Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Fun for the Whole Gang[Ask for Invite]

Moroi Wareyasui

Cocky Little Poohead
The heat of this dust bowl of a planet made him long for the idyllic and temperate conditions of Tython. Tugging his soiled clothing from his skin, Moroi made his way back to the canyon, guessing that was his destination given the nature of Ataru and his teacher not contradicting his hypothesis, hoping his guess was accurate given the lack of direction he was given for the morning. Thankfully, he guessed correctly, finding @[member="Krest"] already there and playing with a saber in his hands. The hilt was similar to the odd blade the man had given Moroi the day prior, prompting Moroi to retrieve the weapon from his belt, his eyes filled with the same determination and fire that they held the whole night before. Moroi was still tired and sore, but exuberance and The Force itself gave him strength and, coupled with his own determination, was a powerful thing. His voice was calm yet firm, feeling almost as much a command as a question.

"Next?"
 
Krest ignited his blade, holding the crimson energy to the side. He was absent of Deus, but he didn't seem bothered by it. "Next we see how good you are with a blade. You have determination and control over the force, but what are your skills with a blade? I do not know, for you chose to use your fists. So, I say come at me. Show me what you can do with a saber and we shall press on."

The Zabrak kept his blade outstretched to the side, his blue eyes gazing into @[member="Moroi Wareyasui"]. His breaths were deliberate, focused and small. Both of his feet dug into the ground, spread and bent slightly at the knee. This was not Ataru. No, this was Krest's style. His Juyo. His muscles were tense, ready to spring at any moment. More tests. More challenges for the boy. This was about pushing him to his limit, to his breaking point and past.

"Come."
 

Moroi Wareyasui

Cocky Little Poohead
The boy's eyes narrowed as @[member="Krest"] spoke, as Krest positioned himself. His stance, his positioning, all of it was wrong, it was not at all like what Moroi saw yesterday. If what he had been using yesterday was Ataru, this was definitely not it. What was it? Moroi was allowed to look at holocrons depicting five out of the seven styles. They warned against studying much more even on a theoretical level, lest he knew too much information that it detracted from his understanding of it. That was a pretty pesky point of irritation for him, but he knew enough about the first five forms to know that this stance fit none of them. Which meant he was either utilizing Niman or Juyo. The third option was he was doing nothing at all and merely sought to annoy Moroi, which was very well within the realm of possibility, but between the two options Moroi could learn anything from and his knowledge of Krest, Niman seemed unlikely. It was not that Moroi believed he did not know Niman or was incapable of practicing it, Moroi felt that was rather far from the case, but Moroi was good at reading people and their personalities and Niman was a style of conservation, reputably. Conservative beliefs epitomized the Jedi Order, no, he was going to use something farther from Moroi's beliefs, he was far too amused with testing his resolve and determination. That left Juyo, the style he was specifically told not to pursue given his rather...volatile temperament. It was a style of aggression, of offense. Moroi's hand dropped to his side, Krest's blue bladed saber in his hand, igniting and letting the soft hum of crackling energy to match his opponent's.

To defeat your opponent, you always sought to prevent them from doing what they wanted to do. If Krest was using a form that wanted to be aggressive, Moroi had to try and take that away from him. The best way to do that was not to attack Krest necessarily, but it was to attack his weapon, to force him on the defensive and limit his chances for a counter attack and to keep doing so until he could force a mistake. He doubted he'd find success, Krest was a far more accomplished bladesman than he, but that simply meant that Moroi did not need to hold back. Showcasing just how much he had come along with the use of Force Speed, Moroi shot forward, his body positioned on the side where Krest's saber laid outstretched and in moment's the blue bladed saber was racing for the man's side. He need to keep forcing Krest to block for as long as possible and prevent him from gaining any momentum...or Moroi knew he was finished.
 
Krest kept his position calm, his blade still outstretched to the side in a light grip. Even as @[member="Moroi Wareyasui"]'s form moved closer, the Zabrak remained still. Baised on the previous reactiosn the boy was going to be aggressive. Try to push the Templar back. He couldn't help but smile. This was a test for Moroi, not to see who was a better duelist. So Krest moved to the defensive, whipping his blade up to catch Moroi's.

His crimson red blade presses against the blue, an oddly familiar site to Krest. His face turned into a frown for just a moment, then went back to focus. No flashbacks today. Krest's free hand came around, sending a push of the Force for Moroi's legs. Hopefully the boy would learn to keep moving, pick up the basics of Ataru from this test alone. If not, it wouldn't be hard to teach him the basics with an actual lesson.
 

