My Kind

[Placeholder 04]

This was odd.

Cyril normally did not engage in conversation will beginning the healing process. It was difficult enough to begin with; distractions just made things more difficult. When she first spoke, it did not register to the Jedi Master. He had gone through this process a dozen times in the past. - this intimacy that Tionne experienced was nowhere near as overwhelming. He was tempered and experienced, albeit a bit cruel and all-too-certain in his beliefs.

"Something wrong?" He breathed as she settled her hand over his own. Such was usually the sign of an issue - had he done his job wrong. With a quiet sigh, Cyril opened his eyes and inspected Thanewulf. There was nothing wrong with her, so far as he could tell.

Perhaps the experience alone made her wish for some kind of stability. That explained the hand, at the very least.

"It's good to know that you trust me, though I'd surmised as much when you agreed to combat training," he mused, "Most wouldn't."

There was the bond, too. It was a brief thing, a simple connection of sorts. Cyril could not pick up thoughts, though he could make our emotions within the murk. Interesting.

"I've almost finished," he shifted his gaze to meet her's, "Your bones are fragile, but easily rebuilt - you'll need a bit of rest."

He paused. "Are you okay?" Cyril asked plainly. The use of the title, the depth of her words, the clinging, it was unusual. Something was clearly off.

[member="Tionne Thanewulf"]

 

[Zonia Kalranoos]

"No!" Tionne exclaimed, her hand suddenly pushing his palm away from her shoulder. The process was almost complete, with most damage repaired. Her skin was still purple in places, and would remain so for at least a week before her own body completely mended what Cyril had broken. The pain became dull, as if someone had covered Tionne's finely attuned sensory array with a blanket. Thanewulf retreated, lifting herself up to sit merely to put distance between herself and Grayson. Such synhronicity with the Force revealed more than was visible to the naked eye; she was at risk of being read like an open book, despite her best effort to conceal the truth from Cyril.

In all truth, he was not the most tolerant man in the galaxy. His opinions were set in stone, his actions guided by a unfalliable moral compass and he was renowned for not allowing for mistakes, regardless whether somebody was a novice or an experienced Jedi. And most importantly - he hated the Sith above all and dedicated his entire life to cleansing the galactic core of the darkest penumbra that now overshadowed it. Grayson would not deviate the course he carved for himself, not even for the sake of love. In that regard, he was the truest Jedi of all, the embodiment of dedication, focus, the divine instrument of the Force. He had become a walking legend, his life story a myth before he even grew a proper beard. And yet he was so simple, friendly and willing to train - and above all, modest.

Compared to the Master that sat next to her, Tionne was a bleak semblance of a Jedi. Her soul was marred by a loss she was unable to share with anyone, let alone the iconic Jedi whom she would spend the winter with. If he knew, the Hapan would undoubtedly be banned from the Jedi and exiled to spend the remainder of her days as a hermit on some foresaken planet. Tionne was sure he would personally see to it.

"I'll be fine. It's just..." she mumbled, shaking her head - "My connection to the Force is profound, in a way that I sense everything you do, but thousandfold. This is why I mostly keep myself severed from the field. In a way, it's similar to autistic spectrum. My senses tend to overheat easily."
An actual explanation that wasn't a blatant lie! Tionne managed to flash him a faint half-smile, just to reassure him she is going to be fine.

"Jedi Guardians, like yourself, have very potent link to the Force. When I am next to you, its like standing next to a tumbling waterfall. It takes some getting used to." she explained, then gazed down in an almost dispirited manner.
"Maybe I'm not meant to be any good at combat. Maybe I should just stick to my books."

[member="Cyril Grayson"]

 

[Placeholder 04]

Well that was new.

Cyril had heard of empath's and what they could do; the things they could accomplish. Though Tionne did not claim to be one, she certainly sounded like she might be. He was unaware of her ability to sever herself from the force - even doing so temporarily had always spelled trouble for the Jedi Master. He shook his head, pushing back up to his feet as she pushed him away. He would not do what she did not want.

"I understand," he mumbled, wiping some of the excess sweat from his brow. Healing was a taxing process, especially when your patient cut you off halfway through. He was momentarily disoriented; a hand finding one of the nearby tables for stability as he regained his balance. "You've made some progress today. You took your lickings. I'd say you'll make a fine warrior."

