Private Eye of the Tiger

[Sibylla Abrantes]

​

R O O N
Interacting with: Renn Vizsla Adelle Bastiel Aurelian Veruna
Items: x x x x x

Sibylla gave a roll of her shoulders and lifted both arms overhead, holding the stretch until the faint tremor in her muscles settled into a tolerable ache. The training yard of the Mandalorian Fortress sprawled around her as other groups trained, banners snapping sharply above in the Roon wind. Sibylla took a deep breath, tasting the metal and dust in the air, one of the many reminders along every inch of her body that Mandalorian instruction did not believe in half measures.

She was sore. So deeply, undeniably sore. But it was a better ache than the first days, feeling now more like a warning hum beneath the skin. A sign that she was learning.

She wore training attire that clung close and was practical. No excess fabric. Nothing to grab. Her thick wavy hair had been braided into a crown at the top of her head, pinned tight to keep it from her face and eyes. Movement was everything here. Balance. Timing. Momentum. Sibylla intended to give none of it away for free.

Across the yard, Aurelian was already preparing, his attention fixed on Adelle Bastiel as they squared off already quipping at each other. She gave a heavy snort. Oh she wasn't sure who would out sass the other worse but she was betting Adelle would have Aurelian on his back within five seconds.

Maybe less.

Sibylla's gaze slid instead to Warden Vizsla, who stood waiting. He was taller, broader, and stronger then her -- which was exactly the point. If she was going to survive real fights, real danger, then she needed to learn how to move against opponents who could overpower her if she made a single mistake.

So Sibylla lowered her arms, flexed her fingers once, and exhaled slowly.

This was going to hurt. She knew that.

But she was ready.

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

Location: R O O N
Tags: Adelle Bastiel | Sibylla Abrantes | Renn Vizsla

Aurelian stepped back from the mat and caught the offered canteen, rolling his shoulder once before taking a long drink. Sweat darkened the collar of his training tunic and his smile came easy despite it. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and glanced at Adelle, who looked far too pleased with herself.

"I don't think this is as fun as my parties," he said lightly. "Fewer musicians. Worse refreshments. And everyone insists on throwing me into the dirt instead of applauding."

He took another swallow, eyes cutting sideways as he spoke, tracking movement across the yard. Sibylla stood facing Vizsla, calm and deliberate, coiled tight with intent. Aurelian's gaze lingered there longer than necessary. He had noticed things since training began. How she conserved motion. How she watched hands and feet before faces. How pain did not make her reckless, only quieter.

He capped the canteen and tossed it aside, turning his attention back to Adelle with a crooked grin. "I'll admit, though, the company is excellent. You do commit to the bit."

"I have to say," he said, amusement threaded with challenge, "I imagined a Jedi and a Mandalorian would put up more of a fight than this. I may have been promised something far more terrifying."

His smile softened, just slightly, as Sibylla stepped forward to meet the Warden again. He learned best by watching, and today she was teaching him more than she knew.

​

 

[Renn Vizsla]

L E S S O N S

Tag: Sibylla Abrantes | Aurelian Veruna | Adelle Bastiel




Renn Vizsla watched the training yard the way a veteran watched a battlefield, quietly, comprehensively, without wasting motion.

The Mandalorian Fortress sprawled beneath a hard sky, banners snapping and cracking in the Roon wind like challenge calls. Steel rang against steel in distant rings, shouts carried and broke apart, and the dust underfoot never quite settled. It was a place built for strain, for pressure, for learning the difference between pain that broke and pain that taught.

He stood at the edge of the sparring space assigned to them, hands loosely clasped behind his back, posture relaxed but ready. Today, there was no beskar, no helm, no sigils of rank to speak of. Renn wore a simple grey tunic, unadorned, practical, paired with fitted dark trousers and boots meant for grip rather than ceremony. The fabric moved easily with him when he shifted his weight, when he rolled his shoulders once to loosen muscle still carrying the memory of yesterday’s drills.

It was deliberate. Armor changed the lesson. Presence changed the lesson. Today was about bodies, balance, and consequence, not about the myth of the Mandalorian Warmaster looming over the Monarch of Naboo.

His gaze moved briefly across the yard, noting Aurelian and Adelle. He suspected the Chancellor would learn something painful today, likely accompanied by commentary.

But his attention returned where it belonged.

To Sibylla.

