Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Private Grip

Location: Little Atrisia tea shop-- Courscant
Tag: Ishida Ashina Ishida Ashina

Sometimes Jem worried she was slipping. She wasn't. It was just a fear in the back of her mind; an itch of the darkness she was learning to live with. Everyone had insecurities, right? She had expected knighthood to fix that, but that had been a load of banta chit. Knighthood had not been a magic pill. Knighthood had changed nothing but the expectation that she start doing chit solo.

That's called trust.

Sometimes she didn't want that trust. Sometimes she wanted to be on Denon, bumping elbows in the thick smog of bacon grease if it just meant she had someone at her back again.

Reaching out was just so hard.

The holo message "Hi." was over due. She reasoned to herself that Ishida would understand. They had never been particularly close, and the space between them had felt more like a respect of her privacy than neglect . That understanding was part of why she like Ishida in the first place. Still, with the attempt floating out in the holosphere a worry intruded upon her thoughts, picking up pace as the cursor blinked at her. ...What if she had delayed a little too long in facing her? What if Ishida was done?

She sat in a bubble of tense vulnerability. And then a message came back.

"Hello."

~~~

Jem wasn't dressed for a tea shop. Dirt-stained jeans and a leathered jacket hardly spoke of class, but it screamed of a familiar slum-fighting investigator with its order patches and embossings. Jem lowered herself uncomfortably at the immaculately set table. "Erm," she squirmed, holding both arms over the place settings. She kept them there, afraid of breaking something as the server tucked her chair in.

"Thank you...?"
 
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Jem Fossk Jem Fossk received no sound in return to her pleasantry. The server, wearing a traditional rich blue robe of silk filled with light stitches that told epic stories along the sleeves and hemlines, only half-bowed and bore a pleasant expression with his silence.

Ishida watched Jem enter the store from her seat across the one Jem had taken. Perfectly delicate and ornate china stretched between them. She gave a small smile to Jem, and then turned it to the server who lingered at the tableside.

Unlike Jem, the Atrisian looked well-suited and well-dressed to be sipping tea in the extremely traditional shoppe. It was a hole in the wall in Coruscant's Little Atrisia. Not colourful and unassuming from the outside but so much like home on the inside that Ishida couldn’t resist it.

Ishida said something in Atrisian to the server, and made a slight gesture over the table.

“Kyusu?”

For Jem’s benefit, and managing some expectations, Ishida slipped back to basic. “Yes, to share, thank you.”

Ishida’s gaze refocused on Jem as the server left and offered an apologetic tilt of her head for perhaps over inserting her opinion and taking over the order. “I think you’ll like it. It’s the best Ocha that can be found outside of Tsuma.”

She hadn’t seen Jem since visiting her at the rehabilitation temple. Much had changed since then. For Ishida, most notably, the duty Sardun left behind for her. She wasn’t wearing the ring now. Without it, she craved it. And it showed up as a darkness beneath her eyes that hadn’t been there before.

“I was surprised to hear from you.”
 
Jem shook her head in wordless dismissal. She was happy to let Ishida deal with... things here. The soft edges were the strangest contrast to the girl's jagged demeanor, and yet somehow she looked natural against the back drop of the elegance fabrics and colors. Jem couldn't be more out of place if she tired.

Jem took a moment to appreciate that this must be like Ishida's home, but it was at that moment that Ishida spoke again. Jem redirected her curiosities down to the plate, her golden complexion shifting from bright bronze to a dull pewter.

"Um," she started, her breath falling heavily through her nose.

Just how many forks did they need for tea? She shifted them around, even through they had already been perfectly spaced, and braced herself for the painful act of honesty.

"Yeah. Well. ... I was embarrassed." She glanced up, then back down at the forks, switching the order they laid in so it went largest to smallest. It felt... uncomfortable to own the emotion, even though she had learned the dangers of holding them in. There was no way to heal past this but honesty and a bit of trust.

The rest was on Ishida. Jem sucked in another breath and met her gaze, heart beat slamming in her ear.

