The War Drum's Echo (Cairyn Midore)

[Grace Darkson]

The stone room on Krayiss Two was simple, inelegant and harsh. The square walls were carved from cyclopean stones, the massive boulders fitted together so precisely that the ith doubted even a hair could fit inside them. It was large, enough that the woman could run laps. More than enough space inside the four rust-brown walls for what she had planned.

Cairyn would be here soon. The boy was something she hadn't expected. Many of the new Sith were young, but Cairyn was the worst. He didn't seem to even have the maturity his age would imply. Or maybe he just pretended as such. Either way, it irked her. He was difficult to control. She knew she wasn't the best teacher. But she'd have to learn with this brat of a Sith.

Her mind flashed back to her own training. She'd been insolent. Stubborn. And her master had responded by breaking her in more ways than one. Maybe she'd have to do the same.

[member="Cairyn Midore"] would arrive to see the woman pacing. "You're late." Was the only thing she said as he entered the room.

 

[Cairyn Midore]

Ah, Krayiss Two. Home to a lot of...nothing Cairyn had any real interest in. Well, that wasn't entirely true. With the planet came the Sith, with them, power. Cairyn like power. He also enjoyed making everyone else miserable, but power superseded that just about every day. Well, not quite every day. With the last few excursions, the Teevan youth had grown a bit bored with downer atmosphere, the do or die mentality. He was ready to relax.

Perhaps he'd been a bit too ready to relax, getting all snug with his darling Nexu. He had half the mind to bring the feline with him to his next meeting with...with...Brace? Case? Whatever the lady Sith's name was. He still hadn't bothered to learn the names of any of his future pawns, other than the one he'd had the pleasure of working with individually.

Speaking of...whats her name, when were they supposed to meet again? The more Cairyn thought about it, the more it dawned on him. Oh. Right now. Whoops. Scrambling to his feet, giving his pet one last scratch behind the ears, he made his way to the aggreed meeting area. Brace was going to kill him. Or maybe not. What's she going to talk about anyway, some boring old theory stuff?

When he did arrive, he met her observation with his trademark wide grin. "Yeah, sorry about that. I might have...kind of forgot."

[member="Lady Psyona"]

 

[Grace Darkson]

Slow, methodical steps carried Grace closer to the boy. No hint of amusement could be seen. "Of course you did." Her eyes narrowed, the yellow spots studying him, scanning him for something. Her saber snapped to her hand. "You're so lazy and idiotic that you can't be on time for anything." She flicked her wrist, letting the crimson blade activate and spin in what could be called a salute. Leveling the blade at him, she stared, the saber's tip not inches from where he stood.

"Defend yourself." With that, she struck, spinning her wrist as she lunged forward to bring the blade around, drawing it down on his right shoulder. If he wanted to keep his arm, he'd have to find a way around her strike.

[member="Cairyn Midore"]

 

[Cairyn Midore]

A nervous laugh escaped the cavity of Cairyn's chest, his grin dying down to more of a line curving up on one side. "Don'tcha think that's a bit harsh?" He asked, his left hand scratching the back of his neck, his weight changing from one side tothe other. Those big 'ol orbs of his stared up at her behind his over-sized frames, the light in them not quite matching the tilt of his voice. He took a step back as the lightsaber ignited, mesmerized by the glow it emitted until it was coming for him.

"Woah!" He gave a yelp, dropping to the ground. He gave a kick to Grace's legs has he rolled to the side, popping up with his own lightsaber in hand. Activating it, it was awkward in his grasp, the weight oddly distributed in the inexperienced hand. "Y'know, this is hardly fair."

[member="Lady Psyona"]

 

[Grace Darkson]

There was no change in the woman's expression at the boy's response. Blank, emotionless spheres of yellow and white stared out from behind narrowed eyelids, and her words responded with a venomous clarity. "It is the truth. The fact that it is harsh to your ears matters not." She frowned, shifting her weight.

His kick landed on her thigh. An unexpected measure, to be sure, but not one she really cared to block. Let him have his hit. He would learn how inconsequential it was. She growled at the pain as he rolled away. "We're Sith." She said as she lashed out at him again, a wide swipe aimed to cut him in half at the waist. "We don't play fair."

[member="Cairyn Midore"]

 

[Cairyn Midore]

"Wow. Rude." A turn of the wrist had the blade clumsily swinging to block her blow, him retreating as he went. When enough space was put between him and his attacker, he paused. Bending his knees, he launched himself into the air, the flip meant to give him more distance before he could attempt going on the offensive. The box of the room did not work in his favor, giving him no varied territory, no higher ground to attack from. At the same time, it lowed the risk of a bad landing.

When he did move to attack it was a flurry of uncommitted blows dealt by a hand unpracticed. His form was nonexistent, sloppy. Freestyle would not begin to describe the attempt of an attack. Even without the proper form, with certain loss staring him down, he felt the thrill of actually doing something. A wide smile, bordering maniacal was ever-present as he swung that lightsaber with little care for what it hit.

[member="Lady Psyona"]​