Private Lightning in a Bottle

[Loske Treicolt]

​

Somewhere in a Tython clearing, Loske is doing something like this, and feeling this kinda mood with Frank.

Suspended with invisible strings, several inanimate objects levitated several feet above their normal resting spots. Frank included. The first time this had happened to him was due to Isar, on Sullust. He’d hated it then, and he wasn’t fond of it now.

Still, Loske had asked so pollitely he’d had to oblige. In the end, he couldn’t refuse her - despite how much he grumbled about it. Apparently having some level of sentience and allowing her to try and control his location was certainly more difficult than making a quarry of rocks float.

He’d been rotating around the air for so long he’d lost track of time, taking solace in the fact this was the longest he and Loske had been together and she’d been silent.

Meanwhile, Loske was focused outward. At the start of this session, she’d been introspective. Getting a sense of her personal presence within The Force. After her trial at The Forge, she’d reached a new appreciation for what The Force was. Far beyond a tool to be wielded. It took its own shapes, and she could only do so much to refine it to her will. It was a companionship she was exploring with each rhythmic breath. The ethereal welcomed the obviousness of her presence within it, and instructed her observation to how she impacted, in rolling waves, all that was around her. The light within was shared to as a unification even to the least expected, the inanimate, in a nigh undetectable bind. Something to be easily missed, as she had before, without the intent to seek it out and better understand the relationship.

It was time she focus a little more on what she could do and grow from there. While Cedric had made a visit to Ession, she’d also parted ways back to her homeland. Her recent visit to Kiffu had revealed a laundry list of powers she could activate, and she’d uncovered the reasons behind her incapacitation. There was a lot of potential that had been buried, requiring triggers from memories that were not her own - that had been the scientist’s failure. No training. The optimistic expectation that it could all just work.

If she was a tempest before, what was she now?

Lightning in a bottle.

P Placeholder 0128

 

[Placeholder 0128]

The day to day administration of the Imperium was necessary work, but gods was it dull. Cedric had been mulling over yet another diatribe on changing economic policies on Empress Teta when he'd found himself reaching a breaking point in terms of boredom. One could only sit in one place doing nothing for so long before they began to lose their grip on reality.

With a huff, the Jedi made his way from the half-built temple toward the presence he felt on the other end of his ethereal chain. His bond with Loske was was as much a spiritual thing as it was an organic GPS system. Cedric wasn't sure which side of the bond he valued more.

Loske would certainly sense him as he approached, and if not that, then she'd likely hear the crunch of leaves beneath his boots as he came to stand a few meters away.

His hair had grown out since his trip to Ession, though it was nothing compared to the manes of other notable Jedi. No hair pulling here.

"Well," he grinned, "You'll be hurling star destroyers at people in no time."

Loske Treicolt

 

[Loske Treicolt]

Gone were the days where she depended solely on her physical senses. P Placeholder 0128 's approach was detected long before the snapping of twigs beneath his feet. The empyrean glistened at the intention to approach, and only grew more and more luminescent as he cut through the landscape she'd familiarized herself with over the last while.

She didn't open her eyes straight away at the audible interjection, but slowly made minutiae gestures - a stark contrast to her formerly obvious movements - to ease the raised stones back to the ground. Frank also soon found himself settled. When her feet touched the ground, she opened her eyes and grinned, giving a short shake of her head at the commentary. "You keep saying that. With all that encouragement, I should start training at the shipyards instead."

There was little pause between her retort and taking quick enough steps to close the space between them, and looping her arms around his neck with a squeeze - the toughness of the armour something she was growing used to. She lingered long enough to savour the embrace, before leaning back enough to register his appearance, rather than just smothering her face into his shoulder. "I missed you."

There was so much to share from Kiffu, but she'd let curiosity take the lead before dominating the conversation with requests and excitable anecdotes. "How was the venture to Ession? What did you find?"

