Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Recuperation

Slap clap. Slap clap. Slap clap.

Suddenly the sound stopped. Jacen rolled over onto his back and propped himself up on his elbows. Sweat ran down his bare chest as he cast his eyes over the bare stone walls of his cell again. It was no good. Exercise usually help clear his mind. Instead as he focused, he felt that stirring of anger deep within again. He wasn't convinced that this isolation was helping. The presence of the magma around him was oppressive. His small cell suspended deep under the surface with a single smooth passage back up. If he attempted to break free, the chamber would flood with molten rock that would burn him alive in a flash. The location was hardly conducive to finding his calm centre, but Aela Talith had been quite insistent.

When he thought back to that moment, as realisation of what he had done had dawned on him, he focused on her expression. Perhaps it was his imagination, but he was certain there had been disappointment in her look. When he pictured it in his mind, it did not evoke any emotions. Instead it seemed to open that hollow chasm deep down that sucked away any feeling.

He knew what that was the start of, he feared it. Jacen had spent many years battling a debilitating depression. There was no time for that now, there was a desperate war to be won. Of course, realising that brought him back to frustration and the mental cycle started again.

Jacen swore quietly to himself and went back to clapping push ups. It was better than staring at the walls and imagining the magma rushing past his cell, or thinking back to his downfall. He had barely touched the dark side, but in the New Jedi Order, that was enough.
 
Perhaps, he decided, this isolation was part of the lesson. Certainly in the military he'd been given ample support after a traumatic experience. Talking this through with anyone would have been preferable to this. Of course he couldn't rely on anyone else to resist the temptation of the dark side. In hindsight it was easy to see where it had drawn him in, but at the time it hadn't even occurred to him that he was channeling the other side of the Force through his raw emotions. Jacen sat up and stopped his leg raises. The flesh across his side was still bright and raw from the blaster bolt. Some painkillers would be useful, but meditation to try and dull the pain was all he had available.

His cell wasn't tiny, and he had his own refresher room. There was as much water as he wanted and reasonable hot meals and snacks were sent down regularly. The view wasn't great though, he reflected. He exercised now because it was the only thing to pass the time with. Perhaps if he shouted up, he would be passed down a book. He'd try that one when his next meal was brought.
 
Quiet thuds reverberated around the cell as the small orange ball bounced off the walls. It was the kind that children played with, the kind that bounced particularly high. He vividly recalled losing his temper with his son for throwing one inside the house and smashing several plates. In hindsight, he knew he had been suffering from stress following a difficult deployment. At the time some part of him was beginning to realise that his wife was planning on leaving him. Perhaps if he had kept his calm back then, his son would still be talking to him.

Jacen was lying back on his bed, hands behind his head. The ball was bouncing off the walls following his telekinetic guidance. He’d asked for a few items to keep himself occupied: the ball, some stones to practise levitating, a soft matt for meditation, and a few books. They had acquiesced to his requests so it seemed that he had not been entirely abandoned yet. The way Aela had looked at him before, he had thought she might have him left down here forever.

The ball fell from the air like a stone. Left to its own devices it bounced across the floor with increasing frequency before rolling under his bed. She was barely out of childhood and he doubted he’d be able to look her square in the eye again. Jacen rubbed his eyes and slid off his bed and started to stretch his arms. Looking backwards with despair wasn’t going to help anything. He needed to take control of his own life. No one else was responsible for his actions. It was true there were Jedi who had never suffered true hardship, but at the same time there were many who had been put through far more than him. Running from his demons only bought him time. He had to face them and rationalise and accept what had happened to him, if he was going to move forwards.
 
“Every why has its wherefore.”

The soft and quiet inflection of a feminine voice would drift over towards [member="Jacen Voidstalker"] with the calm serenity of a trickling brook. It’s origin lay in the seemingly diminutive figure of one draped in the silver and white embroidered Voss Mystic Cowl and robes. The light would reveal the faint lavender geometric clan tattoos of the Iridonian woman over her pale face, as if painted by the stroke of a brush over the skin of her smooth eyebrows, cheeks, and chin. It was Jedi Knight A’dele Adonnai from the Circle of Healers.

Some would consider the Zaberak female a bit of an oddity. Truth be told, she was the sort to keep to herself. Most rarely ever really thought of her, more apt to fade into the background like a wallflower. Ever seemingly in control of her emotions, a bastion of stoic serene strength. Her days were mainly spent in vast stretches of meditation in seiza form, with the remainder at the Circle of Healers, the archives, or training a class or two.

