I, the Jury

[Keira Priest]

Music

It had been a few weeks since Keira had been on Voss. Long enough, at least, for her to forget the peace that being on such a naturally serene world brought her. It was easy to forget her troubles when surrounded by the flora and fauna that covered the planet. The sheer wildness that encompassed the entirety of it was enough to make her forget, and the brimming Force energy that sent a hum through every nerve ending only increased the sensation. Every being was at peace, living their own life, as things should have been from the beginning, and as they were now. It was strange for her to feel so completely at ease with her surroundings, but it was a feeling that she welcomed with open arms. If this was what it meant to be a Jedi, then she could perhaps learn to adapt.

The first few hours of her time there had been spent simply wandering the wilds, losing herself in the vastly wooded areas of the planet and simply breathing in the life that surrounded her. For one who didn't believe at all in any sort of peace or tranquility, she could say for certain that this was the closest she had come to just that. To be allowed the freedom to come and go as she wished and step wherever she desired was in some ways a new opportunity altogether. After having spent time as a slave both metaphorically and literally she was keen to take full advantage of this newfound independence, exploring wherever and whenever she could. It was a new pastime of hers to do so, a habit that had been refined through odd visits. Now she knew parts of the planet just as well as the back of her hand, and was on her way to discovering others.

What brought her here originally had been idle thoughts and spare time, and a willingness on top of that for her to seek out and speak with [member="Connor Harrison"], the only member of the Order here that she could stand by in solidarity. The rest of them were strangers at best, many of them not trusting her half as well, not that she couldn't extend those same sentiments. In her time on-planet she resided in a spare quarters near Connor's own, but most of her time was spent out of the Temple proper and off the grounds that surrounded it entirely. It always felt too closed there, too confined, and it was a pressure she wanted to avoid if at all possible. In the wilderness was another matter, and she had found a second home of sorts among the other creatures that inhabited the planet.

In nearing the grounds again a familiar presence had vied for her attention, but there was a deeper, more volatile darkness to it that she couldn't place. In a way it resembled the acidic toxicity that had encompassed her aura when she resided within the darkness, though there was a lighter undertone that spoke of mostly good intentions. Because of that iota of purity that remained she could glean that this was one recently fallen and still in a manner uncertain of the new power that the dark granted them. They were still growing into this new ability and corruption both, perhaps not quite grasping the inherent dangers of treading the line so closely. It was that line she would take great care to remind them of, because this was someone she knew almost as well as herself. Connor.

Her stride became more purposeful, cybernetic fingers brushing across the saber hilt at her waist, it a fleeting motion. She found him in an open field near enough the Temple that the edifice was visible in the distance, but far enough that any commotion wouldn't be immediately registered, if it was at all. No doubt he had come here to isolate himself from the others, an action she had taken when overcome by her own inner darkness. It was a new kind of frustration, witnessing this side of herself mirrored in him. There was no use in hiding her approach, and so she didn't make any sort of attempt to do so, allowing him to both hear and sense her completely. Her aura was defiantly and even proudly unaligned, toeing the line between light and dark with a rebellious nature not unlike her own personality.

When they were within meters of each other all progress halted, and she merely took him in for all that he was. He was beginning to grow into a shell of who she had once known, not that they had been explicitly close beforehand. The corners of her mouth tightened, brow furrowing slightly not in confusion, but in some semblance of hurt that quickly smoothed itself over to a detached sort of apathy, at least on the surface. Her head inclined slightly in greeting, but no words were put forth to properly solidify her acknowledgement of his presence here. She was still trying to rationalize his apparent fall. After the lectures he had given her in the years previous of avoiding the dark it seemed he had finally succumbed to that ever present shadow hanging over her shoulder. Instead of greeting him properly she released a burst of the Force that echoed like a gunshot, intended to throw him backwards. "You fething hypocrite."

 

[Connor Harrison]

It was in the same stretch of warm copper and lush green grass, both dry and damp, away form the trees and waterfall, where it happened.

Connor had admitted himself to embrace the path of the Light and Dark for one greater good. To become a Sith? No - he would never kneel as a Sith. But to use the Dark Side as a weapon just as much as the Light Side was something he would do to get the job done. The Force was a tool to build and enhance a warrior, and he had to use that tool effectively and better than most others. He wasn't scared about doing it, and those who understood him would pose no problem. Those who did, however, would face his wrath if tested.

Was he a villain? Of course not. He was the expendable hero nobody had the courage, or foolishness, to become.

Standing a few yards from where the two broken Jedi had shared their rendezvous weeks before, Connor felt Keira coming over. It had been a while since they had seen each other, but duty had to come first at times and now he was back and planning where to go from here. He felt her angst coming towards him, and he opened his eyes and turned around to see her stomping towards him.

Connor took a sharp breath - either she was having one of her "bad days" or she had been annoyed by someone and needed to vent. He was about to speak when he saw the Force-emitted shockwave ripple the grass towards him and knocked him back a couple of steps, and then her blunt snap.

He should have expected this. Connor held his hand out as if to wave her down from this anger she was riding.

"Watch your mouth - calm down. What's wrong with you?"

They understood each other more than most, but it seemed she still had a chip on her shoulder when it came to Connor.

[member="Keira Ticon"]

 

[Keira Priest]

So much music

There was a time in the not too distant past when Keira would have foregone words entirely and instead resorted instantly to violence. Right at that moment reverting back to old habits didn't seem like too terrible of an idea, but she knew better than to willingly surrender herself to the darkness which still persistently clung to the edges of her subconscious, resemblant of a malevolent shadow. Rational thought was oftentimes the wisest choice, especially given that she had no desire to fray or otherwise snap the bond that had secured itself between them. This was just about sussing out the specific facets of it that raised issue. None had thought to mention that her method of bringing things to light needed a bit of work. That was made rather obvious simply by the way she had chosen to instigate this conversation.

A beat passed, then two, before she spoke. "You know." Those two words were almost accusatory in their phrasing, and what she was referencing should have been clear. She was still riding out the shockwaves of this discovery, thousands of thoughts processing in mere seconds as she watched him carefully. "I'm not going to tell you, because you're perfectly aware of what it is." And if he was truly ignorant then she would be sure to enlighten him in the coming moments. After having not only experienced but openly embraced the corruption that the Dark Side brought on she was loathe to witness another do the same, even if their intent was arguably noble. There were certain people she flat out refused to lose in her life, and he was one of them, whether he liked it or not. "But you are going to listen to me."

