To Welcome a Jedi…

Excerpts from an RP scene I did in SWTOR. In it my Sith Empire character does something no Sith in their right mind would do: Welcome a Jedi to the table…

Qyâsika senses the turmoil in Jarqui, and cannot help but open his eyes to look on with concern. He knows he should not, as Jarqui has spurned most of his kindness before, and given his claims to be a Jedi, Qyâsika should at least be enjoying his torment.  Perhaps even use it to bring the man to his knees in the darkness. instead shakes his head, and asks tentatively, “Jarqui… You are among friends. Is everything alright?” 

Jarqui’s eyes were not often to move from their fixed stare but as soon as he heard Qyâsika mention his name, they were not hesitant to look. His eyes had a tendency to change their appearance between a light silver or dark sulfur, though this would like be portrayed as a reflection of the light in his eyes, it held much meaning. The silver in his eyes darkened into hardened sulfur as his view narrowed over Qyâsika, depending completely on his conscience on how to respond. His voice urged him to say anything, a word, a letter, at least give a gesture of movement, but his body was defiant, and offered him not grace of motion, only a terrified plaster of fear reaching over his sulfur eyes now melting between his silver pupils. “I…”

His eyes widened in surprise as a word truly fell from his lips, his heart wailed like a drum to his chest in anxiousness as he then spoke more, though his voice was soft and weak, and it trailed aways as if he had more say but did not speak beyond: “I am sorry for what I said Qyâsika …”

Qyâsika  widens his eyes at the apology. A Jedi apologizing to a Sith? Unheard of yet here it was. War does make for strange bedfellow, indeed, even more so if once sworn enemies choose not follow its path. He allows himself to look at Jarqui for the first time as a man, not a Jedi, but a fellow man who is attempting to navigate the galaxy. So many answers, but one is sufficient here: “My nickname is Ka, or Qyas if you prefer. Would you like to sit down?” He moves over on the couch.

Jarqui raises his chin completely, as if his stasis was now drawing back from the catacombs of his bones, his eyes reached far and wide over Qyâsika’s offer, his silver eyes once again conforming to solid sulfur. “I ugh…” his voice had left him silent, though this was unusual for him.

In decisiveness he chose not to speak, but only allow his will to leech each muscle from where he sat and place him aside Qyâsika where his heart warmed in his chest to the comfort of his presence. “Okay,” he declared, holding away from a smile which streamed over his cheeks by the declaration of his own heart.

If only the Anglican Church would welcome their guests, such as LGBTQIAA, together. SWTOR belongs to Bioware, and Jarqui belongs to his character. 

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