Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Faction Pick and Roll




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GAHR Training Center, Vendaxa


The Grand Army of the High Republic had instituted a new training center for it's infantry and combat units on Vendaxa- a brutal world, making the weakest, softest of troops into fighting shape in record time. Lieutenant Atham Harek, a short while ago, was whipped from party-boy richboy into a stout fighting man! As such, he had returned to Vendaxa to conduct a nasty bit of business on his own time- as well as extending a begrudging invitation to the pesky Jedi.

He approached the mat with careful diligence, clasping his hands together as he observed the symphony of destruction cascading around him. They were practicing grappling- a lost art in today's galaxy. But faced with bigger, stronger opponents, a good grapple would give a soldier the advantage of a lifetime! And hopefully, cut the enemy's lifetime by a significant margin. Atham had been a successful wrestler back on Naboo- winning many regional, and even one, planetary title.

He had developed a program for his own troops, a mix of Hapan, K'Tara, Clench Fighting, and the Forbelean Defense to ensure that his troops had the best outcome if presented with a close-quarters combat scenario. The result was a martial art that relied on throws, chokes, and body slamming, and removing balance from an opponent. It would work well on an armed opponent as well as an unarmed opponent.

He led the group around in a circle, and then asked for a volunteer.

"One leg, they can still fight- so, we step in..." He slid on his knee, gliding across the mat. His right hand went around his opponent's left leg, towards her calf. His left hand, wrapped around her upper thigh. "I pull in tight to myself, and stand up... she goes off balance." He said, standing up, pushing into her hips. His volunteer shifted, but remained standing. He took one hand off, slapping his back leg. "So I take this leg, brace it on the outside-" And he braced himself, further spreading out his stance. "And with my other, I sweep her poor, helpless last leg." He said, turning her, and doing just so. With a quick swipe of his right foot, his opponent was knocked square onto her back. He let her fall, to emphasize the noise.

"Try that. Be careful not to hurt each other, after all, you're all very expensive to the Republic." He stood up, watching the class practice the grappling technique, spar, or just figure out how to move their awkward bodies. He was going to go around, teaching here and there, but mainly correcting and observing. He'd also teach a few other tricks as the lesson went on.




 
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Shade's first impression of Vendaxa was not visual.

It was the way the air settled in her lungs, heavy and abrasive, unforgiving in a way that made even standing still a conscious act rather than a passive one. Heat clung without apology, carrying grit that caught at the back of her throat and settled against exposed skin like a reminder that comfort had not been factored into this place's design.

She adjusted her breathing without breaking stride.

The GAHR Training Center rose out of the terrain like a functional scar, all hard lines and reinforced structure, built to endure rather than inspire. Whatever Vendaxa was meant to teach, it was clear from the outset that the lesson would not be gentle. Shade crossed the threshold without hesitation, her presence quiet, her attention immediately outward.

The sounds reached her first.

Impact against mats. Controlled exhalations. The dull, instructive thud of bodies meeting ground. Not chaos, but strain. Effort measured in repetition rather than spectacle. She slowed just inside the training hall, letting her eyes adjust, letting herself take in the rhythm before stepping further.

Her gaze moved deliberately across the room.

Soldiers in varying states of proficiency worked through a grappling exercise, some confident, others visibly struggling to reconcile instruction with execution. Footwork faltered. Balance broke. Corrections came swiftly. No one was coddled. No one was ignored.

At the center of it stood the instructor.

Shade did not recognize Lieutenant Atham Harek by name at first, but she recognized competence when she saw it. The way he demonstrated the technique spoke of lived experience rather than theory. Efficient entry. Controlled grip. Leverage favored over strength. She watched the slide on the knee, the leg capture, the transition into imbalance, noting how the motion denied the opponent recovery rather than relying on force to overwhelm them.

When the volunteer hit the mat, the sound was sharp and instructive.

Shade's eyes narrowed slightly, not in judgment, but focus. The form was practical. Adaptable. Designed to function under less than ideal conditions, which judging by the planet pressing in on all sides, seemed to be the point.

She moved to the edge of the training space and stopped there, posture straight without rigidity, hands resting loosely behind her back. Her attire was civilian and functional, chosen for movement rather than presence. Her hair was braided tightly down her back, controlled and deliberate, a habit rather than a statement.

She did not interrupt while the class practiced.