The calm she was possessed of was a dangerous sort, one that had the potential to explode into violence at any moment should a wrong move be made or perceived by either party. In some sense she was momentarily returning to the personality that had encompassed her being when she still called herself a darksider. Hopefully he was wise enough to know what not to say. Nothing, however, was ever guaranteed, least of all when it came to people like them. "You've turned, but you haven't fallen yet. And you're going to tell me why, Connor." There was always a reason, whether immediately noticeable or not, when it came to most any action. Without a motivator it would be pointless, and if he was as identical to her as the past had proven then he certainly had his own. "I know this isn't a decision someone just wakes up and decides. You have your reasons, I'm sure, just like I had mine. But that doesn't make this right. Because soon enough, everyone falls." It was only a matter of time.

Slowly she moved about him in a wide arc. More and more this was beginning to resemble their few violent encounters in the past, more specifically the conflict that had taken place on Ziost before her eventual redemption. This one had the same capacity to go either way, turning each participant in a direction that would help to decide their fate. "The only reason I'm bringing this up is because I don't want you to turn out like me. Broken and cracked with no idea of where to go or who to trust, confused about who you see when you look in the mirror until eventually you do your best to ignore your own existence. That isn't what i want for you." Which, of course, brought to mind what it was that she did want, while that final sentence was one that had only chanced to pass her lips only one other time in a similar scenario.

"I know you think you're fine, and you are, for now. But it won't stay that way. It's going to start bringing back those flaws you thought you buried and begin maximizing them to a degree that was never present before. All of the pain that was inflicted on you, either by yourself or others, will come back tenfold. You'll forget what it means to care about most anything, and emotions will become a sort of abstract concept that you don't bother yourself with any longer. Soon enough you'll begin fracturing mentally, relying only on yourself and continuing to remain isolated. You might think you'd notice all of this, but it comes on so slowly that it isn't visible until it's too late. And you'll feel fine, because that's what the corruption will tell you. Deep down inside you'll know something is wrong, but you won't want to fix it. Because in certain angles even demons can be saints."

[member="Connor Harrison"]

 

[Connor Harrison]

So she had felt it. That was annoying for the wrong reason to Connor as he listened to her talk. Why had she been the one to confront him? Why her? Why wasn’t Thurion doing this, or Coci? They were the ones running this show, and wasn’t it their duty to see those beneath them stay safe and well? Yes relationships had been rocky, but Connor had opened a flood-gate in himself to embrace both Light and Dark – one unified Force – to get the job done. To do whatever had to be done in order to repel those eating away at the fragile peace of the galaxy.

Instead, he had been involved in numerous expeditions since, spent time alone in the Isolated Gardens, disappeared to Jakku without anyone noticing and now, weeks later, a Dark Jedi walking the line between good and evil was confronting him about things.

Something wasn’t right in the world.

Turning on his heel slowly to watch the predatory Keira speak, what he admitted was heartfelt and true for some cases; she was assuming he was like her and every other. He had made his choice out of nothing but his own views and morals – nobody had tortured him, stripped his armour or beaten sense out of him.

"Alright, Keira, listen."

He’d seen holovids of people doing this to Nexu in arenas – talking down a beast that could pounce on them without warning, and trusting their confidence and trust to bridge understanding between man and beast; between Connor and Keira.

He knew what she was capable of. The firecracker was fizzling. He slowly walked up to her, holding his arms out.

"You know me. I know you. I have never said I’m perfect and you know that. My sole aim to help you was to ensure you didn’t become an agent of the Sith and I still will make sure you don’t."

Never breaking eye contract, he stood before her and reached up with his hand and stroked her neck, placing his hand behind her head and holding her gently to ensure she felt his sincerity.

"I can’t deny this calling anymore, but I am not going to become the very thing I swore I’d destroy. You know our kind –we can’t lie to ourselves but we must be able to embrace who we are inside and show them we are not weak! We are not wrong in what we do. I see that."

He stopped for a moment, looking at her, not wavering.

"I need to be me, and I can’t pretend anymore. I have nothing and nobody to harm in this journey except myself, so there is no hurt to give anyone. Stand with me. Please. As I would stand by you."

[member="Keira Ticon"]

 

[Keira Priest]

There was a second where her posture stiffened upon his gentle touch, awareness heightening as she became increasingly conscious of every sensation that pervaded her senses. An irony was present here to those willing to see it. Taking a hit was nothing new, and Keira had suffered any and all amounts of pain in her life. But the moment someone was careful about her she was given pause, unsure of how to continue or what manner was appropriate to process the occurrence. One part of her wanted to shy away but the other willed her to remain at ease. He was only trying to help, and she had no reason to fear the one that had made it his own personal mission to help her decipher her own thoughts and determine just what side of the line she stood on. This was the kindest anyone had been in relation to her in a long time, and she appreciated it more than anything.

Upon her next exhale she relaxed, head leaning forward to rest gently on his shoulder as she considered her next move. This was without a doubt the most physically intimate she had been with another in a long time, and it felt nice to simply allow someone in, even if it was for just a brief moment or two. Perhaps this was what she had needed from the beginning, a chance to release her tension and be genuinely herself around someone. There was still a tension there, but it was present at levels far more manageable. Now at least she could breathe easier. “Just promise me.” Her voice was low, muffled slightly due to her current position. “Promise me that you won’t let that happen to you. I’ve lost enough people in my life before. You don’t need to be one of them. I won’t let you be.” This time she would take action for herself rather than waiting for the situation to remedy.

Slowly she drew away from him, the faint smile on her lips a sign of the goodwill that still bridged between them. Even that faded, leaving her expression at neutrality once more. A misunderstanding had been avoided, that fray mended, but she wasn’t entirely at ease just yet. “I will stand with you. You’re the only one of them that can pull something like this without royally karking it all up.” Not many could use the dark and light in tandem without completely turning to either, and there were thousands of methods to do just that. He had chosen one that differed from her own, but it was still wholly functioning. “And you’re not wrong. You make more sense than anyone else does. The only way someone can be whole is by embracing all sides of the Force. You just can’t let any overpower you. Because the second you become some dogmatic Jedi or bloodthirsty Sith we’re going to have a problem.” Her smile was crooked, almost secretive in nature.

A careful thoughtfulness overtook her features, and she studied him more comprehensively through the ethereal for a few long minutes, feeling for any anomalies in the change that had been made to his aura. “But you’re going to need to learn to control the Dark Side. They spend so much time preaching against it that nobody learns how to utilize it properly. However, when I say ‘control’ I don’t mean exert power over, because unlike the light the dark isn’t quite so easily tamed. Rather you have to learn how to manipulate it to your will. There won’t be any mastering this facet of the Force, because it won’t allow itself to be dominated. It requires give and take. But not so much take that you lose yourself in the process.” Her tone had taken on an almost scholarly edge, and she spoke from a well of knowledge not often drawn upon. It was knowledge he would need to be privy to, if he wished to do this correctly.

