Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Faction [THP] Call to Arms


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Zane smirked at Alison's voice, tilting his head just enough to catch her eye. "Pretty boy, huh? I'll take it." The grin widened a touch before he shifted the helmet in his arm and added, "But for the record, I fly twice as well as I talk in a cantina. Which means you're all in for a real treat."

The grin lingered as his gaze cut to Devin, catching the man's own look with one of his own. "And careful, or you'll make me think you actually enjoy my company."

He then settled back on his heels, eyes sliding over the squad gathered around them. Between Michael's droid running its mouth, Nash's deadpan complaints, and Alison trying to drag Supisy into the circle, the hangar felt a bit lighter. Right now, it was just a group of pilots trading jabs instead of standing on the edge of a fight that would decide the future.

Zane finally tugged the zipper of his flightsuit a little higher and chuckled under his breath. He had a feeling that after the battle, they wouldn't all look this good anymore.



 
Obj. II
(Tags: Vera Noble Vera Noble , OPEN)​

The jesting exaggerated groan accompanied when both arms were thrown up, Jack huffed vocally before remarking in good nature, "Yeah, yeah."

Hopping gracefully on both feet, the Knight straightened tall and rolled his shoulders, yet again, for good measure. Sporiting a cheerful smile as he's admittedly a little chilly now from the weather, himself, motioning by left hand for his companion to lead on, and get themselves underway for this inevitable showdown.

"Pretty sure they've got everything covered already, though. If not," Jack made a playful face, adding in good humour, "I'll have to question your mother's prep skills."
 
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Outfit: x x x x x | Equipment: x x x x x x | Weapons: x x x | Companion: Domxite
Interacting with: Runar Ulfsson Runar Ulfsson

Zaiya's smile lingered as she watched the little bird flutter about before fading away. When it was gone, she turned back to Runar, her expression still warm and bright.

The Lovalla listened, truly listened, before giving a small thoughtful hum. A shimmer of pale silver threaded through her spots as she reflected, softening into warmer blues as she began to speak.

"Hmm....I can see why the old texts warned against attachments and cautioned us about emotions," she said thoughtfully.

"But if we quash them all, we also silence compassion, empathy, concern, happiness, joy… all the things that make us whole. It wouldn't make sense to only allow the happy-go-lucky feelings. It's the bitter that makes us cherish the sweet." Golden warmth rippled faintly through her glow, underscoring the tenderness in her words.

Zaiya lifted her hand, opening her fingers as she gently coaxed a swirl of snowflakes with the Force, watching them dance in the air. The light along her skin shifted again, a soft interplay of blues and bronze flickering like breath.

"I agree," she continued, her tone quieter now as she gave a few blinks, "choosing not to be consumed by emotions is what lets us tell the difference between light and dark."

The snowflakes twirled lazily through her fingers as she went on, the glow around her dimming to muted silver hues in empathy.

"But there's also catharsis in letting ourselves feel. Grief, for example, for some, it comes out as tears, sobs, and wails that make you feel as if they'll break you. Yet afterward… you feel lighter, empty.. maybe even numb, but better able to process what's left behind."

Those irridescent cerulean eyes softened as they settled upon Runar again, the bronze light shimmering gently over her mottled spots as she looked at him with quiet conviction.

"I don't see it as a bad thing to sit with the darker thoughts. To understand the why behind them. If more of us could work through those feelings earlier, when they first start instead of hiding them away, maybe fewer would sink so deep into the dark that they lose all color, all light, all hope."

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Location: Eshan
Objective: 2 - Prep for the mission
Outfit: Armoured
Equipment: Rotary Cannon, heavy pistol, beskad
Tags: Valery Noble Valery Noble | Fa-Olan Warren Fa-Olan Warren | Sakadi Marathi Sinvala Sakadi Marathi Sinvala | Connel Vanagor Connel Vanagor | Corazona von Ascania Corazona von Ascania | Shan Shan

Tarw nodded his head when Valery admitted to being tired. It made sense. There was a lot going on and war was seemingly never ending with Valery needing to be there to offer not only moral support but to show that the fight was not over. It was a tough role to shoulder, and it was something none of the people around her would understand, even Tarw. None of them shouldered the same level of responsibilities that he knew that Valery was shouldering alone. Which was another big issue. It was a lonely role to have.

