[/img]"http://i.imgur.com/FXQBglf.png" style="avatar" style="max-width:25%;float:right;margin:0 0 18px 18px;]Sometimes, it was easier just to listen to the silence than it was to shatter it, though whenever Demagol spoke, Rhailo considered these messages to be exceptions to her general rule. As he was, assisted by his stoic air, the Mandalorian imposed indomitable will upon the situation without ever intending to. He just had a way of making her want to please him, and while there was nothing immediately pressing about his demands, they were still habits she would have to ponder. To not apologize to him would be tedious work. To be herself around him might prove even more difficult. Still, the Auroun could learn, and at the very least, try to the fullest extent of her capabilities. It was a constant battle to ignore the fear of vilification that made the woman uneasy, as though she could lose what interest he garnered in her by granting him that wish. There was more to Psionics than she cared to train for, and even more to that route than she cared to explore. The S'zari knew what she could potentially do, though.
Perhaps Demagol didn't. She could only hope this remained a buried mystery for the time being.
It may have been fortunate that Demagol had no idea how little confidence Rhailo had for herself, but neither brought it into the open, and in such, it wasn't a topic of interest. Another time, another place. Certainly not with the Auroun clinging to the edges of consciousness, letting him maneuver her actions without even noticing the changes in their positioning. "I can only be me." It was a soft musing, laced with that half awake playfulness one could only convey when they were exhausted. "Only me, only for you.." Wrapped in that warm embrace, features were leaned lower to nuzzle at his hand, lips parting over finger tips for wet kisses. Her tongue flicked with teasing licks, swishing remnants of juices from the imprints. Hers was a strange sort of affection, all gentleness and spit, and she seemed all the more content when he refrained from dislodging his cock. The muscles worked against the embedded member even now, a naturally attempt to try and remove the invasion, but Rhailo was firm in her anchoring.
He promised to never let her go, after all.
"I wasted your time." The Auroun said right before a brief yawn struck her, causing her affections at his hand to cease for the time being. Turned back towards the window, the light show was ceased while her lids closed to the dark room, leaving those fantasy sailors and their ship on the weather ravaged ocean to fend for themselves without audience. Rhailo loved silly tricks, and sillier stories, and mostly, she loved what her eyes could do. So mundane compared to the plethora of options the rest of her skill set was capable of, yet she had never striven for more than safety. If she could get away with trickery and foolish illusions, what more could there really be to learn? "I'll always waste time though. Yours, mine... Procrastination's my middle name." Though, that wasn't true. Her middle name was Taicho. "I just want to leave Nar Shaddaa..."
But for someone so keen on running off in a hurry, Rhailo was quite literally hanging on to consciousness by a thread.
All these kisses came to a very tired woman, but she would press feather light responses to his lips in their wake. Over and over until his last words came. How he sewed together this plan for the two of them, she couldn't really know. In such a short time, she had gone from being a credit chit with legs to something far more valuable-- but why? The negatives of their arrangement never left the rear of her mind, as all horrible thoughts tended to stick around longer than they were welcome to. Her kind weren't easy to come by this far outside of their native galaxy, and while the S'zari offered chump change, she knew there were other parties still searching for an Auroun. Many reasons were common, each less savory than the last, but those requests put their duo in harm's way regardless what purpose others might have for a Psion.
Pangs of guilt trickled across her features like a sign of pain, but they dispersed with a shake of her head. She sighed.
Pillows played crown to her messy locks as she replied, "Just don't leave me behind." But in the farthest reaches of her mind, the comment translated to 'Don't let me leave you behind', as she had others over and over again. Demagol saw her run through the city without a friend to call upon in her state of dire need, and he was partially right in assuming she couldn't trust anyone with such a task. Not because it was impossible to find someone willing to submit to her-- On the contrary, the Auroun was skilled in the art of persuasion. One of the few mental abilities she had honed over the years. She just didn't care to bring anyone into the fray of her nomadic existence. Cutting ties had been as simple a task as walking down the street, and when she wronged someone by letting them get too close to her, it always ended poorly.
Mostly, Rhailo wasn't a killer. She had killed, of course, as this was a dirty planet full of scum. Herself included under such a tagline. But, her regrets branched further than such acts; centralized on those she led astray who wanted nothing more than to help. People died so she could live, over and over, until the woman stopped letting anyone close enough to put themselves at risk. Such was, and always would be, her life. Rhailo expected Demagol to experience these hardships first hand, but it was that selfishness she harbored that kept the creature from stating as much. Pretending he knew what he was getting into was the best she could do to calm erratic nerves. As things were, she was too tired to express true guilt anyway. Profile was placed into the pillow as her body curled into the fetal position, leaving him with little option other than to curl around her accordingly.
"Good night, Dema." Murmuring these words, the Auroun followed instruction afterwards, and slept. Comfortable doing so until he was ready to direct her otherwise.
BDRP Admin. Writer. Villain. Personal Blog.
I tried running from the memory and the mourning.
I tried running from the memory and the mourning.
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