Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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alpha & omega

Academy_of_Skye_silencer_780_frame.jpg

Praetorian Initiate
Equipment | Training Lightsaber & Throwing Knives
Location | Training Halls, Academy of Skye
Meeting | [member="Eighth Guard"]
Status
| Is it possible to be elated and anxious at the same time?
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Thank you for the lesson, Master Jenari. I will contemplate on what I have learned today before seeking out further instructions.” Marriskcal said carefully, finding herself slightly puzzled even as she gave a deep bow of respect to her instructor for the day, an elderly man renowned for his cunning tactics and masterful bladework during his younger days. While age may have affected his strength and alacrity in combat, his mind and experience more than made up for the physical deterioration. Even after training under his tutelage for the past six months, the youngling still found herself outwitted in their duels more often than not.

That itself was not surprising to the young initiate, who was already used to being bested by the prominent bladesman. No, the reason she found herself confused was that everything about their lesson today differed from all the lessons they had together previously. One would almost say that her instructor was being gentle in his guidance, except that when you are a member in the Order of Ren, none of the instructors will ever be kind. And Marriskcal had never kept it secret from them that she aspired to walk the path of a Praetorian.

Kindness was a death sentence.

By stating her desire clearly to them, her combat lessons were often brutal and punishing. Every flaw she bared was shattered, before being put together once more to form a stronger whole. To be a Praetorian, to be worthy of staying by the Supreme Leader’s side, you first have to hone your body to be a weapon in all aspects. Her mental growth was something that would only be tempered with time and experience as she matured. And as a creature of her nurture, Marriskcal’s loyalty has never once wavered.

So… this unprecedented kindness was perplexing to the blonde indeed.

Though it was considered slightly impolite, Marriskcal lifted her head when her instructor’s customary reply did not break the silence of the room. “… Master Jenari?” Her eyes studied his stern features in hopes of finding an answer.

Ah, the impatience of youth. The faintest twitch of amusement appeared at the corner of the grizzly instructor lips as he considering the initiate before him, her unease growing with each passing second. “Calm yourself, Initiate Lati. There’s nothing for you to worry about.” Jenari wisely did not mention even if his young charge had everything to worry about, there was probably nothing she could do between the walk from the training hall to her destination. “You are to head directly to the armoury after this.

The armoury?


Is that why…

I will not deny you your opportunity. Now go.
 
The Eighth Guard, Praetorian Knight
Equipment: Bilari Swordwhip - Praetorian Robes
Location: The Ren Academy - Armoury
Status: Tending to equipment
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The Praetorian Guard, even when plentiful before the Supreme Leader's disappearance, were always scarce at both the Skye Academy and the Bastion of Ren compared to their counterparts in the Order. In fact, most initiates, disciples, and even some of the knights themselves knew not of their existence or viewed them as a legend. The Eighth Guard was no exception to this tradition, but he found the tools of the academy's armoury far too efficient to resist their lure, not to mention the nomadic and picky nature of the Ren meant that they rarely had a need to store their weapons and equipment in the room, cementing his purported isolation.

Even then, when the occasional straggler entered the room, they would find him facing the wall in his armour, fixing or modifying his weapon in some way. Today was different, though, as the praetorian knight sat armourless on the same spot in the same position; his armour had accrued significant damage during his duel with the Master Kyrel and he did not trust Ren quartermasters enough to fix it, so he did so himself. Anyone who was to intrude on his solitude would perhaps notice his features, which were in contrast to the smooth laminate armour that he usually donned.

Short, black hair replaced the usual crimson helmet, and below that a, once again, crimson robe adorned his torso. The sleeves were a tad short for the man's arms, revealing a plethora of shallow scars on both of his forearms to a keen eye. Whoever did enter was treated to absolute silence, no indication that he was acknowledging their presence, either he was too busy to notice or too apathetic to care.

[member="Marriskcal Lati"]
 
Praetorian Initiate
Equipment | Training Lightsaber & Throwing Knives
Location | Armoury, Academy of Skye
Meeting | Eighth Guard
Status
| Can I get a redo, please?
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While it was frowned upon – something something about maintaining the gravitas of their hallowed academy (Yes, Instructor Nome, I will remember to comport myself with the dignity befitting a noble) – the moment the door of the training room closed fully behind her, Marriskcal set off for the armoury in a brisk pace. It was obvious from the young initiate’s demeanour that her interest has been piqued by the mysterious words Master Jenari had left her with. Her flagrant disregard for the unspoken, but yet known, rules of the academy would likely earn her a long lecture about decorum and a light punishment. Well, that was if they manage to catch her in the act. And even then, it would be well worth it to sate her curiousity just a few moments sooner.