"Well, they say there is no rest for the wicked. So clearly you are all kinds of wicked." Tarw grinned widely, hoping that a little humour shared between friends would down well. "It is good that the Hidden Path could coordinate fast enough to respond. Though it seems half the galaxy is responding to this threat which is good to see." Tarw stated as he noted more and more people were now pouring into the room which made sense since it was the room where Valery was.

Looking back at the maps, "it can't end here. It won't end here. More needs to be done to show the Galactic Empire that they can't be allowed to make weapons like this without retaliation." Tarw stated firmly, the humour long gone from his voice now. "We need to be doing more to fight this. To make them suffer for this crime." He stood tall and took a step back from Valery, "I'll let you Jedi talk your business. Sure I can find some other soldiers to get somewhat organised for the fight ahead."

He was sure that there would be plenty of Jedi talk that they would not want some soldier standing around and listening around for. He had mostly come to see Valery, check in on his friend as well as mentioning the idea of taking more aggressive routes in the future. That this couldn't just end here, there needed to be harder pushes into the empire space.
 

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Location: Odessen - Odessen Outpost


Equipment:
Field Gear | Lightsaber | Tic
Ace stilled, huffing at Lestra's 'Acier look-alike competition' comment. He didn't move for a long time, just kept on staring at the fire with that same hollow stillness carved into his freckled features.

"Fair enough." He said, finally "No decent person wants to look at a kid and see they're drowning."

His eyes shifted briefly at Lestra, then back to the campfire. He rolled his shoulders and stretched his neck,

"Guess me and you see hope differently." He admitted "Always figured giving someone hope was showing 'em you can take a hit and keep moving forward."

He shrugged. It wasn't so much as Ace knocking Lestra down, or telling him he was wrong. Just relaying his own perspective, maybe even show the Padawan there were more ways to give people hope.

"But if it works for you, then..." Ace didn't finish, he just let the implication hang before moving on "Take it from me. What we've seen, what we've done? Don't think you qualify as a kid anymore. For what it's worth, you've got my respect."

The ashen haired rebel hadn't seen himself as a kid for years. Robbed of a childhood on Bonadan, being forced to grow up fast had made him feel disconnected from how old he actually was.

After a momentary pause, he added "And... if you really wanna give hope. Stop moving and thinking you don't belong. Community's a big part."

Tic chirped softly, leaning into Ace's hand like he agreed. The irony of his statement wasn't lost on him. Ace's reclusive habits tended to get the best of him too. Then again, he wasn't the one actively trying to inspire others. He was just here doing what he himself felt was right.

Lestra Thairk Lestra Thairk
 


With arms folded, it was an attempt at portraying ease in the face of unease; at least his gut didn't feel as tight, finding solace in the humor dancing along the edges of his mind. It kept the sharpness from cutting too deep. There was no denying that he enjoyed basking in the warmth of camaraderie.

He turned back to Michael, absently rubbing the nape of his neck.

“Hey, I bet it was a good one,” he said, voice just loud enough to pierce the cacophony. "The kind that lingers in your thoughts after. The kind you might even read twice. But don't fret, Angellus. I’ll see you again after we handle business out there. You can read it to me then. Gives me something to look forward to besides Zane’s hair routine.”

Alison’s own grin cut across the circle, so Devin pounced. “Careful now, keep feeding him lines like that and he’ll start charging us for holo-posters.”

Rather than landing another elbow, he flicked imaginary dust off his wingman’s shoulder. “Tell ya what. Fly half as good as you brag, and drinks are on me.”

Laughter rippling, he just rolled with it. Pre-battle chatter was interesting.. every joke felt like it could be his last one. Maybe he just wanted to make them count.

His gaze swept the squad. “Alright, rituals on the table. Susanoo’s got her zipper. I have the worst jokes. What about the rest of you?”

Though the following query was directed at all, his attention settled intently on Nash. “Who’s betting we all make it back in one piece?”

