Theed

"Wood? Your cane was just wood and some metal?"

The words were dim, on the periphery of his perception. His pulse pounded in his ears - and he saw the Echani's lips move, and the force begin to well in response. A Witch. He had fought their kind before. He gathered power, intending to simply clamp the woman's jaw shut - and probably break her jaw in the process - when Raven's next words registered more fully.

"Knowing you- I half expected it to hide a sword or something."

"A...sword?" His cane had a sword in it, didn't it? Arcturus' gaze lowered, taking in his outstretched hand, even now pierced by several splintered pieces of wood. No. There was no sword. Where was it? Where was his blade? "My sword...no, I haven't carried one in..." Arcturus slowly lowered his hand, releasing his grip through the force. His brow furrowing, he shut his blade off and clipped the saber to his belt as comprehension dawned on him. "I haven't carried one in twenty years."

"I might seem just as bright as before- but in a universe as dark as this one- any source of hope always seems blinding. So here's something not so lighthearted- Sinina- your feelings for Jashin, no matter how kind, cannot dictate the feelings others have toward him."

Arcturus' brow was still furrowed, part confusion, part embarrassment on his face. Slowly, now looking far older and frailer than he had before, he sank into the chair he had been seated at before his fit. "Jashin? Yes...I'm here for Jashin. To train him. Yes..." He muttered under his breath, picking up the shattered pieces of his cane and gathering them in his lap.

"...certainly someone of your position can take the situation with... a bit more poise."

Raven's words focussed him, and Arcturus' eyes fell on the woman. His mouth setting into a grim line, he waved her words away dismissively. "Yes...of course."

Throughout Sinina's words, Arcturus just waved a hand dismissively - ultimately gesturing to a server, or anyone attentive - to fetch alcohol. Any alcohol. After she left, he could only sigh, turning an eye to Raven

"I am afraid that things are...more complicated than when we last met. I have Dyson's Syndrome - a Firrerreo Regenerative disorder. Common in the elderly. My...mood swings...Arcturus looked distinctly uncomfortable at those words...are one of my many symptoms."

Arcturus took a deep breath, and hopefully a drink, before shaking his head and continuing forward.

"I will be frank. I do not have much longer to live. Neither does Dante, my son; he has inherited the same disease. I have sensed my book being used, its arts unleashed. Explain this. You may also explain my grandson's behavior while he has been in the...employ of my son."

She frowned, half expecting him to be there on behalf of Raven, who must be sick of her by now. The Empath probably would like the break from her and her seemingly constant emotional turmoil lately. She sighed deeply as she looked at Zalor.*

I was born on Mustafar where my Father lived. Because he went crazy and tried to kill my Mother and us kids.. Loki killed him. We went from there to Dathomir living with the Nightsisters..my mother even became the Matriarch. At 8.. She sent me here to be raised by a family who works on the Royal Council..

*She sighed again. She probably didn't look it right now. She had changed from an elegant dress into a combat suit that hugged her body after her and Jashins commotions early in the day. Nor was she in the mood or felt like maintaining her more upper class accent. Even her hair, wasn't looking that regal right now, her quickly done bun looked anything but upper class.*

I don't know what you'd call m--

*She stopped, growing tense as a new being interjected, one she didn't see in the Inn, not part of the group that she'd sat with. She stared at him intently as he started to speak.*

Count. Ha. More like Crackpot.

*She narrowed her silver eyes at him as he mentions Jashin, again, everyone assuming that it was about Jashin.*

Okay. I kissed him. That doesn't mean everything revolves around him. I'm Echani. My mother was once married to a Mandalorian. My brothers being raised by them. These cultures revolve around Family. You don't just throw it away. No one deserves to be alone.

*Her words again, could sound like they talked of Jashin, not that she saw it that way, her words described herself, if any had the ability to peer over the walls she had long ago built in her mind. Walls that were cracking and leaking. Sin's fist shake, as did her shoulders. She closed her eyes tightly. Trying to bottle her emotions before the ran off with her again. She breathes deeply, slowly, trying to prevent the tears that threatened to form again.*

"Mister Ryder. Jakk Ryder." Jakk replied, his easy smile turning into a disappointed frown as his appropriated credit chip flew out of his hand. Undaunted, Jakk gave a somewhat haphazard bow, continuing on without missing a beat. "I'm Count Sunshine's...well, I suppose you could call me an attaché. Specialized help and whatnot." As he spoke, he leaned back against the alley wall, a fresh cloud of Cigara smoke following the motion. "My business is keeping an eye on all things Jashin. And Sinina Riso here...is most definitely Jashin related."