He sat down on the coffee table. He just needed to get off his feet for a moment; to rest. He held his head in his hands and looked down at Tio, curious, "You can withstand the pain. That's a start. Most folks quit before the first session is through." He complimented, "Your tenacity will serve you well in the future."

He leaned back and gave the room a cursory glance. The healing process took time; night was beginning to fall once again.

"How are you feeling?"

[member="Tionne Thanewulf"]

 

[Zonia Kalranoos]

"I'll be fine until tommorow." she replied and nodded affirmatively - "So we can repeat the exercise."
The shadows grew longer as night approached once again. In winter days were persposterously short, with only a few hours of proper sunlight. The healing process itself took quite some time and energy, often leaving the healer exhaused. Grayson was no exception. Tionne's gaze descended to his foot which she twisted several hours ago in an attempt to counter his strike.

"I wish I could help you with your foot, but I'm afraid I don't know any other form of healing other than a simple rub." The Hapan smiled then, sinking once again into a horizontal position on the couch. The Jedi Master still sat on the coffee table, trying to regain his focus. Funnily enough, the position the two Jedi found themselves in reminded of a pyschiatrist treating his patient; there was a couch, a man with some very strong beliefs and a lost subject. Yet, instead of answering questions, Tionne opted to ask one.

"Thought about what you said yesterday...and I wonder - why do you think there is a difference in how a padawan handles interpersonal relationship - be they friendly or romantical - as compared to someone who is versed in the Force? I always though it was more a matter of innate emotional intelligence, rather than experience." she asserted, curious to hear the exact logic behind claims he presented the previous night.

"Let's entertain ourselves with the following thought; if what you say is true, a more experienced Jedi would be less emotionally volatile and more rational when dealing with matter of the heart or matters of family. But how do you gain this experience? If you want to be experienced with women, you actually have to be with women. If you want to be experienced with handling family matters, you must have a family. And we have neither." she said, then paused for a moment. Without a doubt, Tionne was very clever. The way her mind worked was wonderous in its own way.
"If experience is not the argument, then it just must be a perk which comes with rank. What would you say?" she inquired, gently challenging him to prove internal consistency of his arguments.

[member="Cyril Grayson"]

 

[Placeholder 04]

"I wouldn't be averse to that," Cyril snickered, though his humor disappeared as she switched to a heavier topic. At the very least, Tionne was considerate with her questions this time. She wasn't throwing her weight around. That alone was progress.

"It's not about experience Tionne. A padawan is not fully dedicated to the force yet. Lust can drive them down a darker path; they simply don't have the faculties to control their base urges yet." He smiled, "Padawans are usually young as well. When you're young, your hormones are a bit wild. It's harder to make a sound decision. When you've become an adult, you can think with a clearer mind. Your dedication to the force upon attaining the rank of Knight will be commendable as well - a padawan just can't cope with the needs of a healthy relationship."

He spoke quietly and did not mince words. Tionne deserved her answer.

"The experience is not physical. Once you've become a Knight, you should know the difference between love and lust. You should know if a relationship would be healthy, or detrimental. Our first duty is to the force, everything else is secondary. That is something that was as Jedi need to accept. There are cases of some padawans being ready, but I speak for the majority. It is a mature of maturity, both mental and spiritual."

[member="Tionne Thanewulf"]

 

[Zonia Kalranoos]

"Quite reasonable." Tionne reflected upon his argument, ribbing her chin lightly as she gave Grayson's arguments further thought. The temperature in the room was beginning to drop further with the onset of the night, her own breath now forming puffs of condensed steam as she spoke. Someone would have to start the fireplace if the two were not going to freeze to death once the sun would be completely dipped behind the horizon. Tionne drew a blanket over herself, snuggling under it as she rubbed bare feet together to warm herself.

"How do we explain the fact that Jedi had to take a vow of celibacy during the days of the Old Republic? This rule was effectively enforced over thousands of years, with very few Jedi contesting it. Perhaps this was not as optimal as they thought it would be." she offered, aiming to explain her exposition further.

"As a biologist, I know living organisms have two purposes; survival and reproduction. The Jedi forego the last objective, by their own choice. Today we have Jedi who marry and have children, but lets instead adopt a historical perspective. More than a thousand years ago, Jedi were strongly discouraged from romantical engagement. We know this for a fact, from holochrons and historical records." Tionne asserted, then went on to explain the main point of her argument.

