Private Be Like Water

[Everest Vale]

After her recent debacle of trying to work with a sparring droid on her own, leading to one of the biggest frights of her life, Everest Vale had resolved instead to hone her Echani skills on her own with no such 'assistance'. It had been a while since she had the chance to practice the arts of her homeland, amidst trying to memorise lightsaber forms, Jedi ethics and philosophy, the basics of the Force itself, and so on, and Eve was starting to worry she would lose her touch.

Thus she strove to push herself today. She had spent the last hour drilling patterns without rest. Her robe and silver hair whipped about in a frenzy as she demonstrated a steady control of nimble acrobatics. Exactly as she taught me, she would tell herself on occasion between forms, as she drilled again and again. Her dreams of Eshan were visible in the forefront of her mind and she connected through body, mind and spirit to her home once more. For as long as the classroom was free, she would remain here, reconnecting with all that she was and all that she had come from.

Braze​

 

[Braze]

TAGS: Everest Vale

Braze had come to train, as he often did, and found himself drawn to the figure before him. At first glance, he thought she was another Echani, her movements spoke of skill honed through discipline.

He remained silent, light as a shadow, using the Force to dampen his steps as he observed her. For a time, he simply watched, studying the patterns of her strikes, the way her core shifted just before she moved. There was a grace to her, one that caught his attention and refused to let go.

Unable to resist, he stepped forward, his approach deliberately silent and careful, staying out of her immediate field of view. Then, with seamless precision, he slipped into her space, intercepting one of her attacks with a smooth, flowing block. The motion was fluid, almost like a dance, as he transitioned into her line of sight, guiding the strike away liek a parry.

Somber jade-green eyes met hers, steady and intently filled with confidence. Yet, there was no malice or hostility in his movements. Instead, he closed the distance further, executing a cross-legged stance designed to encroach on her territory. The shift in posture carried a subtle challenge, a playful assertion of dominance that was more teasing than threatening.

A smirk flickered across his lips—cheeky and daring; It was a wordless invitation. His energy was mischievous but not aggressive, his intent clear in the way he moved: this was a game, a test of skill, and he was determined to make his presence known.

 

[Everest Vale]

[Music]​

Everest's eyes widened dramatically as one of the motions in her form was intercepted out of nowhere. She gasped from the surprise as a green-eyed young man stood before her suddenly. She took a moment to gauge him. He shone with a handsome ruggedness, with silver hair akin to her own, and Everest wondered if he was a fellow Echani. The way in which he parried her and held himself certainly seemed to imply so.

But he was not here to exchange words for now. That was much obvious. He stood in challenge, open and ready, clearly awaiting her next move. So she moved. Without hesitation, she flew forward into a dramatic overhead semi-roundoff kick towards her impromptu opponent. When her feet landed on the bamboo flooring again, she entered into a burst of closed-fisted jabs towards the centre.

Braze​

 

[Braze]

TAGS: Everest Vale

Braze was pale—practically a marshmallow with alabaster skin and hair so white it gleamed like fresh-fallen snow. The contrast against his black clothes made him almost startling, his appearance as ghostly as his movements were deliberately graceful. Patches of burn scars and cuts poked out from around his hand wraps, their edges rough and uneven. His face had a few minor marks, faint but visible, and his torso carried more gnarled scars on display, twisted and jagged like old battle lines drawn across his skin. He watched intently as she shifted, his keen eyes tracking every adjustment. With measured precision, he raised both wrapped hands, deflecting her strong kick with a smooth, forward shift that neutralized the momentum.

Her next attack came swiftly, but Braze met it with a subtle nudge, his wrists and forearms intercepting hers with an almost eerie ease, even at their current speed. His movements were efficient, economical—just enough to avoid each strike, each blow, conserving his energy while attempting to force her to expend hers. He darted forward into her personal space, crowding her with an agility that belied his relaxed demeanor.

Then came the feint. Braze's hand shot high, a rapid, sudden motion designed to draw her guard upward. Meanwhile, his back hand hovered near his ribs, guarding the vulnerable spot he'd intentionally exposed. His foot shifted stealthily, attempting to hook behind her knee, while his back hand pressed toward her shoulder, a coordinated effort to upset her balance.

His expression was a telltale sign of his enjoyment—a sharp grin that spoke of how thoroughly he relished this high-speed, high-stakes game.