Resident President Meme
Hours.
Darlyn had spent hours now, doing nothing but meditating. Thinking about what was to come, where his path was taking him. He had spent his lifetime running, trying to escape what had come of him, though he was too proud to admit it aloud. He had spent his lifetime fighting against something more than Sith, or Jedi, or ideologies at all for that matter. He had been fighting against something inescapable, all mighty, and chosen for him long before he had the power to choose or defy it.
Darlyn had been fighting against Destiny.
Not what he had been born into, not the fate his mother would have given him. He had been fighting against the path laid before him on Arkania by his Master. His friendships, his new family, his love, these things were all that had let him for so long defy that path. Were it not for the likes of NPC Treasury and her children, like his nephew Caedyn Arenais, he would have long since succumbed to this fate. They gave him everything, everything.
And now he would give back. He would be teaching here, on the world that had changed him so greatly, to give others the smallest glimpse into his knowledge of a single, beloved power of his. Here on Commenor, in the Jedi temple of all places, he would teach padawans, knights, masters, whoever cared to show the power known as Force Body. He used that power to great effect before, to the point he would consider mastery, and knew it to be necessary should these students of his to survive without a solid plate of armor. A part of him hoped that Caedyn himself would show, if not to learn then to see what had come of Darlyn, what had brought him to be teaching Jedi, a group he had often called hypocrites, and on occasion far worse, one of his greatest powers. But of course he knew such was not likely, as times had become tough for him. He only could hope that he would get the chance to tell him how he felt before...
The Dojo in the temple was where he had set himself up. A group of medical staff on standby, in the event one of the students overexerted themselves to the point of injury, and multiple baskets of apples set behind him. In the center he was kneeling, still meditating, waiting. He had done everything he could to prepare for the students, set fliers, posters, everything he could think of short of parading temple to temple with a marching band. With luck, they would be comfortable arriving despite the darksider meditating, centering himself around that power.
He would give them a piece of himself, so that he would feel comfortable when destiny came.
Darlyn had spent hours now, doing nothing but meditating. Thinking about what was to come, where his path was taking him. He had spent his lifetime running, trying to escape what had come of him, though he was too proud to admit it aloud. He had spent his lifetime fighting against something more than Sith, or Jedi, or ideologies at all for that matter. He had been fighting against something inescapable, all mighty, and chosen for him long before he had the power to choose or defy it.
Darlyn had been fighting against Destiny.
Not what he had been born into, not the fate his mother would have given him. He had been fighting against the path laid before him on Arkania by his Master. His friendships, his new family, his love, these things were all that had let him for so long defy that path. Were it not for the likes of NPC Treasury and her children, like his nephew Caedyn Arenais, he would have long since succumbed to this fate. They gave him everything, everything.
And now he would give back. He would be teaching here, on the world that had changed him so greatly, to give others the smallest glimpse into his knowledge of a single, beloved power of his. Here on Commenor, in the Jedi temple of all places, he would teach padawans, knights, masters, whoever cared to show the power known as Force Body. He used that power to great effect before, to the point he would consider mastery, and knew it to be necessary should these students of his to survive without a solid plate of armor. A part of him hoped that Caedyn himself would show, if not to learn then to see what had come of Darlyn, what had brought him to be teaching Jedi, a group he had often called hypocrites, and on occasion far worse, one of his greatest powers. But of course he knew such was not likely, as times had become tough for him. He only could hope that he would get the chance to tell him how he felt before...
The Dojo in the temple was where he had set himself up. A group of medical staff on standby, in the event one of the students overexerted themselves to the point of injury, and multiple baskets of apples set behind him. In the center he was kneeling, still meditating, waiting. He had done everything he could to prepare for the students, set fliers, posters, everything he could think of short of parading temple to temple with a marching band. With luck, they would be comfortable arriving despite the darksider meditating, centering himself around that power.
He would give them a piece of himself, so that he would feel comfortable when destiny came.