 
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E S H A N
SNOWPEAK SANCTUARY

The danger of light and joy.

To dare to love and lose, and still be kind; to still care. There is no greater test of character than this. I know the truth of it. I have held within my heart that greatest of love, unbound and unending, and I have suffered for it. Still suffer for it. Such is the price of daring to cherish someone or something higher than yourself. You bear the wound, as impossible as it may seem at times, and learn to appreciate the pain because it reminds you of them.

How else do we know we ever loved someone to begin with? That life without them is made all the more unbearable, and yet you pull through by the skin of your teeth. Because you must, if not for yourself, then for them. You must carry on living for the two of you. Invoke their name whenever you can, that it does not get lost to time. Rejoice for the sake of others, if not for yourself. That there remains only one happy conclusion to your tale does not grant you the right to steal the joy and wonder from those yet to suffer.

I look now at the faces of those preparing to face darkness and death, and I see the will to live; to know light and joy. Many will not return, taken before their time. I would give of myself in their place; that I be granted the mercy of a swift end and join my beloved in everlasting sleep, all for the chance of the living to see these things — light and joy.

Thurion looked up then, meeting the unflinching gaze of a holo-bust of Caltin Vanagor Caltin Vanagor playing the part of confessor. He smiled faintly, briefly.

Let there be darkness and death for the likes of Thurion Heavenshield, last of the ancient bastion, that the young and the dreamer may know the joy of love as I have. May this be the dying gasp of the old shieldwall; one last foray into the apocalypse; one final gift to the generations we failed.

The lid of the dusty chest swung open, revealing a set of robes not worn since the Silver Age, several decades ago. These belonged to the second-ever Grandmaster of the Silver Jedi Order, long since retired and forgotten by an ungrateful galaxy. Though they still bore scorch marks from blaster and saber, the light of silvery thread persisted to this day. Time had not diminshed their splendour.

Let the enemies of light and joy know the unyielding wrath of the mighty Rock of Vanagor; may thine hand guide mine from the great beyond this day, Brother.

Thurion reached for the lightsaber hilt sitting in front of him, illuminated blue by the holographic likeness of its prior owner. He stood and rested it in the palms of his hands, getting used to its weight and appreciating its craftmanship. After a deep breath, Thurion flicked the switch and out shot a brilliant energy blade of gold. He looked into that golden light and felt its warmth, enough so that it drove the old man to tears.

When finally he emerged from his little makeshift shrine, he did so clad in robes of silver over a weathered warplate, drawing the eyes of many a bystander. Among them were members of the elite
Ironsides, whose leader stepped out from the crowd towards the giant of a man. He was the first to kneel in salute to his first grandmaster, but he was not to be the last. Before he could utter a word of protest, Thurion beheld the other Ironsides follow their commander's lead, and before long many more joined them until an entire hangar's worth of personnel were on their knees.

In recognition of their veneration, the Lion raised
Vanguard high above his head and spoke the immortal words of his father, and his voice carried far indeed.

"Rise up, Sons and Daughters of the Path! Those elusive twins, victory and vengeance, are coming!"
 

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F E E L
Tag: Zaiya Ceti Zaiya Ceti

Runar's eyes looked toward the distance as he listened to her words, his mind processing what she had to say. She seemed to be very knowledgeable about emotions, something he had not experienced many times... and the way she spoke made him feel like she knew his feelings... intimately? It was something he couldn't describe, there was sensing certain emotions through the force, but this was something different, more then that.

Runar shook his head as he realized the quietness that had befallen the pair, his eyes glanced down averted to his hands before glancing back up towards her, his mind trying to figure what to say next, something he never had a problem with normally, but normally he wasn't truly himself... just a version of it meant to squash any worries one might have for him.

"Emotions fuel everyone so much so that those who cannot wield the force are still so strongly affected by them. Have you ever noticed that people lose someone they care for they can spiral and bottle-up all the grief and despair and it consumes them so completely... but then there are those who grieve, but they share that pain with ones they care for... and they never lose the one they lost, but carry their memories on with them, better for having known them. The same scenario, but two different paths..." His voice trailed off as he spoke his eyes blinking off the snow flowing into his eyes.