She was a woman of proverbs and orthodox Jedi teachings. One may even say a staunch traditionalist who held every word of the original Jedi Code like a mantra. Her conversation amounted to such topics in her seemingly quiet and stoic demeanor. So it was to no surprise that her greeting to the Jedi Knight in mental turmoil would be such.

Listless ice blue eyes would quietly contemplate the Human male as the holding cell electronic field would lower briefly for her entrance. The Jedi Order had assigned a healer to check on his recuperation. It was she.
 
[member="Adele Adonai"]

Jacen started at her voice. He had been perched on the edge of his bed, failing to find his calm centre and drop into a meditative state. He knew that voice. Back when he'd been training to build his mental walls he'd focused on its sound to help him relax. Shut out all other distractions and allowed it to follow him into his reverie.

Whilst a break from the constant solitude was welcome, he immediately found himself looking to the floor. They all knew what he had done. Every one of them. None of them would ever look at him with respect again. They'd always wonder when, rather than if, he would fall to the dark side.

"Hello," he said quietly. He would have said something else as his usual greeting, but he had no bearing on the current time.

The room was all plain stone, but for his bed and one shelf. A few books, some plain stones and a rubber ball were all that decorated the sparse chamber.

"Sorry," he said, looking abashed. "Not exactly been overrun with visitors," he explained. Still covered in a thin sheen of sweat he reached for the plain white shirt crumbled up on his pillow to put it on. "If everything happens for a reason why do you think I'm here?" he asked quietly.
 
[member="Jacen Voidstalker"]


A pair of ice blue eyes would observe the Jedi Knight with a gaze that would bore through with quiet contemplation. Her thoughts were always hard to discern, she always kept a level of perfect, poised, cordiality. A seemingly serenity beyond compare. One wondered if the woman ever truly felt anything beyond her studies and her time at the Circle of Healers, she certainly rarely ever showed it. Few could remember when her voice or her face would express any kind of emotional tell.

Her eyes fell, and she quietly would pad her way inside of the cell. She came to a slight stop a few feet in front of him, waiting for him to perhaps return to a measure of decency with the shirt. No reaction came of her from his previous half dressed state; perhaps that was the healer in her others would presume. As it is, the woman appeared to be rather puritanical in her views, so anything was possible.

As for an answer.

"A gem is not polished without rubbing, nor a man perfected without trials." the quiet Caamasi proverb would float over. The sound of fabric slipping over flesh would return her attention to the man.

"When one finds themselves in a dark place, a little more knowledge lights the way." There was no judgement in her expression nor in her tone. Just fact. A mantra of repetition. A reminder.

Her hands came to rest just over her belly, left over right, waiting for his permission for her to inspect his wounds.
 
[member="Adele Adonai"]

Jacen tried to rub some of the tiredness from his eyes. Again, he idly wondered what the time was on the surface. Just the sound of her serene voice reciting some more proverbs seemed to have a calming influence. Some of the tension that had been pressing on his thoughts melted away.

He knew Adele was a teacher at the academy, as well as a healer. What he was uncertain of was why she was the first one to visit him. He had expected some questioning from the Marshall's or perhaps some tests. Maybe that's what she was here for? What did she know of the Dark side? The puritanical teacher had likely never seen or experienced anything to test her resolve.

Calm yourself, he told himself sternly. It was too easy after this isolation to get caught up in his own thoughts. There was no need to lash out for the mistakes he had made.

"Sometimes gems can be broken when being cut, and end up discarded," he replied, his eyes still firmly on the floor. "Do you mind if I ask what time it is on the surface and why you're here Adele?" he asked, managing to raise his eyes to her face, looking across her delicate alabaster skin for a moment.
 
[member="Jacen Voidstalker"]


"Ten past thirteen hundred hours." A'dele would respond to his inquiry, her pale blue eyes ever still humbly resting upon the solider. Irritation rose quickly within the man. Irritation laced with anger that rose and fell like an ocean's wave. He avoided her gaze, perhaps for whatever judgement he would imagine would lay in her eyes.

"I have been assigned to tend to your wounds, Knight Voidstalker." the answer came after, as did the gentle reminder of name and rank. Few ever called her A'dele, and she rarely ever used first names.

"By the Circle of Healers," she would add after, if he required any clarification. His physical well being was just one of the many concerns the New Jedi Order had. Her patience perhaps, one of the reasons the Iridonian had been selected.

"If you have any aliments, I may be able to assist."
 