The blonde expanded her senses, using them to perceive the ever-shining presence of her brothers and sisters as she turned the final corner at the end of the another lengthy hallway. Partly so she would not end up colliding into them, and mostly to avoid having any masters and instructors from catching her. Though the armoury was adjacent to the training hall, Skye Academy was a large, sprawling fortress. A lot of her fellow younglings has often jested that all the walking and climbing they had to do daily is a huge part of why they remained in peak form. But at her speed, the initiate made good time.

With her earlier training session with Master Jenari and the brisk run to the armoury’s entrance, Marriskcal was a mess. The tail she had bound her hair in was askew and there was a forming bruise on her left jaw, from when she tried and failed to break her combat instructor’s parry. But above all, a series of yellow and purple bruising that formed a collar around her neck, a much despised souvenir of her fight from Virgillia. It sat prominently, right above the plain and modest black robe that all younger members of the academy wore.

None of those were on her mind as she entered through the entrance of the armoury, her bright eyes immediately scanning the vast room for new weaponry and other individuals alike. It was the splash of colour, the distinctive shade of red that caught her attention. Marriskcal raised her head and went on the tip of her toes, trying to get a better glimpse of the person who sat along the wall. Letting out a huff of annoyance when her effort did not yield any result (Really, I can’t wait to have a growth spurt), the blonde girl stepped fully into the room.

Oh.

Oh.

It all became clear to her.

The familiar force presence emanating from the male only made her feel all the more certain that this was the same Praetorian Guard she met back then. Before she allowed the familiar blend of hesitance and unease to overwhelm her, Marriskcal took a few steps forward, stopping only when she was a few feet away from his back. Her hands trembled slightly by her side, and be it from elation or anxiety, the youngling was unable to tell.

You are… him, aren’t you?

She winced almost immediately after the words left her lips, mentally chastising herself for how absolutely articulate she was. “I– I’m Marriskcal Lati. You can call me ‘Marr’ if you like. All my friends do.” The curse of babble strikes again. Would he be insulted that I inadvertently referred to him as my friend? It was swiftly turning into an utterly unsalvageable situation. Why did Master Jenari tell me that I have nothing to worry about? At this point, she may as well save everyone the trouble and throw herself into a sarlacc pit.

The furiously blushing initiate took a deep shuddering breath to calm herself. Get to the point, Marr. You’ve already embarrassed yourself anyway. What is one more? Though she may be young, Marriskcal knew the importance of seizing the opportunity presented to her. If she wanted strength, she had to seek a combat instructor and convince them that she was worth their time. If she wanted access to knowledge from the restricted archive, she had to pore over countless datapads and write a research paper on the subject matter before she was allowed in. Initiative tempered by audacity. This was no different.

It is my wish to be able to prove myself worthy of joining the Praetorian Guard.

She was resolute.
 
The Eighth Guard, Praetorian Knight
Equipment: Bilari Swordwhip - Praetorian Robes
Location: The Ren Academy - Armoury
Status: Acknowledging the Girl
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As the young girl's babbling reached a conclusion, and as she likely waited for the man's response, silence gripped the room once again, save for the occasional buzzing of the praetorian knight's fusioncutter. He considered her words carefully, using his adeptness at measuring his own to sense her emotions at the moment. She had partially earned his respect during the duel on Virgillia, but he did not turn to address her as would've been polite, instead of continuing to face the wall and go about his task.

Then a voice, his voice, banished the uncomfortable silence from the armoury. It was unfiltered, untouched contrary to when he was wearing his helmet. It had an accent to it; not the uniform Imperial accent that most officers of the First Order adopted, nor the usual benign and bland 'accent' that befitted the former Alliance, and least of all the drawling tone of those native to Corellia. It was exotic, like a foreign spice added to a dish, something that the child may or may not have heard before.

"Yes, I am." He gave plain and simple, these word emanating from an unseen face, "And you...'Marr'...you are the one who stood up against the Disciple Doran, no?" He paused, indicated by the fusioncutter in his hand deactivating from idleness. "Quite a feat for such a young one, despite your adversary's previous injuries." The Eighth Guard praised, his Force presence indicating that he was smiling.

He did not mention her will to join the Guard, likely irking the girl somewhat, but he wanted her to explain herself before continuing with the 'process'.

