Hmm...

"Well, probably shouldn't go outside. I just fixed the whole dust and sweat situation."

"We could read some poetry."

He laughs. It's weird to him that that immediately sounds like a good idea.

"Why not?"

"All right." She sits on the bed next to him. "Do you want to look through my library, or should I recite some for you?"

Not to be outdone in comfiness, he flops backwards onto the covers.

"You pick one first."

"All right. Hey Daisy," she raises her voice a bit, "I'm going to do your favorite."

The mystery door opens; the room beyond is very small, made smaller-feeling by its dark blue walls with their silver wheat patterns and the wooden desk that takes up the entire back wall. There's barely room for both droids to stand inside, but they don't seem uncomfortable. "With the-"

"Yup," Dusk cuts her off with a grin. "Don't spoil it for him."

--Oh. Tiny room. Maybe droids don't get claustrophobic...?

It's a bit jarring when he realizes they're being observed, but he tries to relax himself enough to listen to whatever is so good she doesn't want it spoiled.

She stands again, off to one side by the door to the workroom so that both Daisy and Kai-Zi can see her. (Daisy scoots out of the room a bit to make room for Nine in the doorway.) A wave of sparks makes its way up her arms to crackle briefly around her collarbone, and then -

- her body language changes, Sithy and powerful, with an aura of presence that has nothing to do with being threatening, and she recites:

"Out of the night that covers me,
      Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
      For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
      I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
      My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
      Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
      Finds and shall find me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
      How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate,
      I am the captain of my soul."

As she speaks, the lightning returns, intermittent red sparks emphasizing the words, intensifying and building with each line, each stanza, until she's entirely covered in a cloak of red and blue.

...He thinks that deserves a slow clap. So he delivers.

The more he opens it up in his mind the more he likes it.

"...bloody, but unbowed."

He can tell this is hers. Not that she wrote it, it's just...hers.

"Where do you find this stuff?"

"I have a couple subscriptions. And I've been collecting since I was younger than you."

"...how old are you, actually? I can't tell."

"Thirty-six, thirty-seven?" She shoots a look at Daisy.

"Thirty-six. For another few months."

"...Huh. Guess that makes sense."

He wasn't really thinking of her as more than ten years older than him. Weird.

"Yeah. It's not quite the same as somebody Forceblind, but. Been around a bit, yup."

Oops, that's kind of attractive again. He's just gonna...let that feeling be.

"Do all of us live longer, or just the really impressive ones? They were always pretty vague about that."

"I think it varies by how powerful you are? It's kind of hard to tell, old age isn't that common." (She sits back down on the bed.)

Chuckle.

"Yeah, lightsaber fights don't tend to make your lifespan any longer, huh?"

He thinks for a moment.

"...and someone picks up almost all of us, in the end, so we don't get to avoid it."

He's a little mad about that.

"Yeah." Arm: over shoulders. "It's not the worst atrocity out there, but-"

"--but...not great."

"...I mean, it probably didn't do much to shorten my lifespan, but still."

"It might, still. You look like a Jedi, or at least not like a Sith; most of us would break out the lightsaber first and ask questions never."