Moroi Wareyasui

Cocky Little Poohead
There was always something special about that time when two lightsabers met, the power to be felt was something that Moroi loved and it was not any different with the anomalous weapons they presently carried. He could feel the tensions in his body, the muscles coiling, fighting with a lightsaber was honestly not that different than his hand to hand training. The same philosophies applied, the same beliefs, the same conditions. Moroi was most alive in situations like this. Moroi dropped his center of gravity, dropping down to get leverage under Krest's blade, using the advantage he had from two hands on his blade versus the one his opponent had and as his hand came around push at his legs, Moroi kicked off the ground, using the leverage of under his opponent's weapon to push it up with him and attempt to shove it away from Krest's body. Moroi's right foot came forward first and pushed off of Krest's thigh, using his leg to spring board the much smaller and nimbler Moroi in to the air behind @[member="Krest"].

A wide smile was on Moroi's face as he twisted his hips, building the centrifugal force and whipping his lightsaber back around, still attacking the side that Krest held his saber in, and aiming to deliver a powerful blow to the side of his head. Ataru was not a far jump from the way Moroi had been fighting his whole life, the only difference now was that he had a lightsaber and he had a lot more chance to apply deadly force instead of putting him in an arm lock and threatening to break the bones. He wasn't sure which he preferred yet.
 
Krest was a cyborg. Throughout his life he had sustained injuries that removed his arm and his leg, but he never looked at them as a downside. He modified his limbs to hold a multitude of what ever he felt like stashing in them. He always fought with his robotic limb free, utilizing it to focus the force, and if need be spring his traps. The boy was quick, and with Krest not wanting to attack @[member="Moroi Wareyasui"] forced Krest to spring one of them. His crimson red blade flew down as Moroi went up, causing Krest to lift up his free hand. As the boy spun his free hand snapped back, aligning the emitter in his palm with the rest of the saber hilt. The short pale blue blade came to life as he went to catch the blade. His left hand went in front of his face, and he succeeded.

The red saber went off during this exchange. Krest brought up his right hand, the force built up in his palm brimming. He sent the blast at Moroi while he was on his way down, if only to give himself soem breathing room. He was good, and Krest needed to stop underestimating him.
 

Moroi Wareyasui

Cocky Little Poohead
"Poodoo..."

Moroi was not ready for the man's cybernetic arm and its ability to repel and meet a lightsaber and as his swing came around and crashed in to the extended palm, Moroi not so subtly cursed as his blade was halted in its tracks a few inches away from Krest's face. He didn't necessarily want to actually hit Krest, but he was planning to force @[member="Krest"] to continue blocking with his lightsaber, his ability to repel him with both hands threw a considerable wrench in to Moroi's plans. Well, plan, he only had the one. Before gravity could take him however, Krest's armed hand, the ignition on the blade receding, swept around at Moroi. He knew what was coming, the man had already tried to shove him through the force once. The question was Moroi quick enough to respond? Almost. Using the pressure his lightsaber was putting on Krest's hand, Moroi sunk his shoulder forward slightly, pushing against Krest's hand before violently snapping backward as his other hand came around. This forced Moroi's leg forward in an attempt to kick Krest's shoulder and halt the movement of his arm before it could get to Moroi while simultaneously spinning his body to flow with the impact and overall reduce the damage inflicted or avoid it all together. Moroi just wasn't quick enough for things to go perfectly.

Whether his kick successfully landed on Krest's organic shoulder or not, his foot did not get there in time to prevent Krest from leveling the concussive wave against him, the force push slamming in to Moroi's shoulder and catapulting him backward. Using the rotation he built up, Moroi hit the ground in a roll, quickly landing on his feet in a crouched position and leveling his eyes back at Krest, the defiant fire still there as he did small arm circles with his struck shoulder, working away the pain as he planned his next wave of attack. He wasn't going to be able to hurt the mechanical limb without destroying it, so he was just going to need to keep attacking the flesh and blood.
 
Krest found himself stumbling back from the kick. Even though fist fighting never seemed to bother him, the kick struck hard, almost dislocating the Zabrak's shoulder.



Almost. Krest rolled his shoulder a bit, stretching out the pain before looking to @[member="Moroi Wareyasui"]. His palm saber deactivated, the hand returning to it's normal position. Funny story about how he got the saber, something he might explain to Moroi should he ever ask. But now wasn't the time. Moroi proved himself to be more then a handful for the Zabrak, so there was no reason to beat around the bush. His red saber came back to life, held off to the side again.



"Good. You've proven that you can engage, even leap over me. From now on you cannot attack me unless you are flipping in some way. Should you not be in some sort of somersault or cartwheel, I will begin to attack without holding back." He turned his blade forward, gripping the blade with both hands now. The training would finally begin on how to use it in combat utilizing first hand experience.



"Again."
 