Instead, she watched how Atham corrected his trainees, where he placed his emphasis, how quickly he intervened when a mistake could turn into injury. Vendaxa, she realized, was not teaching them to be elegant. It was teaching them to survive pressure.

When the moment allowed, when the class had broken into repetition, and the instructor's attention was no longer fixed on the demonstration, Shade stepped forward just enough to be clearly present without drawing attention.

Her voice carried calmly, even in tone, pitched to be heard without demanding attention.

"Lieutenant Harek," she said, recognition rather than challenge.

Her gaze met his briefly, steady and professional.

"This is my first time on Vendaxa," Shade continued, her tone measured, observational rather than impressed. "But I can see why it was chosen. The environment does not permit hesitation."

She glanced once toward the trainees, several of whom were still working to stabilize their footing.

"The technique you are teaching favors control and balance over force," she added. "That choice will matter here."

Only then did she incline her head slightly. Not deference. Not authority. Simply acknowledgment.

"I am Shade," she said simply. No title offered. No embellishment. "I was invited to observe."

A pause followed, brief and intentional.

"And if you allow it," she concluded, eyes returning to the mat, "I would like to participate once they have had time to internalize the mechanics. I learn more by pressure testing a form than watching it succeed under ideal conditions."

She did not assume approval.

She waited.

Still. Focused. Taking Vendaxa in piece by piece, and already adapting.

Atham Harek Atham Harek
 
Location: Vendaxa - GAHR Training Facility
Outfit: Jedi Attire
Tag: Shade Shade

Initially Lily had disregarded the invitation for the training that was being offered by Atham. She had seen enough of the style of soldier he was when they crossed paths on Naboo. It was not someone that she thought highly of, and she doubted would appreciate the efforts made by Jedi to work together, to continue to demonstrate the warrior respect that Lily showed all soldiers that she had previously worked with when fighting on the front lines. However, the more that she thought on the matter, the more that she realised it would be unfair and rude to allow a singular encounter to shape her entire view on a person.

First impressions were lasting but they were not respective of a person, nor should they be allowed to prevent a person from changing those views.

Therefore, Lily decided to accept the invitation. Seeing how a person fought, how they taught others how to fight, Lily found that much more revealing of a person's character than mere words. So, Lily made the preparations to travel to Vendaxa. She approached the training facility and breathed in the air deeply, "open mind, Lily. That is what we want." She murmured to herself as she approached the facility. It would also be good to see how the average soldier trained and perhaps consider what she could do to help train them. Given that she had learned how to fight as an Echani well before she learned anything connected to the Force.

Entering the training room, she watched as Atham began his demonstration. Showing the moves with his volunteer, clean movements and he seemed keen on moving slowly to allow the trainees to understand how important one's positioning and movements were in the technique. Lily was impressed, it was all solid. Then someone approached, introducing herself as Shade to Atham and seemed all too keen on observing as well as actively taking part in the lesson. Which was why Lily was surprised that the soldier seemed so aggressively dismissive of them. As if Lily was missing something from the encounter to explain such aggressive language to be used.

Letting out a sigh, Lily moved towards Shade and gave a bow of her head. "I couldn't help but overhear what you said to Atham. If you are in need of a partner to work with, then I am more than happy to offer my assistance. I am already well verse with this style of fighting, studied a lot of grappling and throws while I was younger. It was the easiest way in dealing with my full grown opponents." Lily laughed a little before extending her hand to Shade, "Lily Decoria by the way. Jedi Knight."
 
Shade did not react to Atham's words beyond a brief, measured glance in his direction. There was no visible offense taken, no tightening of posture, no flicker of temper. If anything, his dismissal simply confirmed an assessment she had already made and set aside. When Lily approached, Shade turned her attention fully to her.

The bow was acknowledged with a precise inclination of Shade's head in return, equal in courtesy but restrained. Her crimson eyes studied Lily openly, not weighing rank or title first, but balance, stance, the way she carried herself in a room meant for violence rather than ceremony.

"I heard him," Shade said calmly, her voice low and even. "And I am not concerned."

Her gaze softened by a narrow margin, just enough to signal that Lily's approach had been welcome rather than intrusive.

"You are correct," she continued, shifting her weight slightly, the movement economical and deliberate. "How someone fights, and more importantly how they teach others to fight, is often more revealing than what they choose to say when they believe no one of consequence is listening."

She glanced briefly back toward the training floor, where Atham continued his demonstration, then returned her focus to Lily.