He did not size her up the way lesser fighters might, no crude accounting of reach or mass, no dismissive certainty. He had trained too many warriors, watched too many underestimate and bleed for it. Instead, he measured readiness in subtler signs: breath control, stillness after exertion, the way tension sat in the hands rather than the shoulders.

She had been learning. That much was clear.

Renn stepped forward, boots crunching softly against packed earth as he entered the ring space. He stopped a few paces away, leaving distance intact, respectful. No rush. No false dominance. He rolled his neck once, then flexed his fingers, testing the feel of the air, the ground, the quiet awareness that preceded violence.

“This isn’t a demonstration,” he said evenly, voice carrying just enough to cut through the yard’s noise without demanding attention. “And it isn’t a ceremony.”

He lifted his hands, not into a guard yet, just open, relaxed, showing nothing hidden.

“When this starts, I won’t be gentle,” Renn continued, matter-of-fact. “But I won’t be reckless either. You won’t learn from me pulling strikes. And you won’t learn from me trying to win.”

His dark eyes remained on her, steady, assessing without intrusion. He let the words settle before adding, quieter but no less firm, “If at any point you need to stop, you say so. No pride, no delay.”

Renn shifted his stance slightly, testing footing, feeling how the wind tugged at cloth rather than plates. Without armor, he was more honest; every mistake would belong to him alone. He approved of that.

“You’re sore,” he observed, not accusatory, simply stating a fact he could read in posture and breath. “That’s good. Means your body’s adapting. Means you didn’t waste yesterday.”

He paused, then inclined his head a fraction, a subtle acknowledgment rather than a bow.

“Before we begin,” Renn said, “I need to hear it from you.”

A beath.

“Are you ready to move against someone who will not give you space?” His tone remained calm, instructional. “Someone who will crowd you, outweigh you, and punish hesitation.”

Another pause, intentional. He was not watching for bravado. He was watching for resolve.

“If you think you can manage,” he finished, hands finally lowering toward the beginnings of a guard without fully settling into it, “then we start clean. When you say the word.”

The wind snapped the banners overhead again. Somewhere nearby, metal struck metal, and someone laughed through pain.

Renn Vizsla waited, still, focused, prepared, giving her the moment to choose before the lesson truly began.

 

[Adelle Bastiel]

Training Yard | Roon
Tags: Aurelian Veruna | Sibylla Abrantes | Renn Vizsla

The wind blew hard enough and intermittent enough that the sound of banners cracking in the breeze punctuated the sounds of training all around them. Adelle stood with her hands on her hips, feet shoulder-width apart, waiting. For someone that had been running drills all day, she didn't look tired. The only sign of physical exertion was the thin sheen of sweat on her face and even then, the rush of wind kept that at bay. She had opted to wear a practical grey tunic today, much like Warden Vizsla, with her tank top providing a nice barrier between the rougher, sturdier fabric and the more sensitive skin, as well as a last defense for modesty. Throwing and grappling people often moved clothing out of place as much as it moved the fighters.

Opposite her, drenched in sweat and drinking from a canteen like it had air for breathing, Aurelian still smiled, still cracked jokes. Good.

She hadn't broken him yet.

"Depends on your definition of fun," she said with a shameless grin. "I'm having fun."

He brought up her history as a Jedi and her present as a Mandalorian, claiming he'd been sold a false premise. Challenge hummed lightly under his humor. Adelle raised her eyebrows.

No, she hadn't broken him yet.

But now she was tempted to try.

Aurelian's gaze and attention drifted over to another ring, his face contemplative and studious. Adelle glanced over and saw Warmaster Vizsla and Sibylla squaring up. Both masters of understatement and composure. Ah. This was becoming a problem. Aurelian's attention had kept slipping, which was why she kept throwing him.

Well now she had another excuse.

Adelle rolled her shoulders and arms, loosening up her muscles for something decidedly outside of their drills. Moving faster than she had in their drills, she closed the distance, gripping Aurelian's tunic at the wrist and shoulder. She planted a foot between his legs and threw him over her shoulder. The thump of his body hitting the ground gave her a little satisfaction.

"Eyes on me, Veruna," she said. "When we're done for the day and you and Sibylla head back to whatever accomodations you have, you can stare at her all you like during your 'private sparring matches.' For now? Better not blink or I'll have to get you a pillow."

She picked up the canteen that had been in his hand and capped it, tossing it to the side. "Again. Until you can do these in your sleep."

