Duel Manners [Kyyrk]

[Mishel Kryze]

O S S U S
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Away from the Praxeum, Mishel asked Kyyrk to follow her. "Since it seems you enjoy the idea of interrupting gatherings." She turned toward him and gestured toward his weapons. "Draw your blade, let us see who and what you truly are because I'll admit ever since that day on Naboo. Something's been bothering me about you." As the words of her brother Kyrel Ren Kyyrk was and felt off as if he too were an abomination within the Force. The Force whispered words of truth and Mishel narrowed her gaze as she drew the blade. ​

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Ossus's ghosts whispered around them, trees that did live scarcely rustled, and the ground beneath them was mostly bare. It held the scars of war, the horrors of death and destruction the silence of those gone before their time. "Come, let me see how the Confederacy truly teaches its Force Users, or do they all sit so heavily upon a gilded throne built on the ruins of others?" It wasn't that she held so high of an opinion of the Confederacy. It was that the nation had grown fat with content, and corruption it may as well have mirrored the Sith Empire. She was surprised the New Imperials and the Galactic Alliance hadn't already swarmed down on a crusade against the Sith who were harbored here. ​

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Kyyrk ​

 

[Kyyrk]

D U E L
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Kyyrk had followed the woman, if only out of respect for her sister. They walked together through the broken fields and ashen remnants of wars long past. Remnants of a war Kyyrk had fought in. When he first came to Ossus, it was as an invader. A destroyer. Now? He was here as a student. Seeking guidance on his path of repentance. A path he was set on, even if only he could see it. "Since it seems you enjoy the idea of interrupting gatherings." A hand was lifted in the direction of the blade upon his shoulder. "Draw your blade, let us see who and what you truly are. Because I'll admit ever since that day on Naboo. Something's been bothering me about you."

Kyyrk arched a brow. They were far enough away that Alessandra Creed wouldn't know what was going on, far enough out that if the woman decided to gut him, he'd be on his own. She proposed it as an honor duel, in line with cultures such as the Mandalorians or Echani. One of those made sense for the woman. The other, not so much. Neither of them made sense from a Jedi. Kyyrk's garb, while not as imposing as his normal armors, offered a decent degree of protection. But it also did not offer him the normal advantages. "Learn what you must, but I cannot show you what you seek."

The mans actions confirmed his acceptance of what was to come. Even if he did not approve, he would not attempt to talk his way out of this. "The Confederacy is but a cairn along a great path, not the source of the path itself. Much the same as the Praxium." As he spoke, he withdrew something from his belt. His words were laced with poetry, but his meaning was still clear: The Confederacy had not taught him, much the same as the Praxium had not taught Mishel. His hand raised to show a simple strip of cloth grasped within his fist. He took both ends, and lifted it to his face, wrapping his eyes and blinding him to the physical world. "In my day, the Jedi were quick to strike down that which did not conform. Have the Jedi changed? Or do they still seek corruptions of their own design?"

His right arm reached behind him, and his saber was drawn, blade unlit, held low to his waist so that the blade would spring to life at the small of his back. His right foot stepped back, settling the man into a ready stance. His cybernetic left hand raised with fingers splayed, arm outstretched towards Mishel. "Come then, Jedi. Do what you must."

Mishel Kryze

 

[Mishel Kryze]

O S S U S
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"That," she began, "is your first mistake."​

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The assumption that she was a Jedi was a failure on his part. Mishel's own lightsaber ignited revealing its white blade the angled crossguard hilt a throwback to her days as a Knight of Ren. The days when she, Ara, Kaalia Pavanos , and Kyrel were tossed to the wolves at Mustafar, Bespin, Hoth, Mustafar, and Anoat. When the Galactic Alliance proclaimed itself the cause of good but had in truth been corrupted - and as it was recently revealed, it seemed the Galactic Alliance had failed to learn its history and thus repeated it. ​

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She studied the man in front of her, he came with his leathers and as it once was told to her - if you had to rely on special gizmos and gadgets, then in truth you do not embrace the Force and are folly to your own pride. His garb was nothing more than this. He motioned for her to come hither but Mishel only smiled, "you realize that keeping secrets is no different than lying, correct?" ​

