The Sith answered with a curiously raised eyebrow and a sliver of sharp teeth, but while it would've been easy for him to resort to insults and witticisms then, something stalled him. As the laughter faded, Procion's expression turned from amused to ponderous, and it wasn't entirely because of the lightsaber he was holding; the red eyes lingered on its owner for a moment longer than they had to.<br/><br/>"There's more to us than you realise," the pureblood spoke at length, slowly rotating Johte's lightsaber in the air above his palm. From his tone, from the odd reverence and fascination he seemed to have for the levitating weapon, one could deduce it wasn't intended as a display of power, but rather, one of respect. He chose not to touch what was essentially an extension of the Jedi's person. "Suffice to say my Master was old-fashioned. It's not my first weapon, but it's by far my favourite." And it looked the part. There was, of course, some degree of wear - it was, after all, a weapon and not some decorative toy - but as Procion relied far less on his saber and more on the raw Force itself, it was clean, polished and well kept, the design appearing quite old indeed.<br/><br/>Procion turned once more to look directly at Johte, past the man's own lightsaber. "How is it? Just letting me do this? No righteous fury, no blind duty to bring me down?"<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>