The Dark Academy on Korriban

He chuckled, "It'd be informative if nothing else."

He took a sip of his drink as well, "So... shall we see if they have some music to play? Any requests?"

"Or a mike for a singing Twi'lek perhaps? I think I am tipsy enough to hit the stage."

Moyr asserted, elegantly hopping off her stool.

"Barkeep! Got a mike for our lovely friend here? I can vouch for her singing voice." Sylvain called out to the bartender.

Moyr claimed the mike and took the side-stage. She connected her datapad to the sound system and chose the pre-generated accompaniment. When the music started to play, she lowered her gaze and kept slowly shifting weight from leg to leg, working out the rhythm with the vacillations of her hips. When she started singing, she shot a long glance toward Zeno and Syl from underneath her lashes.

"You were alone and you were alive
Among the woken dead
He was a liar but not a tone
Still he went to your head

He said, I love you baby like a miner loves gold,
and this will never grow old

Lost in the ether, down in the blind
and not a word was said
but he was neither, vicious or kind
as he laid there and bled

His hands were on you and it felt just the same
as when he didn't know your name
and he said, I love you baby like a miner loves gold
and this will never grow old

Darkness for cover
temple in ruin
there's nothing left to feel
Goodbye lover, this is your doing
a heart against the wheel"

"Dont stop on my account," he says with a chuckle. "Let that passion blossom."

He smiled at Zeno's comment but shook his head, "It's not like that. Not yet, at least."

He then listened to Moyr's hauntingly beautiful tune. Memories of their kiss that night and mention of a lost lover on her part came rushing to his mind. There was a deep sadness in this woman, one that he felt inevitably drawn to for some reason.

As she finished up her song Sylvain clapped and smiled at her performance.

Emboldened or simply caught up in her own mood, Moyr didn't step off the stage. Instead, when the next musical track started playing, she closed her eyes and sang again, this time with even deeper emotion tricking out through octaves.

"Waking up is harder than it seems
Wandering through these empty rooms
Of dusty books and quiet dreams
Pictures on the mantle, speak your name
Softly like forgotten tunes
Just outside the sound of pain

Weren't we like a pair of thieves
With tumbled locks and broken codes
You can not take that from me
My small reprieves, your heart of gold

Weren't we like a battlefield
Locked inside a holy war
Your love and my due diligence
The only thing worth fighting for

Change will come to those who have no fear
But I'm not her and you never were
The kind who kept a rulebook near
What I said was never, what I meant
And now you’ve seen my world in flames
My shadow songs, my deep regret

Weren't we like a pair of thieves
With tumbled locks and broken codes
You can not take that from me
My small reprieves, your heart of gold

Weren't we like a battlefield
Locked inside a holy war
Your love and my due diligence
The only thing worth fighting for
The only thing worth fighting for"

Zeno applauded both performances, enjoying them a great deal.

"I guess that makes it my turn?" he says as he stands and moves to cross paths with Moyr and take the mike from her.

He was not one that had great ability to carry a tune. But growling did not require that. And so he began...

"A new life begins
Destroy Everything
Obliterate what makes us weak
Destroy Everything
Decimate what threatens me

Cleanse this world with flame
End this, cleanse this
Rebuild and start again
Obliterate what makes us weak

End this and embrace the destruction
End this to embrace new life
NEW LIFE

Even an empty threat deserves a response you won't soon forget
I must destroy everything that tries to infect
Even an empty threat deserves a response you won't soon forget
I must destroy everything that tries to infect
Destroy Everything
Obliterate what makes us weak
Destroy Everything
Decimate what threatens me

Cleanse this world with flame
End this, cleanse this
Rebuild and start again
Obliterate what makes us weak

End this and embrace the destruction
End this… "

Sylvain watched her carefully as she saying her second song. There was more emotion in the second ballad. Maybe the drinks had started to get to her, or maybe something was brought to her mind... not by alcohol. Either way, he was worried and wanted to help her get over get alcohol. Either way, he was worried and wanted to help her get over this terrible loss.

He clapped but a bit more reserved, with a comforting smile on his lips.

Zeno did her a favour by claiming the stage for his energetic, Sith-appropriate performance. It awoke her from whatever mental condition she had been in before. She rejoined Syl without a word and stared at the Deathwright gig. Her hand wrapped around her glass and a longer sip followed.

His follow up song is probably a bit more on the nose, but he feels it's appropriate for himself. It's clear there is a slight air of self loathing as he sings it.

"Noticing all these changes,
widening our fucking ranges,
writing down all these pages,
usually filled with rage when I jump onto the stages.
I’ve been demolishing your bullshit for ages,
this time I’m breaking it, our friendship, your smile.
See you in the city while you are faking it.

From Hertz Island we expanded,
never delivered or landed,
more than the label demanded.
Competition telling us to follow those guidelines, and to stay right handed
but music comes from the heart, lyrics from my head to my hand, and I 'm left handed.

My friend watch out for the traitors.
I see them but I try to close my eyes for the haters.

My name is Alexander,
the Raised Fist commander,
the unsinkable ship never stranded.
Not trendy, not even branded, 16 years and never disbanded,
from Hertz Island we expanded.

And I try to keep myself sober,
until the tour is over,
think I’ve grown a bit older.
I’m burning inside, but my outside is much colder,
competition telling us to follow guidelines, to stay right handed.
Music from the heart, lyrics from the head to my hand and I’m left handed."

After that one though he moves to take a seat with the others and downs the rest of his drink in one go.

"Beautiful songs Moyr. I felt drawn into the world you created in song." He smiled.

Watching the Deatwright sing as he sipped his drink next to Moyr, he smiled and started to think what he might sing if they pressured him to do so.

"And what have you found in there?"

She asked after a pause, in a voice in which passions didn't run free as if they had been worn out.

Zeno tapped the counter again, for his third drink, and downed his water as he waited for it. He was definitely drinking much more than he had since being here at the academy.

"Deep emotion. A sense of love, but perhaps lost love. It was quite poignant but beautiful." He said with a sincere look.

"Makes me remember good times with my father."

She nodded slowly as if she truly understood.

"It's easier to love ghosts than the living. Easier doesn't make it better, does it? Still, the fanthom emotion might often be as good a fuel as the real one in what drives us daily. At least we're not husks."

He smiled a slightly wounded smile and nodded, "A fighter running on fumes is better than one dead in space. Paying the price for fuel can hurt... but it does make the ride more enjoyable."

Zeno interjects. "Not husks indeed. Vessels. Vessels with unlimited potential to be filled with determination. Seeking to fill ourselves with power so that we can impose it on those that stand against us." There is an edge to his tone, not directed at anyone in particular. It's probably just his buzz.

He chuckled, "I figured you'd like the space vessel metaphor."

The moment was gone. Moyr smirked.

"I bet Lord Deathwright eats his peas by scattering them across the plate into a dogfight theatre."

He was too tipsy to realized he had shattered the moment. If he wasn't he probably would have stayed quiet and let them have it. "When I was younger, I actually did do things like that with my food. Piles of potato for capital ships, larger vegetables for cruisers, smaller vegetables for fighters, large pieces of meat for celestial bodies..."

"I know you too well, Zeno."

Moyr snickered.

"And sauce lines for gunshots and explosions."

He chuckled, "I hope your parents recorded the campaigns of Little Admiral Zeno."

"Something like that, Moyr. But it annoyed mother, though she let it go, since I often had a datapad out next to me and was actually studying and just using it for props," he replies with a shrug, and then a slight smile at the thought of his mother.

"So it was your mother who was bringing you up early on?"

Moyr asked not yet knowing where this line of inquiry could lead.