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twentysomething Sith Dusk and Taliar
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Milliways: the bar at the end of the universe. It's a bit crowded today, with a group of brightly-colored lizard people taking up several of the tables in the main bar and a more usual assortment of patrons scattered densely around the rest of the room - well, except for by the fireplace, where one patron is being given a somewhat conspicuous amount of space - perhaps it's the intimidating all-black outfit, or the way she's muttering to herself as she reads from the book she's holding, or the almost feral way she looks up when anyone in her field of view moves too quickly, but no one seems to want to get especially close to her.

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Gosh, that's sure a thing. The small teenage human emerging from the Infirmary over there pauses and blinks at her.

He is wearing unremarkable clothes with a low-tech aesthetic, and around his neck there is a simple chain necklace with a large glowing pendant shaped like a stylized bird with wings outstretched in flight. It's mostly a sunny golden colour, with hints of blue and silver shifting under its surface. And it has things to say.

It says that this is a person with an incredible drive to bring happiness and fulfillment to everyone around him. He wants good things for people - all people, if he can manage it, and if he can't then at least as many as possible. It says that he is a person around whom the definition of 'possible' tends to be broader than you'd think. It says that he is charming and clever and eloquent and insightful and friendly and forgiving and making inroads on wise. It says that he will not maliciously deceive, will keep his word if at all possible, will never misrepresent himself as on your side when he's not; it says he loves to solve problems and to leave everyone in a situation better off than they would have been without him, and he is very very good at both those things.

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She looks up, when he comes out, stares, just a little, and goes back to her book. Mutter mutter.

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...

He approaches.

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She seems to be ignoring him, and then when he gets too close, growls, low in her throat, without any change of body language - it's merely a thing that's happening, until she catches herself, stops, closes her book and looks at him. "Yes?"

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"- hi," he says. "You look like you might need some help."

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More staring, at his face and then at his pendant. "...not the wisest of choices."

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"What do you mean?"

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It takes her a while to respond. "...might, be better for everyone if I lose. And I might kill you if I get a chance." She reaches up absently to pet the powder-blue puff of fur perched on her shoulder, which goes whmmmmm.

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"I have a city-sized healing aura, I'm kind of difficult to kill. What's that?"

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Huh.

"...poof, from the - security room. Localized anti-injury."

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"Well, that's useful. Why might it be better if you lose? Lose what?"

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"I'm going to kill my master." A statement of fact, delivered promptly, and then she stops to think. " - I'm going to try to kill him. Because he's trying to make me into a monster, and mostly succeeding, so I'm going to kill him. - or he'll kill me, but." (Whummmmmm.)

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"...okay, and what's better about losing?"

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"- killing him doesn't make it stop, it just means I can try to."

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"What's he doing...?"

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"...I have magic. And if you... use it wrong, it - wrecks your impulse control, first, and then other things. Emotion-based, makes it harder to do anything else. Not - too dangerous, usually, but he started assigning me things, and I didn't notice - dumb, stupid to trust a Sith."

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"...mm," he says. "Yeah, that's a problem all right. And it doesn't sound like you trying and failing to kill him would stop him from doing that kind of thing to somebody else."

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"...mm. ...hasn't before, think. Wasn't - " she pauses, and then hisses, frustrated. "Don't know."

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"Do you have - somewhere to go after you kill him?"

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Woggly hand motion: enh. "Plan but not that part. 'F I kill him I get his stuff. Others'll try to kill me but if I get out quick, should be fine, ship and plenty of money and nobody says no to a Sith."

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"Do you need help with it?"

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Consider, consider, consider, huff. "Maybe? And - Bar thinks the droid is a person; safer for her if it's faster."

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"I don't know what a droid is."

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She gestures at a table a little ways away where a person made of metal is talking to a blue-skinned person with moth wings and antennae.

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He follows the gesture, looks, sees.

"Huh. All right."

A moment's thought, and -

"Do you need to kill him or do you just need him dead?"

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