Private Jedi In A Rage Room

[Kahlil Noble]

Rage rooms were.. Something very new to Kahlil. The idea was simple. Go in, let all your aggression out on trash and breakables. It honestly sounded almost cathartic. If a bit dangerous, especially for Jedi. The whole 'don't act in anger or hate' was a pretty important line for Jedi to never cross. And yet, bottling that up, suppressing it. Refusing to accept it, that was a danger far worse. He idly adjusted the protection suit they'd both been provided, snickering under his breath. It seemed a little excessive how much protection they were being given, but most people didn't know how to break things safely.

"You all good?"

He turned his masked gaze towards Cora, smiling ever kindly behind the mesh. He'd heard what happened. Valery shared with him everything Cora allowed her to. Parental abuse, he couldn't understand it. Even his father, as absolutely cruel as he was, was a man grown on Sith ideology. Corrupted beyond life by the Dark. This Duke von Ascania, a man with no ties to the Sith, no ties to some dark cult, though. To be so cruel to his own family for simple and pure greed, he just couldn't wrap his head around it.

But that's not what he was here to do. He didn't need to understand her father to understand how she felt. He lifted up the bat they'd been given, handing it her way.

"First swings yours. Just, no Force."

Corazona von Ascania

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

"Um,"

Cora received the bat from Kahlil, gingerly testing the weight of it in her hand. This Rage Room, an entirely new concept for her, was the last place she'd expected to be.

Today's meeting had been set up by her Master and Kahlil's wife, Valery Noble. Cora was uncomfortable with anyone knowing the details behind the bruises on her back, but she couldn't deny the small measure of relief she felt in telling Valery. She'd trusted the Jedi Master to relay her concerns tactfully to Kahlil. So far, only the Nobles and Makko knew about what she'd gone through at the hands of her father.

"Are you sure about this?" Turning towards the broken holotv, Cora looked from the bat in her hand then back to Kahlil. Acting aggressively on anger and breaking things was almost as taboo as speaking about family troubles outside of the family. It was uncouth and unladylike.

But Kahlil was clam, pleasant, and nonjudgmental. He put at at ease, somewhat. His dad was a well known Sith Lord, and she figured that whatever he'd had to endure was a thousand times worse.

Looking back to the holotv, Cora sighed and tightened her grip around the bat. Reeling her arms back, she swung toward the defunct device with one clean swipe.

The bat made contact with the screen, sending spiderweb cracks spiraling through the glass.

It was a very polite strike.

"Er, you're up?" Cora stepped back and offered Kahlil the bat, awkwardly adjusting the protective mask over her face.

Kahlil Noble

 

[Kahlil Noble]

Kahlil watched patiently. Kept a calm smile on his face, as ever. The almost mask like facade he'd learned to put on as a Sith at such a young age. And already he could see she had the same. He stared at the bat as she handed it to him. Then raised a hand to push it back her way.

"That's not a swing." He turned his gaze to the television, the cracked screen. "Keep your back straight." He nodded once to the television. "Eyes forward." He lifted a hand, motioning to a vase. "Speak only when spoken to." A mirror. "Don't ever dare to show tears." An electronic, one presumably made to play music. Once upon a time. "Every lesson you were ever taught. They're here."

He lowered his hand, turning to give her a smile. Not the usual calm. Something realer, sadder. "A Jedi acts not in emotion. But if we don't know our emotions, how are we supposed to? It's okay to feel. It's okay to be angry or sad. It's okay to let it out here. For once, just let yourself feel."

Corazona von Ascania

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Cora's gaze bounced from the tv, to the vase, to the mirror, to the music player.

Her throat constricted as Kahlil rattled off each lesson she'd been taught with frightening accuracy. Something prickled the back of her neck. Her hand tightened around the bat, and she looked down at it. The smooth, polished wood was reminiscent of her father's cane.

The Padawan swallowed thickly. Already she was uncomfortable, and now she was feeling a little sick.

"Oh, I'm not angry." She insisted. Cora wasn't trying to lie, but she couldn't quite make sense of the complicated tangle of feelings as they whirled inside her mind.

She looked to Kahlil's smile. Something in it was understanding enough to give her pause.

Is it really okay to be mad? To let it all out?

Cora looked from him, to the bat, to the tv, then back to Kahlil. That wasn't how she'd been raised, but something was beginning to break through the carefully constructed layers of control that had been forced onto her over the years.

"How…how much did she tell you?"

Kahlil Noble

 

[Kahlil Noble]

"No, you're not. But sometimes anger will help you sort those feelings out." Burying emotion of any kind always lead to anger. It was part of what he was taught as a Sith. Be pushed to the breaking point and find new power in the fallout. Grant it, that's not what he was here to help with. He wasn't here to teach her anything. Just give her the chance to let it out before it came out on it's own.

It always would.

His gaze turned back to the television, just staring at the cracked screen as he kept the sad smile on his face. Perhaps it wasn't a Sith thing at all then. Just a mark of nobility.