 

[Placeholder 0128]

"I really need to get some new material," It was only then that he thought about how many times he'd made that joke. Brief surprise colored his features as the stones gently eased to the ground. Loske's control over the empyrean grew by the day - no doubt due to her unique biochemistry - and it was a level of progress he'd not seen before.

Perhaps she'd even surpass him one day.

He met her halfway as she came in for the tackle. Low laughter rumbled from his chest as his arms laced around her, his lips pressing to her brow before she drew back. "I missed you too."

Definitely something he could get used to coming home to.

"It was better than my last one, at the very least. There are a handful of communities still living beneath the planet's surface. Managed to establish contact, and bring a few survivors back in the process." A bright spot in the carnage that had ruined the planet.

"What happened on Kiffu?"

Loske Treicolt

 

[Loske Treicolt]

Overhead, some of the local wildlife flew from branch to branch, trying to find a location suitable. As if it were keen to eavesdrop.

P Placeholder 0128 's semi-uncharacteristic positivity made her grin. That was a relief! A visit back to the homeland could be a dark journey, especially if that home was Ession and under the Sith's shadow. She'd been more than worried about the expedition, venturing right into the map that was still under control of the dark powers (and it'd be a lie to say she wasn't the least bit jealous) but her own selfish pursuits served as a pointed distraction. "A resilient nation." She complimented at the resourcefulness of the survivors, finding sanctuary beneath the surface.

Kiffu! Right -- she drew one of his hands to hers and lifted it so their palms were touching, fingers straightened and she evidenced a roguish, mildly cocky grin. This was a technique she was getting quite close to mastering, and its usefulness was evergreen. "I'll show you."

Instantly, streaks of brilliant light would fill both the peripherals of their vision and the mossy, lush, and druxy land underfoot would transform to something more cement-like. At first, Cedric would see Loske as she'd approached the original metallic operating table, and then go a layer deeper - a vision within a vision. The same exploration the kiffar had found. Her concentration willed her through the parts that were unimportant to her newfound confidence, but stilled the portion of the projection where the team of Kiffu's brightest reviewed a list of injected performance attributes from both donors.

There. She thought, breaking through the mental realm to assert her persuasion to Cedric's focus. Look at that list. Those are things I should be able to do.

Spoiler

Marcello Matteo	Kiskla Grayson
Combat	Combat
Lightsaber Combat (Form V) Martial Arts (Teras Kasi)	Light Saber Combat (Form I, II, III, IV, VI - Form VII Emphasis)
Force Powers	Force Powers
Electric Judgement Force Bubble/Barrier	Art of the Small Force Light Psychometery Telekineses/ telepathy Tutaminis Flow Walking

The story was manipulated long enough to give a sense of how she'd failed the last time, ending at the scene where the lab had been ultimately decimated by a scene not unlike the one that had occurred on Weapon Ultima - but of course, with electricity and telekinesis baked into the explosion of Force Light. All the predominant powers that had been spliced together burst out all at once, unable to be contained in the lithe vessel that was the untrained clone.

By contrast, Isar's success had been with sending him to train with The Jedi. She curled her fingers inward, slowly severing the all consuming projection between herself and her partner. The image of the bruised and dented lab rat clone replaced with the full-fledged reality of the warrior ready to step into her programming.

"I can do this, I just have to figure out how to work with what I've got."

 

[Placeholder 0128]

Positivity was an erstwhile friend for the Imperator, but he chose to embrace it for the time being. The trip to Ession had been both pleasant and unpleasant. Any return to the homeworld was going to leave him in a bit of a sour mood. One could not look upon their home in such a ruined state and not be affected. Even still, the resilience of his people had proven inspirational. If they could persist in such a hostile environment, then the Imperium would do so as well.

"We're definitely something," Cedric snickered as she took his hand in his. Whatever unpleasantness might have been lingering in his mind about Ession vanished near instantly. Loske had that effect on him. He parted his lips to speak further, but as his perception of reality began to shift, he held his tongue. Trees and foliage curled in on themselves, greens fading to grays, and the warm humidity of the forest replaced by a cold dampness that reminded Cedric of standing in a cave.