“There are certain abilities you might find useful in order to strengthen yourself. But first you’ll want to learn how to fight without letting this new side of yourself completely overtake all rational thought. One of the reasons I have so many scars is because I’ve let my will to fight speak for me rather than thinking things through. And don’t worry, it will happen to you. Hopefully not too much.” Of course, all of her teaching could have very well been useless, and he could have heard all of this from another already. However, such a potent drug required a strong learning curve. And she wanted to be a part of it. “I know the Jedi that you’re so close to would have different ways of going about things.” That was a thinly veiled jab by itself, if interpreted a certain way. “But we aren’t so clean cut.” She stood mere feet away, watching him impassively. “Attack me. Don’t hold back. I want to see if you’ve learned anything useful.”

[member="Connor Harrison"]

 

[Connor Harrison]

Not knowing what to think anymore, Connor rubbed the back of her head gently, hair entwining with his fingers and let her enjoy a physical support that, if she were like him, would make her feel safe and secure.

"It's alright. It'll be ok. I'm not going anywhere, I'm just seeing if I can make a difference."

As she pulled back and spoke, he had never felt so much compassion from here, so much worry. He must have really hit a nerve on Ziost.

"I don't want to be a monster, Keira. Well, maybe a little if it means I can fight monsters, but I don't want to lose my humanity because of the Force. It's not worth the sacrifice and when I feel myself losing to it, I will back away."

He didn't move as she stood and invited him to attack. He really wasn't sure what to do, or what to make of the situation. He was fragile enough but determined not to let anyone knock him down, and nobody else seemed to understand what he was trying to do except Keira. And now, she wanted to teach him not to drown in his own ability? With an open attack?

Gently, he shifted and swallowed.

"I...I can't. I don't know, ah...I don't know what happens if I don't hold back and I don't want to hurt you. Or kill you."

His eyes showed hesitation and uncertainty.

[member="Keira Ticon"]

 

[Keira Priest]

"Of all the karking--" No, stop, start over. It would do no good to lash out, verbally or otherwise. This type of scenario required a different touch than her usual blunt nature if it was to be remedied and smoothed over correctly. As much as Keira wanted to goad and push him into attacking to truly test his limits, he would have to enter this fight of his own accord. It only seemed ironic that he would choose to hold back now, after the two had faced each other on the field of battle and survived the ordeal relatively unscathed. Now he wanted to play the proper Jedi and gentleman both, after nearly killing her before. Someone really needed to set him straight when it came to that, and it may as well have been her. Nobody else would do it quite right, and he needed to hear the words from her own mouth if anything was to get through his head.

Taking a measured breath she exhaled slowly, forcing herself to calm and counting backwards from ten mentally. That was better. Now maybe she could handle things a little better. "Listen, I know you're scared of what you're capable of now, or maybe you were before this. But now isn't the time to play coy with me." Well, there never really was a proper time to do so, arguably. "I've fought you before, and I've seen what you can do when you don't hold back. Quite frankly, compared to some others that I've faced, I was disappointed. You hold back too much, like you're afraid of stepping out of line, and yet you claim that you're different than the rest of them in that respect. So far I don't really see it." And maybe she never really would, given how abstract and unorthodox her view of the world was when compared to most others. But she would at the very least try.

This was the most careful she had ever been with another, including her own student. For some reason he warranted a special care she wouldn't grant most others, likely because she would have willed much of the same for her younger self when she still harbored that same uncertainty. Now she was far gone enough to have nearly forgotten what any sort of insecurity felt like. But she had to be mindful of others who were still restrained by their own better judgement and a conscience she often doubted herself to still be on possession of. Because some people were still largely concerned with what was morally right even when they were on one side of the spectrum or the other already. It was much easier to simply forgo such thought altogether, but she wouldn't dissuade him from what made him comfortable. Or at least not too openly.

At the end of the day all she could really do was laugh at the absurdity of this entire situation, and that she did for a short few seconds. Eventually her composure returned to some degree, and she returned to studying him carefully. The line between causing him to crack and keeping him secure would have to be tread carefully, but she wasn't overly concerned about her own personal safety. Any injury could be remedied eventually, and if anyone asked she would brush it off as being her fault. No need for him to get more grief for this change than he was already likely receiving from the others. She had promised to support him, and she meant it. But sometimes support took the form of breaking another down in order to reshape them into something better and stronger. A task she wasn't quite sure how to accomplish with this one. After all, he'd been broken before.

"If I promise you that I won't let myself get killed will you shut up and make your move already?" That had been more of a snap than she had intended, but sometimes she needed to be blunt before the kinder words were able to surface. "I know what you're feeling, and I mean that honestly, Connor. Once upon a time I was the same way. I was afraid of my new power because of what I'd been taught about it being inherently evil and bringing only harm to others. But then I learned through this path that any side of the Force can be used for good with the right mindset, and eventually I stopped caring." And she had never really started doing so again. "It's going to be scary the first few times, but you'll learn to enjoy it. This is just a bump in the road on the way to getting there. Now stop standing around and start fighting." Motivation at its finest.

[member="Connor Harrison"]

 

[Connor Harrison]

How he hated being lectured to – her voice was starting to grate on him. Connor was the perfect Janus; two faces, two personalities. Moments ago he was ready to care and confide in her, and seconds later he was irritated by her patronising which she did so well. The truth of it was, he was embarrassed by his own lack of confidence in confrontation and engagement. Give him an enemy and he would take to them with no regards to his own safety; his body proved that.

But something was lacking – he wasn’t the greatest at saber play, that was evident in the fact he had always come off worse against Sith. Xiangu. Bane. Arcanix. All had left imprints on his body and mind that had stayed with him even now, while all they had was a bump and a bruise. How he wish he could kill one of them – kill somebody! To feel the way it felt to take a life of one who feels invincible and untouchable.

The fingers on his fists tightened the more she spoke down to him. He hated that laugh and his skin crawled the more she went on. The mist was coming down and inside his muscles were tense, coiled waiting to be unleashed.

His style was probably clumsy compared to most, but he fought with power and determination. He had a number of Force abilities he had touched upon, but at the end of the day...he was a coward. Nobody feared or respected him – they just laughed behind his back and rolled their eyes at his struggles. Connor Harrison was a pathetic excuse for a human, let alone a Jedi, or whatever the hell he claimed to be.

"Shut your…mouth."

