Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Private Growing Pains

There really were no words for how she was feeling. Only silent tears escaped Kyra, the padawan shaking as she swung around a wooden sword in sloppy arcs. Her arms burned at the effort, the heavier weight of the sword demanding more muscles than her soft frame had. A noise of frustrated pain caught in her chest, the girl refusing to let it escape any further.

No one was nearby. At least they shouldn't be. Kyra had taken great pains to escape as far back into the training center as possible. If one didn't know any better, the odd corner she had taken behind mats might suggest she didn't want to be found. She didn't.

The hour was late, close to curfew, but she didn't allow herself to lower the sword from the forms she ran through. Her movements grew sloppier and less refined, and still, she kept her arm up.

She was weak. Horribly weak. Pathetic, fake, weak imitation of a padawan!

She screamed out, slashing sharply through the air. The sword went flying out of her hand, clattering into the mats across from her. All motion left the padawan, her arms on fire as they hung limply at her side. She panted, the tears no longer coming now that she wanted them to just get out of her.

Her ears rang as silence retook its place around her. She cupped her face into her hands and slid to her knees, trying to banish the faint echo of blaster fire from her mind.
 
Good Men Don't Need Rules
Heading to the open training center. Most of the time, it was filled with people who were attempting to learn how to use a saber, practice force powers, or even just spar with others to get a closer resemblance to combat. However, I was not keen on that. I enjoyed my space when I could. While I could deal with the group training sessions that Masters hold for us, I did not like being in a room with ten to twenty other people, who seemed to have nothing better to do than watch you. It was distracting for me. Feeling like I had to watch my back. Plus, I am sure that some of them knew who I was.

I was dressed in just some simple work out clothes. A pair of slacks with shorts underneath, a worn t-shirt that had a couple burn marks from a training saber used a couple times on me, and a duffle bag over my shoulder. As I was walking, a lightsaber clamped within my right hand felt familiar. My own saber I had made. Romi didn't trust me with a Training blade to be able to defend myself with. With the lack of the force I had, providing me with a weapon was so then I could actually survive and defend myself.

Opening the door to the center, I saw almost nobody here. Likely a couple stranglers from the day, and one or two others who I had seen on the regular. Over to the side was a mass of mats and stand dummies. While they were all organized, during the day, most, if not all, would have been taken to be used.

That is another reason why practicing later in the day was good. You didn't have to wait for people to get done with equipment. Setting my duffel bag down along one of the sides of the room, I took my time moving over to the mats. Looking through a couple just with my eyes alone to not pick one of the more damaged ones. I was reaching up to pull it away when I could hear something. Whimpering? Crying? I couldn't quite tell. I stayed still. Not wanting to disturb whomever was there. In fact, I started to take a step back when I heard a yell. Well, a scream really. Followed with something slamming against the mats.

Slowly, I took steps around the mass of mats. Sticking my face around the corner first, I saw... a girl? Longer hair, smaller frame than your typical male student. She was also some near-human species. Bright red and violet hair mixture with a pink skin tone. Much more pink than what a normal human would look like. Every part of the Farmer boy in me wanted to back up and let her deal with her problems herself.... but.

I walked forward without even thinking. A hand reaching gingerly out and rested upon her right shoulder.

"Hey is everything..."

Of course everything wouldn't be great. She is yelling out in anger and pain and fear. I could hear her! No. Something else needed to be said. I didn't want to ask if she wanted help. There were many times I felt like I didn't need help. My headstrong stance on doing everything myself made it difficult for me to accept anyone wanting to help. Unless.... I went and asked them. So instead of assuming she wanted help, I would just do something more mundane.

"Can I bother you with something to drink? I have some water?"

[member="Kyra Perl"],
 
Kyra's head snapped up, her gaze wide and flustered as she made a series of confused noises and sniffles. "Huh, wha?" She wiped at her face, utterly embarrassed to be caught in such a state. She shouldn't have been caught unawares like that. She should have heard him-- felt him. Wasn't she suppose to be working on being more attentive?