He dare not speak as Loske guided him through her memories, not wishing to break her concentration. His brow furrowed with mild worry as the vision carried on, shifting from the operating table to visions within visions.

His eyes vaguely glanced over the list, just as the world exploded in a burst of light and electricity not unlike what had happened on the Ultima. He found himself pulled back into reality shortly thereafter, eyes blinking a bit rapidly as he regained his bearings.

"Well," he breathed, "That's quite the list. Wonder how those scientists managed to hard code that stuff into you." A momentary thought came. It was an opportunist's inclination, and he quickly cast it aside. Trying to harness the secrets that had led to Loske's creation would only end with trouble, not to mention the moral implications.

"From what I've noticed, you seem to access these abilities in times of extreme stress," he mused, "Training will certainly help. We just need to push you." An idea occurred.

"You up for a spar?"

Loske Treicolt

 

[Loske Treicolt]

"I didn't go back that far." Loske murmured, almost wistfully. She hadn't really thought of seeking out the whole creation process - something about it kind of creeped her out. Akin to a child not wanting to revisit the ideas of their natural conception - even moreso, Loske didn't want to visit her unnatural creation. She explained this out loud: "Kind of like you not wanting to go think too much on your conception, I'd rather leave mine part of the mystery too."

"Ou-ahh.." she made an uncomfortable noise in response to the suggestion. It was a true realization. Weapon Ultima was an excellent example. Empress Teta, another. "Some - not all. The Flow Walking thing was total happenstance. But - yeah, perhaps the more militant techniques are triggered in context." She withdrew her hand from his to touch her lips in thought.

"Okay, let's test this theory out." There was a confidence that once something was triggered, she'd be able to repeat it. She'd done that with Force Light. It was just a matter of discovery.

"We trigger, then we figure out afterwords how to repeat." She gave a definitive nod, and took a step backward, slipping the elastic from her wrist around her hair and pulling it back to a taut ponytail. When she was satisfied with the restraint, her hand dropped to the hilt at her hips.

"I'm surprised this is the first time you've suggested a spar." Then again, maybe not. She'd been headlong into skirmishes, beheading sith lords, all sorts of stuff. Her next comment came coupled with a roguish grin and wink combination. "Does this mean you're feeling brave enough to face me now?"

P Placeholder 0128

 

[Placeholder 0128]

Whatever curiosity Cedric might have had as to the particulars of Loske’s origins were lost with the analogy she gave. A brief moment of distaste colored his features as the mental image came and went. The Kiffu girl had a point.
“Copy that.” His arms fell to his sides as she drew away. Privately the Essonian was a bit excited to face off against Loske in a duel. She’d not had the ability to stand up to his blade work in the past: she had a bit of experience swinging a glow stick around now.

“Okay, you just stand really still and let me throw one of these boulders at you. See if that triggers anything.” His cracked a half smile as he shrugged off his cloak, letting it drop into the grass below. “You have to give me a break Loske, you’re kind of terrifying.” A warm breeze whistled through the forest as he turned back to face her. “It’s taken me months to build up the courage to fight you.”

Loving sarcasm aside, there was room for a lesson here. He’d find a way to fit it in somewhere: there were more interesting things to focus on right now.

“Just try not to beat me too badly,” he smiled with his teeth as the lightsaber at his belt snapped to meet his open palm.

Loske Treicolt

 

[Loske Treicolt]

The idea of standing in a single spot while a barrage of boulders came flying at her elicited a shake of her head and eye roll. Something about her visit to the past suggested that had been the common practice to get her to react, but thankfully Cedric was more rational when it came to the militant realities of the field.

If this were just a hand-to-hand spar, they may be more evenly matched. The truth was, she’d only sparred intentionally with her lightsaber a handful of times since she’d gotten it. Barely counting the event on Kiffu where her mother had pretty much outright attacked her to prove her mettle. Having a diverse set of dance partners helped with her unpredictability, but she still hadn’t quite nailed her own prowess with the blade and her incomprehensiveness of self would give P Placeholder 0128 a certain advantage, notwithstanding the whole Master versus Padawan dichotomy.

