Even relaxed, the open hostility falling away, their argument persisted. Her defense was decidedly unimpressive, and he wore his feelings on his brow as he looked over at her, aquamarines narrowing. "If I plead before a judge that only some of my friends were murderous pricks, but some were innocent, and that the gang we'd been butchering for the past few weeks were just as bad, how do you think they'd react?" He asked, cocking his head to the side. He was being generous with the framework he provided-- it actually implied that both sides were equally culpable, which he didn't believe for a second.
"If that shit helps you sleep at night, go ahead and swallow it, but at least try and make your Flavor Aid a little sweeter before asking me to drink it." he declared, before letting out a sigh, pressing his fingers to his temple. It was a pointless discussion-- neither would move each other from their position. She couldn't convince him that the regime responsible for hundreds of his sleepless nights, and more importantly, the deaths of millions of innocent people, didn't deserve to be mercilessly destroyed.
But he wouldn't be able to convince her that the institution she had dedicated years of her life to serving was a fundamentally evil monstrosity that ought to be laid to waste. He'd only learned to argue this long thanks to his many, many disputes with his master over the years. He knew when conversations could be productive and when they were utterly pointless. He didn't care if she bothered to grab the last word-- he wouldn't respond any further.
He couldn't help but smile at her joke and subsequent wink. For all her faults, the Sith seemed to have a sense of humor as dry as his own. He'd slipped from blood thirst to wit in a matter of minutes-- it was a testament to his volatility.
His subsequent breakdown came suddenly, but the tears baited for a moment as she suddenly moved forward. His eyes widened and he instinctively took a step back, but she carried no saber and her stance wasn't one of combat, her arms spreading wide open. No, this was something else, something he hadn't received in a long, long time.
She was shorter than him, smaller than him, but in her embrace it didn't seem so. For a moment that tall, broad shouldered man with the raven hair and sharp jaw was a sniveling boy again, scrawny and spindly and pale as milk. Cutting through all the pain and hate-- for his enemies, for his homeworld, for the family that had left him and his mother to rot-- that was all there was. A boy trying his best to grow in a galaxy that seemed to hate him far more than he had ever hated it.
"...I've tried making it one." He declared, looking down at her, the wiping his tears off on his sleeve. "But I still tried to kill you. Tried killing a woman who'd never done me wrong, because the people she worked for were evil." He said, breathing heavy. "If you hadn't locked me up in that stasis... I'd have been a murderer." Laeonas confessed, choking up a little.
"...why are you even helping a crazy bastard like me?!" The Brentaalan suddenly asked, looking down at her with a confused expression. "What kind of woman hugs a man who just tried splitting her open from ti-" he began, before minding his language. "...from brain to butt?" He finished, silently thanking his master for trying to correct his foul mouth. He never held to any of her lessons... until now.
Until now.
Until now he wouldn't have given a second thought to killing the woman who now had her arms wrapped around him. He never would've considered the possibility that amongst his enemies there were those worthy of more than merciless slaughter. Laeonas had never once bothered talking to any of his enemies, trying to understand their point of view. They'd only ever been met with brutal reprisals. Just like Celeste, just like the other Sith, just like the rival gangs of his homeworld...
...just like the girl he'd verbally assaulted.
"...do you actually... actually think I'm not a bad person?"
@LadyRen