Connor shook his head, trying to stop the negative thoughts and the annoyance brewing suddenly with her going on and on and on. He hated this. He HATED it. Two hard breathes through his nose sounded the animal inside him, and he looked up at the girl who talked to much as if she was one of those invincible ones he would enjoy killing to prove a point.

"Fight? Fine."

He unhooked his saber and in a stubborn rush of hate he threw it to the grass and ran towards her, turning to side-step in like a cage fighter would do and went to do what he enjoyed most – feeling the impact of his fists into the enemy, and he went to hit her hard in the abdomen with two…three….four strikes. She wasn’t a girl; she was an annoyance, and she was one of them who thought they were better than he. He wanted her to bleed, to scream, to be in pain and he in turn wanted to feel pain to feel even stronger and resilient against anything. He had to kill her to show he could be the best. She was nought but a broken bug.

Connor began to unfurl.

[member="Keira Ticon"]

 

[Keira Priest]

In the seconds before he struck the darkness welled up inside him in one hate-filled surge of strength. It was an adrenaline rush Keira knew all too well, a well of power she hadn’t drawn upon in the weeks after Ziost. To fall back into old habits now would only be a release, but she forced herself back into the present moment. It would do no good to dwell on what could be, and instead she needed to focus on what had to be, for the good of them both. And right now what that meant was pushing back just as hard as he, not giving any quarter no matter how much of herself she saw reflected in his brash and nigh thoughtless actions. It was for his own good just as much as hers, this fight providing its own sort of cathartic relief even in the beginning stages. Maybe this was what each of them had needed all along. Perhaps all of their butting heads had built up to this moment.

Each move made on her part was deft, with no wasted energy or momentum. It began with her dodging his punches by simply moving back and to the side as was necessary. The final strike caught her in the side and nearly knocked her off her feet, but she managed to remain standing, slowly regaining what breath had been lost. For an opening bout it wasn’t progressing too badly, but there was still something here missing that wasn’t entirely explainable. There was no doubt that he attacked swiftly and with ferocity, though any focus was lacking. He had no set goal in mind beyond bringing her down, no strategy to accomplish even that. Much like she had been he was all but aimless, the dark within him blotting out any thought other than his own retribution against her. Predictable, and what she had anticipated in the first place. But the goal here was to conquer and prevent such a thing from transpiring in the first place. Work that would come later, it seemed.

“Not bad at all.” Nearly identical blue eyes stared into each other. “But you’re clumsy and unfocused. You’re letting your anger dictate every move. Not a bad idea, but it lacks refinement. If you’re going to draw on your emotion they need to be of the purer sort. A streamlined flow instead of a tidal wave.” Here was the problem with the Jedi exemplified in one individual, as far as she was concerned. None of them were taught how to feel their emotions properly, and so when the time came they were trembling and uncertain of just how to go about things. And when things such as this occurred each one of them was woefully unprepared to wrestle with the consequences. None of them but her, it seemed. At least she had experience in similar scenarios. Combating Dark Jedi was nothing new, nor was her opponent not being possessed of entirely rational thought. All in all, this was just another day in many respects. It was who she faced that changed things.

The hilt of his blade flew into her outstretched hand, and she turned the weapon over in her grasp once as if testing the balance. It was a well-built saber, but not much different had been expected. The only issue she held with it was the fact that he discarded it rather than taking it for himself. This was the so-called weapon of the Jedi, after all. How ironic that neither of them were really the traditional warriors of light, at this point. “Do you charge into every fight so recklessly? I know this is new to you, but stop and think.” Of course, that piece of advice would probably only upset him more. Oh well. Everyone had to start somewhere. “If you’re going to come close to winning you have to use every tool at your disposal. And this is one of those that’s there for a reason. So try not to act like a complete imbecile and use it.” With that she gave an underhanded toss, sending the hilt flying through the air towards him.

Without waiting for him to either catch the weapon or form up any sort of defense she ignited her own orange blade and sent it flying towards him. Just before it could make contact she pulled it back in a tight arc, worn leather snapping into her palm. A beat of tense silence passed as she drew on the ethereal, pulling a mass of energy into her core and releasing it in a repulse that hurled outwards from her form in all directions. Telekinetic attacks of that scale weren’t something attempted often regardless of her skill level, and it would take some time before she was confident enough to even think of doing the same once more. No other strikes would come, and she would wait for him to make the next move, ever watchful of his precise reactions. Combat was one of the best mediums with which to test another, especially one recently turned such as him. “Think, then act. Don’t let your want for blood override any logical thought.” Not, at least, before he knew what he was thinking.

[member="Connor Harrison"]

 

[Connor Harrison]

Connor caught his blade in an open palm and dropped his arm down. His breathing was irregular and he pushed his tongue on his teeth to distract him from speaking untoward. Keira was pushing his buttons now, and he hated some little girl talking to him like he was a toddler learning to walk. Who was she? Mouthing off like this, when without him she’d be dead. His brow knotted with her repetitive put-downs – imbeclie?

Wanting to speak , he didn’t have chance before having to lurch back from her blade, and then had to push forward with his boots in the ground to counter her blast of energy. She was such a theatrical girl.

"Keira, please stop talking to me like I’m an idiot – I can’t handle people doing that anymore, I swear to you."

Igniting his own blade, and picturing the peaceful plain around them reduced to nothing; no distractions and nobody aware – just Keira and Connor. He swallowed and exhaled for a moment, knowing she wouldn’t hit first. He centred himself and calmed down. The Force was a tool. He had to use the tool well, with brains and planning to craft the prize. If he acted in a reckless way, he would end up producing something sub-standard and hurt himself in the process. He had to be in control.

Connor swayed gently, eyes closed.

He had to be in control – he had ACCEPT this. To WIELD it. To WANT it. To be the sword, to leave his mark but be in control so nobody could ridicule, question or oppose him.

Connor exhaled and loosened his shoulders, chest rising steadily.

He had to cause pain. He had to hurt them. He had to be a name and person feared and respected.

Connor opened his eyes, clouded with a grey mist that sucked away his natural blue irises. The shroud of his darkness had fallen to focus his mind, the thoughts and voices of those who doubted him flooding his head. The sole purpose here to was confront Keira and hurt her, but with control and precision and brains. Like the Force Lightning Taeli had taught him, act like a conduit for the power to flow through, not an abrupt barrier. Be a stream, let the Force flow through you and outwards.

The Jedi walked towards her, ready, the blade in his right hand and humming with her piercing orange blade yards in front of him. He didn’t speak – words were useless to him.

So, to begin with hard strikes – powerful ones, to weigh her up, wear her down and show immediately his violent intent.