 

[Sibylla Abrantes]

​

Adelle Bastiel Aurelian Veruna
Interacting with: Renn Vizsla n
Items: x x x x x

Sibylla met Renn's gaze without flinching, taking a deep breath that filled her lungs with the chilly air and a wave of absolute resolution. The wind tugged at the loose ends of her braid, and while the yard was alive with noise and movement around them her focus stayed fixed where it mattered.

Even if she knew fully well just by hearing alone that Aurelian was flipped by Adelle onto the floor. Oof.

She knew how hard the woman could throw. It would be interesting to see how he reacted with his Parrlay tactics and Republic Forces training. How would that face off against a Force using Mandalorian?

For now, however, Sibylla's attention was solely on Renn. She was taking this very seriously.

"I understand," she said simply.

This was the point of all of it. Not form. Not ceremony. But her survival.

"Yes," Sibylla continued, making it clear to Renn what this meant and why it was important to her. "I need to be able to fight when people crowd me. When they don't pull punches. When they mean to hurt me… or kill me."

Kenari flickered through her mind. The Senate attacks. The kidnapping of Kalantha and as always, rival House matters that had almost ended her life with assassination attempts more than once

None of it is theoretical anymore. It was her life.

"I've spent the past year learning not to hesitate," she said. "To react. To incapacitate so I can get away… or to end a situation as fast as possible."

She tightened her jaw and nodded.

"I cannot depend on others to protect me. It isn't fair to them, and it certainly isn't fair to me." She took a controlled breath. "So don't hold back, Warden Vizsla. I need this to be real."

Sibylla shifted into a stance, her arms rising slightly to give herself some movement. She would, of course, also need to train as if she didn't have any heads up of an incoming attack, but that was after.

"I'm ready."

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

Location: R O O O N
Tags: Adelle Bastiel | Sibylla Abrantes | Renn Vizsla

Aurelian barely registered Adelle's grin or the way she shifted her stance. His attention had already slipped the leash.

Across the way, Sibylla moved. Not dramatically, not loudly. A measured step. A subtle adjustment of balance. Aurelian felt it in his chest, the quiet thrill of watching someone learn in real time. He leaned slightly forward, canteen hanging loose in his hand, mind half a step ahead of what he was seeing.

Something grabbed his wrist.

"What?" Aurelian said, distracted, already turning his head back toward the other ring. The world inverted.

Adelle's grip locked at his shoulder and sleeve, her foot cutting cleanly between his legs. For a heartbeat, there was weightlessness and surprise. Then gravity hit him hard. The mat slammed into his back with a dull, unforgiving thump that drove every scrap of air out of his lungs.

He lay there for a moment, staring up at the sky, lungs burning as he dragged air back in. The taste of dust and sweat filled his mouth. Somewhere above him, Adelle was talking. He caught none of it.

She demanded his attention. The pressure of her presence finally forced his focus back into his body. Aurelian groaned and turned his head, blinking up at her, hair plastered to his forehead, smile still stubbornly intact.

"Have you seen her?" he said hoarsely. "It's hard to keep my eyes off of her."

He rolled to one knee before she could reset, annoyance sparking into challenge. The ache in his back sharpened his grin. He surged forward, hands reaching to catch Adelle's arm and shoulder, intent on dragging her balance down with him. If she wanted his attention, she was going to have to fight for it.

Now, he wanted to win.

​

 

[Renn Vizsla]

C O I L E D

Tag: Sibylla Abrantes | Aurelian Veruna | Adelle Bastiel





Renn listened without interruption.

He didn’t soften at the words, but something in his expression settled, approval, perhaps, or recognition. Not of rank, not of resolve spoken for an audience, but of a truth arrived at the hard way. He had heard those reasons before, from warriors and civilians alike, usually after the world had taught them that hesitation was a luxury.

When she finished, Renn inclined his head.

It was not a Mandalorian salute, nor a warrior’s boast. It was a simple bow, measured, deliberate, offered from one fighter to another. The grey tunic shifted with the motion, unencumbered by plates or sigils, and when he straightened, his posture had changed.

The lesson had begun.

“I hear you,” he said, voice low but unmistakably firm. “And I won’t insult you by pretending this is anything else.”

He stepped back half a pace, boots settling into the packed earth as he adjusted his footing. One foot angled slightly outward, knees loose, weight balanced and ready to move in any direction. His hands came up, not high, not tight, open-palmed at first, elbows relaxed, a stance built to react rather than dictate. No wasted tension. No telegraphed intent.

