Private Long Nights, No Peace [Chaotic Ghostly Bi Time #1]

[Vyrien Paskal]

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LOCATION: Bosph
TIME: Past Midnight
TAGS: Aedrien
TUNES: Can't Sleep

The terror gripped him seemingly as soon as he had closed his eyes and allowed sleep to claim him, but it had been an approximate three hours, little more than a long nap, torturous and hardly restful. Awaking in that sweat, alone in the pitch blackness of his sparse abode welled up frustration as Vyrien wrested control of the rate of his breathing from the heavy feeling that threatened to swallow him, sitting upright in bed, while he overworked the vague images burned into his psyche, trying to make sense of it all until he gave up as he often did, and slipped out of bed, sleep once again becoming futile.

Ensuing moments were a sort of routine: going to stand over the fresher room sink to splash water on his face, as if this would break the 'spell'... finding a top and light footwear, and snatching up his katana on the way to the exit to spill out into the night air and work the grip of fear and heady frustration out of his body with katas ingrained in him as a boy, with only a gentle breeze and the softly swaying grasses keeping him company in the light of Bosph's dual moons, on a night that was warmer than expected.

After countless nights such as this, he was becoming tired of the same grasses, the same scenery regardless of the spot he chose to regain equilibrium, to the extent that he was considering a change of location, on top of his more pressing concerns; this fact was pushed out of his mind when he reached a suitable clearing, and began to build a flow through the familiar movements, a basic aspect of Lorka Paskal's teachings to his sons. It was one of the very few things that bought him a brief reprieve of limited days, if that, a coping mechanism that, aside from the familiarity being a reason, aside from the benefits of physical movement, he wasn't certain why it was this that worked, and more frustratingly, why it only freed him for such a short time; any relief was better than none, and so he and his blade sought the pittance of peace together, with a grace of movement that belied his inner state.

"I don't come out here," he hefted out with a breath, "in the dead of night," a sharp jab moved as liquid into a sweep, "to gain an audience."

Why... words, spoken to no-one, it would seem, but anyone with a reasonably developed sense of awareness could tell when they're being watched. Not that this stopped him and his blade in their concert of motion. He was not, however, in the right frame of mind to be particularly civil. Normally, Vyrien Paskal wouldn't be so blunt to an unknown person, but this wasn't normal. Or rather, he would rather it wasn't becoming as such. And it wasn't even that having an audience bothered him, per se... but again, nothing about this was normal.

"Or perhaps..." he resumed, in a brief pause in his movements, tone even as ever, "...you like what you see."

And so it went, man, blade, and inner turmoil.

​

 

[Aedrien]

Location: Bosph
Time: Late o'clock
Interacting: Vyrien Paskal

Aedrien wasn't one for sleep. For as long as she'd been a Jedi, meditation had been the way to go. Restful, in it's own right, and often void of whatever nightmares or boogeymen that the sandman brought with him. Not to mention it left her more aware of her surroundings, good for missions on her lonesome. And she was quite often alone, the concept of being a team player not quite instilled in the young knight.

And with being alone meant a fair deal of caution. When a wandering individual ventured close enough to ripple in her resting senses, the blond roused from her meditative state, taking stock of her surroundings. Nothing had slipped by undetected to mess with her belongings, it seemed. That was a plus. Still, she couldn't very well slip back to meditation without investigating the disturbance itself. And with an annoyed huff, she gathered her things, keeping lightsaber close at hand before moving towards the source.

She kept a respectable distance as the individual was in sight, not quite intending to make her presence known, though not particularly doing too much to hide it as she watched the other, also blond, run through the exercises. The more she observed, the more she was fairly confident she'd be fine if a fight broke out.

That was before he spoke, however. At first, she averted her gaze, acknowledging that yeah staring someone down in the dead of night wasn't perhaps the most polite move but also feeling the sting of embarrassment that came with being caught, even if hiding hadn't been her expressed intention. As the stranger continued, however, her face flushed, bristling in annoyance as the shift in gaze turned to glaring at the other. She hadn't been watching with any mind toward any preferences. Giving the other a quick once-over as if to answer the question he hadn't actually asked, however, her glare deepened.

"Yeah, well you got one," she said with a scoff, arms crossing over her chest, a brow raised as her countenance returned to a normal temperature. She could've left right then and there, not even bother with a response. But that would've allotted this stranger a 'win' in her book, and that was something she wasn't about to have, especially not after that last comment.

"Is your form why you practice at night?" she questioned, having known this individual for maybe thirty seconds yet already compelled by an intense distaste.

 

[Vyrien Paskal]

LOCATION: Bosph
TIME: O'Dark Stupid
TAGS: Aedrien

Nerves struck nerves, body and blade halting, and arms dropping to sides when she brought forth the beginning of her retort. His head turned half of the way that would be required to look on his disturber in full, finding another as pale as the light of the moons in his periphery, his breaths slowing after several minutes of sustained movement while she continued in her burning remarks, opting to needle his form. He turned his head and gaze away again, loosing a sigh that carried nothing but weariness. He was just as good at putting a cap on his emotional state as she was bad at reigning in her ire... usually.

"Such an uncultured ingrate," he spoke, little more than mouthing the insult, the calm of his words belied only by the faint edge to them that hadn't degraded enough by the time they hit air - as good as he was at veiling his inner state at will, the deficit of rest had its effects on this, on all things, "I don't suppose you are familiar with Atrisian katas, hm?"

Vyrien began to turn towards her, sheathing the blade. He had no interest in an unequal fight... one he could easily win.

"Each kata is only one piece of the entire form, and practising each such part, strengthens the whole. Disconnected, they are only individual strokes," and in some cases, it took only one stroke to end things, "and not indicative, per se, of how the practitioner would fare in a fight. You only had the pleasure of observing one kata."

He just stood there in the grasses facing her fully, pale gaze bearing down on the woman, visage stern and impassive. Only a roll of his shoulders and stretch of his neck due to the overall tenseness of his body formed a short grimace that vanished as he stood tall once again, one hand holding one wrist in front of him.

"Now... consider that I have practised each kata most of the days of my life, since the day I had the strength to hold a bokken as a young boy some three decades ago," he informed, sharply, "each movement is committed to muscle memory and has been used together to such great effect that I can stand here now, tolerating your ignorance."

He breathed deeply, in through his nose, held, and let the air escape through his mouth in a vaguely irritated manner. The air was colder than he thought, as his skin cooled from the lack of movement, and his jaw set at the mild chill.

"And know that my blade is fashioned such that it would not buckle under the energy of yours... but I have no interest in being responsible for a murder, let alone causing any bloodshed this night, so I would encourage you get a handle on yourself before doing anything else regrettable or childish."