Working for it

[Loske Treicolt]

She was going to outright lose it. Her smile never faded, and only elicited another laugh as [member="Cedric Grayson"] played into the miscommunication about standards and running the gauntlet. She could have gone fully tangential into the fact Ession didn't have much to choose from, what with the scarce population and what not but he didn't let her. Thank goodness. Her sensitivity was...also something that needed to be trained.

"Well great, now that's out of the way, yes. I'd love to.

You wanted to start with meditation?"

 

[Placeholder 0128]

The battle aboard the Sith superweapon had taught Cedric many things, chiefest among them being his growing mortality. Years of constant war had been good to him in his earliest days. Skill and luck had left him uninjured, but recent happenings had been far less favorable. The victory aboard the weapon would serve as a turning point, and it had also brought him to decisions he would have otherwise ignored.

With that in mind, Cedric decided he rather liked talking to Loske Matson.

"Indeed. You connected to the Force beneath the Great Oak already, and the Force is teeming in the air there. Up here, it is less calm, more wild, and sparse." He sat down on the center of the floor, and gestured for Loske to do the same. "Try reaching out at first. Like you did before."

[member="Loske Matson"]

 

[Loske Treicolt]

That made sense. In the basement of Greywall lived an entity that embodied the silhouette of a tree, but was merely a constraint for The Force itself. A stationary, pulsating object that couldn't be ignored. She hadn't even needed to close her eyes to feel it's power and establish a connection. Conversely, throughout their conversation up here, she hadn't been so distracted with metaphysical whispers.

"That's a good point.." Loske admitted with a mutter as she pushed from the stones she'd been resting against and crossed to fold her legs across from [member="Cedric Grayson"]. The cool stone instantly touched through her fabric and she gave way to a shudder. Violet curtains drew over her irises, giving way to the kaleidoscopic view that happened whenever someone shut their eyes to quickly and shut out the patterns from the world surrounding them.

She decided she'd follow the same patterns she established for herself in the basement, except this time she touched her hands to either side of her hips rather than folding them in her lap. Big moves.

At first, she was just a girl with her eyes closed sitting on the floor.

Then she felt the touch of the breeze, tickling her loose tresses against her cheeks. The recognition of that breeze was the gateway to everything it had impressed upon prior to her. There was life. That breeze was an evidential streamline she could connect to and visualize, the breath of Ruusan. She saw the streamline pass beyond herself, the weighted outline of whatever she was. Not moulded yet, but malleable. Across from her, the weighted supernatural version of the Jedi Master. His edges were sharp, refined.

She tried not to draw too much comparison, but rather focus on appreciating what it was. Focusing on where she stood within it.

The first time she'd done this, she was like a paperweight in the Force. Now, she was like a pot of ink. She was unsettled with herself. Everything around her felt calm, and she was nothing but a contrast.

Her physical brow furrowed in dismay at her metaphysical reflection.

 

[Placeholder 0128]

The empyrean lacked much of the peace it had given him in previous times. It was as if the galaxy itself stood on the edge of a knife, balanced so precariously that even the slightest push might send it toppling over. Cedric felt it in the charge that was in the air - like a thin sheen of electricity that seemed to cover everything he could sense. Part of that chaos was the rash nature of Ruusan's highest peaks, but some of it needed to be credited to fate.

After a few moments of this, Cedric felt the emergence of another along the ethereal plane. This one was far more disjointed, lacking the structure he associated with trained force users. The hurricane that had circled it had abated for the time being, at least.

The Jedi cracked a thin smile as he appraised Loske's progress.

"You're a natural," he mused, "Up here, we are exposed to Ruusan's primal nature. It is a duality, a noble savagery that maintains the balance of life. Creatures live, die, thrive, and suffer as to the balance's will. It is only when the dark side is introduced that that balance is corrupted into something far more malignant. Without it, the brutality of nature is still a peaceful affair, for without violence the living would be killed in far more painful fashions. Death is nature's greatest mercy, but that death is planned before we are ever born. It is fair. The Dark Side denies this plan, denying fate, and spitting in the face of creation. That is why we must be wary of it."