Renn’s eyes stayed on Sibylla, tracking breath, shoulders, the subtle shifts of balance that betrayed where a strike wanted to go before it ever moved. The wind tugged at his sleeves; dust skittered across the ground between them.

“This is real,” he agreed quietly. “So treat it that way.”

He didn’t circle her. He didn’t advance. Instead, he held his ground, close enough to threaten, far enough to allow choice. Crowd and counter would come soon enough. For now, the responsibility was hers.

Renn lowered his chin a fraction, gaze never leaving her centerline.

“Your move,” he said simply.

And he waited, still, coiled, prepared to meet whatever she chose to commit to first.

 

[Sibylla Abrantes]

​

Interacting with: Renn Vizsla | Adelle Bastiel Aurelian Veruna
Items: x x x x x

Sibylla didn't hesitate.

The moment the space settled, she moved, keeping her movements fast and low. She drove in at the Warden at an angle rather than straight on, attempting to use speed instead of force, her boots biting into the packed dirt as she closed the distance. Smaller meant quicker and she intended to make that count.

She dipped under his reach, shoulder turning as she aimed for his center of balance rather than his chest, one hand snapping toward his lead leg while the other went for his hip. Not to overpower him, that would be foolish, but to perhaps disrupt him and force him to react instead of advance.

If she couldn't bring him down outright, she would make him move.

And that, for now, was enough.

 

[Adelle Bastiel]

Tags: Aurelian Veruna | Sibylla Abrantes | Renn Vizsla

Being an empath meant Adelle felt the moment the nature of the training changed.

Having precognition meant she had more notice of Aurelian's charge than a normal person.

Adelle faced him as he lunged, already in motion as he grabbed her tunic. She brought her elbow inside the arm that had a fistful of fabric and gripped the wrist that had her arm, driving her shoulder into his side. A foot planted behind his and she hooked an arm under his knee. His weight and size did the rest as she used her leverage.

"You've had prior training," she said, stepping quickly out of his reach. She knew better than to stand over someone like that. Aurelian had just proven why. "What made you seek out Mandalorian training?"

She didn't reset back to the start of the drill. It wouldn't do any good at this point--Aurelian wanted more than that. More than just the repetition of drilling motion into muscle memory. Instead she settled into a ready stance, hands open but in a guard. If he wanted a challenge, Adelle would oblige. She'd been missing her sparring sessions with Na'an lately.

And if he wanted to see the Jedi Master, maybe he'd find out.

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

Location: R O O O O N
Tags: Adelle Bastiel | Sibylla Abrantes | Renn Vizsla

Aurelian hit the mat again with a startled grunt, breath punched from his chest for the second time in as many minutes. He lay there longer this time. "Right," he groaned, voice muffled. "That tracks."

He rolled onto his back and stared up, sweat stinging his eyes, a crooked smile pulling at his mouth despite himself. This was not a room full of courtiers or officers who nodded along because of a title. Adelle had no interest in his rank, his name, or his charm. She saw angles. Weight. Openings. She hit them. Mandalorian first and foremost.

Aurelian dragged himself upright, one knee down, one foot planted. His back protested as he rose, but he ignored it. Pain was information. He dusted his hands on his tunic and looked at her properly this time, breath steadying, focus narrowing.

"Just because I'm a politician doesn't mean I'm helpless," he said, a little sharp, a little proud. "I didn't spend years in the army to learn how to stand behind a podium."

He straightened fully, shoulders rolling once as he reset his stance. The playful edge softened into something more honest. "I know how to fight. I know how to lead people who can. I know how to make decisions when things go bad."

His eyes flicked briefly across the yard, toward Sibylla and Renn, before returning to Adelle. "But I also know the limits of my own people. The training I can get stops somewhere well short of what you've lived your whole life."

He lifted his hands, guard imperfect but improving. "And I won't pretend that's enough anymore."

There it was. The reason beneath the jokes.

"If someone wants to hurt me," he continued, voice quieter, firmer, "or anyone I care about, I want to be ready. Not surrounded. Ready."

He did not wait for approval. Aurelian dipped his level and drove forward, fast and committed, shoulder cutting toward her hip as his arms wrapped for a single leg. It was rough, imperfect, stubborn as hell. If there was one thing he had always been, it was persistent. And he intended to learn something from this, even if it put him on his back again.