[member="Marriskcal Lati"]
 
Praetorian Initiate
Equipment | Training Lightsaber & Throwing Knives
Location | Armoury, Academy of Skye
Meeting | [member="Eighth Guard"]
Status
| Everything that is good about this world starts and end with Sieger Ren
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[SIZE=10.5pt]For all her anxiety a moment ago, a sense of calm washed over her now that she had stated her intent. Marriskcal stood quietly, her body loose and relaxed as she waited for the other to address her. Though she was not a pessimistic person by nature, she was fully cognizant that the moment she approached him, there was a high chance of him turning her away. The knowledge that he has yet to protest to her presence was enough of a reassurance, small as it was. She was willing to be patient, seeing that she was intruding into what was evidently personal time. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]The whirr from the fusioncutter, accompanied by stray sparks hitting and bouncing across the floor caught her attention. Now that she has more or less already hit her embarrassment quota for the hour – In front of someone you wanted to impress at that – and since the sabacc cards were out of her hands, so to speak, curiousity found itself at the forefront of her mind once more. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]Other than his force presence, and a few other attributes that she has noted from back then and now, there was nothing else Marriskcal knew about the knight. But a firm sense of propriety that has been instilled in her since young deterred her from even the thought of stealing a peek of the features usually hidden under the helmet. To pry where one was not given permission was the highest form of insolence within the Ren. And when it’s paired with the reverence she held for someone who has already accomplished what she hoped to achieve one day, it was nigh unthinkable that she would ever breach the tentative trust he showed her. It could be a test for all you know. So she confined her curiousity to the blood crimson armour he was working on.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]The knight’s voice, when the other addressed her, held the touch of an unfamiliar accent. It was not something that the blonde had managed to discern back when they were on Virgillia, considering the strain they were under. She slanted her head, her mind trying to place the mellifluous tenor to a planet but with her limited exposure to the galaxy at large, she came up with a blank. All she could surmise was that it was highly likely that the male before her did not grew up on Skye, nor did he spend a lot of time on Dosuun. It is just as likely that he is reticent, Marr.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]Though a touch of mortification found its way back to her person when the knight used her proffered name, it was escalated by surprised pleasure. She certainly did not expect him to accept her thoughtless familiarity. The youngling was beginning to realise that a lot of the preconceived notions she held of the figure before her were untrue. “Yes, I was. With my… limitations, I didn’t want to get in the way.” She tugged at her collar, pulling it up in hopes of hiding the discoloration, futile as it was. Though it was petty of her to hold a grudge at a brother, Marriskcal refused to allow the existence of one Doran Ren to leave her lips so long as she was able to avoid doing so.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]I–Is that a compliment? [/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]Marriskcal did not truly believe that she deserved any praise for her impulsive attempt at intervention, but she welcomed it all the same. The force presence that surrounded the knight further conveyed to the youngling that it was genuine. A warm pleased flutter blossomed within her. As an initiate, she did not often receive compliments. Her instructors were oftentimes solemn and only had advice for her, followed by a long list of improvements for her to implement in her training. A part of her decided there and then that she would continue to work hard and hopefully keep the knight's regard.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]The unspoken matter remained in the air between them.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]Well, it isn’t like you’ve expected that it would be easy as you stating your desire.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]Life was a series of battles, after all. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]“I have always wanted to serve.” How could she not? Everything the Supreme Leader has envisioned for the galaxy was good and just. She wanted to see all his hopes and wishes prevail. But more than that, she wanted him at the helm of this change, eternal and unfaltering. “But ever since I was old enough to understand the nature of sacrifice, I feel that this is the path I’m meant to walk. We need his guidance to see us through these chaotic times, and it would be my honour to dedicate my life so that he can continue to shape the future.[/SIZE]
 
The Eighth Guard, Praetorian Knight
Equipment: Bilari Swordwhip - Praetorian Robes
Location: The Ren Academy - Armoury
Status: Testing the girl
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The Eighth Guard was silent once again, despite his 'kind' intentions for the child he still had to maintain the enigmatic persona that came with being part of the Praetorian Guard, it was a difficult endeavour sometimes. When he was a Knight of Ren, he was taught that his emotions were something to let free and harness for their power, but now in the Guard, he was drilled that uttermost devotion to the Supreme Leader came before any of his damned feelings, and so far that doctrine had served him well.

"Any common citizen or stormtrooper can say that they would give their lives for the Supreme Leader, say that they would serve His will to the highest of their ability. Yet when a challenge presents itself, they would rather abandon their duty in favour of themselves." Eight advised, shutting off the fusioncutter in his hands as he spoke. "You have proven yourself in the past, in the case of standing up to the Master Kyrel. Although, tradition would have both the Supreme Leader and his Elite Praetorian Guard decide on whether to admit new initiates."

