eyes searching his. "I'm no good at being coy. I was really lonely for a long time, then you found me. And I don't have to be on guard with you. So whatever this is, whatever it was, whatever it will be from now, I'm not sorry for a minute of it. But I'm leaving that part in your hands. You decide, I abide." She dipped her head to kiss him quickly on the lips, a cheesy grin accompanied a wink. "I did mean to rhyme."

"Spoken like a man who didn't just drunkenly bed his best friend." She chuckled as she relaxed down next to him, her leg draped over his. His fingers were tickling her thigh where the ink ran over the scar. All of her tattoos had been painstakingly reinked over every scar she had attained. She rolled her eyes over the thought of his words, her voice sarcastically syrupy as she replied.

"The Republic can go to hell, I'm the damn Emperor. The Empire, well, my sex life is none of their business. Your enemies? Those asshats that ambushed you in the cabin? Well, they might make me pause about half a second. The only people scared to die are the ones who haven't lived. But to return to your previous statement and that shit eating grin on your face, you sound like this wasn't just some random drunken impulse. I hate to be the buzzkill, but what about the Major?"

She wasn't going to mention Reverance, the fiery crystal still hanging from her throat, warm against her skin. Complicated was right. She loved Reverance. She always had. She always would. The care she had growing in her heart for Eralam did not diminish the love she had for Rev. Love was never a finite resource to her. So looking down at the fallen god, she did not feel regret for her actions. Whenever Reverance decided to address their separation and his ruse, they would address it. In the meantime, she wanted to not be lonely. She needed support and a shoulder to lean on. Eralam was giving her that. "And I would really rather call you Eralam. Unless, of course, you forbid it."

"I suppose this means we will have to be careful with thinking about each other if this little shard can rift us across the galaxy with a thought." She liked the feeling of his arms around her, but she felt the need for water and to stretch her legs. She was fidgety, with a raised eyebrow she wrested herself from him and slid off the edge of the bed, digging around for her shirt and leggings. She ventured out of the bedroom, digging through the snacks as she sneaks an eye at the clock. It was the early hours of the morning, and she wanted breakfast. She got her water glass off the bar, refilling it as she peered into the darkness of his bedroom. "You hungry?"