The Dark Academy on Korriban

"My, it sounds like you are asking me out on a date, Zeno," she says, brushing her nose against his cheek. ""Still, it sounds like a nice idea. I'll keep in touch with you, so we can figure out when we get some open slots in our schedules. Zash might still keep you busy after your first mission, after all."

"A strong possibility, but I'll just wantonly make demands of her like I did last time I talked to her in her office. I'm sure nothing will go wrong with doing so again." He smiled at Shaisha at that.

She quirks an eyebrow at that. "You live a dangerous life if you're continuing to be uppity towards that one. She might not tolerate it for too long..."

"Never get better if you don't test your limits and boundaries," he replies. "Gotta push. For instance, testing endurance and stamina."

As he says that he kisses her, his hand working it's way down down her side to her leg.

"True," her weight shifts slightly in response to his touch.

"But there is such a thing as choosing your battles wisely. Knowing when to wait..." Shaisha turns around, to better look at Zeno, "and when to preserve your strength," a kiss for his lips, "and when to strike."

"I've never been that great at preserving strength and choosing when to strike," he replies with a mischievous grin. "I've always been more of an act first, think about it later kind of guy." He gives her another kiss.

He rolls onto his back and pulls her on top of him. "It's gotten me into a fair amount of trouble, but I've survived so far, so I must be doing something right."

With is arms around her he holds her there and gazes into her eyes.

"I would hope you might consider a change of tactics for the future?" she chuckles and takes advantage of his open guard to kiss his neck.

"Luck only lasts so long, you know."

"Oh, it's not luck my dear Shaisha... it's skill, willpower, charm and more often than not having friends to help watch my back." He takes her hands in his and laces their fingers together.

"I prefer not to rely on luck. I suck at gambling."

"Oh, do you now?" she smirks, her fingernails touching the skin on the back of his hand as their hands fold together.

"I shall have to keep that in mind if we ever get time for some R&R. Hitting the most interesting cantinas, and then bleeding you dry in Sabaac."

"Oh, you don't want to do that," he replies giving her a small kiss. "If you take all my money at the tables, how am I supposed to buy you new dresses and fancy jewelry? I can't put myself in the poor house spoiling you if you do it to me first." He winks at her with a playful smirk.

She laughs quietly. "A good point. I shall have to accept bribes in the form of pretty gifts so as to spare you on the battlefield of the tables... then you can be my arm-candy as I rake in the winnings from the others."

"That sounds like a plan," he says, his thumbs slowly caressing her hands. "You're going to have to help me pick out something appropriate to wear for that though. Afraid I'm not much of a fashionista."

He kisses her on the neck as she responds, breathing deeply to take in her scent.

"I'm sure we'll get the opportunity to turn you into a proper noble yet," she replies, her head craning a little to the side as his kisses her neck.

"I guess Deathwright fashion-sense is uniforms, and more uniforms?"

"Not necessarily. While we have a few bad apples like myself, we also have a lot of proper nobles in our ranks. But you see the more vulgar ones in my messages because... well, I'm me," he replies. "There's a lot of us that don't mind those fancy parties. Every big group has it's cliques. But most of us know how to let our hair down. But you'll see squadron commanders at those types of outings."

"And what about your closest family members? Did you inherit your poor sense of fashion from your mother or father, perhaps, or are you truly the bad apple, as you called it?" her voice is laced in teasing tones.

"My father was never one for fashion, but my mother... you saw her in the picture. She's fashionable, charming and well connected to other families. On that front I kind of fell in line with my father. When I looked at him I would think about how powerful he was and that I wanted to be like that, so I tended to ignore those things. Mother tried, but that lesson just didn't take." His smile at those memories seems a bit more warm.

"A daddy's boy, then," she chuckles. "Well... neither of my parents could be called fashionista's really, though I think mother looked pretty all the time, so I don't think she needed to be. When she was still alive, I had to dress properly from a young age. More out of discipline than to make fashion-statements, I think."

She smiles fondly as well. "Still, growing up, I was expected to learn the ways of the Sith; not only the Code and lessons of the Force, but history and culture too... It's why I've had such a, hmm, classic education during my childhood."

"My father was always more interested in me learning the more practical side of being a sith. Got me a tutor that used to teach at the academy and had me focus on dueling and build groundwork for improving my abilities at piloting using the dark side," Zeno says with a smile. "Less history and more murder-death-kill stuff."

"Well the Murder-Death-Kill has come in handy for you, it seems," she says with a smile.

"The Torsins on the other hand, well, they're full blown nobles. I remember being taught tablemanners and stuff like that with them. And clothes became much more important. Always had to look your best."

"Table manners," he says with a chuckle. "A fork is a fork is a fork to me."

He kisses Shaisha's cheek. "And I can't imagine you not looking amazing in anything you wear... or don't." His kisses slowly move down one of her tentacles.

A soft moan escapes from her in response.

"Those girls were right. You do only think about one thing."

"That's not true. With them it was, but not with you," he replies with a smirk. "You are so much more than them. You have done more for me than anyone else in this place and I would not ever wish to do anything to harm what has grown between us." He smiles warmly at her.

"Careful," she smirks in return. "Some might think you're putting chains on yourself."

Her fingers move lightly down his sides. "And what will you do if we suddenly find ourselves on opposite sides of a conflict?"

He inhales and shivers lightly at the feeling of her fingers on his side.

"Let others think what they want. They don't get to tell me what I consider chains and what I consider strength. As for opposing you in a conflict, that really depends on the context. It's a bridge I'd have to cross if I ever came to it. If I sat around and thought about everything that could possibly go wrong with the future then I'd never accomplish what I want to today. And having to face you would be something wrong," he replies. "'What if' questions were never my strong suit."

"We'll never know if our masters ever pit us against eachother; the way of the Sith is a perilous one, but such is the fate of those with power."

"But, you're right. Worrying about the future accomplishes nothing."