​

 

[Adelle Bastiel]

Tags: Aurelian Veruna | Sibylla Abrantes | Renn Vizsla

Adelle listened, controlling her breathing, while Aurelian spoke. His polished charm was stripped, the devil-may-care humor gone, leaving nothing but naked honesty in his voice. He wanted more. To defend, to protect, to act when the time came. He wanted to keep the person he loved safe. She knew that feeling.

She also knew what it was like to have the power and still fail.

"Then know this--" she started.

Aurelian charged.

He could have gone for any number of tactics but he'd gone for a grapple. He grabbed her leg. Adelle leaned over him and wrapped her arms around his back, throwing her weight back. Her shoulders hit the dirt as she used momentum to throw him again. She rolled back onto her feet quickly to face him, hands open and in a neutral guard.

"--this will only buy you time," she finished like she hadn't just hit the earth with the weight of someone that stood a head taller than her. "You're good at not staying down. Quicker recovery will come with time. But persistence without learning will only wear you out. If at first you don't succeed, find out why."

This time, Adelle went on the offensive. No grappling, but quick, clean strikes aimed at the vulnerable parts of his torso followed by a roundhouse kick to his side. The moveset the drill had been the foundation of but faster. Motion made instinct. If he recognized it and caught the leg, well, she had options.

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

Location: R O O O O O N
Tags: Adelle Bastiel | Sibylla Abrantes | Renn Vizsla

Aurelian hit the ground hard again, the impact rattling through his ribs. He sucked in a sharp breath and laughed once, breathless and incredulous, as he rolled with the motion and kicked himself back upright.

"Noted," he said, wiping sweat from his eyes as he reset. "Extensively noted."

He barely had time to settle before Adelle came at him. No pause. No space to think. Just motion. His focus snapped fully into place as her strikes drove toward his center. He shifted, deflected, took one glancing hit that made his teeth click together. Pain flared and sharpened his attention.

"See, this is the part I dont like," he called, circling to keep his footing. "All the being hit."

The roundhouse came fast. He saw it late, reacted on instinct, arms moving before thought caught up. He stepped in and caught her leg against his side, hands locking around her calf. The impact jarred his shoulder, but he held it, boots skidding a fraction in the dirt.

Aurelian grinned at her, breath heavy, eyes bright with the thrill of it. "There," he said, almost pleased. "That's learning."

He shifted his weight, testing balance, already planning his next move. He might not win this, but he was done being easy.

​

 

[Adelle Bastiel]

Tags: Aurelian Veruna | Sibylla Abrantes | Renn Vizsla

"If you don't like getting hit, get good," she said.

As soon as he caught the leg, Adelle rotated her hips forward and pulled her leg in, pushing Aurelian back before bringing it back into a fighting stance once more.

He was indeed learning.

“See what happens when you pay attention to the person kicking your ass?” she said, breath coming a little harder now. “You want to survive and help others survive. Admirable. What’s your weapons training like?”

As a politician, he’d never be able to go one-on-one with someone his size or larger that had been training for a long time. Adelle herself wouldn’t be able to go toe-to-toe with Aurelian had he the training she had. A force multiplier, like a weapon or superior skill, would be needed and even then, Aurelian had her beat with reach. How much more so would he need these if he was getting attacked.

She went through the moveset again at the same pace she’d set before. Only this time she altered it. Instead of the roundhouse, she went for a side kick with the opposite leg, aimed at center mass and not at full power.

How he handled it would prove interesting.

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

Location: R O O O O O O N
Tags: Adelle Bastiel | Sibylla Abrantes | Renn Vizsla

The adjustment caught him clean.

Adelle's kick drove into his center and sent him stumbling back a step, boots scraping hard against the dirt. The impact knocked a sharp breath from his chest. Aurelian recovered quickly, shoulders rolling as he reset, irritation flashing across his face before he scoffed.

"Oh, I am good," he shot back, breath uneven but controlled. "I just haven't been trained since coming out of the womb to raid and pillage like Mandalorians have."

He shifted his stance, hands up, eyes locked on her. Inside, his thoughts raced, cataloging timing and distance, the way she masked intent until the last second. Shiraya, she was fast. And disciplined. He hated how much he respected it.

"And you've got the Force," he added, a grin tugging sharp at the corner of his mouth. "That helps."