His eyes took in every shift in her hue, although he did not mention it he was intrigued, it was rare to find someone that's appearance shifted as rapidly as hers, it almost seemed to draw one in.

"I know it is cold out here, I do not wish for you to catch a cold. Would it be more comfortable if we went inside instead of letting the harsh winds buffet our faces and make our fingertips go numb by the ice-cold talons taking hold into our skin." he offered to her, wanting to make sure that Zaiya did not catch anything from being out in the Eshan weather.
 


They were all laughing at Michael’s droid remarks about restraining orders, Zane’s boasting, and just the general tomfoolery before battle. Alison was starting to feel the Adrenalin kicking in, and the butterflies in her stomach seemed to be waking up as well.

Devin’s casual question about them all making it back was like a punch in the gut because deep down she knew the odds weren’t in their favor. Still this didn’t seem like a good time to dwell on negatives.

“Don’t start asking about bets around these guys. They would love to take your creds.”







 
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Outfit: Personal Armour
Equipment:
Lightsaber, Bracelet, Earrings, Seer Stone, Wayfinder's Flare, Atrisian Dancer, Engagement Ring
Companion: Isari
Tag: Ayra Lowe Ayra Lowe Krass Wyms Krass Wyms

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Eve’s silver eye flicked toward the smith as she approached, case in hand. Her gaze softened as Krass introduced herself.

"Quartermaster Wyms," Eve said with a small bow of her head. "Thank you — please tell the Grandmaster I’m honoured." She accepted the case with both hands, weighed it for a moment, then set it carefully on the bench at her side. "I’ll look properly once I’ve finished here."

With that, her attention returned fully to Ayra. She nodded once, giving her leave to begin.

The Padawan’s swing came in earnest, blade humming as it cut toward her side. Eve pivoted, catching it with her own in a controlled bind, then let the clash slide away with a small counter — not harsh, just enough to remind Ayra of the opening she had left.

"Good," she said quietly, their blades still sparking. "Keep your balance under you. Don’t rush to land a blow — let your stance hold your strength." She eased back a pace, readying again, her voice still calm.

"Don’t be afraid of your Echani. That language of movement, of reading and being read — it belongs here too. Bring it into your Jedi work. Let it be part of you."

She let the words settle, then continued.

"And Ayra... I felt you decide to strike my good side just now." Her voice was plain, not harsh. "The Empire won’t afford the same courtesy. So even in training..." She pointed at her eyepatch, the motion casual and pointed — "Aim for the weak points you know. Train to find them."

She gave the girl a brief, encouraging smile.

"Again."

 
The nice Vanagor died, now you get me.
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A Reckoning is Coming
ESHAN
ENCLAVE



Michael, Gabriel, Azrael, Sariel, Raphael, Jeremiel, Connel, Raguel
[Any text in brackets signifies comm-link usage and not face to face conversation]
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He could sense Kat nearby. She was struggling. It was distracting, but a part of him wanted to seek her out, check on the Investigator to see if she was alright, it would be in a moment. Right now there was something else to attend to. He took a deep breath, steeling himself. The mission was critical, and he couldn't afford distractions. He focused on the task at hand, pushing aside the nagging concern for Kat. Whatever she was facing, he hoped she could handle it—at least until he could check on her. He turned his attention back to the mission, his training kicking in. Every second counted, and he couldn't let his emotions cloud his judgment. Still, the thought of Kat lingered, a quiet unease that he couldn't entirely shake. For now, he pushed forward, determined to see the mission through.


When the soldier offered to step out, Connel went to stop him, this wasn’t the N.J.O. or the G.A.D.F., they weren’t “separate but equal” they all were here to work together, and all input was important. He appreciated the soldier's willingness to step back but emphasized that their mission required unity and collaboration. Every perspective mattered, and dismissing anyone's input could jeopardize their success. Connel made it clear that they were all equals here, working toward a common goal.

Your help is welcome, for what it may be worth to you.

That is when he made a choice.

I will be right back. I need to go check on someone.