The girl would easily notice that the man began to stand up, his crimson robes shifting as he stepped each leg individually over the bench and finally faced her. His visage was that of a man in his early 30s, groomed facial hair covered a square jaw and a rounded chin, separated from the moderately-sized moustache that the man sported over the smirk on his lips. "Marriskcal Lati, as the last remaining Praetorian Knight of the Guard, I will officially initiate you into the Supreme Leader's Praetorian Guard..."

"...If you can survive."

A loud crackle filled the room as his Bilari electro chain-whip activated and loosened into its deadly whip form. He swung it around wide, giving the girl some time to react before the weapon was slated to impact against her.

[member="Marriskcal Lati"]
 
Praetorian Initiate
Equipment | Training Lightsaber & Throwing Knives
Location | Armoury, Academy of Skye
Meeting | [member="Eighth Guard"]
Status | Revealing your face is an effective battle tactic
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[SIZE=11pt]His words rang true, and as bitter as it was for her to hear them verbalised, Marriskcal agreed with them. Many spoke the oaths of loyalty and sacrifice, but people were inherently selfish in nature. It was all too easy to break one’s words when one did not truly mean them. But she remained silent, conscious that the knight was only picking up the trails of her conversation because he was leading up to something more.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Her instinct were proven right a moment later.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Wait... is he saying… what I think he’s saying?[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]As she was trying to comprehend the implication of his words, the sudden movement caught her attention. She took a small step away from the knight as he began to shift, still wary of his intentions despite the clear lack of threat. He remained an enigma, unfathomable. Her gaze moved from the fusioncutter that he placed down, rising slowly from his hands to his revealed features. Oh. Her eyes grew wide as she took in the visage of the male standing before her. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]The initiate may be young, but she was also at the age where she was beginning to gain an appreciation for the appearances of the people around her. She already knew his skin was tanned while she was watching him mend his armour, but it was only now that she noted that it complemented his looks well. The cut of his jawline was sharp, framed by a neat trimmed stubble and moustache that only served to accentuate his mien further. I wonder if it is prickly or soft? Her breathe left her even as his mouth formed a smirk, giving him a somewhat playful air.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]But as with all predators, one could be playful and still be dangerous.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]As the whip curved towards her, the blonde allowed the force to guide her actions. She knew she would not be able to block the full weight of its impact without stable footing. Being pushed back and thrown off balance would only mean she would mean she would be left wide open and defenseless, making it easy for the knight to end their spar. In a fluid motion, Marriskcal fell into a low crouch, the static from the eletro-plasma current crackling as it passed overhead. Her hand reached and ignited her lightsaber, and she burst into action, using her low position to kick against the ground so she could swiftly close the distance between them.

While they were in an armoury, filled with weapons of various make, the youngling was not familiar with the weapon the knight wielded. But she suspected that the glowing crackling red segments of the sword turned whip would inflict a similar damage as a lightsaber would. And that meant that normal weapons made from alloys were at a distinct disadvantage. With her experience on Virgillia and the Praetorian Guard’s battle against Master Kyrel, Marriskcal already had the knowledge that lightsaber was an effective weapon against it.
[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Using her left leg as a fulcrum, the blonde’s dominant arm whipped forward in an aggressive horizontal slash towards the knight’s torso. She knew if she showed any hesitation, the other would cut her down.

"I intend to do better that that."

There was no room for doubts.
[/SIZE]
 
The Eighth Guard, Praetorian Knight
Equipment: Bilari Swordwhip - Praetorian Robes
Location: The Ren Academy - Armoury
Status: On the attack
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The man curved back as the girl attempted a ferocious blow against him. The lightsaber just barely missed the silky fabric of his robe, the hum as it passed by filling his ears with the sweet tune of death. He was already quite impressed with her initiative, as most hopefuls of the guard had before attempted to work defensively and tire the older man out (which never worked). He quietly let the force flow through him, slowing down his perception of time as he rushed to analyze his opponent further, taking in her current stance and emotion to devise a way to break through it and end the quick duel in his favour. The Eighth Guard finally decided on relying upon the vitality of his whip, prompting him to begin a wide swing to the right with it, changing the direction suddenly when he observed a change in the direction of her defences, the weapon reacting to his touch and striking her on the side of the torso, shocking her moderately.

