Demons

[Alan]

Tracyn looked around the garden, his armor lay in a pile near him, and with it, he felt like he could strip away his actual protective armor emotionally. He leaned over a rock, running a hand through his hair. Old habits died hard. He needed a hit, but at the same time, he didn't. He hadn't done it in years, nor did he want to. Asha would have something to say, Asha would have a comforting word or gesture. But she just had to go and asplode. Now here he was, alone. Alone because of himself. He had distanced himself from everyone, and nearly given into everything he was taught not to give into.

But he had to fight it, all the temptations, all the rage, all that. He was better than that. He wanted to see a million Sith dead at his feet, a million different ways to make the galaxy right, because he had been wronged. He couldn't hide it any longer, all he wanted was vengeance. The Sith were evil, and he wanted them all to die. They were a cancer to the force, they were just evil and he wanted them all to die. Hate. That's what it was. That's what he was fueling himself by. He leaned under one of the garden trees, and reached into his armor pouch, pulling out a Shento cigar. They had a certain taste that Banthazolate wouldn't satisfy, and a certain...feeling too. He leaned back on the tree, placing it into his mouth. He reached for his armor's forearm plate, and ignited the flamethrower, lighting the end of his cigar. He leaned back in the temple garden, enjoying the tranquility, the peace that he finally felt. Half-naked and halfway to happy, for the first time in a while. He let the cigar gently blaze, sniffing as he did, glancing around as he smiled in his solace.

OOC:
For people to talk to Tracyn. (please).

 

[Kiskla Grayson-Matteo]

Kiskla was feeling more accomplished than usual, which for someone as busy as herself, was saying quite a bit. Each time she came to Tython she felt her Jedi roots growing stronger and stronger. For years she had been distant, and now that she was back, and able to offer assistance in training she was feeling pretty well-used. Allowing persons to foray for the first time into a technique they had been yearning to accomplish for years, and being the one to grant them access to their capabilities? It was a rewarding feeling.

That being said, her own meditation and serene time had been interrupted. And so, her footwork found her in the serene gardens of the Tython temple. She was still in her fatigues from her exercises with a Padawan earlier, not that she would have been sporting traditional robes anyhow. That wasn't really her schtick.

The gardens were teeming with life that she could feel, and Tython's constant serenity was enough to keep her darkest side dormant, despite it's displeasure. She was growing stronger every day, growing in more and more control of her burden. Perhaps the journey to Mortis two years ago had not been a mistake, and in fact the entities had been true in suggesting she be their keeper. After so many rotations, you'd think she was warming up to the idea.

Speaking of warming up, a scent that was not generated by the local flora filtered through the air and tickled her nostrils. Oh nice the young woman thought, memories of the company her father used to keep flashing in her mind. Scent was the best way to recollect memories, apparently. Her light eyes traveled to the way the smoke was generated from, and she wasn't all too surprised to see a rough-looking person perched and enjoying his drags.

"I'm sure nobody needs to remind you of what kind of habit it is that you're keeping up." The master intervened, slightly deterred by the emotional storm that seemed to cloud the person's presence.

@[member="Tracyn Ordo"]

 

[Alan]

Tracyn's tattooed body shifted at the sound of a voice. Not much, just the initial reaction of going for a weapon at his side seemed obvious to a trained eye, but to most it just seemed like he jumped a little bit. But then he remembered he was only in his sweatpants. He looked up at her, one of his knees propping up as he removed the cigar from his mouth and stared at her for a moment."I don't need the force to tell me you've got the posture and demeanor of a Jedi. Question is, I've never seen you around before. Then again, I try to avoid being here as much as humanly possible.."He said, pausing to take another drag, his tattooed body shifting as he sat up further on the tree.

"I'm Kobe, but you can call me Tracyn. What's your name?"He said quietly, observing her. His iced-over glaze was incredibly stone cold, much like staring into a shell-shocked person's eyes. Something was bothering him, and despite his cold nature, there were small tells that gave him away. There was a slight tremble in his hand, from a mixture of battle fatigue, PTSD, previous drug addictions, and severe depression. His posture was defensive, and at the same time, aggressive to a fault. He was not exactly, at the moment, a model Jedi.

@[member="Kiskla Grayson"]

 

[Kiskla Grayson-Matteo]

She had the posture of a Jedi? Okay, that she couldn't blatantly argue because she wasn't one hundred percent sure what that meant, but the demeanour? That was somewhat reassuring, considering one third of her presence was consumed by the entity of the darkside.