Moroi Wareyasui

Cocky Little Poohead
Before @[member="Krest"] could finish the second syllable of his command, Moroi had already shot off at him, even quicker this time and displaying his increasing mastery over Force Speed with every application. It was becoming more and more natural to Moroi, no more complicated than moving his arm, to reach those breakneck speeds, The boy catapulted himself in to the air, hurtling at Krest and spinning violently before swinging his blade in a wide arc that was rather quickly starting to look like Ataru. The lightsaber was aimed in a familiar place, straight for Krest's organic shoulder. This was where Moroi's analytic and intuitive brain was really going to shine. The boy's mind was racing, factoring out all possible moves he could see from both himself and Krest and plotting out the combat. A determined grin was plastered to the boy's face through it all, showing how much more he was enjoying this than his spree as an amateur canyon jumper.
 
Krest opened his mouth as he was talking, but when the boy took off he shut it, smiling. @[member="Moroi Wareyasui"] was certainly going to push himself, and through it the Zabrak. Krest let the Force build throughout his own body before he, too, took off, his form a blur of white, black, and red. Krest brought up his saber with both hands, the red blade hissing as he caught the blue along it's edge. There he planted his feet, both of them slowly building up with the Force. He was not going to make this easy for the boy, and his own mind remained calm, focused only on the next move and how to counter. A wide smile remained on the Zabrak's face as the conflict went on. If there was one thing he loved more then a glass of whiskey was a challenge.
 

Moroi Wareyasui

Cocky Little Poohead
The crackling echoed through the area as their blades met. He wasn't expecting Krest to actually start pushing back, but the emotion displayed on the boy's face was far, far from it. Instead, excitement and eagerness was painted across all his features. He did not want it to be made easier on him, he did not want Krest to put in any less than one hundred percent. He wasn't sure if he could push the man to that, but regardless that was the goal. You didn't grow if you settled for anything but the best out of a situation, from you and others. @[member="Krest"] wanted to push Moroi and Moroi, in order to learn all he could from Krest, sought to do exactly the same thing.

As their sabers connected, Moroi did not stop his rotational momentum and kept his body moving forward, the boy's form rolling around Krest's weapon like a river flowing around a stone. As he moved, the boy took one hand off his weapon and tucked his forearm and raised his shoulder, aiming to use his spinning velocity and his lightsaber's contact against Krest's to give him an open elbow to his head. Moroi would then drop to the ground, his back to Krest, before kicking forward and darting away, spinning mid dash to throw one more lightsaber slash at Krest's back before preparing to reset for another flurry.
 
Krest let the Force built up in his legs burst. If @[member="Moroi Wareyasui"] was going to roll over, the Zabrak was going to burst underneath. He took two quick steps, loosely gripping his saber with one hand so as not to loose it, but also not get trapped in the lock. His saber arm would fall behind to keep the blade low as he turned, whipping the blue blade around. He was crouched down, the red blade out to the side. Once more he built up the Force, but this time in his empty hand.

The Zabrak kept to the defensive, still only testing the boy. He hadn't broken the rule of standing still just yet, but if Moroi didn't move Krest would.
 

Moroi Wareyasui

Cocky Little Poohead
Moroi felt his offensive systematically evaded and deflected, but he was nothing if not relentless. After he had successfully darted a quick retreat to re-position himself, Moroi turn in the air, his hands skidding lightly along the ground as he caught himself, his back leg extended and his front leg bent in front of him, looking oddly reminiscent of a sprinter. Giving @[member="Krest"] no more than a moment to recognize his posture before he took off, dashing low along the ground, his speed increasing further still as he propelled his body along with The Force. Once he reached his target, Moroi executed a quick rising slash, aiming for Krest's abdomen. After the strike rebounded off whatever it managed to hit, be it Krest or the air, Moroi would kick off the ground, thrusting himself in to the air and executing a flip before bringing his lightsaber down hard toward Krest's head.
 
Krest swung the flat of his saber for @[member="Moroi Wareyasui"] as he charged forward, if only to catch his sabers blade with his one hand. He followed through, his figure spinning as his empty palm came to line up with the boy. Krest watched as he lept, a grin still on the mans face. He let his form drop to the ground so to lay flat and let the boy soar over harmlessly. He let the Force in his palm unleash for the airborne Moroi, wanting to knock the boy aside while he got to his own feet.

Krest rolled to the side after his blast, swinging his feet as to get himself back up. He stood with his feet spread apart, a grin on his face. The boy was learning, and hopefully he'd learn more as the fight went on. To expect what can't be seen.
 