As the last spark of electricity between the whip and its victim disconnected, something happened that not even the Praetorian could've predicted. One of the fuses he had been cutting and repairing suddenly shattered and permitted the energy flow of the device to overload and shut down, rendering it useless until he could complete the fixes he had been in the middle of before the intrusion. He allowed it to retract into its original form and cast it off before dodging any more swings that were directed at him from the girl, kicking the bench he had been sitting on back against the wall to give him more room to manoeuvre away from the sabre blade.

Eight could've made a leap for the weapons on the wall, various vibroblades and power hammers that he was already adept in using to their maximum potential, but that would've left him open to an attack of opportunity. No, instead he held his ground, raising his arms into a signature stance of Teras Kasi, something he hoped the initiate knew about for her sake, before beginning his flurry of attacks. He jabbed at her dominant arm, attempting to knock her weapon out of her hand, all the while trying to set her up for a grapple.

The ball was in her court.

[member="Marriskcal Lati"]
 
Praetorian Initiate
Equipment | Training Lightsaber & Throwing Knives
Location | Armoury, Academy of Skye
Meeting | [member="Eighth Guard"]
Status | At least I'm going out in style
oE8nQeb.png

[SIZE=11pt]It was everything she expected and more.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]The moment he stepped out of the vicinity of her slash, the youngling prepared herself to receive his answering blow. Her eyes followed the arc of the whip as it came at her in a broad sweep, her body reacting on instinct and moving to lunge out its way when it changed direction with a flick of her opponent’s wrist. As she has already committed herself to the endeavour, Marriskcal could only prepare herself for the burn of plasma. When the touch of the whip made contact with her side with a sharp crackle hiss, instead of the searing pain the youngling had expected, it was the numbing flow of electricity that coursed through her body. While it hurt, she knew that the knight had placed his weapon to its lowest setting. It was a kinder gesture than she thought him capable of.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]But still. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Ow.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]The area when the whip struck her was completely numb, and all her limbs tingled from the aftereffects of the current. And to think that it was already this potent just from the merest touch of it against her body. It was definitely something Marriskcal did not want to come in contact with again. Glaring balefully at the swordwhip even as she guided the force throughout her body to assuage its effects, the blonde prepared herself for another attack, wary as to its unpredictable movements. And that was when red and white energy that flowed through the electro-plasma whip dissipated. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Marriskcal seized the opportunity that presented itself to her and swept in, her blade flickering in the swift and precise staccato strikes of the Makashi style. As one who grew up all her life within the walls of the Academy, the youngling was the embodiment of her indoctrination. When it came to a confrontation, a Ren never gave their opponents any quarters. A fair fight was reserved for the naïve and ignorant, as she learned back on Virgillia. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Her chances of turning the tide was nonexistent, but Marriskcal did not let the knowledge deter her. No, this test, this fight was the most important occurrence of her life, and the blonde had no intention of submitting. It merely meant that she would have to challenge him the best she could with what little skills she possessed. And that meant pressing on with a series of unrelenting attacks. But even then, the knight anticipated all of her slashes and strikes, stepping effortlessly out of their range. Despite the annoyance which was growing due to her frustration, Marriskcal could not help but to feel enthralled at the ease in which he evaded her. It made the youngling all the more determined to one day reach the same mastery of skills as the Praetorian Knight.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]But because of the close distance that the youngling maintained, when the older male fell into a familiar form, she was at a clear disadvantage. [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]Her senses were screaming at her stay away, to remain out of his reach but it was already too late. The swift blow he dealt to her right arm landed true, and her grip slackened, causing the blade to fall and skitter across the floor. A hiss escaped her as she lost the slight advantage she had. But still, she persisted, her eyes never once leaving his form as she shifted into a similar, but less polished stance. While she had studied Teras Kasi, her knowledge were limited to its basics, the fundamental forms that would serve as the base upon which she would build and develop her skill on in the future.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]It was foolish, the youngling knew. But she did not have many other choices left to her. Marriskcal was already feeling the wear of fatigue due to her persistent onslaught, and with her dominant arm hurting, she knew that their spar would end very soon. Her decision to ignore being on the defensive would probably work to her detriment, but she decided to take one final risk. Her left hand reached and grabbed two throwing knives from the ever-present pouch tied to her thigh, flicking one of them and catching it with her right. Though every small movement sent pricks of pain up her injured arm, the soreness was something Marriskcal was used to working with. She forced her hand to close around the handle, and gave the knight a mirthless smile.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Handling the two slim blades in a reverse grip, Marriskcal launched into her assault. Utilising agile footwork, along with a combination of light shallow slashes whose style were reminiscent of the open hand strikes of the Teras Kasi, the youngling stepped within the knight’s striking range.[/SIZE]
 