"No specifics, asides from the bruises. There are some things she has to tell me as I'd have to tell her as a Jedi Master. But everything else? I didn't want her to. It's yours to tell to who you want to. Those lessons are just the same I was forced to learn as a boy. Nobility is a standard you can never slip below, right?"

Again he motioned to the television.

"They're wrong, though. All those rules. They don't matter for you, just for him. Tell him how you feel about those rules. Let it out. Break his stupid rules and let yourself be you, even if it's just here."

Corazona von Ascania

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Cora followed Kahlil's gesture towards the television. Her eyes lingered, tracing the thin web of cracks as if there'd be any answers there.

Her gaze fell to the bat, tightening her slack grip around it just enough to keep it in place as she gave it an experimental twirl. She felt the weight of the wood as it rose and fell, then refocused back on Kahlil.

"Those rules are everything that I know. They've shaped me into the person that I am."

The Padawan's head tilted to the side as she frowned in thought. Was that a good thing or a bad thing? Father's methods were harsh, but they got results. On some level she knew that it was wrong, but until now Cora didn't have anything to compare her own upbringing with.

"What if I don't know who I am without those rules?"

Kahlil Noble

 

[Kahlil Noble]

"That's why you should break them."

Kahlil let out a sigh, rubbing at the back of his neck. Gone was the smile. Talking about this, about what happened to him, what was currently happening to her, it wasn't something he could keep even a forced smile for. Nor did he really know how to talk about it. Who else had he? Not Valery, not any of the Jedi. They knew he'd gone through something, and Valery had seen visions of what happened.

But he never talked about it. "I didn't know who else to be growing up. I was a Sith, who could use sorcery. .. I had to be a Sith. I had to figure out new spells and new tricks and how to master the Force and bend it to my will. If I didn't-" He paused, still rubbing at the back of his neck. Where the mark had been. "If I couldn't prove I was worth being alive, my father would have used me as a vessel. Erased me, who I am. In that fear, I lived the life he set out for me, in desperation and fear. It took someone else, an old friend who I was trying to kill of all things, to tell me I could have a life. Give me an out."

He let his hand drop.

"Break them. All of them. Every rule you've been forced to stomach and shoulder. Then find who you are and who you want to be."

Corazona von Ascania

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Cora watched Kahlil carefully. There was a lot you could tell about a person from their body language—especially when you came from a society where what you felt was secondary to what you said.

Feelings were unsightly. Anger and discomfort had no place in a courtly facade. Here, she made no attempt to hide the way sympathy etched into the lines of her face, how it turned her eyes soft. What Kahlil described was far worse than what Cora had been subjected to, but at least now there was a tenuous thread of understanding between them.

"How'd you do it? What did your friend do to convince you that things could be different?"

Cora circled around the television. She took note of the thin plastoid casing hugging the screen, the ridges that spiraled from the crack she'd made in the center. Raising a leg, she planted her foot against the back of the unit and shoved it to the floor.

There was something satisfying in the sound of loud, broken tumble it took to the duracrete ground. Looming over the busted device, Cora observed the jagged split that newly scored the side of the television, watched shards of glass from the screen clatter to the floor. Fine particles caught the light as they trickled to the floor like diamond dust.

What would it feel like, she imagined, if that was her father crumpled to the floor, broken and subdued, instead of herself?

Cora's jaw tensed. Revenge wasn't an appropriate thought, but it was tantalizing. She felt an immediate pang of regret for it.

Finding out who she was without heeding the rules and lessons she'd been taught felt like sacrilege.

More than that, it felt terrifying.

Kahlil Noble

 

[Kahlil Noble]

"She called me out on my bullshit attempt to threaten her and told me if I was scared I should run. So I did. For the first time I let myself feel everything I'd felt I couldn't, and when those emotions finally settled, I found my path."

There it was.

Regret. Even after everything her father had done, just watching a screen and imagining it was his rules or him or something about him, it still filled her with regret. The first crack in her mask that they both knew they needed to form growing up. He stepped over, crouching low to get eye level with her, even with the actual masks they still had on.

"It's terrifying. It's horrible. Everything you've gone through, everything you're feeling now. Don't leave the mask on. Let it go, Cora. Let yourself feel everything your father denied you. You'll fall apart, you'll feel lost and confused, but you will find yourself. Your real self. You don't have to now, or tomorrow, or next week. But when you realize you aren't the scared girl your father treats you like, that you're brave and just, come here. Let it all out so you can heal."

Corazona von Ascania

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Cora fought the instinct to pull back when Kahlil stooped to make eye contact.

Don't leave the mask on.

Teeth found her lower lip, biting restlessly. It was supremely uncomfortable to be read so accurately, even if Kahlil was gentle and accepting.

"I'm not scared." Came her mild protest. "It's just…"

She was scared. Cora turned to the television and rested the bat against it's broken casing. Crouching down, she retrieved a shard of glass from the shattered screen. She held it carefully, tilting it to see how each subtle angle caught and bent the light.