“Do you have parameters on how dirty you play?” She asked, taking the first step to pace. The question itself was innocent and purposeful enough - were there boundaries? None? How stressful did he intend to make this? How realistic? But there was also that everlasting suggestive thread between them they’d continue to pull until it fully unravelled, or threshold crossed. “Should we have a safe word?”

In all her spars, she realized her opponents never wanted to go first. It was rare they’d put her on the defensive unless she outright requested it. She spared Cedric the discomfort and opted to move. With a subtle twitch of her finger, she hovered above the trigger that would reduce the weapon’s lethality. If she toned that down, she’d have an escape goat at the back of her mind. True stress wouldn’t exist.

Maybe they could level up to that temperature. He’d likely be able to sense via their bond if she needed to be pushed further as they engaged. With that rational, her sword demoted its settings to something adequate to training.

Without further adieu, she leapt forward in a lunge, swinging up high but bringing the blade in a downward slash from shoulder to lower shin. Likely something to be caught, which she followed up with her free hand, a telekinetic blossom knock him backward and give her further pressing advantage. At least giving him some time to establish ground rules while displaying she was ready and raring to go.

 

[Placeholder 0128]

"Dirty as you like. Safe words not included," The Jedi flashed her a toothy grin. He'd not elected to train Loske as most Jedi would. Lightsaber forms were something he considered defunct compared to Essonian swordplay, but then the forms were easier to teach. If Loske already had access to such abilities, it might pay to capitalize on them.

The Blade of Ruusan dimmed in its constant whirring as Cedric dialed back the power so that it would leave little more than a sting. With precautions in place, he stepped forward, body shifting reflexively to meet her movement.

The strike was more than a little telegraphed. The Imperator shifted his blade with both hands, catching her weapon on the glowing edge of his own. Then came the burst of telekinetic energy.

What should have sent Cedric tumbling backward hit him like a strong wind, forcing him to disengage and backstep, but little more. "The essentials of combat with a lightsaber," Cedric began as he held his blade out wide, talking with his free hand. "Particularly when dealing with a force user, are concentration, and clarity. The physical movements come after."

His eyes narrowed. "That was a good trick you chose there. Would have sent me tumbling, had I no defense. To battle a force user, one must protect themselves in the Force. You must imagine a barrier around your body at all times, an energy field to block the manipulations of your opponent. If this barrier is broken - when you're exhausted, or hit with something you simply cannot bear - you'll suffer the consequences of a force user's attack like any other person would."

He waited a few moments to see if Loske would adapt to the lesson. To test that theory, he reached out with ethereal tendrils, intending to suspend Loske in the air should she not bring up her barrier in time.

Loske Treicolt

 

[Loske Treicolt]

Fight fire with fire.

Or instead, in Jedi speak, the Force with the Force.

Did that mean her stamina was expected to increase, and be impervious to several intended attacks? That seemed cool. And useful.

Prior to Cedric entering the clearing, Loske had been focusing on the rhythmic mantra of I am one with The Force. The Force is with me. Based on what Cedric suggested, there was no need to abandon that perspective once motion was adopted. She relaxed and let the Force flow through her. Usually, in battle-like situations, the Force seemed to fall silent -- not to desert her, but to become no more than an instinct or alarm when needed. This time, however, Loske found herself connecting to everything around her, as though she were back in that meditative trance. She’d not wait for suggestive forms to guide her, but purely The Force.

She could sense the hesitation behind his movements, giving her the space to acknowledge the lesson and attempt to embody it. A telekinetic outreach twisted through the emptiness, snaking around her. The Force allowed her to see it’s trajectory, assuming the intent before it manifested. Her frame grappled for a moment, feet lifting from the grass with meager helplessness before she focused on reversing the effects. The energy within her extended outward as a counter telekinetic-push, invisible wrestling with the metaphysical intrusion. There was a pause in time while her influence on the physical contested with P Placeholder 0128 ’s and she dropped back down to the ground, the push from her rolling out a meter or so from her person and causing the stones around her to roll away.