"I didn't know if you still thought of me that way. Which I guess, just kept me a coward in the end." The word stung, but it was the truth.

"...I am sorry, Ishida," she managed to whisper through the tightening of her throat.
 
With a complexion that didn’t betray her secrets, Ishida’s poker face was far stronger than Jem’s. Not a single flinch, twitch, or visible tell was evidenced while Jem stammered through her explanation. An explanation that felt so raw and heavy, that if she dropped it on the table, all the china would shatter.

Ishida’s silence wasn’t born from speechlessness, but reverence for the incredible difficulty that came with vulnerability. Struggling with honesty was another one of those traits the pair mirrored.

“I don't understand why you're apologizing.” Her hand lifted from her lap, palm facing toward the daughter of Fossk. And, because one heartfelt attempt at honesty was enough, Ishida didn't pry into Jem's need to apologize. She simply said it as a statement that dismissed the necessity for any exchange of guilt.

She reflected during the pause on the conversation they’d had while Jem Fossk Jem Fossk built a wall for the temple. She’d been so desperate for Dagon’s approval that she’d been blinded to her own capabilities. Ishida might have been a little harsh, trapped in her own grieving process for losing her own master. But harsh as she’d been, she couldn’t see herself approaching the conversation any other way.

“So, have you done it?”

At that moment, the server reappeared with a tray. The teapot was smooth, with dark brushstrokes of some sort of bird. He set down two handleless cups before the girls, and poured each their own amount before setting the pot between them. He bowed to excuse himself and shuffled back away.

Green and hot, the tea smelled like a fresh mix of grass, mint and jasmine.

“Become something new?”
 
Emotions rushed off of her in a wave of heat, her palms sweaty and fingers flighty as Ishida forgave her in the subtle way Jem had missed. Her eyes misted with poignant relief that she barely managed to clamp onto. If she thought falling in front of Ishida was embarrassing, just wait till she was caught crying.

She cleared her throat and let the server deliver their drinks, the timely interruption allowing her hue to regain its luster.

"So have you done it?"

Her brows pulled in in palpable confusion.

"Become something new?"

Jem blinked, then broke out into shy smile of understanding. "I... I haven't thought about that." She admitted, working against the uncomfortable desire to leave the events unspoken in the past. It was hard to think of those days, but being able to do that here across from Ishida with a Knight patch on her jacket...

It brought some perspective to it all. "...Yeah. ... Yeah, I guess so." The smile grew until it reached her eyes. The room felt particularly light in that moment. The music was inspiring, the light was twinking, and the tea-- she sputtered her first sip back into the cup, the chinaware clattering.

"What in the bantha," she accused, her eyes watering. "You feeding me dirt?"
 
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Realization seemed to swell around Jem. Her skin seemed to warm, and her posture seemed to straighten.

Suddenly, with a sputter, it all changed.

It was only a minor offense, if that, but Ishida felt herself stiffen. Mostly at the sheer unpredictability of the apparent, absolute disgust for the tea.

“N-no.” Ishida’s countenance betrayed her, finally, and she might have looked perplexed. “Let it sit another minute. Usually there’s a two-sip rule..”

She frowned, and looked down at her own untouched cup. Emerald steaming water looked back at her. Perhaps it was a little strong. Especially if Jem Fossk Jem Fossk wasn’t normally a tea drinker.

Ishida frowned.

And, like Jem, Ishida was working on a few ways to be more...approachable and understanding. Part of that was trying to understand the other person's perspective.

“What don’t you like about it?”
 
Jem crinkled her nose and placed it down, two moments from answering that question very honestly-- but a glance up made her hold her tongue. This place was indoubtly Ishida's home, or something akin to it.

Jem let out a breath and tried to filter her usually abrasive deliveries.

"...I thought it would be sweet." She twisted it twice in her saucer, light green liquid pooling at it base, then left it to sit for another minute (or ten.) "S'no Hutta burger," she mused, looking around the delicate space. Her gaze landed like a rock on Ishida as she cracked into a rather prying question. "... Have you been home recently?"