[member="Loske Matson"]

 

[Loske Treicolt]

Her eyes remained closed as she listened to the explanation the Jedi Master offered. The cool stone pressed against the skin of her hands, and she could feel the reciprocation between the temperature difference. The stone exerted effort to cool her temperature, whereas her hands transferred heat to warm the spot and leave an imprint. It balance in the exchange was what the started to become conscious of.

It was a minutiae representative of the scale [member="Cedric Grayson"] spoke about. Life and death, hot and cold, light and dark.

"Conversely, what happens if there's too much light?"

She still focused on her metaphysical reactions and flow as she spoke, versus opening her eyes to see his reactions for what they were. "Somewhere right now, I'm sure some Sith Lord is telling their apprentice about the balance of The Force and the darkness' duty to instil balance. Each light must cast a shadow."

 

[Placeholder 0128]

A good question, and one asked far too often. Many Jedi had their own individual takes on the Force, and Loske was about to find out just why so many had branded him with the title of zealot. The smile he wore withered for a moment as he spoke.

"Then we have pleasant, regulated, balanced life as we know it. The Light is creation, love, peace, understanding, and sacrifice. When nature is in its natural state, the Dark Side does not exist. Worlds infected by its presence have almost always fallen down that way due to the intervention of sentient beings. There is violence in the Light, just as there is in the Dark, but it is modulated, necessary for the sake of survival. That is why it is not a contradiction for Jedi to worship peace, while living the lives of warriors. We fight not because we want to, or because we take pleasure in it, it is because the Force gave us our gifts to defend her natural balance. When the Dark Side is involved, the beasts grow needlessly cruel, the plants become murderous, the very air you breathe grows hostile. The Light is the balance in itself; the Dark Side is nothing more than a cancerous tumor that we've failed to excise from the Force for centuries."

He paused, snickering at Loske's words. "Perhaps there is, but we are safe in the knowledge that such Sith only seek to espouse their beliefs so that they might better exploit the galaxy. They come up with ways to rationalize their existence. All beings, whether they wish to admit it or not, are naturally driven to be good. Those that follow the dark path must continue to make excuses to justify their actions, until they've gone so far that they no longer fell the need to make those excuses. The part of themselves that was once alive has long since been extinguished by the shadow, replaced with nothing more than their basest most depraved desires. Once they have crossed that threshold, there is very little likelihood of recovery. That is what we mean when we refer to one falling to the Dark Side. "

[member="Loske Matson"]

 

[Loske Treicolt]

"If there were no dark side warriors, or other conflicts, then there would just be worshiping peace?"

She squeezed her eyes shut, tightening the grip her eyelashes had on one another to force herself to keep focused on the task of triaging the metaphysical to her will. And still maintain a conversation. Worshipping peace sounded boring. Her mind filled with the memories of Avalore Eden and her child students on Cato Nemoida. It seemed pleasant, and peaceful. They were largely gardeners that happened to have a powerful ally imbued in their existence. Would that be the whole galaxy if there were no Sith to oppress the weaker?

She decided she'd conclude the rest of her hypotheticals out loud, for the benefit of dialogue.

"Sometimes the weak benefited from oppression, when that oppression came with financial regime, an army and other infrastructural benefits. Then what happened? What if people were content to rely on The Empire to provide for them? Would Jedi need to decorate themselves with warpaint just to feel useful? Would they then be the ones creating excuses?"

 

[Placeholder 0128]

Cedric simply shook his head.

"I can see how you would come to that conclusion. There would not solely be peace, per se. Life itself is made up of conflicts that follow other conflicts. These are within the balance. Without the Dark Side, these things would be measured. With it, they tend to go catastrophically out of proportion." He paused, brow furrowing as he fought to find a better way of explaining things. "The nature of sentient beings is free will. It is the number one thing the Light stands for. Sometimes free will leads down darker paths. This is true of all beings, not only force sensitives, and that will never change. However, if the Dark Side's influence is diminished, these great lords that scour worlds and enslave entire systems will cease to exist, and there will be less of the malignant influence on the minds of the average person will diminish as well."

He nodded to his own words.