Moroi Wareyasui

Cocky Little Poohead
He didn't exclaim how poodoo like that exchange of events was, but he certainly felt it. He was getting carried away with his movements now, leaving too many openings, and it was starting to show. He soared well over his target, his lightsaber flailing uselessly through the air as @[member="Krest"] ducked under the blade and leveled another one of his concussive blasts at Moroi. That too was getting annoying. As was showcased, Moroi had been able to master self-augmentation with the force, such as acceleration, relatively quickly. He had used Force Speed for the first time the night before and he already looked like he had been using it for years and artfully applying it to combat almost instinctively. For as much prodigious talent he had with abilities such as that, he had that much less talent with externalization of The Force. He had to succeed though, it was his only choice.

Moroi took one hand off the saber and opened his palm before thrusting it at the ground. He hoped he could throw a similar blast that Krest had used to apply enough force in to the ground that the rebounding force would push Moroi up and out of harms way. It would have been a great plan...if it worked. Moroi's streak of failure continued and nothing came from the boys hand, it instead looked like he just miserably flung his arm around for no reason. Before he could adequately curse the failure, the Force Push slammed in to his side, knocking him out of the air and crashing in to the dust bowl. He at least had the presence of mind to withdraw the blade of his lightsaber before he smacked inelegantly in to the ground. The boy dragged himself to his knees, small currents of grains fell from his shoulders as he rose, spitting out a mouthful of sand as he pushed himself to his feet and tried to catch his bearings.
 
Krest kept his distance, watching @[member="Moroi Wareyasui"]. So he wasn't able to use the Force outwardly, that was new. He stood up, his saber retracting. ​"Enough for now. You've shown basic understanding for Ataru. But you are much more under trained in the Force then I had expected."

For now Krest's training was complete. The boy surpassed what he had expected in the sense of using Ataru, but his lack of understanding on how to use the Force outwardly was a hindrance. The more advanced techniques of Ataru needed those abilities. So until the boy learned them, there was nothing more Krest could show him.

"There is a shuttle back to the Jedi leaving soon. You'll be able to head back there and continue your other training. Should you wish to learn more about Ataru feel free to come back to Tatooine. But only when you can project the Force outwardly."
 

Moroi Wareyasui

Cocky Little Poohead
Moroi finished dragging himself to his feet and his eyes flashed dangerously at Krest, full of the defiance that @[member="Krest"] had no doubt become familiar with, but there was something more there as well...anger. It wasn't sure what he was angry at, Krest for not giving him more opportunity to prove himself, himself for being incapable of so simple a maneuver, his masters for not being able to teach him such a simple ability, the list went on and on and it consumed his attention as those dangerous eyes bore in to Krest's. Unbeknownst to Moroi the sand at his feet was no longer standing still. It seemed as if a wind was coming for Moroi's feet, his anger, and was violently blowing the sand away from him, his body looking like it was ready to lash out at any moment.

And then it stopped, as quickly as it started, Krest might even thought he imagined it. The bladed lightsaber in his hand extinguished itself and Moroi's wrist flicked it up in to the air before catching it by the end, extending his arm toward Krest. It was only right that he returned his saber, regardless of how much he preferred it to the crappy substitute the Jedi lent him. The defiance was still in his eyes, but something else, compliance. Moroi wasn't giving up, this only made him more determined. He wasn't just going to return home and learn Ataru, he was going to go home and master it and best Krest. He was more resolute than ever, even if he never returned to Tatooine.

"Fine, here."
 
Krest held up his hand, shaking his head slowly. The blade was no longer of use to him, not with his physical blade and the red one he held currently. It would never be used again if the Zabrak held onto it. So the Zabrak opted to do as was done to him.

"Keep it. It suits you." Krest could feel not only the anger but the determination from the boy. It was a dangerous path for someone who wanted to walk as a Jedi. Krest felt it was his responsibility to help @[member="Moroi Wareyasui"] with it, but he chose not to. Moroi was a Jedi. It would be better if the Jedi handled the problem. The Zabrak moved away, hands behind his head in a customary fashion. He would walk his way back to the city to deal with the crime lords there. Deal with the gangs. Here there was nothing left to do, nothing left to say. Except for one thing.

"If you really feel as if you should give me the blade back, do so when you get stronger." Krest's form rippled with the force before he took off, disappearing from view in almost an instant. The lesson was over. The training was done. Moroi was on his own.
 

Moroi Wareyasui

Cocky Little Poohead
His disappearing act was somewhat annoying, but Moroi's eyes had already drifted down to the strange saber the man had given him, a small smirk coming to his face. Yeah, that was a good symbol to use, he'd hold on to it until he could force it back on Krest. Moroi hooked the lightblade to his belt and slowly turned back to Mos Eisley and on his way to the transport back to Tython. There was a healthy amount here to consider and Moroi had a long flight back home to think about it. He was going to be back one day, either to learn more or return the lightsaber. He was not sure which right now, but it didn't really matter. A soft smile formed on his face at the thought as he entered the shuttle, securely setting himself down in the seat as other passengers filled in around him. Yes, that was a return visit to look forward to.
 

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