“Seems like it would be tiring to keep up a contest all the while you’re fighting.” Loske observed, modifying her stance to something more appropriate to prepare for another attack.

 

[Placeholder 0128]

She had a handle on things.

A brow was lofted as he felt his grip on Loske loosen. The bubble of energy she forged around herself spread quickly, casting aside his otherworldly grip like a child throwing away its toys. He'd expected nothing less of her. His prodigy of an apprentice had proven herself a natural at most things concerning the Force - he almost envied her.

"It does," he agreed, flourishing with his blade as he began to circle her. His gaze never left hers, but his attentions did not come from the eyes. Rather he searched her within the empyrean, probing for any openings in her stance, and slight movements of muscle that would indicate her next move. "Your ability to draw on the Force to defend you will reflect how well you can deal with a force sensitive opponent. Think of it like a muscle. It can do amazing things, but it has to be strengthened first."

The moment the final syllable left his lips, the Jedi darted forward, blade slicing diagonally to cleave Loske through the stomach. Or it would have, had the lightsaber been at full power.

Loske Treicolt

 

[Loske Treicolt]

P Placeholder 0128 's suggestion to keep the Force bubble active was useful in more than just deflection - it meant her agreeableness with the empyrean was prolonged as long as she maintained awareness.

That awareness sent a triggering alert to the nape of her neck. Defensively, her reverse grip brought the golden blade upward from it's hovering position at her side to capture the incoming strike. Diagonal met diagonal. The strength delivered had impressive downward momentum and her wrist jarred on the impact. She grimaced her displeasure with a gasping hhnk, but forced her strength to her grip, pushing against the attack upward while she pushed forward to him. The lift of her blade would give enough of a gap to bring her knee to snap upward toward his gut. Whether or not that landed, she'd continue to move in short bursts. Twisting and withdrawing her blade, pulling it back in close to twirl and deliver a horizontal chest-height strike.

Wyatt had given her an overview of the forms, and titles and nomenclature aside, Ataru was something she'd been practicing with whatever training resources she had available. The idea of finishing someone off quickly and not prolonging anything unnecessary was right up her ally. It also seemed to pair well with the athleticism already conditioned from typical melee combat.

 

[Placeholder 0128]

She'd been practicing.

He did well to keep his surprise from showing in his face when she did not crumble at his blade strike. Generally against a smaller opponent Cedric sought to dominate them through sheer physical strength to end the contest quickly, but sometimes they were skilled enough to utilize their agility. Loske was definitely in that camp.

That surprise gave Loske the opening to deliver her kick, sending a jolt of pain through the Imperator that he willed himself to ignore through grit teeth. He regained his composure quickly, his own blade shifting in close to his body as Loske blade swung. The Jedi Master grunted as he met her blade with his own. Rather than disengage, Cedric forced his blade upward and forward, aiming to force her own weapon up high and quickly to throw her off balance and make her stumble back. Had this been a real battle, he would've lowered his shoulder and charged her then and there.

Wouldn't do end the spar with possible broken bones though.

Instead he retained the defensive, adopting the old form of Soresu that he'd practiced since his earliest youth. Its short economical movements would serve quite well against Loske's aggressive style, or so he hoped.

Loske Treicolt

 

[Loske Treicolt]

Life is more than just a read-through.
​

He wedged and lifted astutely, and Loske had little strength to contest the direction the Jedi suggested. Having little option but to go with it, she relaxed her muscles to rise with the gesture. In lifting her, Cedric's angle had dipped slightly. Enough for her to quickly move. Her leg pressed against his temporarily, enough for her to get enough momentum to rotate and her risen shoulder rolled over his, the rest of her body following suit. Both feet off the ground as she leveraged her weightless self over his back. It was certainly a move reserved for the lithe. Shoulder to shoulder, she was soon on the other side of his person, dropped low in a crouch recovering from the acrobatic display, and for good measure, making a swipe at his ankles with her training blade.