Following her aura, Connel searched out Kat. He could sense some trepidation on her and he was not going to leave if he knew she was here without checking in on her. The halls of the Snowpeak Sanctuary were quiet, normally this would add to their serenity, but they were preparing for war. She was a part of the Rebel Alliance like his father, but this was not the Rebel Alliance. Did she feel the same? It seemed like something else.

Hey… you alright?

 
Genius, Billionairess, Playgirl, Fighter Pilot


O B J E C T I V E 1 - Hangars of Hope
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Out of the corner of her eye, Luspark watched the rest of the Strikers gravitate into a cluster, bantering back and forth. Laughing, telling jokes, smiles and jests. That felt right.

The Giaca mission was one thing. Tomorrow would be a crucible all it's own. Bot tonight, this rag-tag group of pilots, she was already proud of them. They were coming together quickly. Young warriors all, even the softest among them seemed to look out for the others.

She found herself drifting closer, listening. A few glanced her way now and again, but she could tell it wasn't the look of wariness or conspiracy but looking for a missing element. That only made her smile more.

Kayla was almost to them when the question of betting on survivors came up. And then Allison shot it down. Good on her. Sparing a glance for Supicy, Kayla gestured for the twi'lek to approach with her.

For a moment she stood there, taking in each of them, their faces. A quiet settling over them as a small, tight smile of approval, special just for them found it's way to her. "I'm so proud of you all, already."

She regarded them each in turn. "Tomorrow we fight for something bigger than any of us. Stay true to your wing, watch each other's six." She turned her attention to Michael. "Trust in yourself."

Her gaze moved on. "Trust each other. And trust in the Force."

She flashed them all that same smile. "No matter what happens, we fight as brothers and sisters, braver than thousands. That alone makes me happy to fly with any of you. Let's light up the night and push back this darkness. Show them we won't take this crap lying down."

She let it linger in the air for a moment longer. "Fly well, aim true. And no matter what happens, you're already heroes for tryin'. Let's give 'em hell."


Zane Cameron Zane Cameron Devin Virell Devin Virell Susanoo Tsukuyomi Susanoo Tsukuyomi Evran Myles Evran Myles Michael Angellus Michael Angellus Alison Sky Alison Sky Nash Tavros Nash Tavros Supisy Blen Supisy Blen Aelara-9 Aelara-9
 
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Krass Wyms

Jedi Tech Division
Krass gave Everest Vale Everest Vale a nod of her head as she backed to find a place to observe. Her interest in seeing the fight to come even if it was instructional... at least the knight did the one thing you wanted to and should do.. she told her not to expect honor or fairness.. something that should be a given but the forgemaster had seen some act completely surprised that an evil being... acted evil." She watched Ayra Lowe Ayra Lowe when she brushed the hilt of her hammer touching the saber at the hilt. She was waiting to see about others they had here. With supplies able to be brought she could provide a lot more for some of them as they had the full access to the armory.
 


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Tags: Connel Vanagor Connel Vanagor

Katarine could feel Connel approaching. He stood out more clearly than most here, probably because they had been spending so much time together. She still only knew a few people here but it would change over time, as long as she stuck around. She still wasn't certain what her path was now, but the holonet was live with suffering in the Core and it wasn't something she couldn't just ignore.


Hey… you alright?

She smiled at his voice, her deep green eyes still closed. With a final exhale she opened them and let him swim into view. "Better now." She meant that sincerely. His presence was steady, but she could feel the undertones that he tried to keep hidden. She wasn't one to pry or call attention to this, it was just easier to sense him the more time they spent together.

"It's just the calm before the storm... it's always... different.... every time... you know?"
What was she even saying? Why was she babbling? Get it together girl.

"Did you get Buster set?" She sounded concerned, knowing the pup wouldn't like being kept away but there was no way Connel would take him into the pit they were about to dive into.





 
The nice Vanagor died, now you get me.
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A Reckoning is Coming
ESHAN
ENCLAVE



Michael, Gabriel, Azrael, Sariel, Raphael, Jeremiel, Connel, Raguel
[Any text in brackets signifies comm-link usage and not face to face conversation]
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She asked him about Buster, and he felt bad for the poor little guy. It as if the GMAD (Gallinorese Mountain Aak Dog) knew something was going to happen. He couldn’t think about that now though, right now he had to be prepared and undistracted. So why was he here?

