Aiden and Revan are in the training room, sparring with each other. Revan's fighting hand-to-hand. Aiden is... not so much. She's letting him throw fire at her. He's being very careful not to hit her
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Strictly speaking, there are better places for Sark to be. His room for example, although spending too much time in there is bound to give him cabin fever and... It's never good for the guy who had an extremely dangerous and stressful job full of action to get cabin fever.
So he's walking around the basement in a completely discreet way that suggests he absolutely belongs here and is not the one thing that isn't like the others. Really, he should be over that by now, but... Well, he's never really integrated with this lot and that's bound to cause him trouble even with a Guardian Angel to watch his back.
He's only paranoid when he has probable cause to be.
The final stretch of his walk before he heads back to his room takes him by the training room, which, admittedly, isn't very good for him, all things considered.
Revan's eyes snap open as she senses Sark pass the door, and she springs to her feet, unleashing a mental wave of, pardon the pun, force, pinning Sark against the wall. She's not far behind that little Force Shove, pressing an arm against his chest.
Oh now really. That's the second time this week he's been accosted. And people wonder why he hasn't tried to integrate himself amongst these people.
And he won't comment on the fact that this is dreadfully similar to the sorts of things Shepard could do to some extent, as far as he's concerned, which is the only thing keeping him from attempting to forceibly removing her arm from his chest. His irrational fear of psychics (and he just lumps anyone who can do things with their mind in that category) is completely justified.
He fixes her with something that vaguely looks like a glare even if there's no actual expression on his face. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
Well, he does, but no one's supposed to know about that.
"Don't play dumb," Revan responds with a slight snarl. "You're trying to get Martha to kill Shepard. You're dragging her down to the Dark Side. LEAVE. HER. ALONE."
Yes, she's giving in to the Sith Lord in her. She doesn't care right now. The wellbeing of others takes precedence over her own.
Dark Side. Oh that's clever. See? This is the expression of someone who finds that very clever, but thinks you're a very crazy person, Revan.
...It looks like most of his other expressions, but you can see it in his eyes that he's not overly fond of this situation.
When he speaks, his voice has just a tinge of an edge to it, "I'm not even going to ask how you know about that, but may I be perfectly frank in pointing out that I'm not coercing her in the slightest. She came to me."
He didn't exactly discourage her either, but he's not one to discourage those sorts of things.
"I'm a Jedi," Revan hisses. "And I spoke to her, I felt that anger and hate, and it's a poison, a cancer. And you're exacerbating it by encouraging her to kill Shepard. She doesn't need to kill Shepard. She can heal on her own. Killing her will make things worse for her. She'll Fall and become something she hates. Revel in your own darkness if you like but don't drag other people down with you on my watch!"
Sark's eyes don't waver off of her. "That's wonderful spin, miss, but have you failed to realize that allowing Amarantha Shepard to live is about as much of a cancer as anything could be? She could prove to be just as much of a threat as Calisto and I see nothing wrong with eliminating her before that happens. And if Martha wants to do it, then far be it for me not to offer the assistance she asked for."
He pauses, letting that sink in for a second, before bringing up another point that's somewhat grating on his nerves in the wake of her words. "And I don't revel in my own darkness. Trust me when I say that I take no pleasure in discourse and murder. I merely do what has to be done."
Or what he's being paid to do, or what someone has told him to do, or whatever. Either way, he generally doesn't take pleasure in it- that would make him less than human and despite his surprising lack of morals, he is human. Just with very little regard for human life when it comes to completing his goals
( ... )
"She deserves the chance to be redeemed," Revan hisses. "And right now, I'm more concerned about Martha's sanity than Shepard's rise to power. When and if she becomes a threat, then we fight her. Until then, we live and let live."
"The fact that you hire yourself out as a terrorist, an assassin, a spy-Any number of despicable, traitourous jobs-says, to me, you revel in your darkness just as much as any Sith does. And you want Shepard dead. You'd get a perverse pleasure in watching her die. That makes you a threat to me, and to the people I'm here to protect."
Her voice is dripping with malice. Darth Revan has been seeping into her words.
Beware, Sark. You are making her angry. You do not want to make an Ex-Sith Lord angry.
Sark's not entirely comfortable with people in his head and she evidently is if she knows all of that and while he's far from getting angry, he's getting increasingly irritated because of it. She doesn't know him and she has no right to insinuate like she does, as far as he's concerned.