He brought his blade across in a vicious back hand, returning to meet his left palm so both hands could handle the weapon. Striking sharply, he was still devoid of a fluid motion, but rather static strikes – hard right, hard down, hard right – like a hammer slamming down to crush bone – bang bang bang.

After he made a diagonal strike, his body turned with the momentum and with that he turned and brought up his left boot for a strike to her abdomen, before it fell to the ground to retain his balance and new posture ready for another attack.

[member="Keira Ticon"]

 

[Keira Priest]

This should be their theme

Hard, blunt and powerful. That was Djem So at work, there was no doubt about it. The aggressive style was one of two Keira had taken it upon herself to master, as such she recognized it almost immediately. That in turn made it something relatively easy to counter, in theory. After all, she knew the majority of the maneuvers and each weakness that came along with them. The only deciding factor was the difference in natural strength, a facet he had her beat in regardless of how highly trained she was. Sometimes it was the biology of it all that made the final decision. And that meant she wouldn’t be able to meet his blade directly with hers without consequences abounding. Indirect tactics were something she had utilized before, and they would suffice just as well this time. He might have been determined, but she was just as hell-bent to make things as difficult for him as possible. If he really wanted this he would have to work for it. Nothing came easy.

Orange sparked across blue, plasma sliding against itself as their weapons clashed, broke apart and clashed again. This transcended far beyond a simple sparring match, and it may as well have been a live combat scenario for all the both of them were holding back. But this was just the way she liked it. Only through constant struggle and instances of near-death would her talents be improved any exponential amount. Anything less was unacceptable, and she wouldn’t stand for remaining stagnant in her talents. While saber combat came easily that of the hand-to-hand sort still left something to be desired, and she relied on her talents in the ethereal far more than she would ever admit. It was far from the best strategy, but she had lived this far, and survival was her only intention from the get-go. Any extra achievements were just a bonus, but this time around she had a feeling she would need all the luck she could get to simply get out relatively unscathed. So be it.

Her body turned and shifted with his kick, ad she utilized the Force in order to cushion the blow, the momentum being the only difficulty she was left with. The saber in her grasp extinguished in the seconds she rolled on the ground, sparking back into existence the moment she found her footing again. The breath had been driven from her, but she forced herself to regain every iota lost in those few moments of recompense. Now he was beginning to take things just as seriously as she, a welcome new factor in this fight. "Better. I want you to hit me." It wasn’t that she enjoyed the pain per se, but in her life she had learned to draw on the negative emotions of others in order to fuel her own attacks. That was one surefire way to allow her to continue to do so, and through that tactic she had held up in all manner of battles. With his seemingly uncontrollable emotions rolling off of him in waves it was simple to find a source of energy there.

The simple intoxicating tangibility of his anger was enough to bring a smile to her lips, garnering a nearly weightless sensation throughout her entire body. No matter how close to the middle line she walked there would always be a special place in her heart for the taint of the dark, and it was always that side of her which would override any other. This was ultimately what she had learned to live for in the past, and still even now she found a different sort of enjoyment in it. Of course, it would only last as long as his learning curve did, and from then on she would have to improvise. But right now was where she ultimately thrived, and perhaps where he would learn to do the same in time. First he would have to learn to listen to both his own better judgement and her own advice, two things which seemed to be progressing relatively slowly. If this was how she had been, then perhaps she could find it in her to feel some sort of pity for those that had dealt with her in those early stages.

Whereas his strikes were blunt hers were of a more fluid sort, though still powerful in their own right if left unchecked. He had made the first move and now she intended to capitalize on it, each movement connected to the next. Her final strike cut low towards his knees before she broke away, the entirety of it vaguely reminiscent of the technique she had utilized in combat with him previously. "I wouldn't have to keep talking to you like that if you would stop acting like one. Force knows what the Jedi have taught you about thinking for yourself, but it's good to do that every once in awhile. Might help with a bit of this choice paralysis." Her tone became just a touch more brash the more she drew on the darker side of things, but she was far more in control than him in that moment. Where he let his emotions control him she allowed hers to function as a sort of fuel, and in that aspect among others they differed. "Try and be independent for once. It does wonders."

[member="Connor Harrison"]

 

[Connor Harrison]

The world around him seemed to cave in a little, subdue that little more and turn hazy. The only thing that was in focus was Keira. He didn’t fight the near disorientating feeling, nor did he understand it, but it was like she was syphoning all his attention and emotion to be the one thing he was focused one.

Connor stumbled back from the orange blade and hopped sideways, clashing with her weapon again, and spinning around with a move that used their powerful momentum of blades to keep their movement fluid.

He stayed quiet, and he felt the adrenalin start to pump in his blood – and when she invited him to hit her, he didn’t need to be asked – or invited – a second time. Nothing happened for a second, and then she moved again with fast, strong hits with those dark eyes burning into his from behind. It was like a strange ritural dance the two were starting to perform. There was anger and years of resentment form them both coming out in their strikes, but they kept moving.

She swept low near his feet again and Connor jumped swiping left with his blade to push her back. And then the spoke again. That chastising tone to her voice that pushed him again to the edge. He HATED her voice. He HATED her tone.

Moving forward, lips tight and eyes fixed on her, he brought his blade up vertically, held it and then drew it around with both hands from right to left. In the second her orange weapon countered his, he let her body move with the power used to deflect his attack. He smoothly switched the hilt to his left hand and let her counter it down, while he brought up his right fist and threw it forward hard with nothing but an intent to inflict pain, directly to the side of her face.

She wasn’t a girl, or a friend. She was a bug and needed to be hurt.

[member="Keira Ticon"]

 

[Keira Priest]

The only sound was the hum and drone of their blades cutting through the air, each movement fluid and connected to the next. It was plain that this was their element, where each of them belonged and thrived. Nothing else quite provided this same form of innate therapy in the shape of relentless and never-ending violence. At once Keira was hyperaware of her surroundings while at the same time remaining in a sort of tunnel-vision that severely limited her sight to anything beyond Connor himself and his next move. Nothing else mattered, and she wouldn't dare extend her range of concentration beyond such zone without ample reason. He was much too skilled for her to divert her attention elsewhere. This was as her life had been previously, when combat was the only thing worth living for. Now it was as if he'd taken her place.

In the next second his fist connected with her jaw, blocking out all thought for the first few seconds even as she instinctively rolled with the motion in order to find her feet again. The world around her was hazy, ears ringing from the aftereffects of the blow. Taking a direct hit of that nature was nothing new, but somehow she managed to be caught off guard by the sheer force of things each time. One hand reached up to probe her jaw, and she couldn't keep the small smile that crept slowly to her lips. That was one she'd be feeling later, but it was worth it if he would learn something along the way. The only real goal here was for him to learn what it meant to manipulate the dark rather than be manipulated in turn, and if this was what it took then she would deliver to a point. Eventually he would have to weather the same. Only through pain did one gain strength.

