Private "The Talk"

[Michael Angellus]

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Journal Entry:
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Late Night choices are not always the best ones.

I was packing up my room in the Sanctuary to head back to the Academy when I decided I needed to make a holocall. I did not want to do so in my room because the walls are paper thin, so I walked the halls until I found an overlook that worked. It was quiet and my voice carried well enough without it. The image of my cousin filled the little blue light. He did not look happy.

Looking back, I cannot blame him, but I was not in the mood.

Michael? What is it? What’s wrong?

I need to talk.

Michael… I’m in the middle of an ‘op’. If it’s not an emergency….

Just forget it then. I apologize for interrupting and wasting your time. I was tired, and moody. This is not how I would normally respond to an understandable issue on his end.

No, you called, you don’t call if you don’t have a reason. What’s wrong?

This is going to be my last night in the Sanctuary.

Heading back to the Academy until someone teaches a group class?

Perhaps, however, I am less and less motivated by the minute I am here. I still want to be a Jedi, to be like you, like Uncle Caltin… but I don’t feel wanted here.

He did not like this. This again? I thought you were past this. You’re just quitting? What about Aunt Ala?
She’s nice enough, but she’s busy with her students.

Michael…

Two Padawans… one big kid… Balun Dashiell and this little girl she’s obsessed with… almost motherly. It’s actually pretty endearing to watch… Isla Reingard . I’m not one for gossip, but there is talk that she is obsessed with the girl because she likes her dad… @Lorn Reingard…

... and those are her Padawans? Just the two? I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear the “gossip” and you would be smart not to bring it up to your uncle.

Yes, I don’t understand the issue. It is what it is.

She’s great and easy to talk to. Have you talked to her about this?

That actually made me angry. ... and say what? “Master Quin”, I’m angry that you have two Padawans and are giving back to the Order”?

He just sighed. I missed the point. Talk.To.Her.

I don’t understand why this is a problem for you. I am still going to learn what I can, however it is only few and far between. It is what it is. You have experience in this too. Do you not? I’m sorry but you have no Jedi friends, they think you are creepy and avoid you all they can. You only have friends with Omega Squad. I immediately regretted what I had said, though it was completely true, that still did not make any of it right. ... I am sorry… that was over the line.

Remarkably, he did not take insult in the slightest. He simply sat and waited until I was done. You know why I want you to continue learning to be a Jedi? So you don’t become me. So you don’t become your uncle. He would tell you the same thing. Now if you listen to nothing I say ever again… listen to this… turn around… Hi Ala Quin ! Miss you! He cut the comm, and I suddenly felt like pulling the foot out of my mouth.

 

[Ala Quin]

The soft echo of her boots down the corridor was a whisper compared to the emotional weight thick in the air. Ala didn’t need the Force to feel it—though it hummed, just beneath the surface, like a plucked chord waiting for a note to resolve. She’d felt it the moment she rounded the corner and spotted Michael alone, lingering just long enough before the holocall ended.

She didn’t say a word about it.

Instead, she breezed in like morning sunlight through a cracked window, the scent of lake mist and old stone clinging to her robes from the gardens she'd just passed. Her expression was warm, her posture loose and unthreatening, as if she hadn’t a single care in the galaxy.

“Fancy seeing you here,” she said brightly, tucking a loose curl behind her ear.

She gave him a playful nudge with her elbow, then turned her eyes briefly to the now-dormant comm unit. If she noticed anything—if she’d heard anything—she didn’t show it. There was no accusation in her gaze. Just... Ala.

“I was actually going to ask if you wanted to help Isla with one of her studies later,” she continued. “She’s been working on Force-projection exercises and she’d benefit from someone who doesn’t let her win just because she’s adorable. Not that I’m saying you wouldn't, but—” she smirked, “—I am known for being a bit of a softie.”

A moment of quiet passed between them. Not awkward. Just filled with all the things left unspoken.

Ala turned, took a slow step back toward the archway she’d come through, then paused to glance over her shoulder with that mischievous little smile—the one that said she knew exactly what was going on, but was too gracious to press.

“So what were you two talking about?” she asked with a tilt of her head, grin widening just a fraction.

| Michael Angellus |​

 

[Michael Angellus]

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Journal Entry:
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Alright, she clearly had heard a good amount of the conversation. .

The way she sauntered forward was clearly “her”, the nudge fit her personality well. Or at least seemed to. She was probably processing what she had heard and tried to make small talk. It is either just her bubbly self or a well rehearsed play to get what she wants.

I’ll go with the first one… especially since she is asking me for something.

Master Quin, I will be sincerely glad to help however I can. However, you need to find someone else who will “not let her win.” I have no knowledge of Force Projection. I could be as competitive as anyone, she would still “win.”

When she turned to leave, I got the feeling that it was a ruse. Like either she wanted me to continue with her, or she was just roaming. I stepped forward because I did not want to be rude, not to mention I am tired of being “standoffish” and an “outsider”. Even if no one here will admit that I am any of this, I feel this wayI followed her, hoping to make a connection, but she continued walking without looking back. It was as if she had already forgotten about me. I couldn't tell if she was ignoring me or simply lost in her own thoughts. Either way, I felt more isolated than ever.

Then she asked the question. Clearly looking to gauge my answer.

She would be surprised.

It was a short continuation of a conversation we had previously. A conversation about my issues here, with a Master, as well as a Librarian, and Vanguard, not to mention others who were able to hear everything I say, but not listen. I became afraid of my own shadow and chose to lie about my age… It was then that I shifted my appearance to my natural age, that she would remember. ... and went to the Military Academy to get some self confidence I was not getting here. I’m not a Sal-Soren, or a Trozky or Everest, or whatever it is called… not even a Noble… but I am a part of two families… with a lot of history… living up to both of them.