But beyond her abrupt embarrassment was the flustered realization that knew who the intruder was. Or at least knew of him. They had been in Romi's class together. But what was more: He was Romi's padawan. And she was looking like this!

"K-kale?" He had no real reason to know her name. Not unless he had ever gotten cozy with details on Romi's family life. But Kyra had paid attention. With details like that-- Kyra cared. She scrambled up, pulling at her clothing, brushing down her hair-- every bit of evidence she could erase with the brush of her hand, she did. There was nothing more life-ending than a bad first impression. Especially when it would get back to her idol.

"What are you- No I- I'm fine." She reassured, wiping a tear into the sweat of her brow. She straightened her posture, her lower lip only woobbling for a moment before that emotion was locked down too and she could raise her chin just a little higher.

"I'm fine. Just-... jammed my thumb. Stung like a queen." She wrapped her arms around herself, keeping the quake of emotions contained. Or so she thought. A sense of displaced hopelessness vibrated off the little empath, betraying her display. She wasn't very controlled in the ability, and in moments like now, it happened without thought. One had to be force dead not to feel the gentle ripple of her emotions in the air, coating their mind like a gentle, translucent film.

Outsider... Hopeless... Weak... Alone...

It was a telling tale. One that clashed with the apologetic smile she shot him. "I'm sorry, was I too loud? I'll keep it down."
 
Good Men Don't Need Rules
"I'm fine." Is what she kept telling me. Every time she did so, a smile cracked wider on my face. Even as she was pushing a tear into sweat that had formed on her brow. Even more so when she remembered my name. I had seen her a couple times as well. Kyra? Keira? Karen? Something to that effect. She clearly looked like a Perl. Zeltron I think was the species. I could tell because I had this urge to flirt with her. Only getting even stronger the longer I stayed in her presence. However, I didn't. It just was not me. As much as I would enjoy the prospect of doing something like that, just as anyone else would, I was here for my job. My purpose.

"Kyra right? No you are fine. Just uh..."

With the wooden training weapon off to the side, the bang sound came from it likely hitting the mat. Thrown in anger or just upset feelings about something. Sure, I can understand where an injury would make you feel that way. She was sweating from whatever work she was performing.

"That must be quite the jam. Maybe take a break to get your mind off of it. A lot of the time, taking my mind off of whatever I am working on to refocus myself and start from scratch will prevent more injury."

She was flustered. Upset at whatever in the world made her so. She clearly was so. It played on her face and her demeanor. Her mind was off somewhere else so deeply, surprise came to her when I made contact. I wouldn't call her a liar, but she seemed to not be holding her thumb or dealing with it very much. I couldn't tell if she was just used to the pain and was upset for hitting it, or was just giving me a reason to go away. Part of me thought it was a little of both. My smile stayed on my face as I reached to my side. Pulling off a little clip the canteen I had with water. Normally I would carry it when I went out or was alone. You never knew when you needed water.

"Here, sip this. Don't chug it. That might make you lose your stomach."

Opening the cap to hang off of the little string that was attached, it was offered to her. I didn't see any drinks with her and she seemed to be just alone in this corner. Plus with how much she was sweating, she likely needed to replenish her reserves of fluids.

"You were in the group training with Master Romi Jade right?"

[member="Kyra Perl"],
 
"I was," Kyra murmured softly, a bit of red tinge to her cheeks to find he remembered her from that. "I was really tired that day. Not myself," she excused. She had not shown any particular skills in that class. None at all, in fact. She took the flask as it was proffered, not favoring her finger in the slightest. She had already forgotten her little lie, the girl taking heavy gulps of water to kill the topic of that class then and there.

Her attention scattered around the space she had tightly squeezed herself into. She handed back the flask, licking at her wet lips. "I can't take a break. I can't stop-- Didn't you hear? There's a war brewing. Sith are gonna eat us for breakfast." Her tone dropped, equal parts disheartened and frustrated.