But the answer would speak volumes.
 
"Ah-ha," Ishida surprised herself with a chuckle at Jem Fossk Jem Fossk 's unmet expectations. "Then no. You're not going to like this even after a few minutes." Ocha would never be sweet — at best, it was less grass tasting the longer it sat, and the mint would come more pronounced. But never sweet. "Perhaps another flavour."

Hutta burger? Ishida physically recoiled, as if the word of that fast food chain carried with it an obnoxiously greasy smell. Her reaction to the burger joint was not unlike Jem's to the tea.

"No, it's..not." Prepared to compare menus, Ishida was nigh-blindsided when Jem Fossk Jem Fossk lay down a surprisingly heavy question. Five words, one of them exceptionally heavy.

Home.

She'd been to Atrisia, briefly, alongside her brother — but not to Hebo proper. Not to her childhood home where her father still domineered. Not yet.

"Dark Siders can't be left to cause more pain and misery. We're responsible for the darkness we fail to prevent, too."

"I have not." Because if she went home..it was her responsibility to see an end to her father. Or give him the opportunity to repent. And for that...she would have to..

She took a sip of her tea and let it sit on her tongue before she finished her response.

"I don't feel ready to go home."
 
"...I get that," Jem admitted, reading the tension between the words unsaid. Jem had left a lot of responsibilities to simmer. This friendship had been one that she hadn't been ready for until today. She could understand, perhaps better than most, how hard it could be to step up and face a father above all. There was nothing reassuring she could say.

What Ishida had to shoulder wasn't easy.

She tried to give the tea a second shot but just ended up hiding the grimace in her cup. "Another flavor then," she agreed, pushing the china entirely away. The waiter stepped forward at her noticeable rejection, concern marring the smooth plans of his face.

"Something sweet," she annunciated, in the only language she knew. A thousand cultures lived on Coruscant and Jem had never taken the moment to reflect that she belonged to none of them. Something told her that should bother her.

She flailed to see why.

"We've been here for so long. ... It's kind of like home," she offered pointedly. It seemed unlikely that Ishida could just turn her back and forget her father's shortcomings, but Jem understood the importance of feeling like you had a choice.

Her manners, however, remained as dull as a butter knife. The waiter blinked twice at the order and looked to Ishida for some proper decorum and direction.
 
Jem Fossk Jem Fossk was perhaps the only other person in the galaxy, other than Ishida's brother, that could say they understood the weight behind her hesitation. Still, it had felt shameful to admit.

Thankfully, Jem gave her something else to react to, and Ishida smiled subtly at the other young woman's continued intolerance for the national favourite.

"My brother recently said he discovered home is not a place. It's more than that. People, feeling, it's hard to grasp, but the idea of it is pleasant."
Ishida wasn't sure if she liked the idea so much because if redefined the chains she felt bound by, or because it eliminated the chains altogether. Something she still had yet to discover.

After half a beat, letting the idea settle, Ishida rose to the waiter's request, though she wanted to spend more time with what Jem had aid just before. Her tongue slipped into the waiter's preferred, and she gestured briefly at the pot, then the smaller cup. They made a sound that was at the intersection of understanding and a grunt, before glancing at Jem and disappearing as quietly as they'd arrived.

"It's nice to hear you say that, though." The girl admitted, and took a sip of her tea. And enjoyed it. "Does that mean you feel as though you belong now? Not just because of duration..."
 
Jem sighed heavily at the question, her cheeks puffing at the reminder. Her place in the order had been on her mind for a while now. Despite all her progress she once again felt lost, like she was floating through space without gravity to guide her.

Jem apparently wasn't half as good at being a loner as she thought.

"It's different now that I'm a knight. Before there was structure and... people... " Who would have thought she'd miss seeing Corin Trenor Corin Trenor 's face around-- Or at least having an arm to punch. Their little crew wasn't perfect, but they knew each other, perhaps better than anyone had ever known her before. There was something about it that made working together feel good .

