Private Lightning in a Bottle

[Loske Treicolt]

"More like another year trying to get over me." She corrected hastily. The idea of herself being slain or chopped into bits was an image she wasn't particularly keen on continuing to project. Meanwhile, his disarming commentary resulted in real disarmament.

Her alert suggested there was a telekinetic something coming her way, and she tensed for another brush with an invisible punch. It manifested entirely differently though, and those tendrils contested with her grip only for the briefest of seconds. Awkwardly, she grappled with the invisible but panic overrode sensibility and her blade twisted through the air toward her master - but not of her own volition. Equipped with two blades, and she with none, felt way too reminiscent of her contention with Kiskla. Her mom was a Jar'Kai practitioner, and it was intimidating to see two glowing swords with the intention to maim. Not a scene she wanted to recreate.

In a contest of ethereal will, she gasped her urgency and extended her own hand to stay the trajectory of the hilt toward the Essonian. Her invisibly grip strained to reach the kyber crystal she'd infused with her own light, and it responded happily to her beckon. Or, at least it allowed her to touch it. It didn't come whirling back, instead, struggled in suspension between the two opposing pulls from either side.

From overhead, the birds found this rather anticlimatic. One lightsaber just...hovering in the air between two people.

P Placeholder 0128

 

[Placeholder 0128]

A moment of surprise flitted across Cedric's features as the lightsaber was held aloft. He felt a tug on the opposite end of things, and realization quickly dawned on him. "Honestly you're probably right," he agreed, offering her a light shrug as he debated on how best to do this. In the end he decided to pull harder, though not enough to wrench it from Loske's ethereal grasp.

He intended to make her pull just as hard.

"You ever shoot a rubber band at somebody?" Cedric asked casually, his hand suddenly dropping. As he did so, his own grip over the weapon would relinquish immediately, allowing the blade to fly back toward Loske at whatever speed she was currently yanking it with.

"Figure this is kind of like that."

The birds remained unenthused.

Loske Treicolt

 

[Loske Treicolt]

A rubber band? What? She was starting to answer the question when her eyes widened at the realization of the tug-o-war suddenly being dramatically one-sided. Uh oh!

The hand that had been pulling snapped back as the hilt whirled through the air. It's velocity was unaccounted for, and THWACK! Right in the forehead.

"Son of a murglak!" With a grimace, she stumbled backward as the disengaged hilt dropped unceremoniously to the grass. Both her hands reached up to cradle her impacted area, to dissuade the rise of swelling, and she frowned deeply and bent to pick up the weapon at her feet with a few more inaudible grumbles.

Okay, enough space between them. This was proving to be a contest of tricks. With her sword back in her grip, she focused on getting nearer first and foremost. Ataru may have been good for finishing someone off quickly, but Cedric wasn't so privy to exhaustion and being overwhelmed with volatile and unpredictable movements. At this pace, her best bet was to overwhelm him in a more intimate proximity. It'd only been with the tighter movements afore where he'd applauded her actually getting P Placeholder 0128

What was the name of that one to contest against other duelists?

Oh right.

​

“Makashi I often use for one on one duels, things that require finesses. If there are plenty of bystanders, it is often the best choice for saving collateral damage - but also works in ship hallways against others. It was designed for that reason, to fight lightsaber duelists.”, he offered before switching to a tight, defensive position.​

​

Within a flash, red forehead and all, she was close enough to make fluid cuts rather than her preliminary swooping swipes from afore. The first was merely a gesture of the blade tip toward his shoulder. If/when that was bat away, there'd be a follow up of left and right parries in rapid succession. In the footwork, she'd make attempts to step forward and push him back.

Slightly selfish, but it was one of her lesser practiced forms, and she was seeking to improve.

 

[Placeholder 0128]

It was difficult to fight the urge to laugh - so much so that Cedric very loudly snorted. He hadn't been certain if the maneuver would have the desired effect, but he'd figured the chances were high enough to give it a try. Luck rewarded the bold.

