THE UNDEFEATED
Waking up, Ossus.
Early Morning.
Ossus was silent as night came over the planet, however there was no such rest for Jaryn Rhane. The peaceful nothingness of sleep eluded young Master Rhane. He was sitting upright on the bed in his quarters he had been provided with when someone had finally acknowledged his existence. Jaryn had undressed and was currently only in his underwear, I won't give you any details. There's no need for all the ladies to begin drooling in succession of one and other.
Jaryn's back was flat against the wall as he stared blankly into an abyss of thought. He had nothing to do, it was 0400 in the morning. Nobody was up, and therefore he didn't want to wake anyone. However, Jaryn considered himself and ninja and had confidence he could slip past all of his new found brethren. Although he had sinking feeling of not belonging, as you would if staying over at a friends and seeing them and their associated residents waking up, its strange and you feel out of place. That was how Jaryn felt, out of place. He sat up, no longer dwelling on such thoughts and once again focusing on the world around him. It was 0600, how long had he been sitting there thinking in silence? These thoughts troubled him as he felt himself unable to push them to the back of his mind. He let his head fall flat into his hands as he sat with his legs crossed over like a young child anticipating a story or a parent. That made him think back, his parents.
He hadn't thought about them in such a long time, it felt like he had lost that part of himself. Somewhere along this strange journey he had forgotten. He was once a boy, with hopes and dreams and aspirations of being a Jedi Master and the head of the archives in coruscant. He wanted to be knowledgeable, but not about the truth of life. That was what he faced now, the truth. His self image represented it, he was physically built to take and deal out serious damage as he was aware he needed it and mentally he was more prepared than most. He had sharpened his dull and naive blade over the passing months until it could penetrate even the toughest of skin. He scratched his beard and decided to take to his feet, he couldn't lie to himself. Part of him still wanted that Jedi Master at the head of the archives to be him, but as he looked in the mirror in his quarters. That wasn't what he saw, what did he see?
A killer, an efficient blade. A weapon, he had sharpened himself. But what he couldn't decide was if that was taking away from him or adding more edge to the image he saw before him. He gulped, it was almost difficult to take it all in. Looking across his body was as much an adventure for himself as it may be for others. There were scars, and none of those fashionable scars, ugly scars. His back had seven saber whip scars in diagonals across his back, the left of his chest had a bullet wound, it had barely missed his heart. His left arm had a saber wound that had healed poorly, it left a small brighter flesh tone lumped in the back of his shoulder and across his right wrist he had unrecognizable bite marks. That could lead to a funny story or a traumatizing one. However, there was more and with everyone gained he always had to look back upon himself. Deep within his eyes there was a spark, of his old self and his body told the story of how he became the man he was now. If anything, he prided himself upon that fact. He felt better, he was stronger and had taken the lives of many sith. He was, proud of that.
He was doing the galaxy a favour, he believed that with all of his heart. Or, at least told himself he was.
Jaryn got dressed and threw his jacket on loosely, the magnetic buttons that connected the songsteel plate of his armoured jacket was light and didn't do much to change Jaryn's performance. Other than give a significant boost in durability. Jaryn walked through the silent corridors of Ossus temple in search of somewhere to workout. The lights began dimly and activated brightly as they sensed the motion of life. This was what he had imagined, the solitude of being the last jedi to visit this place. Even when he discovered more of his own, he still felt alone. Then, it hit him. Hard, like a saber through his heart. He was alone, he would always be alone; he wasn't a Jedi. He couldn't kid himself, he was a scoundrel doing some good in the galaxy. He didn't belong in, s-... -Stop thinking Jaryn, you don't know what you're on about- He pushed his thoughts aside as he arrived in what looked like the Jedi Gym. Jaryn threw off his jacket and did a few mandatory stretches before he began his run.
If this didn't make him feel better, what good would [member="Hal Terrano"] be?
Early Morning.
Ossus was silent as night came over the planet, however there was no such rest for Jaryn Rhane. The peaceful nothingness of sleep eluded young Master Rhane. He was sitting upright on the bed in his quarters he had been provided with when someone had finally acknowledged his existence. Jaryn had undressed and was currently only in his underwear, I won't give you any details. There's no need for all the ladies to begin drooling in succession of one and other.
Jaryn's back was flat against the wall as he stared blankly into an abyss of thought. He had nothing to do, it was 0400 in the morning. Nobody was up, and therefore he didn't want to wake anyone. However, Jaryn considered himself and ninja and had confidence he could slip past all of his new found brethren. Although he had sinking feeling of not belonging, as you would if staying over at a friends and seeing them and their associated residents waking up, its strange and you feel out of place. That was how Jaryn felt, out of place. He sat up, no longer dwelling on such thoughts and once again focusing on the world around him. It was 0600, how long had he been sitting there thinking in silence? These thoughts troubled him as he felt himself unable to push them to the back of his mind. He let his head fall flat into his hands as he sat with his legs crossed over like a young child anticipating a story or a parent. That made him think back, his parents.
He hadn't thought about them in such a long time, it felt like he had lost that part of himself. Somewhere along this strange journey he had forgotten. He was once a boy, with hopes and dreams and aspirations of being a Jedi Master and the head of the archives in coruscant. He wanted to be knowledgeable, but not about the truth of life. That was what he faced now, the truth. His self image represented it, he was physically built to take and deal out serious damage as he was aware he needed it and mentally he was more prepared than most. He had sharpened his dull and naive blade over the passing months until it could penetrate even the toughest of skin. He scratched his beard and decided to take to his feet, he couldn't lie to himself. Part of him still wanted that Jedi Master at the head of the archives to be him, but as he looked in the mirror in his quarters. That wasn't what he saw, what did he see?
A killer, an efficient blade. A weapon, he had sharpened himself. But what he couldn't decide was if that was taking away from him or adding more edge to the image he saw before him. He gulped, it was almost difficult to take it all in. Looking across his body was as much an adventure for himself as it may be for others. There were scars, and none of those fashionable scars, ugly scars. His back had seven saber whip scars in diagonals across his back, the left of his chest had a bullet wound, it had barely missed his heart. His left arm had a saber wound that had healed poorly, it left a small brighter flesh tone lumped in the back of his shoulder and across his right wrist he had unrecognizable bite marks. That could lead to a funny story or a traumatizing one. However, there was more and with everyone gained he always had to look back upon himself. Deep within his eyes there was a spark, of his old self and his body told the story of how he became the man he was now. If anything, he prided himself upon that fact. He felt better, he was stronger and had taken the lives of many sith. He was, proud of that.
He was doing the galaxy a favour, he believed that with all of his heart. Or, at least told himself he was.
Jaryn got dressed and threw his jacket on loosely, the magnetic buttons that connected the songsteel plate of his armoured jacket was light and didn't do much to change Jaryn's performance. Other than give a significant boost in durability. Jaryn walked through the silent corridors of Ossus temple in search of somewhere to workout. The lights began dimly and activated brightly as they sensed the motion of life. This was what he had imagined, the solitude of being the last jedi to visit this place. Even when he discovered more of his own, he still felt alone. Then, it hit him. Hard, like a saber through his heart. He was alone, he would always be alone; he wasn't a Jedi. He couldn't kid himself, he was a scoundrel doing some good in the galaxy. He didn't belong in, s-... -Stop thinking Jaryn, you don't know what you're on about- He pushed his thoughts aside as he arrived in what looked like the Jedi Gym. Jaryn threw off his jacket and did a few mandatory stretches before he began his run.
If this didn't make him feel better, what good would [member="Hal Terrano"] be?