"It's hard to find that out here. ... ... Or maybe I'm just a 'itch," she added, with the crack of a grin. She glanced up, the twinkle in her eye lightening the heaviness of the confession. There had been too much of that for her liking already.

She deflected the moment without any tact.

"What about you? What are you doing now a days? -- A knight too, I'd bet. Unless your master has been hit in the head with a sith ship."
 
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There was nothing Jem said that Ishida could disagree with. The structure, the patience, the general level of welcome that came with being a Padawan disappeared once one was a Knight. What had been acceptance, was replaced with expectation. What had been a learning opportunity, was replaced with disdain. And with no Master left to shoulder the complaints of her behaviour, it turned into isolation.

"It's hard to find that out here. ... ... Or maybe I'm just a 'itch,"

"You and me both." Ishida took a sip of her tea.

Jem had a ceremony. It had been official. Ishida'd heard about it, but hadn't been able to attend. With all that fanfare and structure, there was a certain expectation that the brunette across from her had made it. But her words suggested otherwise. Ishida frowned, almost apologetically, at the realization.

"What about you? What are you doing now a days? -- A knight too, I'd bet. Unless your master has been hit in the head with a sith ship."

Ishida winced. Usually, she tried to conceal her tells more actively, but this one slipped out. The only mercy she might have had was the well-timed reappearance of the server cradling a teacup which he set before Jem Fossk Jem Fossk . With a half-bow, he left it to her, but held up three fingers before he turned away, indicating that she should wait three minutes before taking a sip.

Michael Sardun Michael Sardun hadn't been hit in the head with a ship, but he'd died on one. Transferring his essence to Ishida on Tython in order to save her. At the thought, Ishida shuddered, shoved her hands into her lap, and wrung the folds of her tunic together as an anxious fidget.

"Yes," she exhaled with downcast eyes, unable to look at anything but the table setting as she slowly materialized the words on her tongue. "He knighted me post-mortum." She'd spoken about this with...few. The response, each time, was hurtful. Sardun hadn't left a great impression among the Jedi, but he was still the greatest father-figure she'd ever had.

Jem hadn't asked for the detail, but Ishida felt the need to open herself up anyway. Mostly because she wanted to, mostly because it hurt not to. People needed to know the side of Sardun that she had.

And she...sort of...owed Jem an apology as well.

"He sacrificed himself to save me on Tython."

Deeply, she frowned, and shoved into her chair. As if she could worm a distance away from the table and her companion.

"I think..that made me harsher about your attachment to Dagon than I should have been."

Unlike Jem, Ishida had not gone through months and months of therapy. And that was as close to an apology as she'd come in a long time.

Slowly, so slowly, she looked up from the tablecloth and back to meet Jem's expression. Under the table, her toe rubbed against her ankle nervously.
 
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Jem's tea cup clattered back into its saucer.

She listened to Ishida's explanation with eyes that were a little too wide. They were filled with concern, not pity, as she mentally tracked back the months this would have occurred.

At temple... at the trial... Ishida had been suffering in isolation that Jem had not broken. Guilt twisted her insides. Corin did always say everything had been about her...

Her chin shook in sharp dismissal over Ishida's words. "I was a brat. And not only one suffering-- Ishida, I--" The breath left her lungs. How could words ever mend something like this? "You shouldn't have gone through that alone."
 
A cup clattering to its saucer was the loudest thing the shop had heard in months. The staff tried not to react, but they flashed a look. Ishida just looked down.

Tython had been horrible. She'd lost Sardun, and almost lost Bernard. And when Bernard had stabilized, he'd nothing to say for her lost master along the lines of condolences.

"Shouldn't have, maybe, but did, definitely —" she drew in a breath. Maybe she hadn't been alone. She'd had Vilchis Vilchis ...

..Sort of.

She was kind of a crank. And had levied more expectations than Sardun ever had.

"It's good to test your own resilience now and then."

This was too much, and Ishida placed her ankles back side by side, untangling her discomfort with proper posture once again. She poked her chin forward at the cup Jem Fossk Jem Fossk had almost dropped.