"Without the Dark Side, we are at a balance of conflict," a pause, "As for your second question, if a people choose to live a certain way, it is their choice. The Jedi have not called for wars against authoritarian regimes simply because they are authoritarian. If their people consent to their rule, ,and the rule is just, then they are welcome to their autonomy. A past example of this would be the Fel Imperium, an authoritarian regime, but one that benefitted its citizens and eliminated segregation. The people loved their emperor, and we were happy to help them whenever they called upon us."

A final pause, "As for the Jedi no longer finding a purpose, I doubt that will ever be the case. Jedi are not soldiers, or they haven't been in the past. We were great historians, philosophers, shipwrights, pilots, senators - our Jedi training only helped to enlighten us, and to teach us to help others. We lived much like any other normal being. Whenthe age of chaos ends, I assume it will be much the same."

[member="Loske Matson"]

 

[Loske Treicolt]

"I think you'd make a great farmer." She offered, a knavish simper sprawled across her lips in jest to the comment of continuing with a simple life. Even if [member="Cedric Grayson"] was not a Jedi, he'd already established he wasn't a mere commoner. He'd still be a ruler and evangelist for Ession. She was hoping she'd be able to feel his reaction, because she still hadn't opened her eyes. So here she was, blind and grinning mischievously.

Content with the rationale for now, Loske nodded and drew into silent appreciation. Her theoretical scenarios turned inward, and she hunted within herself for that trigger that she'd felt so enthusiastic about above Sisio. Where was the source of that light she'd expelled? Was it now akin to a dry bayou, all the resources used up? She couldn't source the pain anymore. On Ultima, it had been all over to the point where she had literally exploded. Here, there was nothing even beginning to spark.

 

[Placeholder 0128]

"It's something I've thought of," Cedric replied honestly, though his presence within the empyrean wavered slightly. Cedric envisioned the galaxy as a sea, and himself as an island. the sands of the island shifted color within the empyrean to a slight orange, indicating amusement in whatever way the receiver interpreted the Force.

'I don't think I'd have the patience for the seclusion being a farmer would bring anyway. Even Jedi need to socialize once in awhile," he added as he examined Loske's signature within the empyrean. The great hurricane that had whirled about her since he'd met her had abated, replaced by an overshadowing mass of gray clouds. They were simple, not white, nor storm ridden, only there. He supposed that indicated Loske's position within the galaxy quite well.

"Has anything changed for you since what happened on the weapon?" He asked, eyes closed.

[member="Loske Matson"]

 

[Loske Treicolt]

Loske's response was merely an empathetic 'Mmm'. Everything that she was rooted down to interactions. The blonde built herself based on who she learned from, who her friends here. She imagined if she had to be in solitude, she'd wither away to practically nothing. Certainly an extrovert, she evidenced so much more zest for life when interacting with others. She was friends with a farmer, dear Abel whatever his last name was. A pure soul. She hoped he was still alive. But she too was far too impatient to successfully tend a crop.

What had changed since the Weapon Ultima? She touched on her ring of Konshi. Something she'd been awarded for her work before The Alliance fell. She'd kept it tucked away in a jewellery box until recently, where she actually found the spells that were bound to it somewhat soothing.

"I feel nauseous at least a little all of the time." Loske admitted. "I keep trying to find the source of that outburst. It felt amazing. I felt so powerful and in the zone. I want that back, but I haven't been able to trigger it since."

 

[Placeholder 0128]

The Jedi lifestyle certainly was not for everyone. At first, Cedric had been skeptical about inviting Loske onto the path. She had a good heart, but her lively temperament was generally the antithesis of the balance most Jedi sought to achieve. The Jedi Master was not so closed minded however; he understood that in the modern day, the galaxy needed Jedi of every stripe. Loske would have a place in this new order, of that he was certain.

"That nausea may be your body trying to connect to the living force, while your mind rejects such notions. For a Jedi, the Force is a constant companion. You must learn to open yourself to its currents at all times. At first, it may be uncomfortable, but with time you will learn to embrace, and even longer for that presence." He explained.

"As for the source - you're quite powerful Loske. You come from a strong bloodline. Despite what many say, the Force does tend to be a genetic trait. Your mother served as a Grandmaster, the height of the order. It is only natural you innately possess some of her strength. You called upon it in a time of desperation: with time, training, and discipline, you can learn to have it with you always."

