Let's Find Some Promise

[Matsu Xiangu]

[SIZE=9pt] Matsu, for all her misgivings about the apprentice she’d found at random, was determined to at least start things off on the right foot. That way if the girl proved a disappointment it couldn’t be said she hadn’t tried. It wasn’t the way she was used to finding apprentices – at random, walking home – but she’d heard it said that sometimes people were brought together by circumstance and fate. She was romantic enough to believe in such notions…and yet still she had no enthusiasm for the student that she was waiting on now.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=9pt] Misha wasn’t late. Matsu was just, as usual, on time. She was sitting quietly in one of the training rooms in the Pit though a fighter she was borrowing for the time being from the Fringe’s armory was waiting for them in the nearest hanger. She didn’t intend on being on the planet for long. There was something to be said for the rote lessons of “tilt your saber this way, now tilt it that way” but those were utterly boring and Matsu had no patience for things that didn’t get her heart pumping.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=9pt] The Knight truly had no idea what Misha wanted from her. They had left the landing bays of Annaj in relative silence, Misha’s face arranged in some comical gesture of puzzling Matsu out, while Matsu was typically unaffected by anything that wasn’t spectacularly morbid or strange. They had spoken briefly, long enough for Matsu to explain what would be expected of Misha (don’t muck around in your quarters and break things, don’t try and kill me, all the usual particulars) before she had left for things that interested her more. They had never discussed what it was Misha wanted to know, what specifics she was craving. But Matsu wondered if she would even know what to ask – she seemed relatively uneducated in the Force and its basics, which meant she wouldn’t know most of what was open to her.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=9pt] In the right hands she would be a weapon and Matsu saw the value of that. But she believed most of all in freedom, of watching someone blossom in to something unwaveringly terrible and dangerous. She wouldn’t mind a hand in creating a monster.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=9pt] That just remained to be seen.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=9pt][member="Misha Alkaev"][/SIZE]​

 

[Misha Alkaev]

Misha, as it seems, was determined as ever. She walked down the hallways that lead to the training room Matsu had directed her to in relative silence, the only sound that followed her was her light footsteps. She knew she wasn’t very knowledgeable in the Force, and all the endless things that were open to her, though she did know of it, of different Force abilities. Misha wanted to prove to her Master that she wasn’t useless, that she was more than meets the eye. She knew she didn’t look strong, hell her frame was relatively tiny, but it had its benefits. Her mind was a lot stronger than her frame, and she had a feeling that this would benefit her, and Matsu didn’t look the Saber wielding type.

Misha’s brain rarely ever stopped working, and ever since their first meeting in Annaj, her brain seemed to go into overdrive. She had left, wondering if, this hadn’t fallen into her lap perfectly. If Misha was right, Matsu worked more with the mind, Telekinesis, Telepathy, Illusions, that sort of thing. This just so happened to be exactly what Misha was drawn to most.

She made it to the training room and slipped inside to see Matsu sitting there, and wondered for a moment if she was late. Though this she knew to be untrue. She, like Matsu, wanted to start this off on the right foot, even if her Master seemed to brush her off almost, she gave her a smile, and bowed slightly in greeting.

She was ready to begin, and if she were to admit it, she was ready for whatever was going to be thrown at her.

[member="Matsu Xiangu"]​

 

[Matsu Xiangu]

[SIZE=9pt] Matsu looked up when the doors slid open to reveal her newest apprentice. A smile and a bow – how…polite. She wondered at the girl’s past, a thing she did not know enough about her to have asked for and something she’d not dug for in Misha’s mind. Matsu made it a habit of using her strengths only when she needed them. It was less a moral decision than an act of conservation and self-restraint. Being unchecked had cost her – it would not happen again. She loved who she was now, but it had come with a great sacrifice, her flesh being the least of her worries. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=9pt] Misha’s behavior put the Atrisian in the mind of the Jedi who she used to frequent in the halls of the Confederacy and she struggled to put away the association, knowing it would never work if she saw the girl as kin to that which she’d left behind in hatred.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=9pt] She wants your help – the one chance is now. Freedom. Give her the chance.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=9pt] “Misha, welcome…” The Pit was aptly named, a complex deep in the ground though its outdoor areas looked right up in to the blistering red of Annaj. She waved her hand as if the girl should join her where she sat, her legs crossed beneath each other on the floor with her robes long and splayed in a circle around her. (She had a touch for the dramatic in her fashion, bright or dark, hard edges and soft lace, Matsu craved the finer things in this.) Once the girl was seated she took a moment, studying her with eye so dark that even if they’d given away a hint of what she was thinking it would be hidden somewhere in her oceanic depths. “You told me you want help with the Force, but I’m not even sure what you understand of it. It is limited only by your imagination…but what can you imagine?”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=9pt][member="Misha Alkaev"][/SIZE]​