"Part of me feels like I should apologize for that." His brow furrowed as Loske closed the distance. "But the other part of me really doesn't want to." She moved quick: faster than he'd anticipated. For a moment his eyes widened as his own blade, longer and consequentially less maneuverable, dipped to catch what looked to be her opening strike. Soresu accounted well in situations like these. The should blow was blocked with little force, the second strike quickly met with a twisting of the blade in the opposite direction to meet her own, the second strike its mirror.

As well as he managed to repel the strikes, it was clear that Loske had the momentum. He was forced to remain on the defense, taking a few begrudging steps back as they engaged in hopes of finding the upper hand.

Loske Treicolt

 

[Loske Treicolt]

Tight, controlled waves directed her aim. Left, right, left, right, the angle adjusted only a few degrees each time while P Placeholder 0128 parried. Up, down, up, down. They were following a single line now, shifting only backward and forward while she directed the dance floor motions. A contrast to the Chandrilan druggie boogie.

While Makashi was a controlled technique, it's idling protection didn't suit the aggression she felt more comfortable manifesting. Their upper halves were occupied with mapping the trajectory of each strike, ensuring they were deflected and jabbed respectively. Incalculable moments passed with gestures of these natures, and she realized opportunity at this level was for nought.

Advantage would be in that footwork.

Keeping Cedric on the defensive, she continued to press forward in their established line. Without warning, she quickly relieved her one blade and gave a twist to get momentum down to her lower half and deliver a stomping kick- her heel seeking his talus while the finishing tight twist brought her blade around horizontally to snip at his chest if he didn't fall.

 

[Placeholder 0128]

Whatever misconceptions he might have had about Loske's abilities had faded away. She was as capable an opponent as any other, if not a bit rough in her execution, and he would pay the respect that such made due. He recognized the rhythmic maneuvers of Makashi, a form some of his greatest rivals had specialized in. It wasn't one very popular among the Jedi these days, but that would work to Loske's advantage. Most Sith never had to deal with it - that lack of experience would be their demise.

For Cedric's part, he was holding himself quite well. Loske continued to steadily gain ground, though at this point Cedric was keen to let her have it. The more time he could buy himself, the better he could memorize her movements. Most combatants tended to favor a pattern whether they knew it or not, and patterns could be exploited.

Just as he was beginning to pick apart the puzzle, Loske decided to stomp him. Pain shot up the Jedi's leg as he reeled back. His other foot stomped back, halting his fall, which only brought him right into Loske's blade.

An open hand thrust forward, catching the golden beam as if it were a solid object. Cedric's fingers enclosed around it, the empyrean's energies pouring from his limbs into his hand, acting as a tiny invisible barrier that dispersed the energies of the lightsaber before they could singe the flesh.

Tutaminus was a hell of an ability.

"Nice stomp," Cedric grimaced, "My turn." he added as he brought his own knee up hard toward Loske's midriff.

Loske Treicolt

 

[Loske Treicolt]

I wanna flex, I wanna show off
and I got in a fight
​

Coloured impressed, Loske had never seen Tutaminus in action. She'd briefly seen herself executing something similar, but the consumption of a blaster bolt, and she had no idea how to recreate that moment until Cedric did it in their intimate proximity. The evidence of the technique sent a triggering waved of recollections through her conscious. Distracted with the marvel showcased by the Jedi Master, she could only grimace at the jarring of her blade. With her reverse grip, it was akin to him stopping a punch. All momentum that had been meant to damage her opponent rippled back through her shoulders. His confidence was without pause, and the calmness in his expression revealed nothing about the calamity he sought within this spar.

Temporarily distracted by her own awe-struckness, the only indication she got about another direction was his snide banter. She had to take the hit. His knee met the tenderness of her abdomen, an area that had seen way too much action since becoming a Jedi, and the wind dispelled from her lungs. Her position dropped, but he still held her blade.

How could she turn this into an advantage? Do more than just roll with the punches...especially against a bigger opponent?

