Taking the Reins

[Amilthi]

Rhasru was sitting comfortably in the large green armchair in his quarters. The room was furnished in the most absurd manner. Besides the chair, which had a velvety surface, stood a little glass table, which had an additional glass board between its four feet, which were, shockingly, not aligned orthogonally to the floor or the table surface. By the wall there was a desk with no edges on the sides - it was just one surface that was bent at the ends so it could stand - and, worse, of lilac color, and on that desk stood a lamp whose foot was a golden helix. Above it, there was a shelf on the wall which might have been genuine wood or at least a good imitation, and which was embellished with all kinds of turnery. None of it fit together. Perhaps the chair and the lamp, or the chair and the shelf, but not all three, and certainly not the rest of it.

Looking absent-mindedly at the door, the Sith was awaiting an Acolyte who had requested an appointment, hinting at a desire to receive some instructions. Not a special occasion in any way...

 

[Xekiest]

Raiden walked down the corridor, his cape was almost dragging along with him had he not trimmed it down so it wasn't dragging across the floor. Whoever created his mask, armor, and robes was somewhat of an incompetent nutbag but at least it didn't restrict him as most survival suits had in the past. Unlike the past, when his mask filtered out any bad chemicals his breathing didn't cover the entire room in obnoxiousness, his armor was made of a more sturdy durasteel platform which should have provided some small amount of protection against blaster fire but had no idea its strengths against a lightsaber. They armor provided him more movement then most and because of that he wasn't as limited to the different fencing styles as the past Sith Lords who required such means to survive. When he reached the door he looked at it for a second then walked inside. The room sported a velvet form of carpet, a little glass table, and a large green armchair. He walked inside and scanned the room for a little bit before catching his eye on the Sith across from him. He walked towards him and looked at him, his face unreadable behind his mask. "My lord" he said in a deep voice before bowing respectfully.

 

[Amilthi]

Rhasru's piercing eyes narrowed for a moment as he gazed intently at the Acolyte and counted the offenses. He had entered without knocking. He took a noticeable time to look around. He was wearing this ridiculous mask. And he addressed Rhasru in a manner so obviously inappropriate that it could not be anything but a provocation. Such insolence was rarely to be seen among those who wished to learn.

But this Sith was not about to be enraged. He was not in the habit of allowing mere Acolytes to influence his emotions. At one point or another, Raiden - Rhasru wondered briefly what planet the man could be from so as to have only one name - would have to learn that behaving like this in the face of the wrong person could have very bad consequences; but Rhasru was not the man to teach this lesson. He would have to fake it, and didn't feel like doing so.

"I am not a Lord of any kind; you will address your instructors here as 'Master'; and take off that mask", he said in a matter-of-fact tone of voice, remaining motionless in the chair. "So, what is it that you seek?"

 

[Xekiest]

"The mask cannot be removed, master" he addressed him in the name they are to be called. Master or not, this one was was a complete joke if he thought he was going to actually take his own mask off "With it, i will die" he said in his deep voice again. He stared at the Sith master looking him over and studying him. "I require saber training.. as far into the field of Djem So as you know.. Given that my raw force talent is.. somewhat.. lessened o late i need a suitable means to fight the Jedi" he asked still staring at the man, Raiden knew it wasn't exactly the brightest move in the galaxy to just walk up and ask a Sith for something, but at this point in his life he really didn't give a damn if he pissed off the Emperor himself. Just so long as he destroys a few jedi along with him.

 

[Amilthi]

"Is that so...", said the Sith as he put his hands in his lap. He didn't specify what he was referring to.

The fact that this young man was dependent on a mask for his life, presumably due to damage to his breathing organs, Rhasru found mildly interesting. What was more interesting was this one's eagerness to fight the Jedi. What could possibly be the reason for such zeal? Any number of things could have caused this; but the crucial point was that he probably hadn't thought this true, that he was just blindly following an obsession. Rhasru got the impression that the boy didn't really control his own fate. Nor, and that was the real problem, was he trying.

"What steps are you taking to solve that problem?", he asked after a short pause, completely ignoring the other's reference to lightsaber combat.