"Oh?" Kiskla asked, regarding his admittance to his lack of interest in Tython. "What made you change your mind this time, Tracyn? You don't seem anxious to get off-planet." The young woman might have felt a little invasive considering his dress, but she was used to being surrounded by soldiers in fatigues. She was responsible for the training of an inner-time army, after all.

Her slender arm broke from it's rigid position and gestured to a vacant spot "I'm Kiskla. Mind if I sit?" She had nowhere else to be, and standing and staring was awkward. Plus, they'd just exchanged credentials and now it would be strange to continue on as if she'd never stumbled across the jittery Jedi.

@[member="Tracyn Ordo"]

 

[Alan]

He smiled at her 'you wanna get off this rock' comment. He smiled, the cigar still in his mouth."Sometimes it's nice to enjoy a cigar."He looked at her eyesight, and then looked down to his own...clothing and lack thereof."I apologize for not being properly dressed as a Jedi should. And yeah, go ahead and sit. Making me nervous standing over me, I feel like you're my old Master or my wi-"He paused, not bothering to finish his sentence, instead opting to take a long drag from his cigar.

He tilted his head."You're not all bright."He said, obviously, obviously not meaning in terms of intelligence. She was like him. She wasn't perfect, she was flawed. But he didn't know what that meant. Was she a Sith in disguise? He slowly started to reach towards his foot, pretending to scratch it, but in reality he always carried a small stiletto, no bigger than his thumb. Enough to kill someone in a jiffy."You new here?"He asked 'going to itch his foot, but in reality just sort of keeping his hand on his knife'.

@[member="Kiskla Grayson"]

 

[Kiskla Grayson-Matteo]

Kiskla obliged and folded her long legs, sitting across from him. Even with his armour disposed next to him, the blond man was still armed to the teeth. Melee weapons, she observed, or at least those that she could see.

His comment about her brightness was surprising. Not even Darron had detected her flaw when they had first met, and he hadn't known about it until she'd delved Beyond Shadows to reveal it. She masked her shock well though, and through a thinly veiled grimace she shook her head no. "I'm not, I've been a member of The Order since I was a youngling." He was agitated, that much was for certain. It didn't take a Lorridian to translate his body language. "I'm not about to snap or anything, either." Kiskla commented, nodding briefly at his reach; to what, she was unsure but nobody moved that much when they were comfortable.

"You however, seem on the edge of your seat. What's troubling you?" She paused, leaning back to show @[member="Tracyn Ordo"] just how exposed she was. Not that her lack of stance meant anything, Kiskla was a honed weapon and rarely felt threatened. "Besides me, of course."

 

[Alan]

He wanted to tell her. The drug addiction. The painful scars. The shrapnel in his chest. His confliction between his people and the Jedi. His wife. His son. Kaine. The Sith. The anger. The guilt. The regret. The possible PTSD. He trembled a bit, and his world completely turned. A culmination of emotions and memories started to pool together. His hand trembled. There was a loud ringing in his ears. Several hues of colors started to form and dissipate. The texture of the area around him shifted. He heard small bits of voices and conversations, and then a screaming, train-like noise of the new person next to him. His ears rang until he thought he would die, but then it stopped, and went back to her question. He shook his head, trying to pretend like it didn't happen.

He took his hand off of his knife, folding his hands on his stomach, letting his cigar roll out of his mouth and to his chest, and finally then to the ground. He brushed the ash off of him, breathing deeply, outwardly calm but inwardly going through a sort of hell."Well, I can't say that I share the whole youngling bit. I'm more of a...recurring Jedi. It comes and goes, you know?"He said with a sarcastic, genuine grin. Sometimes he was okay.


And then there were times like a few seconds ago."I dunno...just tired I guess."Which...was partially true.

@[member="Kiskla Grayson"]

 

[Kiskla Grayson-Matteo]

One didn't reach the status of master by being unaware of her surroundings. The person across from her was deeply conflicted, and at her question there seemed to be a moment of boiling within his metaphysical presence. What's more, he reacted physically. Considering how bare he was to the sight, the slightest movement was easy to detect without being weighted down by armour or cloth.

He also didn't seem phased by the smouldering cigarette touching his skin, and she hadn't felt any microscopic activity, which meant he wasn't shielding himself from the potential burn. Curiouser and curiouser.

"Oh, when did you start working in The Order then?" Not long enough to contain his tremours, apparently. There was something far deeper than the surface he was revealing. Kiskla could understand that she was still a stranger, and getting @[member="Tracyn Ordo"] to open up to her would be different than inviting a Padawan to. "And why, if you can't stand being on Tython? I assume the same goes for most other Jedi planets."