With the momentum of his kick, and her doubling over, she was falling in toward him. Quickly, she depressed the switch that controlled the power source of her blade. It deactivated, withdrawing the insulated luminescence P Placeholder 0128 had been boasting his prowess over. She had that hand back! Teräs Käsi took over at this range with a modified, lower centre of gravity (thanks to the kick) Rancor Rising - and that hand moved to snake under his armpit and grip just behind (although still clutching the lifeless hilt). Her former movement followed through and she crunched herself forward, angling her shoulder into his sternum and generally moving with the momentum he forced her into while she was still pretty much gasping for air. Adrenaline was more her friend at this point than oxygen.

Meanwhile, the kick and Makashi had set her up to have her left foot pressed into the earth, and her right foot was mobile. Still balancing her movements with the fact he'd sent his knee as a pile drive into her stomach. Loske's left hand reached to contend with his blade-heavy arm. While she attempted to grapple with his torso and push him downward as she was, her right foot looped around and locked behind his left leg and she rotated her hip into his side somewhere in the region between the gluteus and hamstring. All set up and on the go, she applied the strength required to take him down.

If she found success in this, she'd end up crouched over the Jedi Master on his back. If otherwise, well, it was up to him what sort of situation she'd be rendered in then. A pretty equal vulnerability once someone swapped sparring to tussling.

 

[Placeholder 0128]

There was a lot of grappling going on lately. Maybe it’d pay to learn a little Teräs Käsi at some point.

Channeling the force into a barrier small and focused enough to fend off a lightsaber blade was a taxing affair. All his concentration went into maintaining that energy field, and Loske’s next action was unexpected.
Cedric was used to fighting Sith, and Sith operated on rage. Toggling a lightsaber was something they generally didn’t think to do, especially when so close to victory as to have their opponent barely holding the blade off. Unfortunately for Cedric (or maybe a little fortunately) when Loske’s lightsaber went out, he lost all control over the situation.

The Essonian tumbled back in her death grasp, eyes wide as he began to process what had just happened.

“People don’t usually toggle their lightsabers. That’s kind of mything.” He protested, though that quickly gave way to a coy smirk. Bound as he was, Cedric could only hold his hands up in surrender.
“You got me,” the smirk grew. There was a temptation to try and fight back, but Cedric was keen on a little thought experiment. That and the other temptations that presented themselves. “If this is how you subdue people in the field I might get a little jealous.”

 

[Loske Treicolt]

Success! Loske now had her breath taken away by the pain in her stomach and surprise. The imbalance in their mass and momentum meant she hit the ground alongside her teacher - especially since she hadn't been totally prepared for him to fall to her wiles. Their legs had been temporarily tangled, but the result was her straddling his hips and an arm almost crushed behind his back, an oafish groan manifesting at the discomfort which she quickly wrangled back and straightened her back, giving her wrist a rub.

Her face lit up at his coy defensiveness around the move she'd made that had kickstarted her victory.

"We can say I learned it from you." She offered, dropping the heels of her hands to the grass above either of his shoulders while he gestured surrender, giving her the vantage point to observe him victoriously. The statement was partly true - she’d not be able to truly contest without his guidance. Cedric's training was rooted in depth and strategy- giving her reason and explanation alongside showmanship and suggestion. It was an excellent combination with the infusion of her paternal donor's affinity for exposing other people's trickery and turning it against them.

P Placeholder 0128 's second spree of commentary triggered the spread of a roguish grin that evaded her attempt to diffuse it. She hadn’t contended with any real threat on a battlefield yet, but she highly doubted she’d have this level of success. The intent had been to expose him in a compromising position, but turned out she'd just put herself in one too. No objections - it would be a lie to say she hadn’t been thinking about their terminated intimacy on Chandrila while apart. “You’ve got me too.” Reassurance bled into her banter. She was a knot of leashed desires that were becoming frayed and worn from a timeline of distance, imagination and temptation that threatened to snap. Their mutual decision had been made, it was a matter of how now - and Cedric gave her no cause for second-guessing.