At that his bored gaze returned to the woman, taking in her glowing tattoos, and still emotional form. Sighing - another cloud of smoke following - he let the cigara fall to the ground, grinding the spent filter into the ground with the heel of his boot. "You kissed him? Jashy-boy fell far from the tree indeed if he's cavorting with aliens." He held his hands up defensively at what would likely be quick retorts from the emotional woman. "I mean no disrespect, sweetheart, I've done some cavorting in my time as well." Jakk's eyes seemed to unfocus at that, remembering some past debauchery that what was likely unimaginable in magnitude, before they focussed and he snapped back to the present.

"...These cultures revolve around Family..."

"Of course, of course...and I'm sure from your point of view Sunshine is being a disrespectful codger. The only thing I'd offer in response to that is that Firrerreo take matters of clan and family far more seriously - gravely so - than practically any other culture in the galaxy. To leave or turn your back on the clan is death. Or worse - exile, as is the case of Jashy. A Firrerreo exiled from his clan isn't even Firrerreo anymore. He doesn't exist - quite literally in the minds of his clansmen." Jakk held up a hand, taking the time to light a new cigara, before continuing on.

"I don't 'spect an alien like you to understand the Firrerreo way, and by extension of that I don't expect you to forgive it all. But I would...encourage...you to go easy on Sunshine." Jakk shrugged slightly. "Sunshine is a noble of high order, and even associating with an exile is heinously damaging to his position. The fact he's gone to the lengths of tracking down his grandson and is inviting him back into his clan? That itself warrants exile on his part. So don't suggest to him that he's not doing his part as a family member - he's gone above and beyond his duty, and is risking the very thing that is most important to a Firrerreo; family, culture, and purpose."

Jakk wound down, taking a long drag on his cigara, before pushing off the alley wall. "I digress...I've done my duty as damage controller and interspecies diplomat. I'm heading to the Rhyatt Inn" He said, referencing a somewhat seedy day-to-day inn, about five minutes away). "When you are ready to go after Jashy-boy, come find me. Room 302. Jashys always been a pirate....but I fear he may have bitten off more than he can handle this time. Now...toodles."

Spinning on his heel, Jakk headed out of the alley, apparently intent to immediately go to the inn. However, as a somewhat shapely Rodian walked by, he promptly reversed direction, following the alien and striking up a conversation. Presumably he would still be at the inn he had indicated.

...presumably.

Arcturus listened intently, nodding at Loki as he was introduced, but otherwise simply sat still, listening to the woman's words. He wasn't particularly worried (or interested for that matter) about the woman Raven identified as Sinina. At her explanation of pulling Jashin out of an escape pod in orbit, he raised an eyebrow - but didn't comment. He shouldn't be too surprised he supposed, he very likely would get into various sundry predicaments by the time Arcturus got ahold him. The thought of it already wearied him, and Arcturus shifted slightly in his seat, not exactly looking forward to training the youth.

"The tome was only used once- And only by one person...Me.... It's a rather long story and I've already payed the price for dabbling in things I don't fully understand- but it was worth it...Sorry- This is the first time I've told anyone. My silence is probably why I'm still in the order."

Now that, that was surprising indeed. Arcturus spluttered slightly on his drink, wiping a hand across his mouth before regarding her with a critical eye. Did she bear any marks? Had his own powers dimmed so much that he hadn't even noticed? Extending a tendril of though, extending a hand, he closed his eyes, questing. Yes. There it was...faint...like a disease. The mark pulsed in response to his probe, and he withdrew - knowing it was probably pouring pain into her. The realization that a fragment of his old work had been before him, and he had not sensed it, was more distressing than anything previous. Truly, it was a living and breathing sign that he was diminishing.