 

[Alan]

"Well, to be frank, it reminds me of the fact that my wife and I used to like it here. Now she's dead. So, I don't like staying here for longer than I have to or 'till I want to."He said, looking down at the mass of tattoos on his body, a shameful and regretful look drawing across his handsome features, making him look older than he was. He looked over at her, and then realized that he did say something about his...absences from the Jedi for extended periods of time. He sighed and leaned back on the tree a bit more, closing his eyes.


"I used to be a Mandalorian Super commando. I was SUPER good at it too. I was...really good at killing people. Still am. But I could just...lay waste to dozens of guys. I was padawan trained at the time, so I was fairly decent at swinging a blade around, but nothing major. But...I met Asha...she convinced me to come back and...yeah."He ran a hand through his hair, leaning back slightly."I just kinda wish that...maybe things turned out better."He said, admitting it outloud. What he meant by that, however, was left to be decided.

 

[Kiskla Grayson-Matteo]

A few years ago, Kiskla would have been embarrassed to have unearth that sensitive subject. Now, however, it was progress. "Understandable." Kiskla nodded sagely. She'd never revisited the planet where her mother had been murdered, but often frequented Naboo where she had been raised, even though all connections to that planet had passed. Or at least, she was fairly confident her Master Marclonus had passed -- there was still a slim possibility of his survival.

@[member="Tracyn Ordo"] was opening up to her, surprisingly enough. It was always intriguing to learn about people's pasts. Especially within The Order, there was never a boring story to be heard. Everybody had their something, and this fellow was a prior Mando'ade? Impressive. That explained some of the tattoos -- the Mandalorians were somewhat like the Kiffar in that sense, that branding was very important not only with the armour they wore, but the details that deckled their skin.
The blonde made the connections between Asha and the mention of his deceased wife fairly quickly, no explanations necessary. The yearning to change the past was also a commonality at all stages in life, no matter if a person was a Padawan or a Master. Regret came with time, and wasn't easily abandoned for most. "I'm sorry for your loss," Kiskla admitted, not lying in the slightest. Unfortunately it was a path for most warriors, and that's why attachment was forbidden for Jedi.
Regret was an anchor.
"What could you do now to make things ideal for yourself? Or are you only complete on the battlefield?" She didn't mean that nastily. For some warriors they were happy when they were exercising their capabilities, and if Tracyn was as adept at battle as he boasted, the question was sound.

 

[Alan]

He leaned forward and rubbed his face a bit, at her statements. She was right. He hated it when people were right. He turned and faced her, tempted to say something rude and mean and particularly honest."No offense, but I don't like it when people say their sorry for my loss. My losses shouldn't concern anyone but me, but I appreciate the sentiment nonetheless."He turned to face her at her second question. He rubbed his face more, falling back against the tree.

"Honestly? When I was near her. She was my saving grace, my everything. Now...now I'm all messed up without her. She...she kind of meant everything to me besides the Jedi. It was her, and the Jedi. And my son, but...you know. That's a whole 'nother level of karked up."He said, rubbing his arm, in a sort of protective way. He looked back at his armor, biting his lip.

@[member="Kiskla Grayson"]

 

[Kiskla Grayson-Matteo]

Kiskla nodded when @[member="Tracyn Ordo"] declined her sympathy. Death was a sensitive subject, no matter how used to it one was. No doubt, being a soldier, Jedi Ordo had lost many comrades in battle. The people he fought with here no doubt his friends -- but there was always that one death, from one person, that haunted and seemed to constantly be leering over ones shoulder.

So she didn't pursue it.

Tracyn continued to divulge to her, and Kiskla frowned thoughtfully. He'd lost both a mate and a son. That also, was not uncommon. Her late master had felt something similar, it was not something that could coupled with an easy recovery. She lifted one knee and rested her lower arm against the bone, tapping her fingers against nothing but air as she considered his statement. He was now uncomfortable, but that darkness that had been changing around was slowly uncurling. It was apparent that Tracyn was a complex fellow, as well as skilled. It was refreshing however, to hear that The Jedi still meant something to him. That meant there was still something keeping him relatively upright.

"You'd be surprised how similar your story is with others." Kiskla spoke after a few moments of consideration, assuring herself that he wouldn't be offended by similarities. "And yet, everyone deals with grievances in a different way to stay on the right path." She meant the light side, and away from the darkside "You being here, and remaining with The Jedi sounds like a way that you keep yourself strong. Is there anything we can help you do, that you haven't been able to on your own? Perhaps because of all the emotions?" She held up her hands, palms facing outward to show she once again didn't mean to intrude, but to assist in perhaps rectifying his mentality to the prowess he once had. That was her job. "I'm not asking you to forget everything, but to build on it. Use your past."