Uneven bout or not, he was still standing. Still reacting. Still learning. He flowed forward into a series of strikes, testing angles, pressing speed where strength failed him. She turned them aside with infuriating ease, every parry precise, economical.

"I'm an expert with a blade," he said, circling, voice firm with conviction. "A sensible marksman. I can hold my own. No Force mysticism required."

She came again. This time he was ready. His hands snapped up just in time to absorb the side kick, forearms braced as the impact shuddered through him. He held it for half a heartbeat longer than he should have.

Arrogance flared. Aurelian surged forward and flicked the same kick back at her, mirroring her movement with rough confidence. Not perfect. Not clean. But bold. And learning.

​

 

[Adelle Bastiel]

Tags: Aurelian Veruna | Sibylla Abrantes | Renn Vizsla

Adelle didn't bother to respond to his first comment about Mandalorians being taught to raid and pillage from the womb. Instead she focused on deflecting and turning away his strikes, falling into the flow of combat. She did raise an eyebrow when he attributed her skill to the Force. Did he think she learned all of this just from the Mandalorians? Perhaps he'd be surprised to learn how often the philosophy behind certain lightsaber forms could be used with hand-to-hand combat.

Soresu had been a favored form, particularly after she'd lost her first lightsaber, a double-bladed one, to a Hutt lord. It prioritized defense and endurance over aggression, outlasting your opponent until they slipped up and gave you an opening. Aurelian launched into another quick succession of strikes and she turned them away, using his own weight and energy against him.

"I'm an expert with a blade," he said, circling, voice firm with conviction. "A sensible marksman. I can hold my own. No Force mysticism required."

"It's a blessing and a curse," Adelle said.

He held his block longer than he should have and it gave Adelle time to reset. Then he came at her with the same side kick she'd just executed. Adelle took a step back and, instead of deflecting, she grabbed his heel and threw it in the direction his body was turned for the kick. To keep his balance, he'd have to expose his back to her. Which meant she could get inside his guard if she wanted.

But she was meant to be teaching and training, not taking every opportunity to bruise the Interim High Chancellor.

"There's a few things I can't 'turn off' like Force Empathy or Danger Sense. Precognition's a bit of a mixed bag too and not always reliable." Adelle let him reset, returning to the open-handed stance she had earlier. Waiting. "I only use the Force if I need to catch a thermal det."

 

[Renn Vizsla]

T A U N T

Tag: Sibylla Abrantes | Aurelian Veruna | Adelle Bastiel




Renn Vizsla did not retreat.

That, more than anything, was the point.

As Sibylla closed the distance, fast and angled, Renn simply shifted his weight, barely. No step back. No dramatic brace. His lead foot turned a fraction in the dirt, heel light, as if he were adjusting for comfort rather than an incoming strike. To an untrained eye it might have looked like indifference.

It wasn’t.

When she dipped low, aiming for his balance rather than his mass, Renn let her come. His hand dropped, not hurried, not forceful, intercepting her reach toward his leg with an open palm that guided rather than stopped. He didn’t grab. He didn’t strike. He redirected the line of motion just enough that her effort slid past where it needed to be.

At the same time, his other hand settled briefly at her wrist near his hip, not to trap it, not to wrench it away, just a touch, a presence, a reminder that he was already there.

Still no step back.

Renn’s posture remained upright, almost casual, shoulders loose, chin level. He allowed the momentum to pass across his frame, turning with it the bare minimum required so that she never quite found his center. Dirt scuffed under his boots as he pivoted, the motion economical to the point of seeming lazy.

He could have countered.

He didn’t.

Instead, as the motion carried through, Renn released her arm and reset his stance in the same breath, hands returning to that open, patient guard. His eyes never left her, not predatory, not mocking, but calm in a way that carried its own pressure.

“That’s good,” he said, evenly, almost conversational. “You didn’t come straight in.”

He hadn’t raised his voice. He hadn’t advanced. If anything, he looked as though he were waiting for something more interesting to happen.

“But you’re asking me to move,” Renn continued, shifting his weight again, just enough to demonstrate how little she had taken from him. “And you haven’t given me a reason yet.”

A faint tilt of his head, not a taunt in words, but close enough.

“Again.”​

 

[Sibylla Abrantes]

​

Renn Vizsla

But you're asking me to move and you haven't given me a reason yet.

Sibylla found her footing and didn't waste it.

Again.