"...You have erred, Alora. You have erred greatly." Arcturus leaned back, his arms crossing, and he closed his eyes, gathering his presence of mind, his will, steadying himself, before continuing forward. "In the beginning days of my House, we were actually three families; Corvus, Deveaux, and Creed. Myself and two others were the patriarchs of large families - the last survivors of the Firrerre genocide. We three were force-sensitive...and we devised a way to ensure the continuation of our species in the face of extinction. We would create a ritual, constructed from strictures and writs from half a dozen force religions, in order to forcibly strengthen our connection through the force." Arcturus poured himself another drink, wiping up the mess he had made when he choked, before taking a sip.

"The ritual was based on the legend of Kar Vastor - who communed with the living force to become stronger, but lost his voice as a result. We aimed to use this same process, but magnified ten fold. We would gain power, but would be cursed for all our days. This is why we call ourselves "Sorrows". For, to this day, every Sorrows dies a tragic death, with all he loves dying around him, until he himself succumbs as well." Arcturus grew quiet, shaking his head silently, before gesturing vaguely. His mind far away, remembering the past, some millennia ago.

"We created a variety of devices. Each unique, each augmenting the bearer in various ways. You bear a mark, do you not?" As he spoke, Arcturus unbuttoned his shirt, bearing his chest, exposing a swirling series of glyphs and symbols, intricate and complex, nearly geometric in fashion - highly resembling formulae and equation - which spiraled outward from his heart and down his limbs. "Does it pain you? Urge you forward? Hungry for knowledge. Changing you into something...else? It would be a slow process."

Raven watched the Firrereo closely, listening intently to everything he said. It did not bode well that his first words were "you have erred". That created a pit in her stomach- one that only grew larger as he continued to explain, before showing off the prestige of his story- the mark. Just looking at it made the small Jedi visibly shutter.
You could have told me your literature was booby-trapped.
She said- in a vain attempt to relax, mainly herself. it didn't work. Her words came out more like a mumble than the light hearted 'nothing's wrong with the universe' feeling she was going for. Swallowing, and clearing her throat- she carefully unclasped her cloak again, revealing a portion of the twisted scrip that spun out from its center. Just discussing the subject had made the marking's edges glow crimson, almost as if they were on fire- painful fire.

And to think- the whole time she considered this a strange combination of the sith sorcery, and the wound inflicted by Legion's dagger. She wasn't sure anymore- perhaps it still was, after all- the wound at the center of the much larger mark still refused to heal, even after the better part of a decade.

Glancing around cautiously, the Jedi quickly fastened her cloak's clasp, chewing on her lower lip in thought. She couldn't look at Arcturus right now. There was a significant reason why she hadn't told anyone- for as he had just said. She had erred.
It's difficult to explain... She began, the life in her voice when greeting him dwindling to an almost hollow sound. No one's seemed to notice anything- except me. I wanted to keep turning pages- I wanted to delve deeper, but I suppose that's the nature of all dark things. I know where the book is- but not its key. She closed her eyes. I gave that to a friend of mine- beyond reproach. only she knows where it is now. I .... I couldn't risk tempting myself. Eventually I just left Felucia, Courscant...everywhere. That's probably why you had such a difficult time finding me. She frowned thinly I guess I'm not as bright as you thought I was.

Raven nodded slowly when he spoke of her mark- and then frowned, deep in thought when he mentioned the dagger. The image of such a weapon flashed to her mind and she gently ran a finger over where the tainted weapon had indeed pierced her, wincing slightly. Stabbed- maybe not so violently- intent to kill...certainly. That force demon fouled me up more than it realized...She murmured and closed her eyes with a sign. Clearing her throat, she folded her hands on the table and looked pointedly at him.

This isn't the first time I've had some exterior force pushing me to evil ends Arcturus. I'm an empath- Other's emotions have held tight sway on me in the past. I've lived with this mark for a while now. Her eyes told him she was by far, not making light of the situation, and she added to that by noting her vulnerability. I have contingency plans, trusted people I know who can handle me if something should happen and I become a threat. Always have a friend who isn't afraid to kill you. She gave a small- joyless smile and shook her head.

She pursed her lips and looked away, part of her wanting to change the subject- to ignore it and starve the burning mark of attention. It hurts, A lot. I've learned to deal with it, but It's grown quite a lot sense I came by it. Separating myself seemed to help- but...something pulled me back. Perhaps- I shouldn't have returned.