 

[Misha Alkaev]

Misha moved to sit after Matsu had motioned her to, watching as her Master studied her. Misha did this enough to know exactly what it looked like when someone was doing the same thing to her, and wondered what Matsu was thinking. She expected her next question, and because of this she felt confident in answering her. “I imagine there are a lot of things you can do with your mind, incredible things, with the help of the Force. I imagine that you happen to be one of the ones who are very skilled in things like Illusions…Telepathy, Telekinesis. This is what I’m most interested in. It calls to me the most.”

She let herself take in her surroundings in the pit, doing a quick assessment before returning her attention fully to Matsu. Words formed, in the little gears of her mind, working and clicking together forming a sentence that Misha has only just recently come to terms with herself, knowing with the wrong person her brashness would get her into trouble.

"Something told me, the day we had met that you were more familiar than most with the aforementioned. That's why I approached you, I knew you could help me. Help me realize what I'm truly capable of."

​

[member="Matsu Xiangu"] ​

 

[Matsu Xiangu]

[SIZE=9pt] She’d felt it the first time they’d spoken and every interaction since then with Misha had felt as if she were speaking to a droid – a startlingly sentient droid, one that just as soft and fleshy as any of its human counterparts, but mechanical nonetheless. It was something about the way she never relaxed, how she seemed to hold her limps at odd angles like she was preparing for any reaction that might be expected of her. Even over the odd holoconnection they’d made to discuss meeting times she’d been strangely absent…like she was thinking so much she couldn’t be fully committed to a conversation.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=9pt] Matsu wondered if she was too logical for rage.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=9pt] The Sith was atypical in her view of the Force, branching slightly from the idea that many of her fellow dark siders chose to practice. Rage was her bedrock, feeding on the fear and pain of others an added bonus. But where some might explode, let their rage take them to heights of power unimaginable even to other practitioners of the Force, Matsu had learned to harness that rage. She had learned to freeze like ice, to concentrate her rage in to a ball so tightly packed that the string of power she managed to draw from it was pure, thick hate. It made for something just as deadly as her counterparts who halved planets to their cores.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=9pt] But she wondered if Misha was capable of such a thing. She seemed so calculated as to be inhuman, almost as if she didn’t feel at all. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=9pt] Matsu was surprised when Misha said she got the feeling Xiangu was known for her work with mentalism and illusions. As far as she was concerned she was a good practitioner, dedicated to her art and specialized beyond comprehension, but she was not renowned. Perhaps the girl had gleaned more from her brief meeting with her Master than Matsu had given her credit for. Regardless, she ran her tongue along the inside of her cheek as she thought before answering. “I’m hardly the only person to specialize in telekinesis. We’re a dime a dozen, though some can use it in more creative and deadly ways,” she answered, speaking from the experience of facing off with bonafide telekinesis whizzes. “Mentalism is somewhat the same – there are many that practice its more rudimentary applications, and even quite a few that master it’s more difficult capabilities. But there are some who unlock more,” she finished, leaving out the assertion that she explored those darker and ruined places the mind was capable of plumbing.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=9pt] “I’ve heard you speak in to my mind. The mind will come in time but first…” She turned her head, pointing to a stack of saber parts lying on a table along the side of the room. “Bring those to me. Without getting up.”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=9pt] She looked almost bored as she waited to see what Misha would do.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=9pt][member="Misha Alkaev"][/SIZE]​

 

[Misha Alkaev]

Misha had learned, long ago, that for her, bottling up her emotions was better than letting them out. To think, let them stir and fill up every fiber of her being, but never let it out, because when she let it out, odd things happened. Things she had yet to learn how to control.


There was an incident when she was young, Misha had gotten into a fight with her Father. It started off small enough, him yelling at her for knocking over his drink when she was playing, though it never stayed that way for long. Before she knew it, she could feel it; it bubbled up slowly, starting from her core and spreading until she felt it in every nerve, almost as if electricity was coursing through her. It started with the table, it shook, along with the contents on it, slowly lifting into the air, the chairs followed next, and eventually her Father, the moment she realized what was happening her eyes widened, and everything came clattering to the ground, before her Father could say anything, she ran, holed herself up in her room, scared and confused as to what had happened. She was six at the time.