"I can tell you're starting to like this. Be careful of that. It's a dangerous line to walk." The vaguest of grey areas separated their kind from the Sith, and she wouldn't allow either of them to cross that nearly irreparable gap. That would only make this more of a mess, giving the others more ample reason to trust neither of them even less than seemed the norm now. Soon enough all they would have would be each other, not that she would much mind the isolation. But he was likely the sort that refused to drift away and cut ties so easily. "I mean it, Connor. Even I won't be able to redeem you completely if you allow yourself to fall to the dark entirely. You'll be on your own then. Is that what you want?" Her voice was entirely sincere, still demanding attention despite the weight behind her words. He could interpret that piece of advice however he wished, but throughout all of this she only meant the best for him. Sometimes it was difficult to tell, given her methods, but she was genuine.

Pushing forward she forced their blades into a lock, flicking her wrist in a manner that allowed her to strike out with the pommel of her saber towards his face in a strike that would serve much the same purpose as his punch had. Regardless of whether that attack was successful or not she would begin and end another burst of fast swings with her blade before turning into a kick directed for his midsection, releasing a burst of the Force from her trailing hand. That was quite the sequence in a short amount of time, and for the next few moments she did nothing more than center herself and regain her breath. It was her inner chaos bursting forth once again, proving that it still reigned supreme despite her attempts at repressing it for the greater good. She was a hair's breadth away from snapping, and it would only take one false move from either of them for her to sink entirely past the edge. Then there would be no stopping either of them, but in a way she would welcome that momentary anarchy.

"You seem to be forgetting that I'm just as much a Master as you. Whatever you're capable of I can match. Watch yourself." One way or another this fight would come to an end, but there wasn't much of a proper conclusion on the horizon from what she could see. This would only reach a resolution when one of them was either unconscious or close to the point of quite literally collapsing of exhaustion. It was anyone's guess as to what would come first, and she had resolved from the beginning to not be the first to fall, just as much as he likely had done the same. The both of them were in just as bad a place mentally as the other, and this was one surefire way to vent those feelings while still improving upon themselves in a manner. Besides, she had missed the indescribable feeling of adrenaline coursing through her veins just as plentifully as blood.

[member="Connor Harrison"]

 

[Connor Harrison]

He didn’t take his hit as anything else other than a move to hurt her; she recovered from it, and it satisfied him a great deal to connect with her flesh and inflict pain. Once more she talked down to him, lecturing him – this was HIS path to follow, not hers. She had to deal with that. If Syala had a mirror being in this galaxy, Connor knew it’d be Keira. Always supportive and always thinking what is best, but with methods far, far different.

”I came into this alone so I’ll continue it alone if I have to.”

He carved his blade in an arc across the ground and recoiled from a strike, digging his feet down as he clashed with Keira, carving up the air around them. His muscles were tighter than they’d been for months, pushing his strength into each movement and embracing the Force to fuel him. As they clashed, he locked eyes with the girl, but missed the fact she was just as clever as him – the pommel of her weapon cracked into his face which caused him great pain across his teeth, but he fought to hold the lock, but was already distracted with the pain.

She used it well, breaking his stance, kicking him hard and sending him sprawling back as if pulled back hard by a wire to slam down across the soil with a groan.

Connor exhaled and winced at the feeling that spread across his jaw, as if his teeth had been caved in. He rolled onto his knees and reached up to finger inside his mouth. All intact, luckily, but the taste of iron coated his tongue, and pulled out bloody fingers.

He felt her behind him, taking a moment, and so he did. Master or not, rank didn’t bother Connor. He was a weapon and the Force was an extension of that, and he enjoyed the feeling of the hurt inflicted on him. It actually felt good to let this mangled power out, to have it pushed back against him, and all from someone he at one time tried to help years ago – now they were dancing their own perverse tune of violence and psychology.

Standing up, Connor activated his blade and nodded. He didn’t care for her words. His left fist curled and he found that spark inside him, the one that never died, and one he thrived on letting out. He span around to face her, but as he did, his left arm shot out and he tensed his face in a glare of power as he summoned Force Lightning out of his palm towards Keira – a wild arc of violet energy that would show her that HE was the Master, and HE was in control.

[member="Keira Ticon"]

 

[Keira Priest]

The simple act of hitting another was a luxury that had been all but nonexistent in her life, and so to actually have the opportunity to fully exercise her ability was nothing short of an indulgence in every respect. The smile on her lips became a touch more wanton and carefree, almost dangerously so. In that moment it felt as if all the chains that had bound her previously were dissolved into nothing, that they had never existed in the first place. Whereas most were far more docile with no worry Keira was of a concentrated and even deadly state of mind, seeing nothing to restrain her from obtaining any goal she set her eyes on. Right now that goal was bringing Connor down to a level that suited herself, but what that was she wasn't entirely certain just yet. This was a fight with no goal in sight of yet, but strangely enough she was satisfied with that realization.

Pain rolled off of him in waves for those first seconds, and she couldn't help the minute laugh that bubbled past her lips at the breathless sensation. The blood on his fingers as he probed his injuries intrigued her in the sense that she willed to see more, no matter the source. There was no doubt that this was the darker side of her emerging from the shadows, pining for attention and consolation. Slowly she was letting it in, opening the door crack by crack, that acidic toxicity creeping back into her mindset and form. It wouldn't be obvious right away, but those thunderclouds were slowly returning to rest behind her eyes, stirring themselves up and once more creating that unstoppable storm. And she would be hard-pressed to allow herself to slow down so long as each move was entirely effortless in its execution.

But that self-confidence only lasted as long as her ability to perceive such a thing did, and that ended once his single and devastating attack connected with her form. Within the next breath her legs seemed to disintegrate from beneath her, all air being driven forcibly from her lungs as if the organs themselves had been crushed by a giant, unrelenting fist. At once she was struck with a sensation of all-consuming pain, though a strange sort of numbness settled in as well, pervading beneath the electricity that coursed through every one of her nerve endings. There was nothing else she was aware of other than that indescribable agony, the entirety of her surroundings collapsing into nothingness. This was a feeling impossible to describe to those that hadn't experienced it somehow themselves. At the same time she drew strength from it.