The scolding of her paternal donor could be felt. He'd dub the gymnastics as a waste of energy, but Loske's adrenaline grew with the movements. The clairvoyance of The Force rallying to her vision, saturating her intentions with its will.

She was vibing now. Her self assurance came from the realization on Kiffu.

She'd been dubious of her Jedi Master. P Placeholder 0128 , bless his heart, had been incessant on her potential and progeny, but Loske had been meek and full of denial about her fortitude in The Force. Despite the treachery in the lab, the positives from her backward journey was seeing herself executing techniques she'd never thought possible. Seeing potential made her want to cultivate it. And while Cedric's physical didn't betray his surprise, and dare she suggest: delight - their metaphysical tether did.

In her crouched position, she afforded herself a satisfied grin, following through the movement of the strike.

What was that about pride before the fall?

 

[Placeholder 0128]

A maneuver Cedric had seen utilized by Sith Marauders in the midst of battle many times. Had he been in such a battlefield, he might have expected the movement. Loske was a bit of a surprise. He knew her abilities with the Force had grown tremendously, but it seemed she'd not shied on working on her bladework.

Loske would get a surprised huff as reward as she slipped behind him. Thinking fast, Cedric opted not to turn in face her, but rather let his body do as it willed. He felt the heat of her blade pass as he forced his limbs into actions, his legs pumping at the ground as he hopped a foot or so into the air - not high, but high enough to arc his body over the blade and send him forward a afew feet, safely out of his padawan's range.

There was a wide grin on Cedric's face as he whirled on her. "Well," he flourished his blade, "You actually got me there." There was pride in that smile. Pride, and the ingition of a light in Cedric's eyes that Loske had never had directed toward her before.

Loske was a challenge, and he was beginning to enjoy it.

The Blade of Ruusan whirred as he stomped forward, singing downward in a two-handed stroke that was intended to cleave the Kiffar in twain from shoulder to hip. Or it would have, had he not been aiming for the air in front of her in a feint, and instead whipped a cleave of telekinetic energy that terminated at the end of his weapon, flying through the air to strike her like an invisible hammer.

Loske Treicolt

 

[Loske Treicolt]

“And we’ve only just started.” She bantered back after he hop-skotched from her sweeping attack and adjusted his poise. Wyatt’s crass hit intonements had gotten to her, and she was doing her darnedest not to hear such suggestions of failure again. To Cedric’s credit, it was fair that he wasn’t assuming much from her. Prior to her unlocking a sense of self on Kiffu, she’d been clumsy with her sword. Not useless, but not necessarily innovative. Too focused on cataloguing the rhythmic teachings that were dispelled to her, no originality or fluidity imposed on them. After her jarring visit to the visionary past, her mother’d also assisted in giving her a few sparring tips -- hence the aggression evidenced in their dance amidst the tall blades of grass now.

The dialogue wasn’t meant to continue.

The stress was.

She was supposed to be stressed - and there’s nothing more alarming than someone running at you seeking to cut you in half. Or, at least make half of you go numb with a training blade. Her unrefined senses confirmed her visuals that there was a malicious intent behind the movement. She brought her blade up in reverse grip to contest with the downward slash she projected - but the movement flashed before her eyes. The assumed silhouette should have been closer, and heavier, but it never came. Instead, a metaphysical twist culminated in front of her and punched forward. That Force barrier P Placeholder 0128 had suggested did little to prevent the blow. She yelped her surprise, and felt the battering ram crunch against her torso and knocked her backward off her feet. The barrier helped only to give her the wherewithal to turn that into an arc and skid into the ground. If her blade had been at full Force, she’d have used it to slow her backward slide - alas. It was humming at a numbing level only.

The gap between them had grown, and Loske righted herself swiftly. Indeed, they’d only just begun. She took ownership of a charge, racing toward him again. With a single foot imprinted on the ground, she maneuvered in a twist that would bring a swiping upward motion of her blade, followed with what would be a round-house-kick.