[member="Adele Adonai"]

A mischievous, boyish smile graced his lips at her tone when addressing him by rank. Here was one who probably would have been quite at home with the Republic Jedi Order, at the time he was chafing under their strict, but contradictory approaches.

A modicum of self control was required not to call her by first name again. There was already trouble enough without trying to tease the placid healer to get a reaction.

"Thank you Knight A'donnai," he replied. "Ailments? I have this terrible affliction where I keep getting shot. I have been wondering if there was an underlying condition," he said.

However very quickly he added: "Blaster burn on my right side, knife stab to upper left thigh. I think young Master Talith may have broken a rib when she decided to stand on my back as well."

All the wounds had received initial treatment, but all still caused a level of discomfort. The knife wound in particular appeared to have been stitched rather too quickly and looked slightly angry and raw.
 
[member="Jacen Voidstalker"]

If he had intended on getting a rise out of her. It would not work. Her seemingly pleasant demeanor would not stray. Instead the woman would give a slight incline of her head in acknowledgement. With an appraisal that could only come from a healer, Jedi Knight Adonnai would then gesture for Jacen towards the refresher.

"Proper care first begins with proper hygiene." Her mild instruction would direct the still sweat slicked Jedi Knight, another gentle reminder of his current state of being. "I will bring you a fresh robe to wear. We can begin as soon as you are ready thereafter." It was all very clinical, matteroffact.

One would wonder of an android would have more of a reaction than the seemingly phlegmatic disposition the Jedi Healer only expressed.
 
[member="Adele Adonai"]

"Err... Right." Jacen looked down at the shirt that was now damp with his sweat. "Very sorry, small room and all. At least the ventilation is good I suppose," he said, taking the shirt back off.

The refresher unit was slightly cramped, and he slapped his elbow against the side undressing in such a small unit. Still, it was better than what you usually found on ships. The NJO facilities all took advantage of Sullust's thermal activity and used hot showers. The main Temple even had baths and saunas. Such a change from the usual perfunctory sonic affair.

Voidstalker emerged just a few minutes later, a small towel around his waist and still dripping wet. "Is there that robe?" he asked. Jacen had spent most of his life playing sport and on tour with the military, despite all the other things that plagued his consciousness, he wasn't too shy about his own body at least.
 
[member="Jacen Voidstalker"]


A'dele had been busy while Jacen had occupied himself in the refresher. The small cell was now a bit tidier. Certainly not cleaned beyond compare, but it was evident that the Healer had tidied up to ensure she had a proper area for her to conduct her work. There was a small med-kit by the bed, the first two snaps undone to reveal your typical medical instruments. A'dele was not only a healer through the Force, but she was also skilled in practical applications of medicine. While she was not a doctor, she would do well as a physician's assistant or a field nurse when requested.

She heard him come out of the refresher before he spoke. Turning on her heel, that lightly tattoo'd face would lift to meet his. If the sight of water trickling over a broad scarred chest and saturating happy trails onto the towel affected her, the woman did not show it. In fact, her gaze did not dip any lower than his chin.

With a small turn, A'dele took the neatly folded robe and presented it to him. "You may slip it on with the ties to the back." she would advise. Drawing her attention from the native of Tatooine, she then gave a small encouraging gesture to the bed, her quiet voice floating over with notable tranquility.

"Once you are done please take a seat, Knight Voidstalker."
 
[member="Adele Adonai"]

Just a few training sessions with the pale-skinned iridonian were enough for Jacen to be familiar with her particular ways. However, after the week he'd been through, his wild insecurities took their own interpretation of her mannerisms.

They're ashamed of you. They can barely look at you. Always a mediocre Knight anyway, they'll carry on the fight whilst you sit in your cell.

With a sad smile, he took the robe. Jacen turned his back on the healer, before swapping his small towel for the robe, neatly tidying the knot against the small of his back.

He returned to the edge of the bed and sat where directed. He knew he should have sat in silence and had the perfunctory inspection done quickly, but he couldn't help but ask. "They're disappointed with me aren't they?"
 
[member="Jacen Voidstalker"]



Eyes a hue of Ilum's crystal caves would fall to rest upon Jacen's face. They would trace over the angles, the slight twitch at his jaw, the manner by which he still avoided her gaze. To some, the expression of shame and turmoil that would settle upon the Jedi like a death shroud would be merely a point of judgement. Not for A'dele.

Her lids fell. Quietly she added, "I am going to move the fabric of the robe to tend to the injury on your thigh." it was a simple explanation, one that would preface any medical inspection so as the patient would always be aware of what a healer would do.