[member="Loske Matson"]

 

[Loske Treicolt]

It wasn’t so much innate as it was injected. The best outputs of both Kiskla and Marcello twisted throughout the blonde girl’s DNA. Genomes purposely selected to focus on creating someone who had access to power, without having to go through the arduous training and connections for learning. White current, art of the small, force light, tutaminus, electric judgement, barriers — each of those respective Force techniques had taken her parents several years to master and many trainers who were now inaccessible to the galaxy at large. All of this was buried deep within Loske, she just had to access it.

Just. That was the darnedest adverb. Inserting it into an explanation made everything seem so easy - when the opposite was true. Loske was proof that someone needed at least a basic level of training to understand the metaphysical before they went about wielding it for whatever purpose they chose.

“That...makes sense.” Pensively, she pursed her lips. “I’ve spent as long as I could remember being envious of Force users and rejecting any suggestion that The Force and I could get along.” A simper replaced the thoughtful expression “Maybe we just need to have a spiritual handshake. The Force and I.”

As for her calling on the empyrean in a dire state, she felt the need to offer two cents “I felt like I didn’t call it, though. Opposite. It just took over. I was unconscious as much as I can remember, and then just....” she furrowed her face in concentration, hoping to replicate the event when she said “boom.”

Alas, no permeating Force Light.

 

[Placeholder 0128]

Cedric's brow furrowed as she explained her experience aboard the weapon.

"A firm spiritual handshake will get you miles ahead when dealing with the ethereal," Cedric mused, half-joking. There was a sense to it, despite the rather ridiculous terminology. The Force was as sentient as any living being, perhaps more so, and required respect to give respect. The Dark Side abused such notions, but it seemed that Loske was getting the right mind for it.

"That is odd though, what you say about the call, or rather the lack thereof," he continued as he pulled his cloak tighter about his body as a cool wind dashed across the citadel. "Normally one must be seeking salvation in a situation where all seems hopeless. That lines up with your use of the Force, but it acting on its own will is...different," he shook his head, "Perhaps there's more to your connection to the Force then we already know."

[member="Loske Matson"]

 

[Loske Treicolt]

Loske’s eyes finally fluttered open, finding herself getting distracted with the conversation and the exposure to the elements. Unlike [member="Cedric Grayson"], she’d not elected to don any Jedi apparel. She wasn’t fully committed to that path just yet, and felt far more at ease in her pilot slash civilian fatigues. Leather.

There was a pause from him in response to her explanation of the outburst story. That was frightening. “Like... bad more than we already know?” She coaxed.

 

[Placeholder 0128]

The edge of worry could be heard in Loske's voice, and in the way the empyrean slowly whirled about her, lingering above her like an asteroid that might fall from orbit at any time. The Jedi Master remained silent for a moment, considering the question carefully.

"Possibly," he admitted, "Though I highly doubt it. You channeled the Light itself, an ability that took me two decades to control, let alone master." He paused for a moment to consider his words. "I doubt it's anything malignant if it could cause you to channel something so pure."

Cedric shook his head," No, if anything it's likely something to your benefit, though as to its nature I am uncertain."

[member="Loske Matson"]

 

[Loske Treicolt]

Appeased with that logic, Loske settled herself back down. If she was expecting to use The Force to her will, she had to learn about it first. Nobody established a deal with a partner they knew nothing about. A relieved sight passed between them, before she swallowed her breath and closed her eyes once more.

There was light inside her. The Force was reaching out and wanted to be friends. She had to open her mind to the future. This was not only what she had been made for, but who she was meant to be. She reflected back to the glee she’d felt with that power radiating from her fingertips. If the Force hadn’t knocked on her door and kicked it down, she probably wouldn’t be alive right now. It wanted to have a relationship.

She embraced these positive thoughts to destroy the notion that she could not be one with this powerful ally.

 

[Placeholder 0128]

Cedric allowed himself a few moments of meditative silence. He had little desire to interrupt whatever might have been going on in Loske’s mind, and truthfully he sought some of the comfort the cold morning air brought with it. He breathed in deeply, savoring the scent of pines and clear air before something drew his attentions.

