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25-04-2023, 08:40 AM
Holo Diary 001
“Moral turpitude.”
A pause.
“The art of fucking people over.”
The Sith smirks, her lips playing in an amused squigle.
“I’ve gotten better at it. The, hmmm, dance of society. That eternal waltz of screwing, fucking and utterly getting fucked. The rumble on the dancefloor, people skittering to impress and indulge. A myriad of rambunctious youth and old alike doing a little jig.”
Daxze sighs, straightening her back in the hard leather chair, leaning closer to the holorecorder. Her voice turning slightly louder.
“Looking, I have. Looking for a place amidst it all. A place for myself, to carve my own future.”
A hand is lifted, caressing a bone spur.
“But, while looking I have found some … lacking. Wanting. Some are without rhythm. Some of these dancers need a strong lead. A powerful beat for them to move to.”
A chuckle is heard as the young Pureblood taps her chin.
“I will be that lead. I will be the hand in the dark. For if we are without rhythm, what are we? Animals? A rot has infected the heart of our glorious Empire. I will do what I can to -cut- it out.”
She leans in again towards the recording device, a deep sigh escaping her lips.
“Glory to the Empire, Glory to House Horuset.”, she mumbles before pushing herself up from her seat and pressing a button on the small recorder.
“Moral turpitude.”
A pause.
“The art of fucking people over.”
The Sith smirks, her lips playing in an amused squigle.
“I’ve gotten better at it. The, hmmm, dance of society. That eternal waltz of screwing, fucking and utterly getting fucked. The rumble on the dancefloor, people skittering to impress and indulge. A myriad of rambunctious youth and old alike doing a little jig.”
Daxze sighs, straightening her back in the hard leather chair, leaning closer to the holorecorder. Her voice turning slightly louder.
“Looking, I have. Looking for a place amidst it all. A place for myself, to carve my own future.”
A hand is lifted, caressing a bone spur.
“But, while looking I have found some … lacking. Wanting. Some are without rhythm. Some of these dancers need a strong lead. A powerful beat for them to move to.”
A chuckle is heard as the young Pureblood taps her chin.
“I will be that lead. I will be the hand in the dark. For if we are without rhythm, what are we? Animals? A rot has infected the heart of our glorious Empire. I will do what I can to -cut- it out.”
She leans in again towards the recording device, a deep sigh escaping her lips.
“Glory to the Empire, Glory to House Horuset.”, she mumbles before pushing herself up from her seat and pressing a button on the small recorder.