The moment she regained enough strength in her limbs her hands clenched into fists, jaw clenching against the pain, forcing herself to stifle a scream. It took massive amounts of effort to bring herself to her knees, let alone to a proper standing position. A grimace flashed across her face, and she hissed quietly in sole annoyance that she'd been brought down so easily. There was no doubt in his strength from the breathtaking power of that attack, and for once she was given pause when it came to her repartee. A weakness still lingered in her muscles, a complete antithesis to the seemingly inexhaustible well of power she had drawn from previously. With a methodical slowness she worked each tendon and muscle from her head to her toes, making certain that each one functioned as it had previously with no oddities.

A breathless smile remained on her lips despite that, and she tilted her head slightly to one side. "Mmm, maybe you have learned something useful after all." Reaching out with the Force she called her blade back into her hand, orange plasma hissing back into existence as if it had never been dissipated in the first place. She stepped towards him deliberately, stopping when nothing short of a few meters separated the pair. It was her manner of showing him that she was far from cowed despite that little display. "But every Sith Lord and their Acolyte can pull off something like that. You'll need more than that to really impress me. I've seen electricity thrown before. It's nothing special." Not when you encountered it at nearly every turn, at least. "Come on, Jedi. I want to see something more." Or at least something more than this.

[member="Connor Harrison"]

 

[Connor Harrison]

Connor gritted his teeth in that animalistic way he had when he saw Arcanix brought to her knees by his attack, and now Keira suffered the same. He didn’t hold the blast as she fell to her knees, letting it naturally drain from his fingers without an abrupt halt to avoid blistering his skin. As she went down, he curled up his fist and smiled to himself.

The pain she was in could be felt, and he enjoyed that feeling. It was good for her to hurt – she deserved to hurt, and it would benefit her. Dragging the blade across the scorched ground of dead grass with a casual pace in his steps, Connor ambled along to watch her fathom what to do next.

Eventually she called the blade to her palm, rose and walked towards him. As both blades were pointing down, this seemed to be another moment where buttons would be pushed and comments thrown. Keria looked ravaged, but there was something wonderfully attractive about her this close up in the thick of a rage-fuelled release of hate and anger towards each other and the ones pulling their strings.

For Connor wasn’t hitting out at her, he was hitting out at everything else in his life. She was the punch bag. But this punchbag hit just as hard with her words, and he forced a grunt of a laugh at her response through a cracked voice. More? Connor hadn’t been taught anything more by anyone – the results she saw was the product of a broken man suffering broken promises and broken hope. He was supposed to be the Master, not the student. Piecing together fragmented attacks and blows probably identified why he faltered against Sith Lords.

He shook his head gently, ”I don’t HAVE any more.”

It made him angry to admit, and to be goaded, and then without thinking he lashed out again.

His left hand shot out to grab her blade wrist, gripping his fingers tight around her flesh and pushing her arm back on itself, to bring the blade dangerously close to them. And at the same time he focused on her brow, and the brain behind in, and brought a swell of Force energy from his own mind to push into hers – anything he could focus on from his past; the impaling of Master Sochi Ru on a Sith blade before his eyes; attacking Arcanix with Lightning; kissing Chastity at the Masked Ball; strangling Nima in the Temple Gardens…violence, pain and suffering.

All the while his brow was knotted and eyes intent on hers as he fought to bring her blade up towards her face, wanting to sear her face with the burning energy blade and leave his mark as so many had done to him.

He wasn’t surprising maybe to her, or new in the eyes of someone who had seen so much, but Connor Harrison wasn’t the same as everyone else – they didn’t have the desire he did and the want to be everything by having nothing. Funny - only weeks ago they were laughing to each other and being care free in this very meadow.

[member="Keira Ticon"]

 

[Keira Priest]

It was nothing more than raw strength pitted against raw strength, muscles straining against each other, the pure physicality of it all an abrupt change from the utilization of their ethereal talents only minutes earlier. Just as much as he pushed Keira returned that same strength and burning defiance to come out on top. If she fell he was going to come down with her, at the very least. No quarter would be given this time, no strikes adjusted to be something less than killing blows. From the beginning of this confrontation she had anticipated and willed a fight, and with his most recent strike she would bring just that and nothing less. The both of them had come together as two broken individuals that needed nothing more than simple understanding, and now that had grown to lashing out at each other. And she wasn't about to make this easy for him.

"Then you're just as weak as those you claim yourself separate from." Perhaps it was those words that had pushed him, or something far more internalized, because in the next second he lashed out once again, this time grabbing for her blade arm and keeping it firmly locked in his grasp. For all of the strength a cybernetic granted she wasn't able to gain enough leverage to break free, being forced to settle and wait for what he had in store. It manifested itself as a slow poison, a cold feeling of dread that sunk like a stone to the pit of her stomach. Unpleasant, but nothing she hadn't experienced before. His mentalism abilities without a doubt far outmatched her own, but this was nothing new. Something of this sort may have surprised his fellow Jedi, but she was far from the average lightsaber-toting warrior of light that was so common.

Or maybe she had spoken too soon. Just as quickly as she adapted that sensation increased, pressing down on her from all sides, every wall imaginable closing in. The bottom of her world dropped out completely, and she was left with no solid ground and nothing to stand for. It was the feeling of being entirely helpless magnified a thousandfold, until she wasn't certain of much else but her own inability to do much of anything to prevent this feeling from spreading. But at the same time, in a strange sort of symbiosis, she took solace in the pain he had felt and the suffering he had inflicted on others in the past. Much of it was a product of him giving in fully to his anger, one of the very things that fueled both of their inner darknesses. While she was brought down she was also built from the ground up, this paradox of sensations weaving a complex web that was next to impossible to break out of. But she would. She had to. There would be no falling to someone like him, not today and not ever.

The heat of plasma energy so close to her face was just what she needed for an abrupt wake-up call. Her survival instincts kicked into overdrive, adrenaline flowing with renewed vigor through her veins. Without thinking she pushed down and away in an effort to avoid further injury on her own part. But the blade passed a hair's breadth too close, searing a burn across her skin from the right side of her throat diagonally towards her sternum. Had it struck any closer it would have no doubt been deadly, and she had her own instinct and the Force to thank for that. Releasing another kick towards his middle she broke away, keeping her blade in hand no matter the pain she felt, stumbling slightly and falling to one knee from the wave of dizziness brought on. If she pushed herself any further it was only a matter of time before she collapsed. But perhaps that was what she wanted.