"Sticks and stones," he says, slowly, voice a bit more on edge than normal, because he's not sure what she's seen. He has more mental walls than you could possibly imagine, built up since Calisto, but some surface things still seep through. "But whose to say that they even want your protection? Or do you really just make it a point to save everyone even when it's not salvation they seek? Martha Jones is her own woman. If she wants help, she'll seek it, and I'll wash my hands of this whole affair, but I'm a man of my word, and I've made a promise that I intend to keep."
He doesn't really care that he's making her angry, which could be very bad for him. He's convinced he's right and that's all that matters.
Revan's eyes begin to slide from blue to gold and bloodshot, and she ignites one blade of her lightsaber mere centimetres from Sark's jawline; the violet blade cuts into the wall behind him, red-hot plaster seeping slowly from the cut.
"She already sought help from me, and I have a promise of my own to keep," she says, her voice a quiet threat. "I promised never to let anyone under my responsibility fall to the Dark Side, and as the Conrad's trainer, everyone in this basement is under my responsibility. I promised to save anyone who's Fallen or about to Fall, and as much as I hate it, that does include you." Her face is right in front of Sark's now, eyes gleaming with anger. "Leave her alone, or Shepard will be the least of your worries. She is powerful but she cannot compare to the strength of a Sith Lord."
Oh this? This is not good, and surprisingly, he's doing a bang-up job not panicking... Outwardly. Inside he's wondering where the hell Ariel is and why she isn't making this situation go away, since clearly he's incapable of conceding.
Are there no normal women in this place? Or at least women like Sydney that he's an actual match for?
"Lofty ambitions," he says and while his face is expressionless, the edge is gone from his voice so it's just flat and doing a damn good job of not reflecting how freaked out he is.
His eyes, however, aren't. You can always tell when he's trying to suppress emotions too big for him in his eyes.
"But believe me, you aren't someone I'm going to allow to tell me what to do, threats aside, and I'm sure my Guardian Angel will have plenty to say if you try to make good on any of them."
It sounds about as insane as anything to say 'guardian angel,' but it bears pointing out. You don't mess with someone's ward, no matter who you are.
Sometimes Sark knows exactly when to shut up, but this is not one of those times. She's not going to kill him (oh he noticed the lightning, but he can handle a few volts if he has to- just because he avoids torture when he can doesn't mean he can't endure it to some extent) or so he thinks.
"How does threatening me make you any better?" He asks, honestly sincere in the question.
And then, just in case he hadn't made himself perfectly clear, he adds, "There's no understanding to be made. As I said, Martha will do as she pleases and so will I, within reason."
Sark's very much on his knees at this point, because that stings, and he's never been very good with pain management, so... Yeah. He's about driven to swearing about now.
He is mentally making sure he never crosses paths with her again.
And God help him, he has never been so happy to see Ariel and if he could so much as move right now, he'd be hiding behind her. He is so not above those things. That's what bodyguards/guardian angels are for.
"It's about time," he chokes. "Does she have to actually hurt me before you come running to my rescue?"
No, Sark, that's not helping. And is liable to get you smacked on top of electrocuted.
So he's walking around the basement in a completely discreet way that suggests he absolutely belongs here and is not the one thing that isn't like the others. Really, he should be over that by now, but... Well, he's never really integrated with this lot and that's bound to cause him trouble even with a Guardian Angel to watch his back.
He's only paranoid when he has probable cause to be.
The final stretch of his walk before he heads back to his room takes him by the training room, which, admittedly, isn't very good for him, all things considered.
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"You," she hisses. "Stay away from Martha Jones."
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And he won't comment on the fact that this is dreadfully similar to the sorts of things Shepard could do to some extent, as far as he's concerned, which is the only thing keeping him from attempting to forceibly removing her arm from his chest. His irrational fear of psychics (and he just lumps anyone who can do things with their mind in that category) is completely justified.
He fixes her with something that vaguely looks like a glare even if there's no actual expression on his face. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
Well, he does, but no one's supposed to know about that.
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Yes, she's giving in to the Sith Lord in her. She doesn't care right now. The wellbeing of others takes precedence over her own.
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...It looks like most of his other expressions, but you can see it in his eyes that he's not overly fond of this situation.