"You did not misread the situation," Shade added. "You simply arrived without the context he believes necessary to justify his tone."

There was no bitterness in the observation. Only fact.

At Lily's explanation, Shade's attention sharpened with interest rather than surprise. Echani training. Grappling. Throws. Discipline learned before the Force complicated it. That alignment mattered.

"A practical foundation," Shade said thoughtfully. "One that survives fatigue, armor, and proximity. I respect that."

She accepted Lily's offered hand, her grip firm but controlled, neither testing nor yielding, simply present. There was a brief pause as Shade regarded her, not with scrutiny, but with the kind of careful attention reserved for someone she was willing to meet where they stood.

"Shade," she said simply, offering no title or qualifier. "And yes, I would welcome a partner."

Her gaze remained on Lily's, steady and attentive, not challenging, not deferential, but openly engaged.

"I am not here to impress Atham," Shade continued after a moment. "Nor to seek his approval, or to measure myself against his expectations. I came because I want to understand how his soldiers are taught to move, how their instincts are shaped before thought has time to interfere, and where those instincts hold under pressure." Her eyes flicked briefly toward the training floor before returning to Lily. "That understanding is clearer when it is shared, not observed from a distance."

She paused, subtle and deliberate, as if choosing how much to offer.

"I am not here because of how he speaks," Shade said more quietly. "I am here because there is something to learn, and because learning does not require agreement with every aspect of the teacher."

Her gaze softened slightly as it returned to Lily, measured but open.

"If his manner proves unhelpful, I will adapt," Shade continued evenly. "If it does not, then it will not distract from the work. Either way, the lesson remains."

She released Lily's hand and inclined her head again, the gesture smaller now, but unmistakably genuine.

"I appreciate you offering," she added, the sincerity understated but clear. "Experience like yours, earned before the Force complicates things, has a way of revealing truths that instruction alone cannot."

Shade stepped back just enough to give Lily room, her posture relaxed but ready, signaling cooperation rather than challenge.

"Whenever you are ready," she said calmly. "I will follow."

Lily Decoria Lily Decoria Atham Harek Atham Harek
 


Atham Harek Atham Harek | Shade Shade | Lily Decoria Lily Decoria

Vendaxa wasn’t so far from Ukatis. And.. the comparison ended there. His homeworld’s fields and wildlife wouldn’t tear you apart. Either way, he'd been trying to venture farther beyond what was already familiar to him. Training at a place like this sounded useful. Personally, he didn’t think every fight needed to end in injury, so the idea of possibly using some of these techniques to disarm, unbalance, or even force submission without harm did appeal to Milo.

Amber eyes tracked the mats where bodies met them in repition. It wasn’t chaos, but even so, hesitation took hold. While aware everyone had to start somewhere, most around him looked exceptionally good, making the motions look effortless.

He watched the academy professor's instruction closely, following the placement of hands, the shift and transfer of weight, the timing of the sweep, trying to commit each step to memory as best he could. Somewhere in the sequence a detail slipped loose. The urge to ask for clarification bubbled inside him, but the classroom’s silence definitely held him back. Milo wasn’t keen on drawing the spotlight onto himself.

When the time arrived to pair off, Milo stepped forward and met the gaze of the stranger with a nod. Their hands met, and he allowed the other to guide the flow. The sequence came much faster than expected. Before he could even react, the figure's grip locked, his footing slipped away, and then the mat was rising to meet his back. He stayed there for a second longer, staring up at the ceiling.
 
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GAHR Training Center, Vendaxa
Milo Ferin Milo Ferin


"Won't be saving the Republic down there, old bean."

Atham helped the younger Jedi to his feet, with a grin, standing over Milo Ferin Milo Ferin . He squared up with him again, letting Milo practice the move on him a few times, each time helping Milo perfect the throw.

"Now there chap, if you want a better attack, more direct, you want what I like to call the old pick and roll." Atham squared up with Milo, enganging in the clench they were in before. "Now, this is important. We're in this clench, right? Say we've both dropped our weapons, or your Sith baddie is going for his lightsaber, or you want to prevent him from slashing down upon you like the dewfall, right?" He pushed against Milo, showing how fruitless it was to push against him. He had Milo perform the same. "Pushing and shoving only works so far, so, we want to pull them down, but first- we step back, get them off balance-" He did just that, and pulled Milo down after Atham took a step back.