Her body rocked to hover lower, drawing her nose threateningly near his and that mirrored simper spread further ear to ear “--Aaand I don’t think they’d tap out so readily.” Particularly poised, she had the last word and traced her lips against his own in a triumphant kiss.

Finally, the birds overhead chirped - the level of their amusement indistinguishable from any other chirping noise they could make.

 

[Placeholder 0128]

“Probably not, no,” Cedric relented. Admittedly he could have given Loske a far better fight. We’re it not for the nature of their relationship, he would have continued to give as good as he got. As things were, he was more than content to admit defeat in exchange for Loske’s affections.

To say there had been a tension to things was a bit of an understatement. Their relationship thus far had been a game of cat and mouse, with one occasionally pushing the bounds of the other without actually crossing any important line. Cedric has always preferred it that way - despite what he might have seemed, the Essonian was a bit of a court romantic. The careful dalliances of nobles had been his education in dealing with these sort of feelings, but now he was at a place where experience would be no guide.

Privately Cedric wished he’d asked for advice on what to do once you got the girl all over you. He supposed he’d have to wing it.

The kiss was returned with equal enthusiasm as he drew his arms about her lithe form. Not for the first time he ruminated in just how little he deserved Loske, and how he’d given up on all hope of finding such a connection with another person. Death had been his sole destination, but as skin pressed to skin and his hands ran through her blonde locks, he realized that the eagerness with which he’d chased it had faltered. There was something to live for beyond duty and vengeance now.
He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. Whatever further ruminations he might have had were banished as he drew back, his lips pressing into a warm smile. “If I didn’t know you better I’d think you were trying to seduce me.” His voice was low, “Of course we both know someone of your virtue would never do such a thing.” The sarcasm was thicker than honey.

 

[Loske Treicolt]

I won't try to fight it, don't feel like it.​

Some time ago, a combination of self preservation and boredom had caused Frank to tread back in the direction Cedric had come from as soon as the duo’s lightsabers came out. He had no interest in being cleaved through the circuits today, and left the two to their own devices.

Excited trembles coursed through her system at his embrace and when he pulled back for a break she evidenced a small, semi-amused smile and a shake of her head. Her mouth still tingling from the electric exchange.

“Careful,” she warned coyly, bopping a finger to the tip of his nose before tracing it back down his neck and stopping at his robes’ collar, tugging it toward her slightly. “You keep talking about my virtue and you might mind trick me out of chapters one and two of the Jedi handbook.”

She gave him enough time to respond if he wanted to. Turned out today’s lesson would indeed be about pushing limits - although they seemed to be taking a turn for the physical rather than ethereal. Rather than a student of The Force, her grip on reality was fading to become a student of geography, if P Placeholder 0128 was the territory. His robes were the first layer the newfound archaeologist had to dust away, but she sought to distract him from her fumbling machinations with an entrapping kiss once again. Her palms moved to interact with the newly exposed skin, but felt something much colder to the touch than she’d expected. So as not to seem too alarmed, she adjusted to put more weight on her knees and heighten her perch to see what she was feeling. Sewn amidst his flesh was plating. Tenderly, she drew a finger along the border of invisible stitching moulding together machine and man.

Quietly, she lifted her eyes to meet his; “Hoth?”

Remarkably, despite arriving on his doorstep shortly after his medical team had reassembled him, she’d never seen him exposed with the result of the doctor’s efforts. It didn’t look like it hurt anymore, but it was still a solemn reality of another difference they shared. Cedric’s nose had been broken, his body bore scars and remedies required for a warrior. A reminder that this faux win was entirely undeserved -- but also a stark contrast to her own physique. Not only was there a lack of experience from a holistic perspective, but Loske’s duties had been within the protection of a cockpit. The only marring she bore was the stretching scar on her abdomen - from the blade of the Meriphrium’s disciple.