With a heavy huff, she bent down down and swiped up her wooden sword. The tears he had witnessed seemed a thing of the past, the girl's facade of being 'oh just fine' quickly becoming her reality. She was distractable, to say the least. Now she was more concerned about his perception of her than how much she sucked.

"Whaddare you doing here?" She asked, turning the conversation back towards him. "Romi's... not nearby... right?" She had gone rigid at the thought, more blood rushing to her cheeks.
 
Good Men Don't Need Rules
"What? No, I do most of my own physical training and studying alone."

With the question if Master Jade was around here, she seemed extremely nervous about her. Wait... Wasn't Romi like related to the Perls? Adopted or something like that? I forget the whole story because I didn't pry into my masters personal life. I thought it rude to do so. I did take notice of her almost burning passion about preparing for this war against the Sith. I smiled lightly as wise words from my father echoed in my head. I thought it would be best to recite them for her.

"A Warrior will prepare only for war. A wise man will fight for peace, but prepare for war. I agree, You should train your skills and hone them to the best they can be, but that shouldn't be your only focus. Nor should it consume you. While we will be facing the Sith and maybe others soon, dedicating everything to only one aspect of life will prevent you from reaching your goal Kyra. Please do be careful."

I have seen death. I have seen battles and men who would stab each other in the back for nothing more than a single rancid thought. In honest, I wished that people like Kyra didn't have to join the Jedi. Not that she doesn't or wouldn't fit, but I could still see the innocence in her mind. Clinging on to everything it could. I raised a hand in front of her training weapon.

"If you would like, after you take a proper break to rest your thumb and your heart, I can maybe show you a thing or two to help you in your training?"

Why not? If she had this much conviction, I knew that she had so much more. If something really tugged at her heart strings and her mind, she could do anything. If I could help her prevent further injuries, or doubt herself, then maybe she will survive just that much longer.

"I mean, if you don't mind. You don't have too."

[member="Kyra Perl"],
 
"I'm fine," Kyra insisted quickly, deeply unwilling to show him any weakness. She was utterly self-conscious of the fact that what was occurring between them could fall back to Romi's ears. Her idol had already seen her in poor spirits once, Kyra would be devastated for Romi to hear of it again. Can't come off pathetic, yanno?

"I'm fine." Though what she was covering this time was left unclear. Perhaps just a blanket statement? She rubbed at a sore muscle, hearing out his last offer.



Kale Seleare said:
I can maybe show you a thing or two to help you in your training?"
She bit at her lip, glancing around their small square. Was there anyone else around to witness this? She didn't think so. She hadn't heard anyone near for the last hour. Her small wave of panic slowly melted back, the girl looking back to consider him fully for the first time.

He seemed older than her. In an experienced kinda way. Which was good for this stuff, cause if he was at the same level and he kicked her butt she'd sooooo never be able to let it go. But he knew stuff, which meant Romi had taught him stuff. And if maybe she could learn one or two of those things...

"...I guess I could use someone to spar with. But you can't expect great things from me!" She rattled off quickly, trying to dismiss her mistakes before they could happen. "I've been at it all day!"
 
Good Men Don't Need Rules
"I'm fine." is what she continued to say. Even as a lonely farmer boy who has only dated a girl once, knew that it was a lie. Well, more so she just didn't want to talk about whatever was really hitting her mind and preventing her from pushing forward. And that is one of the things my father always told me about. No matter what job you do, if you have your mind focused on something else, something not related to the task at hand, you will mess up, fall behind, or learn incorrectly. Master Romi only strengthened that idea when she set me on training. Teaching me that the best I can do is to focus on the task at hand and nothing else.

Kyra seemed so... dense with thoughts running through her. I could easily see it written upon her face. Something other than the coming wars was troubling her. Something that shook her to her core. It would continue to harm her and hinder her if she let it fester like an infected wound. While it may hurt to clean it, and to remove the debris from the wound, in the long run, it made the healing process easier.

"Kyra, everyone is at different levels of their training. All I expect is for you to try your best. Comparing yourself to others only hinders you."