There was something within the forests that should not have been. A shadow, ever so slight in stature, just barely blocked out some of Ruusan’s natural luminescence. The Graywall had an intruder, though not a particularly dangerous one.

Curious, Cedric slowly opened his eyes. He opted not to inform Loske of the possible threat - if it proved to be trouble, he would deal with it himself.

“Forge your pact,” he instructed. “The empyrean has been waiting for you to reach out to it. Once you are one with it, your old life will be left behind. You will become a new woman, one whose destiny far outstretches that of a pilot, to be certain.”

[member="Loske Matson"]

 

[Sundara Nyveit]

Sundara had been here before. Not too long ago, not actually, though it felt like decades. Such was the case when so much had changed since Ruusan was last on the Devaronian's radar. Even in the moment, the urge to return seemed like a double edged sword. Was it some repressed hope for a return to the past? A misguided idea that returning to a site from before everything changed would somehow restore whatever had diminished in the months.

Either way, it was a foolhardy task, yet Sundara felt herself ever more drawn to the system. And with nothing else to return to, what more harm could be done?

The planet's surface was colder than she remembered, or perhaps it was her who had turned cold. The light cloak that clung to her shoulders repressed the slight shiver down her spine. Her eyes, once a brilliant blue, had faded to browns, not quite shifting to amber. Those eyes meticulously scanned the area, taking in the semi-familiar landscape, pointing out the specifics of terrain where she and another had encountered a Sith Lord. There was more to that day, she was certain, but the memories weren't quite there, clouded.

[member="Loske Matson"] | [member="Cedric Grayson"]​

 

[Loske Treicolt]

“The empyrean has been waiting for you to reach out to it. Once you are one with it, your old life will be left behind. You will become a new woman, one whose destiny far outstretches that of a pilot, to be certain.”

Her throat hitched. She attempted to swallow, but the liquid got stuck in her cheeks and spilled over her tongue rather than making its way down her throat. Her chest felt tight, and she furrowed her brows, finally clearing her esophagus. [member="Cedric Grayson"]'s delivery of her next task sounded opportunistic and binary. Her old life was one she'd created for herself, she liked it. She had several friends within it -- when the Jedi Master suggested everything would be behind her, and she'd move on, brief panic clenched at her chest. A shiver crept through her body, gripping at the comfort she'd established up to this point with battling the crisp Ruusan air. She'd made choices that made her a pilot. But this was also her decision to take steps forward, and at least get a grasp on what her potential meant.

She elected not to verbally react, for fear her voice would waiver. Her introspective continued, exploring her manufacturing and shapeless form within the metaphysical realm. The fact she could be in here at all was overwhelming. It was like a simulation pod, but so much more. She lifted her hand, and watched as her spiritual self mirrored that action -- pulsating and twitching with little control but permeating a glow against the mishmash of technicolour that were her immediate surroundings. The technicolour ebb and flow reacted to her, at first skittering away from her inflections.

The first thing she was aware of were her hands. When she was slower to move, and approaching the invisible less aggressively, it stretched back out to her and twirled around her fingertips before creeping up to her elbows.

As she reached out in the void to lock metaphysical hands with The Force, it responded. She attempted to push it away, just by thinking, and in the real world loose bits of gravel or distressed stone responded to her touch in the immediate area. Quivering just above the ground as if suspended by an invisible net.

Smells began to fill her nostrils next - not that she'd had a plugged nose beforehand, but the complexities were duly noted - humid moss, leafy oxygen, vapour of rare flowers. In the distance, far, far away, the odor of ozone. Lots of it. Colliding blades. Her touch to the ground ignited her distinct tough with psychometery. Ruusan was a war zone for many years, it had deep history with The Jedi. Parts of it, remnants and fractions of colliding sabres and exuberant displays of telekenesis from Force Users. The Force wanted to show her some of its role on this planet, by engaging all of her senses outside of her sight. She was suddenly acutely aware of her position within relation to everything else.

There were people moving about the castle, there were trees related to some of the plants used as décor on the apex. This was a tremendously speedy overview, and overwhelming, but here she was. Within The Force.



[member="Sundara Nyveit"]