"You give in too easily." Until she found the strength within herself for physical retaliation, words would have to suffice just as well. "You collapse beneath the weight of your own hatred and anger, and eventually you give in to yourself, of all people." Not that she was much of one to talk, given that it was that which had brought her to the point she was at now. But she wanted him to have a chance at life, at controlling things, before he became like her. Only when she was certain things couldn't be prevented would she back away completely. "Self-control is something you need if you think yourself able to hold this new power in check." Once again, not something she could speak out against entirely. This was for his own good, however, not her own. Perhaps if someone had given her this speech things would have been different. "There's a word for people who surrender so easily, Connor." And this one she spoke directly into his mind, allowing that corruption to overtake her,



W̸̼͎ͫ͢e̷̢͕̣̮̲̮̝̪ͩ̀̈ͣ̒͋̆̔ͮa̤̗̬̘̻̽̏̍̈ͪ̆́k̨͉̟͉̹̺̓̅ͬ̆ͅ.̶̧̅͂͑́҉̪̦̠̤̮̼̼͔


[member="Connor Harrison"]

 

[Connor Harrison]

With nothing to focus on but the searing light from the orange blade, he pushed harder, shaking against her resilience. She may be younger and weaker physically, but she had a strong spirit. And seconds later, she fell and brought the blade downwards between them. There was no noise to signal anything had happened and yet again she followed through with a swift kick to his stomach.

It landed perfectly and sent hin stumbling back, doubled away as the breath was sucked out of him for a few moments. His blue blade wavered, before it vanished back into the hilt, killed by Connor as he held his body in agony. It actually hurt a little breath in, she'd done something...broken a rib maybe? He hadn't felt this before, each breath in ended with a sharp little jab.

He looked to see the girl on one knee, a vicious streak of burnt crimson skin down her body. This was where it ended.

Wincing slightly, he stood and walked over to the girl on her knee, shaking his head at her stabbing words, and closed his eyes to listen to her echoing inside his head. He smiled gently and looked to her.

”Weak? You're the one on your knee, Keira.”

He saw what he had touched upon, and she wasn't someone he wanted to lacerate with his blade. She had suffered pain, which was pleasing. He too felt something not right inside that battered body of his, but for some reason he didn't feel the need, or desire, to say sorry.

Connor held out his left hand.

”I may hate at times and be angry, but I've still got a little hope inside me. Along with something you've broken I think.”

A little curl of the lips formed.

[member="Keira Ticon"]

 

[Keira Priest]

Quieter music

In the blink of an eye it was back to how things had been mere weeks earlier, when the two of them were cracking jokes with each other and simply living their separate lives. All it had taken was that brief clash with all of their emotion released into those blows to finish things, and a broken rib and moderately severe burn to boot. Now the tension between them had dissipated, once more replaced with that weightless carefree attitude that had been commonplace previously. Some sort of retaliation had been expected, but instead his blade had been extinguished in the seconds after her attack had landed. If there was one plausible way to give her metaphorical whiplash, it was through methods like this. Such a gentle touch after so many vicious strikes was far from the norm, but apparently would grow to be so when it came to their relationship.

It would have been an easy thing to reject his offer of assistance and make her own way to her feet, but instead she allowed him to help her, disengaging her blade and clipping it at her waist. One hand reached up to rub at her sore jaw, and she shook her head with a smile. "It's subjective, alright? Besides, don't ruin the moment. It was almost too much fun, trying to kill you. Might have to do this again sometime." Anyone else would have been confused by this encounter to say the least, but when it came to the both of them this was nothing short of perfectly normal. Slow days occurred when no one experienced a life-or-death scenario. If he hadn't lashed out at her from the start and she hadn't responded in much of the same manner, that would have been a sign that something more was wrong beneath the surface. But everything had transpired as expected.

Each was broken down almost as much as their mentality had been in the past, pushed to their limits and beyond in order to prove that they were far from weak. People like them always had to prove to someone that they had the strength to carry on and survive whatever ordeals life had to throw at them, and this had been one of those times. It was only healthy to let those feelings out instead of bottling them up, releasing them rather than allowing such toxic thoughts to remain on the backburner until they were impossible to ignore any longer. This was their therapy, their method of opening up without ever really speaking any words at all. It communicated far more than simple conversation ever would, putting words into action rather than letting them spill idly so that medication could be assigned and nothing more done. This was the only way anything worthwhile was ever accomplished with them.

"You had it coming, bashard. A broken rib isn't too bad. You'll be back to normal in a few weeks and then forget about it. I've had enough of them to know all the tricks." And all the ways to skirt past the actual healing process so more time could be logged completing tasks that were worth her attention. It came with having fought in countless battles and living to tell the tale, not to mention her tendency to pick all the wrong fights in the first place. But combat was where she thrived, as today had proven, and he would have to learn to live with the consequences just as she had. "It might just be a crack, instead of a break." Mottled eyes looked him up and down. "You're still standing, so I wouldn't say it's too bad. You didn't puncture a lung, and everybody's still standing on their own two feet. Slow day, isn't it?" For her, maybe.

Reaching up she gave him a playful slug on the shoulder, beginning to walk and motioning that he fall in step beside her. "Let's get cleaned up, then, and maybe get something to eat. The day's not over yet." It was a strange sort of camaraderie the two of them shared, one built on genuine understanding just as much as it was on a want to bring each other down and level the playing field. If there ever was a pair more similar and yet opposite in the most intrinsic ways, the galaxy had yet to see it. "I've got a few stories to tell you, anyway, and I'm sure we both have things to catch up on. It's been about a month or so. Somebody has to have almost died in that time." In contrast to before her tone was lighthearted, with no intent behind it other than the sort to genuinely relax. Before had been hell, and here was their purgatory.

[member="Connor Harrison"]

 

[Connor Harrison]

Connor helped her, wincing, and stretched slightly, as if trying to put something back that had fallen out of place in his body. An odd sensation, and an unpleasant one – he’d much rather have a simple burn or wound and leave it at that where he could see it. Connor smiled and broke into a small laugh at her confidence even now.

”Don’t think I put all my effort into that, I was just toying with you,” he muttered, glancing across at her.

He looked down at himself as Keira identified his internal break – or bruise, and then he winced at the slug on the shoulder. Playfully of course. Funny, how two so locked in heated combat with the want to inflict pain and belittlement could be back to how they were in the blink of an eye; carefree and understanding and tolerable.

He turned his head to her and gently lifted her chin with his fingers to see her neck and the burn that had cooked the top layer of skin. The slash went down her body, and he tutted to himself as they walked on.

”I’m pretty famished I have to say. And yes, before anything, get that tended to. You’re lucky I wasn’t putting my all into knocking the crap out of you.”

She had thrown a slug at him, so he in return he swiped out the side of his boot to hit hers. Such an odd pairing, but at the worst of times he felt they could be the greatest of allies.

[member="Keira Ticon"]