"See how that puts you back? Now you want to lean over him, get these nice underhooks underneath your opponent's ruddy arms and-" He slid his hands over Milo's biceps, grasping underneath his arms. "Most armor and things have a nice bit of scruff to grab on there for leverage. But it works for shirtless men and clothes just the same." He pushed and had Milo repeat the action on him, getting Milo used to the action.

"Now, we got this lovely hook here, now we move onto the pick." He pulled Milo down just like before, where Milo was bridging himself. "Now, we have them all pulled down, right? Well, we need to be fast here. So we put our hand- our non-dominant, down, grab the ankle." He used his left hand to grab Milo's left ankle, tapping it on the back. "Back of the ankle, not on the calf. We want to pull them off their feet, not just their leg, chap." Atham dropped his left knee, and lifted slightly on Milo's leg by pulling on his ankle. "Now we just use our big strong dominant hand to just roll them towards the picked ankle and-" He did just that, and tossed Milo onto his stomach. "Then we can follow up with stabbing, choking, stomping, elbowing, biting into their jugular, whatever you need." He pulled back, and waited.

"Now you try, chap."




 
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| Location | Training Center, Vendaxa
| Objective | Practice
A large and burly Weequay let out a surprised yelp as he was swept off his legs and thrown into the mat by the smaller Echani woman, pale hair flipping as she threw her head back after throwing the soldier to the floor. She smiled and offered a nod as she reached forward and held out her hand, taking his as she pulled back and used her foot as an anchor point to help get the Weequay back on his feet, offering a nod as she used her free hand to pat them on the back and make sure they were okay before they moved off to take a rest.
Ava found herself amongst the ranks of the High Republic following her brief stint with the Foundation, training rebel fighters - now here she found herself back in the familiar life of a soldier once more. With the collapse of the Galactic Alliance, the High Republic remained one of the few paragons of democracy and peace left in the Galaxy. She was able-bodied and more than willing to take up arms again for a cause or government worth fighting for to honor her uncle's legacy; to protect those who would not be able to protect themselves.
She walked off to the side as her eyes shifted between the people present, eyes quick to discern mistakes in form and execution as she raised a hand up to her face, using the back of it to wipe the sweat off her brow. Many were still quite unskilled, but given the instructor's teaching she had little doubt that they'd be able to pick up the skills needed to survive a melee encounter. Adapt quickly or be slow and unprepared had always been the difference between life and death on the battlefield. The recruits and soldiers would have to learn and adapt quickly in order to survive.

 


The words took a second to register. An exhale followed, mat still against his back. Maybe he'd been down there longer than he thought.

“Sorry,” offered by instinct. A short lived, half formed smile followed.

Milo’s stance shifted as the instructor squared up; this time his feet set apart just a little wider, knees softer, then the realization coming that they might’ve even been locked last time. He couldn't remember. When the clench closed, his breath shortened, but tried to stay in control of it so he didn’t sabotage his own gas tank. Admittingly, the clench always turned into more of a battle for strength for him, wanting to do all the work with his arms, the tools always used on the farm.

The teen’s focus narrowed. Up close like this, everything had a way of slowing now. Now he could feel how the leverage worked. Those underhooks did seem to offer a lot of stability. So, when the man pulled, giving in to motion instead of resisting, the strain was gone. After, a crease furrowed his brow.
“Oh,” he breathed. Fingers adjusted, elbows close. “So I don’t have to stop them.”

The next time he tried, he flowed with the movement as suggested. “If they’re already moving, it’s more like.. just helping it along instead of stopping it?”

From those couple repetitions, the technique still didn’t feel natural.. but they did feel possible now. Soon he was on the floor again. It felt.. unfairly efficient? He wasn’t sure how to word everything, but it was actually kind of cool. Palm pressing into the mat, he pushed himself back up while replaying the motions in his head.

The Padawan didn’t have much experience with violence. He’d never really considered stabbing anyone, much less biting anything other than a good ol’ nerf steak back home.
“That’s a lot of options. Yeah, I’d be happy if they stop trying to get up though.”

Milo’s focus strayed for a second or two. “I wouldn’t mind putting a Sith baddie down for nap time,” he admitted while rubbing the back of his neck. Of course, that meant the rear naked choke, one of the few techniques he could actually recognize. One just about any casual could recognize, really. One day, Ashla willing.

