"I don't know exactly what a lightsaber is, but if it's anything close to a normal sword, I think I get your meaning," she says, and while it might be somewhat rare for her, she seems to be taking these foreign ideas seriously. "Magic is good for a lot, but a blade is a tool that offers more, well, precision and delicacy I guess."
She glances sideways at him when he offers to share more about what being a Sith means. There's a serious consideration for that out too; Sal isn't naturally patient, and all this sitting around, crowded by strangers makes her more agitated. But there's worse things to consider also, like sitting alone and fending off her usual, unwanted thought patterns.
This weekend is meant to be relaxing. Kind of funny in the moment, but it seems to her like a total fucking waste if she spends the whole thing brooding. And besides—there's some unspoken part of her who has learned, through a certain past acquaintance, to maybe enjoy these long lectures she can hardly understand.
"Where I'm from, most mages are picked out when they're young so they can be trained and disciplined," Sal offers, trying to pick apart his own explanation. "But of course, all of those rules and restrictions can be a fucking pain, so there's others who break away."
She scratches at the scar on her face; she's still not used to explaining these things, and she has to remind herself that it's less of a danger here than it is back home. "Vagrants come in all flavors, and they just keep to their own interests mostly. It's a dangerous life, with a lot of fucking enemies, but I guess it's a matter of what you find more valuable."
She gives him a thoughtful look, having made her choice about this. "So tell me about your Sith and how it all works then." She holds the whiskey bottle in both hands, trying harder to focus.
no subject
She glances sideways at him when he offers to share more about what being a Sith means. There's a serious consideration for that out too; Sal isn't naturally patient, and all this sitting around, crowded by strangers makes her more agitated. But there's worse things to consider also, like sitting alone and fending off her usual, unwanted thought patterns.
This weekend is meant to be relaxing. Kind of funny in the moment, but it seems to her like a total fucking waste if she spends the whole thing brooding. And besides—there's some unspoken part of her who has learned, through a certain past acquaintance, to maybe enjoy these long lectures she can hardly understand.
"Where I'm from, most mages are picked out when they're young so they can be trained and disciplined," Sal offers, trying to pick apart his own explanation. "But of course, all of those rules and restrictions can be a fucking pain, so there's others who break away."
She scratches at the scar on her face; she's still not used to explaining these things, and she has to remind herself that it's less of a danger here than it is back home. "Vagrants come in all flavors, and they just keep to their own interests mostly. It's a dangerous life, with a lot of fucking enemies, but I guess it's a matter of what you find more valuable."
She gives him a thoughtful look, having made her choice about this. "So tell me about your Sith and how it all works then." She holds the whiskey bottle in both hands, trying harder to focus.