The Eighth Guard, Praetorian Knight
Equipment: Praetorian Robes
Location: The Ren Academy - Armoury
Status: Yes, I'm enabling you.
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Frankly, at this point, he was astonished by her ability to keep up with the praetorian knight; not only was she still standing after he stunned her with his whip, but even disarmed she still continued the fight. Internally, he was all but certain that this girl would make a fine addition to the Praetorian Guard, perhaps even outclassing him once she got to his level, but that was still a ways away. For now, though, just because he was impressed didn't mean the fight was over, no, he would still have to mop the floor with her, but that didn't mean he couldn't have a little bit of fun at the same time.

Eight didn't move back when Marr came back into his range, instead, he ducked under one of her strikes and grabbed the arm he had struck earlier, hoping to take advantage at the pain it was likely causing her. He didn't stop there though, for he moved his other arm to slide under her head and lock her into a grappling position as he spun around her, though he earned several shallow slashes on his arm as a reward for his efforts, it didn't affect him too much: pain was an old friend. The man placed his legs next to hers, ready to sweep them at a moments notice if she were to resist any further than previously anticipated, his head right above hers as his lips produced another smirk, though allowing a slight gasp of fatigue to escape.

He had her right where he wanted her, he knew that he was a good few dozen kilos heavier than her, not to mention his harsh regimen kept him as strong as someone at his age and position could be. Though the strategist in him did admit that it was very possible that his prey would be ferocious enough to stab him again and try to break free, nevertheless, he was confident in that he had won this fight.

His beard contrasted against her hair as he adjusted to strengthen his grip on the poor girl, making sure not to hurt her too much in the process. "Are you ready to concede yet, Marr?" He asked somewhat playfully, a tone of seriousness ever present.

[member="Marriskcal Lati"]
 
Praetorian Initiate
Equipment | Training Lightsaber & Throwing Knives
Location | Armoury, Academy of Skye
Meeting | [member="Eighth Guard"]
Status | I will have my revenge
oE8nQeb.png

[SIZE=11pt]It was over in moments.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]The knight moved like how Marriskcal imagined a hurricane given human form would, unrelenting and devastating. Unlike his previous stance of remaining passive while he waited for her to expose the openings in her onslaught before he countered her, he lunged beneath her slash. Her eyes widened at the unforeseen deviation and before she could even move to defend against the blow that she was certain would come, a strong grip closed around her aching arm. Already sore and bruised, the added pressure caused her to flinch and drop her knife to the stone floor. The slight falter in her focus left her vulnerable for a fleeting moment. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]And that was all the knight needed.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]When the youngling felt the warmth of a limb closing around her, comprehension dawned. Marriskcal lashed out with her remaining blade in an attempt to discourage the older male from carrying out his plan. But it was far too late and the blonde knew she was well and thoroughly caught. Even when she knew she was outmatched in every manner, Marriskcal was never a person who liked to concede to losing. A snarl of displeasure left her lips when she felt the puff of the knight’s breath against her hair. While a part of her realised that her opponent was much stronger and bigger than her physically, and no matter how much she struggled, she would not be able to escape, her well-honed instincts shrieked at her to make the attempt.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]As if realising she would not submit to his will so easily, the hold he caught her in tightened, perhaps a quiet warning for her to subside. Caged within the confines of the knight’s body and arms, Marriskcal knew she had ran out of options. With a soft sigh, the blonde tossed her final knife lightly towards the ground, a clear sign of her surrender. “I concede…” she turned slightly in an attempt to meet his gaze, an eye closing as the older male’s beard brushed against her temple, “… for the day.” Though her words carried a hint of challenge and determination, after she finished uttering them, it was as if all her strength has left her.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Without the adrenaline to hold back her fatigue, her limbs started to tremble at the strain she had put them through. She breathed heavily, the pounding of her heart echoing through her body as the last of her energy drained out of her. If not for the firm grasp the knight had caught her in, Marriskcal probably would have fallen to the floor. [/SIZE]
 
The Eighth Guard, Praetorian Knight
Equipment: Praetorian Robes
Location: The Ren Academy - Armoury
Status: Yes, I'm enabling you.
Page_divider_Praetor_with_grad.png
The praetorian knight's smirk only widened as she admitted both defeat and a future challenge to the older man. After ensuring that she had remained true to her word, and after hearing the sound of her throwing knives being dropped to the floor with a soft clang, he loosened his grip on the initiate and removed his arm from over her neck, instead moving it to stabilize her when he sensed her overwhelming fatigue.

