"I bet you do," Procion answered, and simply rolled his eyes at the mention of what the Jedi were supposed to do, and what they weren't. Dignifying that with a response would likely have led to some kind of a profound, moral, existential debate, and he was really not in the mood for one of those; while the situation had devolved into this frustrating, verbal stalemate, the insistent, indignant throb below his belt reminded him that there were much better things to think about and that the Jedi should really go fuck himself if he wasn't going to fuck... someone else. With a faint scoff, the Sith reached out for his lightsaber, and as their hands touched, the bare, red fingers lingered for a moment longer than they had to, entirely involuntarily. He clipped the hilt to his belt without looking at it, leaning back once more.<br/><br/>"Whatever you wanna call it. What do you think I was testing, anyway?" A spiked eyebrow jumped with curiosity. "Your resolve to refrain from having fun?"<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>