 

[Ala Quin]

Ala didn't say anything at first. She just listened.

She turned back toward him as he spoke, her arms folding loosely across her middle. No lightsaber. No posture of command. Just stillness. Presence. She let the moment breathe before responding—long enough that it might've seemed like she wasn't going to.

Then in a quiet tone that would force him to pay attention, "That sounds really heavy to carry around alone."

She tilted her head, gaze level—not pitying, not patronizing. Just…seeing him.

"I know what it's like to feel like everyone else got the invitation to something you weren't even told existed. To walk into a place like this and think—'Why me? Why not me? Do they see me at all?'" She gave a breath of something like a laugh, but it was quiet. "I didn't grow up with a name anyone knew. I didn't grow up with much of anything. Just a cave. A mine. And scars I still carry."

She took a few steps closer, her voice dropping as though the words were only meant for him.

"But I know Caltin. I've seen the shadow his story casts. And I know you're straddling two legacies now—Angellus and Vanagor. That's a lot of ghosts to walk with. A lot of people to measure yourself against."

She paused, then let her hand hover near his arm—offering, not insisting.

"But you don't have to be a copy of either of them to matter. You're Michael. And somewhere in there is someone neither of them ever got to be."

Her smile returned, faint but genuine. No Force lecture. No great wisdom. Just the quiet strength of someone who knew what it meant to ache.

"I don't need you to impress Isla. Or outmatch Balun. Or live up to some story someone else wrote. I just want to walk beside you—until you decide what story you want to tell."

She let the moment sit again, then broke the tension with a soft shrug.

"Of course, you don't have to talk about any of that. We can go throw pebbles into the reflecting pool and complain about the cafeteria food instead. I hear they've reintroduced 'gray mush' Taungsdays."

Her grin widened, that telltale flicker of mischief curling at the corner of her mouth. "Or… you could tell me more about that librarian."

| Michael Angellus |​

 

[Michael Angellus]

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Journal Entry:
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She just stood there and listened. No questions. No visceral retorts. Just stood there and listened, taking everything in. A part of me was expecting her to just build everything up and tell me to do very “adult” things, however, truthfully to no real surprise for her, but a big one compared to others, she didn’t. I could take this as an opening, and a roadmap for how to talk to her in the future, but that is the old “Michael” and not the person standing in front of her right now.

When she spoke, it was my turn to listen. More understanding, no flowery word salads, or mental gymnastics, just acceptance. Is she really understanding my side? It’s okay if I’m in the wrong. It is. It’s okay if she sees something different from me, I mean, let’s be real, I am still a teenager, I may act like I know everything, but she is a “Master” for a reason. My point is, all of that is okay, as long as she understands where I am coming from.

Someone finally understands.

I could drop the walls.

I already did in a manner of speaking as a tear rolled down my left cheek and I looked away for a moment to wipe it off. I don’t mind being in a shadow. I grew up in my dad’s, as he grew up in his dad’s and his dad’s and so on. I get that, all of it. It’s just hard when someone who is respected around here openly insults you, but at the same time looks at you as if expecting you to be something your not.

I was talking in circles, and repeated exactly what she had just said. So I stopped myself. Would you mind if we continue this in the kitchens? I could use a bowl of cereal right now. Not trying to ditch her, as I walked slowly, I hoped she would be okay with it as I did not really wait for an answer. I wasn’t hungry, it was more of a foil to me saying the wrong thing, or anything outright stupid. Once we sat down, I settled in, and took a bite. It’s not that I hate it here. I don’t, but everything has been so… I took another bite to stop from saying anything more based out of emotion.

One of the different, not necessarily better but different aspects of the military Academy, compared to here is that everything is “structured”. If I want to learn how to fly a “trench run”, I know I need to show I am adept at high speed banking, and if I am to be adept at that, I need to be adept at banking, open flying and so on. The point is, each lesson builds on the next. I’m not saying that it doesn’t happen here, but ... and I don't mind playing catch up or working hard.. but I’m half the time expected to do things I have yet to learn...Time for another bite.

I appreciate the fact that Lorn Reingard was willing to teach me something. I don’t remember what it is called, but he had these girls throwing wooden knives at me and I was supposed to block them. Another bite, not out of stopping myself, but because I simply wanted one. I did okay, but I still failed. I mean, they threw four at me, and I stopped three.

Shrugging at this, because there was no shame in it, I had to better explain. I failed. I didn’t get all four stopped. It’s okay, I was still learning it, but I failed, you know, no big deal. He tried lying to me. I did not want to get emotional about this, but the memory brought out my disappointment. I still do not know if it was him thinking so little of me, he did not think I could handle failure, or just wanting to be done with me. It really does not matter now. I tried to let it go, and I did not say anything, but he looked at me like I was in the wrong for wanting to do it right. I mean, I don’t mind failing, how else do we learn, right? … but when you just congratulate me when I know I did not finish? That’s… I don’t know. I’m sorry, I am rambling at this point. I mean, you are wondering about the Librarian, but Echo Athoth is just a Jedi with wild feathery hair. Nice enough, I guess.

I sat there for a minute, wanting to let things, and words settle for said minute, but all I could do was rub my head. With respect. You’re the Jedi who lived rent free in Hydrocus Venetia’s head. You are the person who came back from the dead. You are the person who literally became a better version of yourself. You are the person who stood against a Draelvaser three times your size. Yeah, he broke your back but you became an even better person because of it. So if I need to give myself some credit… respectfully… you do as well. One thing my dad could do was say a kind word.

Is this what you meant the other day when you offered to “walk beside” me and your students?