Okay fine. Sibylla thought as she circled instead of charging, boots sliding over the dirt as she attempted to force Renn to turn with her. Not fast enough to be reckless or slow enough to give him time. She wated for the moment she felt the smallest shift in his weight so she could make her move.

She dropped low again, conducting a quick feint toward his knee meant to draw his attention, then snapped upward without warning. Her elbow drove toward his ribs, trying to use her slighter frame to keep tight and compact, making use of all speed and intent rather than strength. At the same time, her foot hooked behind his ankle to try and pull him off balance.

She stayed close. Close enough that he couldn't fully extend and close enough that the tight space became her weapon instead of his.

Her breath came in quick, her pulse hamering in her ears, her entire forcus narrowed to the line of his center.

Make him move.

Make him choose.

That was what she wanted as Sibylla pressed forward, trying her best to adjust for whatever he would throw back at her next.

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

Location: R O O O O O O O N
Tags: Adelle Bastiel | Sibylla Abrantes | Renn Vizsla

Aurelian twisted as she redirected his kick, boots scraping as he fought for balance. He recovered, barely, shoulders turning just in time to keep his feet under him. The opening she spared him did not go unnoticed. He exhaled through his nose, half a laugh, half a breath he had been holding too long.

Inside, his pulse hammered. She could have put him down again. Easily. That restraint bothered him more than the throws.

He reset his stance, rolling his neck once, eyes sharp and bright with interest. "A curse," he said, nodding to her explanation. "No mistake about it."

His smile returned, dangerous and amused. "You have my condolences. Truly. Being haunted by the future sounds exhausting."

He shifted his weight, circling, just enough pressure to keep her engaged. His body ached now, a dull thrum beneath the skin, but it only sharpened his focus. If she was holding back, he wanted to know how much.

"Tell me," Aurelian said lightly, voice carrying a deliberate edge, "are you getting tired yet?"

He tilted his head, studying her, curiosity burning hot behind his eyes. Not just as a fighter, but as a phenomenon. "Because I can keep this up all day. And I'm wondering how long it takes before that curse of yours starts to feel… inconvenient."

He stepped in again, testing her guard, probing without fully committing. Inside, a reckless thought sparked and refused to die.

What would it take to draw that darker edge out of her?

​

 

[Adelle Bastiel]

Tags: Aurelian Veruna | Sibylla Abrantes | Renn Vizsla

"Futures," she corrected. "And you never know which one will happen."

He began circling and she turned with him, watching where he looked and how his body moved. Adelle snorted when he asked if she was tired yet. "Do you know what 'training to failure' even is?"

He claimed he could do it all day but Adelle had been training since she was six—according to her Order's records. Even during her time as an enforcer for Krayt, the earliest of her memories, she'd always been fighting or training almost daily. It helped her through her recovery period and steadied her on her bad days. The Mandalorians had only encouraged that drive.

Aurelian's head tipped to the side, eyes sharpening with scrutiny. Questions. Kriff. Adelle kept her face neutral, never let her eyes leave his vicinity, never let her focus waver. If there was one thing she'd made sure she was good at, it was focus. His probe was met and lightly deflected, but the initial strike lacked power. A test.

Good. Charging in blindly often only worked for a very short time.

"Which one?" she asked, the words slipping out before her brain caught up with her. Adelle smirked. "I've got quite the collection."

Still, she waited for him to make a move. He did say he wanted to see the Jedi and the Mandalorian.

Both had learned patience and waiting for the right moment.

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

Location: R O O O O O O O O N
Tags: Adelle Bastiel | Sibylla Abrantes | Renn Vizsla

Aurelian snorted softly, rolling his shoulders as he kept circling. "Futures. Yes. Whatever helps you sleep," he said, dry as dust. His grin sharpened. "If it helps, I can see all of them too. And in every single one, I kick your ass."

Inside, he knew that was a lie. Or at least optimistic fiction. But confidence was a weapon, and he wielded it well.

He rocked back on his heels and pitched his voice lower, roughening it in mock imitation. "Oh, I'm Adelle. I've got a lot of curses. The future talks to me. It's exhausting." He shrugged exaggeratedly, then let the act drop. "Tragic, really."

He moved.

Aurelian stepped in fast with a jab to draw her guard, followed by a tight cross aimed high. He shifted his hips and snapped a short kick toward her thigh, testing balance, then rolled his shoulder through with a hook meant to crowd her space.

Inside, the reckless thought returned, louder now. If patience was her weapon, then persistence was his.

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