Kat herself.

They had been spending a lot of time together lately and while people needed their space and he always gave it to them (because he wanted his) before a fight. He needed to check on her, and not even the Force explained why. Not that it would.

I did. He’s with my mother, on their way back to Midvinter and away from all of this schmozz.

Then he stepped in a little closer, and reached for the cross his mother gave him.

I have a reason to go back to him already, and my mother, but I want another reason to make it through this.

Waiting for her to give him the “okay”, Connel took the cross off from around his neck, and put it over hers.

It’s nothing big, or expensive, but it was my father’s. He gave it to my mother every time he went off on a mission with the promise he was coming back for it. Well, you’re the only one I could think of continuing this with… if you don’t mind… so… I’ll be coming back for that.

His smile was a bit sheepish. He didn’t know how to do this.

 
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CALL TO ARMS..?

Location – Odessen Jungle Outpost
Objectives – Objective 3
Tags Caelan Valoren Caelan Valoren
Paraphernalia Lightsaber, Bodysuit, Outfit


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The hasty assumption of her deception was almost charming to the Pantoran, it even bought a bemused smile to her lips--though it never reached her golden eyes. To admit the tear was to admit imperfection, a vulnerability so grave she would not grant even her closest allies the satisfaction of witnessing. Instead, Malora sat still, hands intertwined neatly upon her lap, her gaze fixed once more upon the bonfire.

Naïveté coloured the lad's tone, the idea that those on the frontlines fought solely for the safety of others. In truth many were servants of the thrill, to the rush of courting death, or worse, ending a life in the name of honour. It was no different than claiming diplomats enjoyed negotiation only for the good it wrought, when in truth it was a game played for victory and loss.
"Many on the battlefield fall prey to the joy of it." Malora said, lips tugging downward, faint smile lines painting her face. "And no, it does not harmonise with the Light's chorus. But what can one do? It is a Siren's song and once you are ensnared, breaking free is no easy task."

When he spoke of mediation as though it were meant to aid the wounded and displaced, she nearly laughed. Admirable, yes, but heavily misplaced. Diplomacy was a tool reserved for when wars had ended, or when battles repetitively ended in stalemates, and words could clash in place of steel. A warzone all the same, though in this one victories were secured through subterfuge and blackmail rather than sharpened blades and bloodshed. Not that diplomacy ever came without its share of 'accidental deaths.'

"Well, with that attitude..." Malora's voice was enveloped with sharp sarcasm, laced with amusement: "We shall see how long you survive the skirmish. Will you run to your foes, beg them to yield, and what? Negotiate terms?" She spared little effort to remember his name, not as if it stirred any familiarity within her.

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// Padawan Lowe //
//
Objective II // Train //
//
Focus // Everest Vale Everest Vale // Krass Wyms Krass Wyms // OPEN //




As the Jedi Master addressed the forge master without breaking concentration, Ayra herself felt a bit silly for not being able to do the same. As Everest approached the woman, the other Echani took a moment to address the smith as well.

"Sorry, I thank you for the offer, I have a habit of concentrating a bit too much." A small bow was offered to Krass in apology. "And I would be more than happy to learn more about your works, but I fear they would be wasted without improving my skills."

As Everest returned to the sparring grounds, the strike the younger Jedi threw continued, parried effortlessly as the counter struck. It was not a heavy strike, one intended to display a poor opening instead of intended to assault the girl. Space opened between the pair, another chance for Ayra to give the opening strike.

But as the elder Echani spoke of using their heritage an awkward feeling knit it's way into Ayra's stomach, one that would be apparent on her face.


"Umm..." An awkward silence grew as the blades quietly sang as Ayra struggled to look directly at Everest, unsure of how to address her failure. "I'm sorry, Master, but I wasn't raised as an Echani. Our words of body and motion are deafened to me." It was a difficult admission for the girl. Ayra's mother had taught her some of her people's skills, but as far removed from the Echani culture Ayra was, her mother had been more-so. "Some of it comes naturally, of course, but it remains difficult for me to understand and to be understood in turn."