He put a hand up to her head, checking her both physically and through the Force. "My, you seem to have tired yourself out already." He pointed out, tutting in faux disapproval. Through skin contact, he began focusing his reserve Force energy into stemming off her fatigue somewhat; he was never one for healing through the Force, therefore the effectiveness could leave one wanting.

"Going to have to take you for a trip to the medbay and get you some bacta and rest." He proclaimed, the words practically rolling from his mouth in his signature accent as he adjusted his position to lift her off of her feet and cradle the young girl in his arms while he began walking out of the armoury. Behind him, his Bilari swordwhip and Marr's weapons would rise into the air as if lifted by an unseen force and be placed onto the bench next to the fusion cutter the knight was using earlier.

Something about his aura changed when he left the room, she could probably easily detect the presence of the Force that he was exerting now, as well as the fact that none of the other Ren that they passed seemed to spare them a single glance, despite their current situation. It would appear that the Eighth Guard was using some sort of Force technique to hide both of them, possibly physically through camouflage or some sort of mental manipulation, either way, it seemed to work.

Eight confided silently in himself, his heart fluttering with each step in the direction of the medical bay, which was apparently too damned far away then he would've liked. Nevertheless, he would see through that his newest addition to the Guard was properly treated, her efforts to fight him should be rewarded promptly, then perhaps room for improvement could be found in her combat technique. He smiled internally, proud of the fact that he had finally had a chance to become a teacher and likely pass on all of the knowledge he had learned through his many years in service of the Supreme Leader.

[member="Marriskcal Lati"]
 
Praetorian Initiate
Location | Medbay, Academy of Skye
Meeting | [member="Eighth Guard"]
Status | Consider me very enabled
oE8nQeb.png

[SIZE=11pt]His hand felt cool against her feverish skin, and with a delighted sigh, the youngling leaned deeper into the touch. Perhaps she would have been more reluctant in the presence of another, but the knight did not seem to mind her particular blend of idiosyncrasy and familiarity, and even seemed to echo it. At his light teasing, however, Marriskcal narrowed her clear blue eyes at the older male. “And whose fault is that?” she groused back at him good-naturedly. While she would probably would be feeling sore and tired over the next few days, the youngling felt pleased that she managed to hold her own for several minutes against the praetorian knight. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]She closed her eyes momentarily, humming in contentment as she felt his force signature melding with her own, chasing away the worst of the fatigue away. A surprised squeak escaped her when the older male shifted his hold and she found herself lifted off the ground. Her eyes flew open and she curled a hand into the crimson robes the male wore to steady herself. Marriskcal would have grumbled at the need to be carried, but considering that she could barely even stand on her own power, she supposed it was the lesser evil, compared to her tumbling to the ground in a graceless heap. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]There was a slight shift in the nature of the older male’s aura as they stepped out into the hallways. She stared up at the knight in silent question, before she transferred her gaze to the other Ren they passed by. After the third and fourth being they walked past did not take more than a glance towards their direction, the youngling relaxed into his hold. She may not know the exact name of the ability that the older knight was using to shroud their presence, but she could discern enough that she knew what he was doing. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]But even if she was not allowed a choice about the visit to the medbay, she was definitely going to protest the need for bacta. “I don’t need bacta. If anyone needs it, it’s you.” Though she has yet to see the cuts, there was a faint scent of blood in the air. Really, most of her injuries were superficial. That, and the thought of the bacta’s slimy texture sticking to her skin was enough of a deterrent. “All I need is some rest and some food, and I’ll be right as rain by tomorrow.” She was not about to let the knight know of her unreasonable dislike of bacta.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]It felt slightly strange to be carried and Marriskcal could not really remember a time when someone last cared after her well-being or held her close. Perhaps… Perhaps she could allow herself to lean on the knight for a bit.[/SIZE]
 
The Eighth Guard, Praetorian Knight
Equipment: Praetorian Robes
Location: The Ren Academy - Medbay
Status: The enabling continues
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Another tut escaped from the knight's lips as he listened to her protests at being taken to the medical bay. "As you are the newest addition to the Guard, it is my responsibility to make sure you are of utmost health;" Eight stated, matter-of-factly "Especially after I, how they say, 'mopped the floor with you'." He fully expected her to lash out with an equally witty remark, part of the reason he said what he said in the first place, it was somewhat endearing to him already. He stifled another smirk, turning a corner down one of the many corridors in the academy, his destination coming closer with each and every step of his booted feet.