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For all the faults of Seiger Ren, there was one thing that he always was, honest. ​

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When he meant to do something, he did it.​

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"You cannot compare the Praxeum with the Confederacy." She continued quietly thinning the air around them, "for the Praxeum teaches, and it nurtures. The Confederacy is nothing but a bloated corpse of power and corruption. No different than the Galactic Alliance or the New Imperial Order, rather - at the very least the New Imperial Order doesn't lie about what it is. Neither do the Maw, but the Confederacy... Well."​

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The air grew thinner still, colder even.​

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"Not even the Confederacy knows what it is, and thus it stands for nothing."​

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"Whatever goodness it had, died a long time ago, with Tellu."​

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She readied her stance and smirked as frost quietly grew along the ground, a trick she learned from Master Talon herself. Mishel had been aching in wanting to use it. Use the very power some old Dark Eldorai used on her back on Skor II. ​

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Kyyrk ​

 

[Kyyrk]

D U E L
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As Mishel's blade ignited, so did Kyyrk's. His own blade, much the same as Mishel's, was a brilliant, pure white. He stepped back as the woman settled in to her stance, offering some kind of taunt about the the Confederacy, and of not being a Jedi. Kyyrk's brow furrowed. The Jedi part was expected. He'd read of Mishel in a handful of reports, but he knew better than anyone that such documents could not be considered reliable. Not when someone was trying to truly understand a person. "In Victory, they were blinded. In success they grew complacent." His blade spun around to point directly at Mishel. Both a warning and a defense. Kyyrk's body turned sideways to hers, and he slowly walked around the woman, circling her in anticipation. "For how long will the Praxeum stand as your golden ideal, I wonder? How long until it too succumbs to entropy and decay?"

Kyyrk spoke as a being who had seen the rise and fall of countless nations before, and would see again. When he spoke of the Praxeum falling, he did not speak as though HE would be the one to destroy it. But rather, he spoke as an observer guessing at a most likely outcome. "Though I find your apathy telling. You and I are both guilty of the same sin. Through our inaction, the corpse has consumed all. If everything good of the Confederacy died with Tellu, is her memory then worthless?" Kyyrk was sure his words were likely to anger the woman. But it was the truth. If the good of the Confederacy was allowed to die with the old master, then in the eyes of any who had once valued Tellu's guidance the fight was not worth carrying.

But Kyyrk was not here to condemn Tellu, Mishel, or the Confederacy. Though he was still tempted of the latter. He had, after all, had a hand in its complacency. A sin he had spent years trying to correct. The downfall of the Knights had shown the Miraluka just how blind he truly was. He had hoped that under the guidance of the wolf, they could rise again. But the catalyst for such a change had yet to appear. "With but a single rock, one can start a landslide. Even the greatest of change begins with a single step. I wonder. Are you brave enough to join me in that step? Or have you, too, grown complacent. Willing to laugh at the efforts of a wayward soul, feebly attempting to enact a much needed change?"

Mishel Kryze

 

[Mishel Kryze]

O S S U S​

"The Praxeum is not my golden standard, for once again, you make an assumption of me that is wrong. I wonder how long you will continue to do so," she remarked with a smirk and let him walk around her. She watched his 'fancy moves' as if he had spent all his time binge-watching Sor-Jan Xantha 's Corellian Digital Animation Marathons. He was she thought, laughable at best, but that was her alter ego speaking. "The only entropy and decay that remains here, are those who let it. Are those who hide behind their secrets their lies. Dishonesty does no one any good, and one cannot claim to stand with the light if they continue to hide in their secrets."

Frost continued to grow along the ground and Mishel almost casually walked opposite of Kyyrk, her white blade at the ready. "Telling of what, I wonder." She thought aloud and looked at him her hazel-green eyes stood still for a moment and then she shifted her gaze away. "Tellu's memory lives on, but a memory is neither worthy nor worthless - it is but a memory and to place value on it would be to misplace one's step. To alter your purpose for that of another, and thus it is such - only a memory." Still, her smile did not waver, she did not get angry she was unnaturally calm something that those close knew to her was a danger. Then, she supposed this man would pretend to have all the answers even when he had none. He came across as many did, boastfully confident but having nothing more to back it up but their words she wondered when he would strike.