"On a level of one through ten, how much pain do you feel?" she asked. A small stool would allow her to sit in front of him. Her small shoulders rose as she took a deep breath, as if she was going through a careful thought process. Finally, she spoke.

"A single slip may cause lasting sorrow." she began, cool hands reaching down to lightly fold the hem of the robe up. Yes, a single mistake may cause lasting regrets.

However...

"Nothing in life is to be feared, it is only to be understood." the quiet Caamasi proverb came softly from her lips. A muscled leg with a scattered fleece of hair would appear, puckered scars keloding here and there. The puncture at his thigh was ragged and red, what manner of field aid had stanched the worse, but it would require more attention.
 
"Hah!" he managed to chuckle alongside her



Jacen's lips thinned as she ignored the question and went straight onto the medical inspection. Of course she would offer no hint of what was going on outside. The inspection would be done promptly and she would return to her cataloguing and training padawans. No one would want to be near him now, or engage him in conversation. He was tainted.

"Of course," he answered to her first explanation. "Generally only a three when moving around, but we'll see when you start poking around I supposed."

He saw the shift in her slender shoulders, heard the sigh before she spoke. The attention to detail he'd developed as an investigator was still there, but it didn't bring about an understanding. He didn't even consider skimming her surface emotions. Such a thing would be incredibly rude, especially given that he was clearly considered tainted. Not that he would manage anything. He required a clear, open mind to read people. Right now he couldn't even find his centre enough to balance both stones and his rubber ball at once. Not to mention the fact that she taught the course of mental defences. His eyes considered her lavender tattooed face, but there were no signs.

She spoke her proverbs and he took a moment to consider them. Clearly, this was her chosen method of communicating meaning today. His brow furrowed as he followed the train of thought.

"I have always feared disappointing others," he reasoned as she inspected his wound.
 
[member="Jacen Voidstalker"]

"A Jedi's strength flows from the Force. You will find understanding when you are calm and at peace. Passive." coming from the Jedi Healer, that made sense. All she did was meditate for hours on end. What would she know of trials?

Until she said the following.

"It is not their disappointment that troubles you, Knight Voidstalker." a pause. "But your own."

Her head would dip forward slightly as she let her fingers gently trace the edge of the laceration, inspecting for any weeping skin and signs of infection.

A'dele was a repository of proverbs and tenets, but those she recited to the Jedi Knight in front of her held far more meaning than they would appear to. A bit more personal.
 
"It is not their disappointment that troubles you, Knight Voidstalker." a pause. "But your own."
“Didn’t have a proverb for that one then eh?” he replied with a smile. It was immediately wiped from his face as her fingers tested the edges of the jagged wound, replaced by a grimace. “That’s probably a five still,” he added, trying to ignore the sensation of her delicate fingers against his thigh.

He tried to take his mind away from the current situation, mentally reviewing the proverbs she had recited and that last remark that cut to the core of the issue. The first time he had been ejected from the academy in his youth it had crushed him. That failure had forever lingered, even if he had gone on to have success in other areas. That had taken determination and drive.

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Jacen sighed. “Hard not to feel like a failure, but also hard to keep picking myself back up again. I suppose I should stop asking after the others. There’s only one person who can do anything about this and it’s me. Worst case – assuming I ever get out of this box – is that I don’t see a battlefield again and I have to find other ways to help the cause.

“Need to come to terms with everything in my own head I reckon.” He knew he was rambling and that – at best – she would reply with nothing more than another proverb. However, it felt good to pretend he was having an engaged conversation with another individual, and not just his own insecurities. Besides, the few words she had provided so far betrayed an insight he had not expected from the healer.
 
[member="Jacen Voidstalker"]

Her lips would thin subtly, but was it due to his conversation or her inspection of his injury was hard to say. The aura that came from the Jedi Knight was rather neutral, a bit fuzzy, as if caught in a fog. There was no ill intent there, but there was also no shining beacon. Simply there. To the casual observer, it would appear as if she was merely providing as much of a neutral ground for Jacen to be in. Free of judgements.

Adele’s movements were careful and steady, practiced one might say. All through Jacen’s discourse, the Iridonian female would move to open the medkit in precise motions. It was almost as if she was going through a mental checklist of actions, and each had to be done precisely so. Was she over compulsive in that manner? Or was she simply being cautious?

The length of fabric of her cowl would sink forward when when she moved, lightly caressing her tattooed cheek with every sway. At this distance one could see the lack of eyelashes over her eyelids, the subtle ridges of vestigial horns under the fabric of her cowl. And when she returned with a bacta wipe in hand to cleanse the wound, the fresh scent of soap and juniper came along with her -- followed by the sickly sweet aroma of bacta with every gentle swipe of the cloth she made.