He stepped forward.. then paused. Feet planted then unplanted, guilty of already overthinking it. Drawing in another breath he moved again and brought his hands up. Underhooks followed. Dipping for the ankle, the motion stalled halfway, landing a little high. Sure, the movement finished rough around the edges, but it finished. Milo also knew the only reason it worked was because the instructor allowed it
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GAHR Training Center, Vendaxa
Milo Ferin Milo Ferin


If they’re already moving, it’s more like.. just helping it along instead of stopping it?”

Atham grinned and pointed a finger at him. "Now you've got it, lad." Atham let Milo practice on him. He was a gentle instructor in this delicate art. Milo's movements at first were awkward and not fluid, but over time, effective, even practiced. Clumsy, not fluid- but still, the foundation was there. And he eventually got it.
“I wouldn’t mind putting a Sith baddie down for nap time,”

Milo and Atham broke, Atham letting the younger man take in the lesson. Atham put a hand on his shoulder. "They'll put us all down, willingly. They'll surround you, kill you and everything we care about." A fingertip touched his heart. "Fight 'em hard, lad. And put 'em down. The good people of the Republic expect you to. I expect you to." Atham smiled. Smug, touchy.

Milo's last repition was sloppier than before, but still-

He did it. Atham gave him a thumbs up as Milo tossed him one more time.

"Want a new trick, old sport? Or want to practice this one some more?"








 
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Location: Vendaxa - GAHR Training Facility
Outfit: Jedi Attire
Tag: Shade Shade

Lily blinked and nodded her head, "I never said that you were."

"From my experience there is little justification he believes he needs for it. But less about that and let's focus on training." Lily figured it would be best to avoid discussing the soldier in general since she was not really seeing any redeemable qualities around him. Instead, Lily was keen on helping others get what they could from the lesson and then departing.

Nodding her head, "well, glad to hear that you respect the foundation." Lily stated. When Shade seemed to double down on explaining why she did not seem to care about Atham's attitude or the way he spoke to her. "Perhaps it is merely my upbringing, but even when dismissing someone, I would not justify using harsh and aggressive language. It reflects poorly on myself more than anything else."

"I am not here to critique him, or badmouth him. I merely came over to offer you a partner to train with. I came to this class because I was curious how different he might be as a teacher and how he would teach such techniques." Lily decided to just explain her presence and sighed, "I am truly indifferent on what your thoughts of him might be, they are your own and that is all they need to be." Lily affirmed, she was not aiming to slyly talk poorly of someone.

When Shade released her hand, Lily nodded her head and made sure that her hair was tied in place so it would avoid getting in her face. "Understood." Lily then approached forward, "do you have much experience with grappling or fighting in general?" Lily asked, curious to know how basic she needed to be when discussing the throws and positioning of the body.
 


When Milo landed on the mats again, the bite was softer. He bounced back to his feet quicker this time, though his head still struggled to catch up. While he wasn’t tired, his breath demanded a little more attention than expected.

Those words about the Sith surfaced again. Ukatis’ open fields and fence lines surfaced, especially given it was right on the border of Sith space. A lump formed in his throat, tightening, but he forced it down.

All the more reason to keep going.


"Want a new trick, old sport? Or want to practice this one some more?"

His brain, the part that liked routine, told him he should probably stay right here. Keep drilling it. Burn it in. But logic was going to lose that argument. Besides, this wasn’t a regular class for him, as he wasn’t a member of this training facility. For him, just popping in while in the area, it was more like a clinic offering something extra, from someone with a planetary title at that. Like getting dessert before dinner.

So, the Padawan’s expression gave him away first. Something bright cut through his youthful visage, eyes lighting just a little. A crooked smile formed right after.


“Uh.. yeah,” the laugh came out first, sheepish and breathless. “Yeah, that’d be..that’d be rad, actually, sir.”
 
Shade shifted her attention fully to Lily as Atham's bark cut through the space, the interruption acknowledged but not engaged. The mat beneath her feet grounded her posture, shoulders settling into something practical rather than evaluative, and when she spoke, it was with the calm focus of someone who had come here to learn, not to instruct.

"Some," she answered evenly, meeting Lily's gaze without weighing it. "Enough to recognize the mechanics when I see them, but not enough that I would call it formal training."

She adjusted her stance as she spoke, feet set a little wider, knees loose, testing her balance the way someone does when they're still calibrating rather than demonstrating. There was familiarity there, but no claim of authority.