Spotting the blast door to the medical bay, he practically hopped through the opening that was created with the sounding of a hydraulic hiss. Once he was certain that the bay was empty of any organic inhabitants, he set the girl down on one of the beds and beckoned for one of the droids to come over, his presence in the Force altering once again as he dropped the apparent camouflage. Once the droid began to fawn over [member="Marriskcal Lati"], the knight silently rolled back one of his sleeves and started treating some of the cuts he had received during the duel.

"You know, I must say." He began, his back turned towards her as he busied himself with first aid, "For a disciple, you have quite the grasp on fighting styles." He tore open a pouch of bacta-gel, spreading it over the damaged tissue while he spoke. "Who was it that taught you to fight?" He asked, a hint of curiosity evident in his voice.
 
Praetorian Initiate
Location | Medbay, Academy of Skye
Meeting | [member="Eighth Guard"]
Status | Countering
oE8nQeb.png

[SIZE=11pt]“You are making it sound more serious than it is.Maybe the part where the electro swordwhip made contact with her should be seen to, but the other injuries were a mere collection of bruises. It seemed too trivial a matter for her to bother anyone with. The second part of the knight’s rejoinder brought a pout to her lips. “And touché. I suppose I will just have to acquit myself by ‘sweeping you off your feet’ with my skills in the future then,” she quipped, giving him a faux guileless smile as she purposely matched the knight’s chosen phrase.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]After the older male has deposited her onto one of the med bay beds and moved away to treat his own cuts, Marriskcal glared at the poor blameless med droid who approached her. She weighed her options, before deciding that it was too much trouble to argue with a persistent droid. Sticking her tongue out at it as a final act of petty defiance, the youngling allowed the droid to fuss over her, muttering uncomplimentary things about it beneath her breath even as she removed her black robes and dropping it beside her as it poked at the forming bruise on her arm gently. “That hurts, stop poking at it.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]As the smooth tone of the knight broke the companionable silence that filled the void in the room, Marriskcal looked up, ignoring how the med droid was pulling up her tank top to prod and check on the wound on the side of her torso. Considering the persistent beeping it was making, the blonde had a high suspicion that she would end up with a bacta patch whether she wanted one or not. Without the weight of his gaze bearing down on her, Marriskcal found that it was easier for her to ruminate over his query.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“Master Jenari is currently my main instructor when it comes to bladework, but I’ve only started seeking Master Kassim recently for guidance when it comes hand-to-hand combat and footwork.” She saw the med droid approaching her once more, the patches held in its robotic arms that was unmistakably bacta. Marriskcal made a face at the droid before she continued her reply. “They only accepted me after I’ve impressed upon them how serious my aspirations were.[/SIZE]
 
The Eighth Guard, Praetorian Knight
Equipment: Praetorian Robes
Location: The Ren Academy - Medbay
Status: The enabling continues
Page_divider_Praetor_with_grad.png
His eyes narrowed down at his forearm as the cuts present earlier sealed themselves, leaving slightly irritated skin in the place of future scars, he already had enough of those. The Eighth Guard turned, his robe twirling in the air as he did, to face the girl. "Masters Jenari and Kassim are both fine teachers, but I feel they will not do well enough when it comes to getting you up to par on the Guard's fighting techniques." The man stated, chocolate eyes twinkling ever so slightly, "I will be calling you for training sessions in the future, I think it will do you well to get some more advanced experience on these subjects."

He replaced his sleeve over his skin, glancing back up at the girl as he did so. "I am the Knight-Praetorian Eighth Guard, formerly Knight of Ren, hence my title; however, you may call me 'Eight'." He said, winking at her. Eight moved for the blast door, stopping and turning around to look at her once again, his lips curling up into a pure smile.

"It was a pleasure meeting you properly, Marriskcal." He mentioned, the girl's name practically rolling off of his tongue as his smile turned into a smirk of amusement. He resumed his course through the now-open door, promptly disappearing from view.

The Eighth Guard walked down the corridor, invisible to others, as he plunged into his thoughts for the encounter. What were these emotions he was feeling? He usually felt nothing but disdain for initiates due to the stupidity and arrogance of those sycophants; but now, he held nothing but affection and praise for this newcomer. Was he losing his ability to remain stoic, was he becoming weak, no better than the Knights of Ren themselves?

He did not know, but he would soon find out.

They both would.

[member="Marriskcal Lati"]
 

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