As he spoke, Adele’s steady strokes would start to wane and linger. She kept her head down, her pale blue eyes seemingly focused upon her task. However, a deep breath would fill her chest and her shoulders rose, fingers curling around the bacta wipe, tensing white knuckles but for the briefest of moments.

“Not until just before dawn do people sleep best,” she would not disappoint, another Caamai Proverb, “...not until people get old do they become wise.”

She straightened and turned back towards the med-kit, depositing the used wipe beside it as she seemingly busied herself to the next task. “A small fire can be quenched once it is found. Awareness is but the first step as is self-discipline.”
 
In the silence, the space between words, he watched her peculiar routine. It was clear to him that she had her ways for sorting through and preparing her equipment in a precise manner. No bad thing for someone dealing with wounds and infections, he mused. For a few moments his eyes traced the subtle lines of her tattoos across her features.

Realising he was staring, his eyes turned to carefully considered the joins between duracrete blocks in the ceiling instead. As she started to work he sucked in air through his teeth. "Always stings," he mumbled to himself. The wound clearly hadn't healed as quickly as it should have done.

Looking back down, at the sound of her slow intake of breath, Jacen noted her pause, wondering what was going through the mysterious librarian's mind. She recited another proverb and he took a moment to think on this one. It seemed relevant, of a little obvious. However, her second proverb seemed more focused on the situation at hand. Certainly the second part seemed like direct advice, rather than a quotation.

"That's what scares me the most," Jacen admitted. "I made no conscious decision to use the dark side. It took a hold of me, latched onto my sudden emotional surge. In those moments it felt like the right thing to be doing. I'm aware of what I did in hindsight, would I see myself doing it again?

"Perhaps I won't and Aela will be even less tolerant next time. Just a quick burning sensation before everything fades to black," he said quietly.

"I'm sorry," he added suddenly with a change of tone. "Getting a bit melancholy rather easily, stuck with my own thoughts. Time heals all wounds. See? Know a few myself. This cuts and burns will be long gone by the time I've reconciled with myself I reckon."

"How's the cut by the way? It isn't infected is it?" he asked, well aware that he was rambling again. It hadn't smelled in that sickly way infection did, but the area had gone an angry red. The bacta gel would probably do its job anyway.
 
[member="Jacen Voidstalker"]

It was subtle. Barely a twitch of a nerve, a quirk of the corner of her lips. It might have been the imagination or it might have been a tick. Whatever it was, it would be followed by a quiet, "No. No infection. But I will aide in accelerating your natural healing."

Her right hand would return to hover just over his upper thigh, slender digits of her pale hand a stark contrast to the darker hue of his skin. Almost too delicate, near translucent. One could barely see the blue of her veins over her hand. She wasn't unnaturally pale, just an Alderaan rose complexion of one who spent more times indoors than out. Jacen would feel the Force swell within the Jedi healer, but not in a rush. No it was more of a soft and cautious coax, unique to her. Much like her precise motions when it dealt with the medkit, she seemed to be just as precise with her Force use as well. There was no great surge of power, no over taxation. Just enough for him to feel the growing warmth of her hand and a subtle glow swell from it.

Heat would radiate on over the wound, a gentle stimulation of nerves, blood vessels, and flesh. Much like the tingling sensation one feels when a limb falls asleep only to feel the blood rush through it, so would Voidstalker feel it so upon his skin and muscle below.

For a moment, it appeared as if no further proverbs or discussion would come from the rather seemingly mild mannered Jedi. At least, until her soft voice would float over Jacen. A cautious, careful, statement that held more truth than she would rather reveal, "Time will not heal all wounds. A small bit always lingers, like a bad knee that aches with the coming storm. But they serve as reminders. They make us wise. It is the self discipline that follows that can bring forth a renewed awareness and focus."

Her fingers would slightly wiggle and the warmth would gently continue to spread across his thigh, her eyes still down cast in her task.

"Where there is no emotion, there is peace, where there is no passion, there is serenity." at that, ice blue eyes finally would lift, meeting Jacen's gaze with a poignant solemn gaze. She looked at him then. Stared right into his eyes and saw him.

Haunted. Filled with doubts. Afraid. Ashamed. Lost.

There was familiarity in that.

"If you desire serenity, Knight Voidstalker." she did not hesitate then. "I may assist you in finding it."
 

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