"I have seven younger siblings. Even if I didn't have all of...this on my shoulders," The Padawan gestured vaguely with her free hand. "I'm still responsible for them. I want to be responsible for them. They're my family and I love them."

She observed her own distorted reflection in the glass fragment, brows creasing in frustration.

"I can't leave them behind, but I don't know how to...don't know...I don't really know what I'm trying to say."

Her fingers eased, letting the shard fall and shatter against the floor. Glass splinters scattered beneath them.

Kahlil Noble

 

[Kahlil Noble]

"You can't be responsible for them as you are now."

It was the honest truth. And one she needed to hear. Not just so she could move on as a Jedi, but as a person. He kept the calm smile, trying to keep the air of kindness around him, but he understood what she was saying. And the difficulty of facing it, sometimes just needed a blunt truth.

"Your father beats you, Cora. No father should ever raise a hand against their children," Unless of course, they wanted to learn martial arts. But that was besides the point right now, so he bit that part back. Focus on the truth.

"But he has. If you follow his path, let him marry you off, you won't be there anymore to shield them. And he will hit them. He will blame them, as he has blamed you, because that is the type of person he is. As you are now, you can't save them from him."

Finally he stood. This time reaching up to take hold of the television himself. Lift it up in his hands to look it over. Set it back on the little stand it had been on.

"We can stop here. Come back when you're ready, or find some other way. But until you're ready to face your emotions head on.." He let out a sigh. ".. It's not your responsibility to care for your siblings. It's a parents job to protect them. But I understand. And if you want to protect them, you need to know how to care for yourself. You need to heal."

Corazona von Ascania

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Cora's jaw tightened. Tension ran though her body, curling the hand that had been holding the glass shard into a fist.

Everything that Kahlil said had stung acutely, like alcohol pouring over an open wound. Cora grimaced and turned away. The fact that we was being so kind and gentle made her shame burn hotly.

But he was right.

She'd wouldn't admit as much. Not yet, anyway.

"You don't understand," Cora ground out from behind gritted teeth, clinging to the modicum of courtly decorum she had left. "I'm not some...some...sad, pitiful, abused child. I'm not broken! There's nothing for me to heal from."

Closing her eyes, Cora exhaled sharply and took a few moments to steady herself. Her hands unclenched slowly, resting motionless by her side. It wouldn't do to snap at a Jedi Master, and she'd come dangerously close.

"I'm sorry." Eyes fluttered back open, fixing Kahlil with a firm, apologetic gaze. "I've forgotten my manners."

Kahlil Noble

 

[Kahlil Noble]

For a moment, there was real emotion. Then it was buried, right under the layers of trained discipline and forced manners. Kahlil was quiet, his silver eyes watching her from behind the protective mask he had on as he tried to decide just what to do.

".. I'm not going to push you. But you're not broken, Cora. Don't ever think you're broken. You are hurt. But you are not broken." His gaze shifted to the rage room around them.

"You want some lunch? We can come back some other time."

Corazona von Ascania

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

It would have been easier, Cora realized, if Kahlil had yelled back. Or struck her for her insolence. Those reactions she understood. Kindness in the face of her attitude did not make sense.

On some level, the rational part of her mind understood that Kahlil was only trying to make her feel safe. Cora was no longer so sheltered that she believed her upbringing to be the norm in a vast galaxy with an array of varying cultures.

But she was uncomfortable, and it showed. She didn’t know how to deal with this mix of unsettling feelings.

Her eyes found the television he'd placed back on the mount. The screen and casing had cracked under the weight of her anger.

How many lashes would she have received on Ukatis for that?

"You're too kind." She murmured. Part of her wanted to simply curl up into a ball of blankets and bedding, but turning down his invitation felt wrong.

"If you truly don't mind." Her acceptance came with a low gurgle from her stomach. Cora placed a hand to her abdomen and frowned.

Kahlil Noble

 

[Kahlil Noble]

He was about to say she could just head back to her room or wherever else she wanted to feel comfortable. It wasn't hard for him to gauge that she wasn't really wanting to be here any longer. But the gurgle of her stomach was enough for him to chuckle and nod his head. Lunch it was, if only because she was clearly hungry.

"You like burgers, by chance?"

Corazona von Ascania

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

"I do." Cora responded smoothly.

Reaching behind her head, the Padawan unlatched the safety mask and pulled it away from her head. She found helmets to be stifling unless there was some sort of air circulation, which was why she seemed a bit calmer after inhaling deeply.

"Do you know a good spot?"

Kahlil Noble

 

[Kahlil Noble]

"A couple. Depends on what you're in the mood for. Greasy, you'll hate yourself later but you'll love yourself now, or this is too much but I'm going to finish any bite anyway?"

Kahlil turned to head out the room then, pulling off his own helmet, casually pulling off the protection suit itself. If they weren't going to stay in here, why keep such a stuffy outfit on?

"I'm partial for regretting it later, myself."

Corazona von Ascania