When his impatience would due him in.

The frost on the ground spread sweeping around Mishel and Kyyrk as the air continued to thin, it would feel as if they were high upon the Mountains. "You make the mistake once again, that I wish to join you in anything." She reminded him, "you are no friend to me. Rather, those who decide that they must continue to keep secrets, and claim to stand for something - truly stand for nothing. For how can one say to be one item, and hide a contradictory one away?"

"You cannot, not without becoming a hypocrite."

She shrugged, "you may call me complacent but this is your word, not mine. You are not a wayward soul, for... if this were true, you and I would not be standing here." Mishel's calmness remained, she knew the taunts and the methods. It was the only time she was ever grateful for Kyrel's own taunts and how they drew her ire when she was younger. She almost laughed at this man's attempts. "No, I gather there is a goal for you to achieve one far more deceitful than you've let on thus far." Trees around them began to bend, fold away from the circle in which they walked.

Kyyrk ​

 

[Kyyrk]

D U E L
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Mishel had told Kyyrk all he needed to know. Her stubbornness, her inability to entertain another line of thinking, proved her to be just another pawn in a larger game. One that very clearly held a newly harbored grudge against him. The beauty of manipulating people lay in its utter simplicity. Particularly the zealots. So narrow was their world view, there was no room for deviation. So willing were they to enact their view upon the world that they would correct perceived deviation without hesitation. If Kyyrk spoke the truth? They would not argue. If he spoke false? They would not hesitate to correct him.

Funny how easy it was to learn who stood across from you.

She challenged the fact that his goal was more deceitful than he was letting on. If she was so desperate to cast light into the shadows, then so be it. He would not stand in her way. But, her twisted morality was getting the better of her. Borne of a desire to "Be the better person," she was refusing to attack him. Definitely a Mandalorian in clan only. Kyyrk could think of several that would have shot her on sight just for the continued use of the name without any reverence of their creed. She was the one that sought this fight, not him.

She was the one that desired blood.

And so he would wait. He was patient. He had lived a hundred years, and existed for thousands more.

He was nothing if not patient.

"Enough time has been wasted by trade of words. Display your wrath or depart, woman."

Mishel Kryze

 

[Mishel Kryze]

O S S U S
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"If you insist." Mishel only smiled, he demanded that she attack. It was only fair, she dragged him this far out. Mishel watched the snow that fell - fell in this single area. The floor beneath her feet, beneath his feet, had now become more than covered in frost and the snow would only collect now. The trees that were bent away from them snapped back up. Sitting upright as if nothing had happened but the cracks in their bark were visible they were held only because Mishel willed them to be. "I wonder how it is you can stand there, wearing something that is made with Sith alchemy and still proclaim yourself as... what was it? Oh yes. You accused me of complacency and implied that you were willing to make a change, a single step, no?"​

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"I wonder if this single step is self-serving, and while you continue to flap the air between your gums. You seem to have failed to comprehend or acknowledge your surroundings." There was something a little too happy in her voice and with her blade still drawn she took a step back as the treetops and branches came shooting down forming with the aim to form a barrier around the man before her. They would quickly form up like bars in a cell, and the frost quickly grew around them and the cold wind shot through their circle. Binding them, and this wasn't to say a permanent thing no. Mishel expected he would break out of it, although she wondered how he could use the Force while wearing such armor. "You know nothing about me, you continue to make your assumptions because I do not fit neatly into any of your boxes, your labels."​

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"You are a liar, a manipulator, and you are no agent of the light," she walked around him. The frost on her breath appeared as she spoke, "you know nothing of me, and yet you had the audacity to speak to me as if we were equals. As if we were friends who had known each other for years, we are not." She made the motion with her hand that would ordinarily crumble whatever was in her hand but instead the trees and ice along their branches that formed spears sharper than natural would now move in on him threatening to injure him there on the spot. ​

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Kyyrk ​

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