Sarcasm 19 for Bralova.
Lana was worried about Bralova. This was the third meeting in a row that they'd missed. The Sith did her best to be understanding, but there were massively important issues to deal with.
She finally found the former Wrath on their bed, curly hair wild under their head. Their hands were over their face, and Lana could sense their anger and frustration. "What is wrong with you?" she asked.
"Oh, where do I begin?" Bralova snapped, dourly sitting up on the bed.
Here we go, Lana thought dryly, bracing herself for the incoming onslaught.
"Let's see: my brain is currently occupied by my family's arch nemesis; my brother is too nervous about it to spend time with me; not only have I only recently reunited with my wife, I can't..." Bralova chose their next words quickly. "I can't fulfill my duties to her right now, because of my family's arch nemesis taking up residence in my brain. I barely know my daughters any more, due to my duties to the Alliance. Not only are my resurrected ancestors still alive, one of them is trying to lay with my arch nemesis' ex-wife, and the other is having war flashbacks thanks to the past five years and Ziost. And now? Now I'm having to reach out to Darth Imperius, of all people, to help me evict the shabuir in my head. So tell me, Lana, what is wrong with me?"
Lana sighed. "A lot, sir." She knew better than to call Bralova "my lord"; that was guaranteed to irritate them. "But Darth Imperius is knowledgeable about Sith ghosts. She should be able to help you."
"I get that. But I would love a fucking break, for once." Bralova rubbed their temples. "I'm sorry. I just..."
"I get that, sir, but we need to focus. We have a lot on all our plates right now."
Always a workholic, Lana. "Fine. What's next?"