When he speaks, his voice has just a tinge of an edge to it, "I'm not even going to ask how you know about that, but may I be perfectly frank in pointing out that I'm not coercing her in the slightest. She came to me."
He didn't exactly discourage her either, but he's not one to discourage those sorts of things.
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He pauses, letting that sink in for a second, before bringing up another point that's somewhat grating on his nerves in the wake of her words. "And I don't revel in my own darkness. Trust me when I say that I take no pleasure in discourse and murder. I merely do what has to be done."
Or what he's being paid to do, or what someone has told him to do, or whatever. Either way, he generally doesn't take pleasure in it- that would make him less than human and despite his surprising lack of morals, he is human. Just with very little regard for human life when it comes to completing his goals ( ... )
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"The fact that you hire yourself out as a terrorist, an assassin, a spy-Any number of despicable, traitourous jobs-says, to me, you revel in your darkness just as much as any Sith does. And you want Shepard dead. You'd get a perverse pleasure in watching her die. That makes you a threat to me, and to the people I'm here to protect."
Her voice is dripping with malice. Darth Revan has been seeping into her words.
Beware, Sark. You are making her angry. You do not want to make an Ex-Sith Lord angry.
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"Sticks and stones," he says, slowly, voice a bit more on edge than normal, because he's not sure what she's seen. He has more mental walls than you could possibly imagine, built up since Calisto, but some surface things still seep through. "But whose to say that they even want your protection? Or do you really just make it a point to save everyone even when it's not salvation they seek? Martha Jones is her own woman. If she wants help, she'll seek it, and I'll wash my hands of this whole affair, but I'm a man of my word, and I've made a promise that I intend to keep."
He doesn't really care that he's making her angry, which could be very bad for him. He's convinced he's right and that's all that matters.
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"She already sought help from me, and I have a promise of my own to keep," she says, her voice a quiet threat. "I promised never to let anyone under my responsibility fall to the Dark Side, and as the Conrad's trainer, everyone in this basement is under my responsibility. I promised to save anyone who's Fallen or about to Fall, and as much as I hate it, that does include you." Her face is right in front of Sark's now, eyes gleaming with anger. "Leave her alone, or Shepard will be the least of your worries. She is powerful but she cannot compare to the strength of a Sith Lord."
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Are there no normal women in this place? Or at least women like Sydney that he's an actual match for?
"Lofty ambitions," he says and while his face is expressionless, the edge is gone from his voice so it's just flat and doing a damn good job of not reflecting how freaked out he is.
His eyes, however, aren't. You can always tell when he's trying to suppress emotions too big for him in his eyes.
"But believe me, you aren't someone I'm going to allow to tell me what to do, threats aside, and I'm sure my Guardian Angel will have plenty to say if you try to make good on any of them."
It sounds about as insane as anything to say 'guardian angel,' but it bears pointing out. You don't mess with someone's ward, no matter who you are.
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"A guardian angel will not stop me," Revan states icily. "Stay away from Martha Jones, or there will be Hell to pay. Do. We. Have. An. Understanding."
It's not a question.
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"How does threatening me make you any better?" He asks, honestly sincere in the question.
And then, just in case he hadn't made himself perfectly clear, he adds, "There's no understanding to be made. As I said, Martha will do as she pleases and so will I, within reason."
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Revan's fingers clamp down on Sark's shoulder and a few hundred volts of lightning tear into his body for a second or two.
"That was not a question, nor a request," Revan says when she stops the flow. "Stay. Away. From Martha Jones."
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Her ward is in the hotel and getting hurt. Badly How much sense does that make, honestly?
Her wings are out, beautiful black ones, like a raven's and she is in the training room and behind Revan in a matter of seconds.
Gripping the woman's shoulders, instantly. Ariel would attempt to go ahead and throw Revan aside, but the shiny stick doesn't seem to look promising.
"Hands off. Now." She might be a little more understanding if actual pain hadn't been administered on her ward.
She'll admit that he can make plenty of people want to punch him, but this? Not acceptable with her. At all.
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He is mentally making sure he never crosses paths with her again.
And God help him, he has never been so happy to see Ariel and if he could so much as move right now, he'd be hiding behind her. He is so not above those things. That's what bodyguards/guardian angels are for.
"It's about time," he chokes. "Does she have to actually hurt me before you come running to my rescue?"
No, Sark, that's not helping. And is liable to get you smacked on top of electrocuted.
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