"Is that better?"
 
Yes, she could feel it. That was enough of that for them today.

Jem let the distraction slide with the tilt of her chin, though strangely she felt the urge to reach out and... touch. A simple hand over a hand-- She had spent too much time spent with Zeltrons and over-mothery masters. She felt her fingers move with robotic precision and gripped the slender tea cup. The thin porcelain burned her fingers as she ignored the handle and took a weary sip.

"... Huh," she said, the fruity notes hidden under a mountain of water. It was no slurpy, but it wasn't dirt either. "Yes. I like it." The exaggeration was spared for Ishida's expense. It was as close to pity as she would get. Or perhaps that was just kindness.

Jem blew on the tea to push the thought away.

"Next time, I'm going to pick the place though." She sipped, then paused and added with a subtle grin, "Huttaburger's good."
 
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For a long time, Ishida had been an advocate of action over articulation. Jem's hand on hers was startling, but steadying. At first, every muscle in Ishida's body tensed, but after a flash of a look up at the warmth in the other Knight's face, and the regulated shimmer of her skin, she felt her reservations slide away. She didn't squeeze back, but kept her hand where Jem could touch it. She did not withdraw it. She settled into it.

Thankfully, it didn't last long. The cues the pair shared were well respected and read, and Ishida felt gratitude bloom when Jem Fossk Jem Fossk spoke of the tea she sipped. And how improved it was to her last attempt.

"I understand," Ishida remarked, and smiled at the subtle invitation for another session among them. Last time, they hadn't the space to explore a friendship. Perhaps with the room for growth, and the independence of knighthood...they could.

"Huttaburger's good."

..Or not.

Ishida's expression darkened, confounded by the suggestion.

"Really?" She gaped, and took a sip of her tea to mask any further tell of an expression.
 
Jem chortled right into her tea cup. "What's wrong with Huttaburger?" She pried back. It was at that moment their food was delivered-- little crustless sandwiches atop a danty 3 tiered tray. It barely looked like enough for one person, never mind two. Jem looked disappointed for exactly three seconds, and then she realized the answer to her own question.

"Force," she laughed, picking one up between two pinched fingers. "Do you always eat like this? How the feth can I wail on you like that and you not shatter like porcelain?" The brashness of her words was match by the warm glow of her skin-- like two siblings picking at each other.

Jem was entirely amused.
 
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Ishida took the time to nod her thanks to the waiter, who disappeared again. A few more patrons were busy finding tables, and occupied his attention so he didn't linger so long this time.

"I'd rather shatter from external blows than internal ones." Ishida sniffed indignantly at Jem Fossk Jem Fossk "Greasy fast food like Huttaburger," even the word made her shiver, and she reached for a small delicacy on the lower plate. Raw wrapped fish. "Will deconstruct you from the inside."

It was hard to find someone who made fish the same way Atrisia handled it. It was usually too chewy.

"At least this has nutrition." She took a bite, chewed thoughtfully, and finished it with a second bite.

"And," she reached for another and kept her voice low. "Master Sardun's sacrifice was more generous than I initially understood — he left me much in the wake of his.." she couldn't say sacrifice again. Some days, it still felt like she'd murdered her master (mostly the days that Vilchis Vilchis was around). Instead, she let the sound of the food dropping on her plate fill the space where the word should have been.

"Things that make me physically stronger, so," the eerily thin creep of her smile, oddly mirthful, returned to her face and she tilted her head at Jem, and tapped her fingers together. "Unshatterable."
 
Jem crinkled her nose as Ishida nibbled on the fish. Was that even sanitary? She doubted it. Further comments were offset by the mischievous turn of Ishida's words. Jem's attention turned from the fish bite to the woman herself.

She raised a brow and leaned forward, her skin flickering with sparks of weary curiosity. "Is that so?"

She noted quickly that nothing around them was off. No sibling, no peers, no possible events that she could be conned into attending. With everything obvious off the table, only one option came to mind.

"You're not into spices now, are you?"

Denon had been such a good influence on her.
 

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