To be honest, my statement wasn't entirely false. It was true. Comparing yourself to someone, about something you cannot change, will not help you reach your goal. However, using them as a starting point, or a jumping point to propel yourself forward into something greater, such as rivalry or friendly sparring matches, where you are competing, can also aid you. Kyra though? I hated thinking this. I hated even having it cross my mind, but she wasn't a warrior. She wasn't the person who could hold a blade on the front line and stand toe to toe with whatever comes her way. So for her to worry about comparing herself to others, how well they do compared to her, would only hurt her.

At least for now. I had a feeling that she could be much better. It was a gut of seeing something. A potential within someone. Kyra had it. It was there. Everyone knew it. Except her.

"So what were you practicing when you injured your thumb? Just swings? Stance? Specific moves?"

[member="Kyra Perl"],
 
“Shii Cho,” Kyra whispered, looking away from Kale and his advice. She had the strangest sensation that he doubted her. That he thought she was weak, or incapable or that--... no, that she didn’t belong here.

I mean she felt it too, so he was she to rag on him for sensing the truth about her. There was just something horrible about your favorite person’s padawan seeing your faults and holding it to you.

The little empath swallowed hard, a sheen of fire in her eyes as she pulled her gaze up to his.

“Master Yuroic took me on on his own. I’m not even his padawan, he just thought I had so much potentional.” --Ahem, a twisted way to say he noticed she was severly lacking in saber play and needed to improve.

He had advised her not to compare herself to others, but she pushed into doing it once more-- only this time instead of trashing on herself she was boasting. There seemed to be no rhyme or reason to the switch, Kyra didn’t even comprehend that she was responding to what she had sensed.

She just felt something and responded. In typical Kyra fasion. She held out her hand, a wood practicing sword jumping into her other as well. She held it out to him, a brow raised.

“I’ve been to four different academies. I’ve been trained by the best-- what about you? Only Romi then?”
 
Good Men Don't Need Rules
Shii-Cho lightsaber form. With a wooden baton. While I may have thought it would be easier and better to train with a saber, so that she could be used to the weightlessness of the blade, using a heavier weapon meant she would learn how to perform all the moves and stances with something heavier. Brute forcing her muscles to work in that stance. It made sense. However, before I could ask more, she went off. Mentioning Yuroic had trained her even though she was not his direct apprentice. Speaking of her potential. He was right. It was there. Even I could see that from a simple glance. What caught me off guard was her sudden bravado and almost pushing of the narrative that she was good at Lightsaber combat.

"If you count swinging sticks as a child, then only my teachings with Romi. However, I did get some conventional sword play from the Paladins of Adamite Tower. Not very much though."

I reached out and took the baton she was handing me. Her demeanor changed. Challenging and assertive. Not quite aggressive. Dominate over the situation. I returned the raised brow at her sudden change and let it slide for now. I had a feeling it might come up later again.

A right hand brought fingers to run through my hair. Pushing it out of my face as I took a step back from Kyra. Indicating the other baton in her own hand with my own.

"So does this mean you want to give it a shot then? Spar against each other, or just show you some stuff?"

I would rather not attack her if she thinks we are just going to swap notes. I mean, try explaining that to the council how you smacked up another student when she wasn't prepared for it. I'd rather not get in trouble.
 
Ha! He didn't have very much training. She was golden, her ego said. Which by now, was a thing she should have been learning not to listen to.

Kyra was a slow learner, alright?

"Yeah, I'm sure," she asserted, bouncing on her toes. Yuroic had been trying to train that display out of her. It did no good to be bouncy and flamboyant. It certainly did nothing for her form. But his lessons were quickly slipping out the window in this face of Kale. Her need to prove herself broke the flood gate of control, leaving her to bouncing on the training floor like an energizer bunny.

How good could he be anyway? A twentysomething padawan? He must be slow.

Or maybe she was reflecting her faults onto him. But such rational thinking was never known to reach the paddie, a grew cracking over her face as she raised her practice sword to him.

"What'd you say?" She gave a testing strike, jabbing predictably right for his center gut. "Not scared?"
 

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