"Most of my experience came from situations where distance collapsed quickly," Shade continued, voice steady and factual. "There was rarely time to think in terms of named techniques. You learned what kept you upright, what kept you breathing, and what failed when strength alone ran out."

Her hands lifted briefly, then lowered again, as if she caught herself before turning the explanation into something more than it needed to be.

"That's why I came," she added. "I want to understand the structure behind it. What makes something repeatable instead of improvised."

Shade inclined her head slightly, not an invitation to be taught by her, but an acknowledgment of shared purpose.

"I'm still figuring out how these transitions are supposed to feel," she said honestly. "So if you're working through it too, that's fine with me. We can take it step by step and see where it breaks down."

She settled into position across from Lily, hands relaxed, posture open, clearly ready to engage but not to lead.

"Where do you want to start?"

Atham Harek Atham Harek Lily Decoria Lily Decoria Milo Ferin Milo Ferin Ava Black Ava Black
 
Location: Vendaxa - GAHR Training Facility
Outfit: Jedi Attire
Tag: Shade Shade

Lily did not seem to hear any barking towards them and remained attentive to Shade. Listening to what the other woman had to say since it was important in understanding the other person's experience to avoid repeating information, or explaining something too technical and the information flying over their heads. So Lily moved in closer, "well, I can demonstrate on you what to do then you can try copying the technique on me afterwards."

"With throws and taking a person to the ground, the key is not really your personal strength, it is more on being able to capitalise on the momentum of the body. Guiding it in the direction and speed you want it to be going at." Lily explained to Shade, taking the time to go over the fundamentals of how this sort of fighting worked. "Strength helps, but not crucial. Enough practice and training, you could probably take down someone who is more than twice your size and weight. Just might need to learn some other tricks and tips in order to ensure you can win."

Holding up a fighting stance, Lily nodded to Shade to do the same. "I'll show you where to go from here in terms of how to do a takedown. Go from there then, if you want?" Lily wanted to make sure that she was allowing Shade to feel comfortable in directing the speed and flow of the learning while Lily prepped for what to be saying and demonstrating for Shade next.
 
Shade listened without interrupting, her attention fixed on Lily rather than the space around them. The noise of the training hall faded into background awareness as she focused on the cadence of Lily's voice, the way she explained not just what to do, but why. That mattered. Too many instructors skipped that step.

When Lily moved closer, Shade adjusted instinctively, matching the distance without crowding, her posture relaxed but ready. She gave a small nod of acknowledgment at the suggestion.

"That works," Shade said calmly. "Demonstration first will give me a clearer frame of reference."

As Lily spoke about momentum, Shade's expression sharpened with recognition rather than surprise. This was familiar ground. Not the exact form, but the philosophy behind it. Use what is given. Redirect rather than oppose.

"That aligns with how I was trained," Shade replied after a beat. "Strength is unreliable. Momentum is not, if you understand it." A faint pause, thoughtful. "I am more interested in control than speed. If I can decide where someone ends up, the rest tends to follow."

She shifted into the stance Lily indicated, movements economical and precise. There was no wasted motion, no exaggerated flourish. Just balance, weight centered, feet placed with deliberate care.

Her crimson eyes flicked briefly to Lily's footing, then back to her centerline, already observing, already learning.

"I appreciate you setting the pace this way," Shade added quietly. "Show me how you initiate the takedown. I will mirror it once I understand the transition points."

There was no challenge in her tone. Only openness and a genuine willingness to be taught.
Lily Decoria Lily Decoria
 
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Milo Ferin Milo Ferin

He stood Milo up, and put his hands on either forearm. "Say, you and I- locked like so. With you and a bloke with a lightsaber, painfully true that you might run into a bugger trying to do this to you. So you want to step-" He stepped forward, and put Milo off balance. "And then you pull again..." And he did just that, stepping backwards to pull Milo forward.

"Now, see how all that weight of yours is on that foot forward there? Since I just am pushing and pulling you back. Let's say all I have to do now is..." He gave a firm sweep, not a kick, with his foot. He drug the top of his foot underneath Milo's, and knocked Milo to the floor. He stood over Milo, guiding him to the floor instead of tossing him.

"Now, see that? Just one foot, and you're on your backside!"

He smiled down at the younger man.

"Quickly and with good violence of action- not just strength. That's how you win, old bean."

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