 

[Alan]

"If I build on it, I'll end up worse than I am right now. The smallest little memory, the right little trigger can just..."He snapped his fingers."I have a habit, you know. Of making people dead. I'm good at it. IT being hunting, killing, and slaughtering people. Granted, they're usually bad people. Last month, you know, I threw some guy out of a window and killed about 12 other people because they got in my way of the guy I was throwing out the window. I'm not a good Jedi. I'm not a good father. I wasn't a good husband. And I won't be any of those things. But what I can be, is good at making things dead for the people that want them dead. So if the Jedi want a bunch of bad guys dead, I'm good. It makes me...sort of happy to know that I'm scrubbing the galaxy."His breathing became rapid, and his muscles started to rapidly expand due to the surge of adrenaline starting to go through his body. He crushed his cigar in his mighty hand, starting to snarl.


"You want me to use my past? That usually ends up with a lot of dead people, so forgive me when I'm going to tell you that it's not going to happen. The one thing, that truly, TRULY kept me going, my family, was taken from me by Sith. And I won't stop until I have either seen the Sith retreated into the dark recesses from whence they came, or they lie dead at my feet, or I die trying. I will not have it any other way. Peace, is not an option for me. It never has, and never will be. And that's a fact I'm willing to accept."He said, letting his cigar ash fall to the ground as he released his hand from it. His fresh finger tattoos, which when he put his hands together the right way, spelled WATCHOUT. Specifically was aimed at the, lesser of the galaxy's residents.

@[member="Kiskla Grayson"]

 

[Kiskla Grayson-Matteo]

Kiskla's fists clenched defensively as @[member="Tracyn Ordo"]'s volume began to raise. So then yes he belonged on the battlefield. The more he spoke, the higher her eyebrows raised. Thank goodness he was adversed to The Sith, or he sounded like quite the foe, that or he was more careless than he was precise.
The man across from her was firm in his resolve, like many a senator she had dealt with before. This time, however, this man was not fueled by political vendettas, but rather personal ones. Something not easily coerced.

"Peace is an option for you." Kiskla countered, hoping there was still some place for the Code to be applied. "Perhaps not in the grand scale, but you're looking to eliminate what brings you emotional disruption. You're seeking peace for yourself, even if it's just temporary and it fires up again. Any sort of opposition squashed brings The Jedi one step closer to their goal, even if your emotions are what drive you."

 

[Alan]

"If you think peace is an option for me, true, actual peace, then you, are not as bright as I thought you were. I'm sorry to say that peace will not come for me, the only time I might find peace is either when my hands are around a bad guy's throat, or when Asha was around. And I can get one of those things now! I will never know peace, Miss Grayson. No code, no meditation, nothing, can fix that. It may work for everyone else, but it's not gonna work for me. That's reality. And as far as 'eliminating' emotional disruption, there will be no removal of it, it's always going to be there, no matter how hard I try."He leaned forward, rubbing his head and leaning back, sighing as he glanced upwards to the sky. He ran a hand over his face, clearly distraught moreso than he was before. The conversation had not helped him at all. It just made him realize a few things.

@[member="Kiskla Grayson"]

 

[Kiskla Grayson-Matteo]

And just how did he know her last name? She rarely used it on an introduction basis, and was fairly confident she hadn't this time around either. Additionally, the Miss was slightly derogatory considering their location.
It was clear that she, as a stranger, had overstepped her bounds. That was some of the insight she'd gleamed from far too many conversations gone awry. Kiskla had never been a kindrid spirit, and was usually unable to deflate situations, even in the political arena. She was a sure-shooter with her tongue, and had a knack for prying too deeply.

Especially when someone was openly admitting defeat.

The fact that @[member="Tracyn Ordo"] was giving up, and admitting it was frustrating to her. What would Antares do?

"Well," Kiskla began, unfolding her long legs to stand "Then perhaps you're not trying the right things." She had to believe that, she had to believe that there was truth to The Code. Especially when someone was as tainted as herself. Kiskla dusted some imaginary dirt from her lap and took a sidestep to the path she had been walking originally. Prying into Jedi Ordo's life would be like watering a fence post. Especially since he was older than he, she doubted he'd have the humility to request assistance from a young Master.
"Hopefully you can continue your afternoon, and enjoy your cigarettes."