Since then, they came in bursts, whenever she got overly excited, happy, depressed, angry, too stressed, and Misha felt that, if she couldn’t control it, the best way to stop it was to stop feeling. This was a lot harder than she thought.


Misha of course, had knowledge of the Force, knowledge that not everyone had it within them, but what she did know, was that she did, and that she was never going to learn how to control it, how to figure out what she really was capable of, unless she went out and found someone, someone powerful, and willing to teach her. She had trusted her instinct, and when she saw Matsu, she knew, just knew, that out of anyone she could have stumbled upon, she was the right person.


So sitting there now, in the training room with her, she wasn’t surprised when Matsu had requested that Misha bring her the saber parts, without getting up, she worried though, slightly if she would be able to do it. Letting her Master down was something Misha did not want to do. Nodding her head she didn’t answer her, instead focusing on the saber parts, eyes trained on them as if they might disappear if she were to look away. The only emotion she felt was a strong confidence, wanting to prove her worth, prove that she could do it, and after a few moments of quiet, of nothing happening, they started lifting, piece by piece until they were all floating above the ground.


Misha had never beckoned anything to her before, but this didn’t deter her from what she wanted. After a few moments, she let out a little yelp, the parts suddenly coming flying at her, though she let the feeling go, and they dropped rather roughly into her lap. She was honestly worried for a moment, they’d fly across the room, or worse hit her or her Master in the face.


Riding a bit high on the feeling of what she just did, she forgot all about bottling up her emotions for the moment, a bright grin that shined even in her eyes appearing on her face as she looked to Matsu, holding a few pieces of the saber parts in her hands. I can’t believe I actually just did that.


“Did you need the saber parts for anything in particular? Or was this a test?”

[member="Matsu Xiangu"]​

 

[Matsu Xiangu]

It was easy, she thinks, to forget where you started if you weren’t careful. Unlike many Sith she encountered she found it important to be humble if only as a winning strategy than for any truly moralistic purpose. Remembering that once it had been confusing to lift multiple objects at once instead of something she could do without thought would ensure she never became complacent – she would never underestimate an opponent because she was so full of herself, even if now she could work with physics and telekinetic force in her sleep.

Matsu had first manifested the Force at a very young age – so young she had no idea what she was doing was abnormal and instead was rather confused when her parents started running around the room attempting to push everything back down where it belonged. It usually came, for her, along with a sense of wonder. Fascination caused a sensation that had things lifted and spinning and shifting beyond her control. She wasn’t especially prone to anger despite drawing power from it if only because her rage was quiet and she was slow to it. But when it was there, things exploded. It was a confusing time for anyone, she was sure. And even more so if your family was unfamiliar or suspicious of your power. There were still cultures and cults with fear of the Force or complete ignorance of its existence until a unique individual was born to their community.

Matsu’s face was completely impassive as Misha brought the pieces of what could become a lightsaber – clumsy, but successful. She erected a small barrier in front of herself when it seemed they might strike the pair (though not around Misha, as the girl could learn from a bit of pain) but they never came close and eventually settled in her Apprentice’s lap.

“Astute,” she said quietly, pressing a thumb lightly against one of her fangs out of absent habit before pulling a small red crystal from within the pockets sewn in to her dress, the same that held her saber. If Misha didn't like the color - and it was becoming increasingly apparent she was cut from a cloth Matsu didn't hold - she could search out her own crystal. Holding it up, she let the light catch its bloody colors. “This is a saber crystal. It’s not like the Jedi’s. They collect theirs, some show of ‘bonding’ with the crystal that will be theirs. Sith make their own. Have this one, make your saber. You’ll know what to do when you set your mind to the task,” she offered before tossing the crystal to her Apprentice.

It was still bothering her how her Apprentice had mentioned knowing Matsu’s strengths. It was growing increasingly hard to maintain anonymity with how often her face was showing up lately, news of her assistance in invasions, her work within corporations around the Galaxy. But she tried, and she made it a point to keep exactly what she was capable of a secret. That this Misha claimed to know so much was…troubling. With the same characteristic lack of expression she reached out and tore Misha’s mind open, sifting through information and ripping apart what she could in the search for something more sinister. There would be pain for the girl – unspeakable, a torture though Matsu was not actively looking for that outcome.

This can end one of two ways.​

Show me who you are little girl, or the outcome will be the one I’m certain you don’t prefer.​

​

[member="Misha Alkaev"]​