 

[Placeholder 0128]

The clarity of combat taught Cedric more than any conversation ever could. One could not lie in battle, at least not without a fair amount of trickery. In this realm, he understood Loske better than ever before. The form she chose, the way in which she elected to dance her way through combat, it pertained as much to her personality as it did martial usefulness.

He waited for her to come at him, blade in both hands as he casually rolled it about, his body coiled in preparation for her next assault. That came in a swift rush that would have overwhelmed a more inexperienced opponent. Cedric stood his ground, his blade twisting low to clash with her own, bright sparks shooting off the gold and cyan blade.

He did not expect the kick that crashed directly into his back. It knocked the wind clean out of him, sending him stumbling forward before he caught himself on his heel, then another heavy stomp to right himself around to face her once more.

"You know you'd be a fantastic gymnast." He mused a he raised his lightsaber high. With a single decisive movement, the blade was flung toward Loske, though it would pass harmlessly over her shoulder. With a twitch of his finger, the blade would flip in its arc, coming back like a boomerang to try and clip Loske between the legs.

Loske Treicolt

 

[Loske Treicolt]

Circus
​

Unexpectedly, he dipped to meet with her angled attack. The cacophonous bark of their blades was not something she'd anticipated - but she rolled with it while her blade slid away from his, and she managed to land her follow-up assault, much to her delight. That was a feeling she was more comfortable with, human bodies colliding together in assault. The first evidence of any sort of talent from her was in hand-to-hand combat. Any tinge of guilt she felt from his winded response was overridden with the focus that he had years of real combat practice and had surely survived through much worse. Like her mom said, one day someone would try to kill her. She had to be better than them.

A flicker of amusement traced her lips and she shook her head when another handful of paces was spared between them once again. "I dunno." she offered a shrug in the moment's grace where she was able to catch her breath. "I hear being a circus performer can be quite in tents." It was as if P Placeholder 0128 's animosity toward wordplay manifested with his outburst, and she cackled proudly while an invisible, soundless, alert suggested she twist to the left. She did, and was thankful she'd tied her hair back. Even though it was on training mode, The Blade of Ruusan boasted heat enough to singe. Her self-preservation tuning was on high, and it told her relief was not deserved yet.

The kiffar-clone would have turned around, if she'd had time, but her ethereal ally suggested otherwise. It willed her to move. Not up, but down. She collapsed to a backward bridge with her twist to the left, her right hand with her own blade catching her against the ground. The palm cradling her sword touched against the grass while at the same time she reached up to intercept the incoming blade that had been meant for the back of her knees.

Its orbit was too intense and true, and while she managed to intercept it - it wasn't as cool as it had been in her mind's eye. The sizzle of cerulean slapped against her forearm and made her pull back with alarm at the instant numbing sensation that reverberated through to her shoulder. She hadn't dropped low enough. Her left hand snapped back toward her torso and she dropped to her right elbow, rolling back up and resuming a crouched stance, reverse grip active again while she shook her left hand with a furrowed brow, hissing at the agitation on her skin.

"Yerugh, and I was just about to suggest we don't use protection. Glad these are on training mode."

 

[Placeholder 0128]

"I'd rather keep you in one piece, all things considered." Cedric snickered as he stalked around her like a wolf regarding wounded prey. He was looking for an opening, though he wasn't keen on pressing it. As much as he might have enjoyed the contest, this was still very much a training spar. There wasn't much Loske was going to learn if he just bore down on her while she was down.

"Took a couple months to even get you to kiss me. I'd rather not have to spend another year trying to get another woman to pay attention to me," he offered her a playful smile, that competitive edge fading from his features for a moment in favor of warmth.

That would quickly fade as he free hand reached out, ethereal tendrils reaching even further to try and wrap around Loske's lightsaber and rip it from his fingertips to meet Cedric's open palm.

"I'll be taking that now."

Loske Treicolt