The shame from the dissonance from her culture was apparent in the girl, even if she tried to hide it. Emotion wasn't easy for Ayra to hide, and even as she spoke, the Echani tried to push those failures back down to hide in her heart once again.

"I'm sorry if that disappoints you, Eve, but I promise I'll do my best to follow along with your motions."

The next lesson would be able to stick a touch more easily. Even if it was training, giving mercy to an opponent was bad judgement. Mercy was a rare thing on the battlefield, an enemy would never offer her such. The difference in skill was great enough that it wouldn't matter where Ayra struck, and so she would intend to treat this as a proper fight from now on instead of simple training.

They were going to fight for their lives soon enough, and her abilities needed to be as sharp as they could be.
 
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Outfit: Jedi Robes and Armor
Inventory:
Jedi training Lightsaber modified, Pouches with seeds, Standard Jedi equipment
Tag: Everest Vale Everest Vale Ayra Lowe Ayra Lowe Krass Wyms Krass Wyms

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To say Jane was late would be an understatement. By the time her small boots hurried through her home's hallways and arrived where the voices were,a spar had already taken place. It seemed to be her Master, along with a girl she'd never seen before but who had stunning snowy hair. Perhaps related to Everest?

The short girl slowed down, her black empty orbs scanning the rest of the room. Another woman, with pitch black hair and striking eyes, lingered in the back to observe the right. Jane decided to do the same, lowering her head to greet the Jedi around her before approaching the woman.

Her waddle came to an end as she arrived next to the woman, her gaze returning to the spar.
"Hello. I am Jane." She introduced herself in the same hollow monotone voice as usual. "Have they been sparring for long?"

In reality, a spar didn't seem like a bad idea. It wouldn't be long before they were in a real fight, and any experience was welcomed. But she'd have to wait until she found someone who was more of a beginner like herself.


 

Krass Wyms

Jedi Tech Division
Jane Jane Ayra Lowe Ayra Lowe Everest Vale Everest Vale

She watched the younger padawan with her blade as her arms remained crossed with observation more. She could see the padawan getting better with time but there was the real rub... time was not on their side at the moment but accelerating and rushing it could make it even more dangerous for her. She was watching but also paying attention to the robes, the equipment... She could practically see it and feel it in the force. THe hum of the crystaal as the energy for the blades went through it. The sound of hands on the hilt of the sabers with the barest possibility of fatigue from continued movement and use. Rare but it did happen, the threading of the robes themselves, squeaking of the boots.

Then a voice came through as a girl spoke to her... a padawan and Krass looked at her and was prepared to tilt her head up to speak and look into their face when... she looked down.... and had surprise on her face. This person was shorter then her... they were a precious flower that had to be protected so she was no longer the smallest one in the jedi orders. She looked at the girl and spoke her eyes almost glowing with the force. The embersteel wrapped around her neck with a crystal that hummed with the force. "They just started, Everest is preparing the padawan for battle." SHe said it with a small grin on her face though as she stood there with her apron on and hammer visible.

"I am Master Krass, forgemaster of the Celestial Forge. Who are you tiny one?"
 
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Outfit: x x x x x | Equipment: x x x x x x | Weapons: x x x | Companion: Domxite
Interacting with: Runar Ulfsson Runar Ulfsson

Zaiya's eyes brightened at his words, her glow rippling softly in agreement, bronze threading through her lighter blues.

"Yes! That's exactly it," she said with a little nod, her smile gentle but certain. "Sharing what we feel… it makes all the difference."

When Runar suggested going inside, she tilted her head and gave a soft giggle.

"Mmm, I suppose you're right. The cold does like to sneak into fingertips." She pushed herself up, brushing snow from her cloak before beaming at him again.

"But only if we make a stop for something warm first," she added cheerfully.

"A snack, maybe some tea or cocoa? Oh! Do you think they might have cocoa here? Some places serve it with little marshmallow bits, and others with spice, like cinnamon or caf… I never know which I like best." Her opal blue eyes shimmered with playful wonder as she gestured toward the enclave. "Shall we?"

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