Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Private On Slippery Slopes


"You dropped me,"

"You gotta learn to fall--" his words trailed off at the loud blast of a sniper bolt hitting the ground near her feet. "Lia, here. Fast!" he yelled, leaping to the cover of a nearby wall at the intersection and raising a force barrier to cover her back as she withdrew.

The Knight allowed her to rest on him for support, unaware of her brewing mischief. "For the last time - we need to go. You need proper training when we get back to Coruscant."

Something we all lacked growing up.

Jem Fossk Jem Fossk
 
"Fine! Fine," she grumbled, peering back over the wall they had retreated to. The street continued to remain empty. She sighed in disappointment, her grip on his saber hilt slowly letting off. Maybe there was something else they could do elsewhere. Directionless and frankly reaching, Jem shoved off him.

"I can't believe this is it. What-- we come all this way for a five minute scuffle? The reports say--" She blinked hard, her frustrated features turning indignant in an instant. She dug deeper into the cover he had secured them. They were not moving out.

"What do you mean proper training? I am trained."
 

Five minute scuffle?? I've been chasing him for months--

"What do you mean proper training? I am trained."

The question interrupted his thoughts like a freighter. He wasn't really thinking of taking her under his wing, right? He couldn't possibly carry that responsibility, can he? The Stygian Campaign seemed to oddly pale in comparison but a glance at her and Dagon knew she was on a fast track to get herself killed.

He couldn't let that happen.

Not after all the blood they had paid in the war.

"In swinging a saber, maybe but that's not all there is to it." he said, "...I can teach you what I know."

Pulling her by the collar of the tunic, he added, "On Coruscant."

They were moving out.

Jem Fossk Jem Fossk
 
Jem double-took, the hem of her collar tugging her along. Just like that the resistance was gone and she was doing everything she could to stay on her feet and keep pace. It continued for a solid moment, until a very awkward turn brought her to her senses.

"Alright, alright," she protested, jerking her neck free. She huffed and shot him a look, walking forward with a bit more dignity as they kept to the street carts and building alcoves.

"Are you talking, like, just a class or..."

A deep breath of trepidation.

"Will you take me out on the next one?"
 
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Dagon wasn't sure what exactly to answer; there was a divergence between what she clearly needed and what he believed he could provide. Some old fool somewhere had said do or do not, there is no try. Really made things simple in perspective.

"You need more than just a class, Lia." he said, then reiterated the point, "You nearly got yourself killed fifteen minutes ago." it was quite ironic coming from the mouth of the guy who felt most alive living on the edge.

To the latter part of her question, the Knight gave her no answer. It depended on a multitude of variables but throwing her against someone like Letifer was a no-go that was certain. She did have the spirit for it, that was certain, and to Dagon that was most important - you can't teach that.

Jem Fossk Jem Fossk
 
She held every protest in, pressing the indignation against the roof of her mouth. She barely dared to breathe as the knight lead her away, every pained and awkward step reinforcing the statement she didn't want to acknowledge.

You need more than just a class.

The insinuation hung in the air.

"Does that mean... you're thinking about... becoming my master?" Calm. Cool. Collected. She tried her best to play the part of the level headed padawan, but her voice squeaked with all her contained apprehension. She stumbled to keep up at his side, eyes wide with desperation as she tried to get a read on his face. She could feel his indecisiveness. It hung like a noose over her head.

Please don't say no. She had never wanted something so badly in her life.
 


"Mentor." he corrected her instinctively, unsure what the difference was - perhaps a way to cope with the responsibility. "...mentor, master, same thing. Just so you don't end up killing yourself." he was talking but his mind was elsewhere already, fully focused on getting them out of the War Camp without attracting further attention. And the less time he spent thinking on what he'd just signed himself up for - the better.

Jem Fossk Jem Fossk
 

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