"In good times, such as millenium-long periods of peace, such a tactic can be implemented since the fear of padawans straying was greater than fear of not having a sufficient supply of Jedi, if you know what I mean. The only way Jedi had an influx of new Force-users into their ranks was through the dedication of Jedi Watchmen who brought newborns to the Order. Hence, the only source of new Jedi was through natural mutation, instead of inheritance of genes from current Force users. And this tactic was fine when you had ten thousand Jedi serving the Order at any given moment. With Republic's backing, you could use resources to survey the galaxy in search of children to be trained. Such a scheme had worked for us well during times of peace, hasn't it?"

The question was rhetorical. A ginger brow was furrowed somewhat as she glanced at Cyril, who was pretty much the prototype of Jedi dwelling time and place she just described.
"But what happens in times when Jedi are scarce? For instance, after most of them were killed when Order 66 was executed and the Republic was effectively dissolved? They could no longer use Republic's resources to search for Force sensitives around the galaxy. In such a setting, the Jedi become extinct very, very quickly."
She paused, only to flip a few stray locks from her face.
"In a strictly biological sense, Heavenshield is doing exactly what he needs to be doing for survival; having Force sensitive offspring he will eventually train to become Jedi. Hence, I think your criticism may be somewhat wrongly placed, if you have any interest in restoring the Jedi order to its former glory."

The Hapan sniffed, rubbing her snub nose to warm it.
"Ultimately, we will prevail only if our numbers multiply faster than that of our enemies. The Sith control the Core, where population density is the highest, which means probability of finding Force-sensitive individuals is greater. Also, they tend to fornicate with anything that walks." the ginger-maned woman concluded, her eyes never leaving Grayson's darkening form -

"And what are the two of us doing? Sitting in a cottage and beating the frell out of each other."

[member="Cyril Grayson"]

 

[Placeholder 04]

It was cold, though Cyril paid it little mind. He was used to the freezing temperatures Ession could fall to this time of year. However, it seemed Tionne could not. Before offering any form of response, the Jed Master strolled over to the fireplace, and lit the gas. It took a moment before the wood within caught fire; eventually becoming a controlled blaze. With it, the room was caste in a stark orange glow, and the heat would soon win out against the cold.

"It's true, we do need greater numbers. But these days force sensitives tend to come to us." He pointed out as he settled down back on the table, arms folded across his chest. "And while you make sense, no Jedi should be in a position of power and have heirs. I made that mistake, and Ession suffered for it," he frowned, "Not heirs. Didn't have any children. Wasn't married long enough for that."

Grayson snickered. There had been a time when he'd taken care of an infant. A little Echani baby orphaned after the battle of Ossus. He'd taken the child in, raised him as his own, but the war had pulled him away. Before the battle of Kashyyyk, he'd given the boy to a wanting couple back on Ession. He checked in on them from time to time, but the baby was no longer his.

Sometimes he missed the child.

"If I recall, you were the one who wanted to be beaten," Cyril teased as he poked the fire with a thin metal rod, "I'm content to sit here and commune with the force until I'm called upon once again. I fought in the war - fought too much," calloused fingers ran over his scalp, "When the Order needs me, the force will tell me so. Until then, I'll happily remain here, beating the frel out of you."

He cracked a thin smile.

"You're cold. Is the fire enough?"

[member="Tionne Thanewulf"]

 

[Zonia Kalranoos]

How come somebody so powerful, experienced and versed in battle become so inert? Thanewulf couldn't help but to wonder why he sat on this forsaken planet and waited for the Force to call upon him, instead of placing his blade at Alliance's very forefront. Was he that traumatized by the imminent loss of his wife? First he defended the Masters for indulging in romantic relationships, now he scolded himself for doing the same. Grayson was deeply conflicted, without even realizing it. The fire had warmed the room somewhat, but Tionne remained covered by the blanket, sinking further under it.

"Last night you were justfying well trained Jedi for choosing a mate, now you proclaim this a mistake. Seems I am not the only one who is making some progress." the redhead asserted kindly and flashed him a small, albeit supportive smile.

"I don't see how having true, honest emotions for someone can be seen as a mistake. You should never regret or apologize for loving wholeheartedly." she ressured Cyril whilst letting her smile widen. A few shivers ran down her spine, the couch still not quite in reach of warmth radiated by the fire. With every passing moment, the remaining pain dissipated, leaving nothing but blunt soreness. Her body was slowly but surely recovering from the injuries Grayson had inflicted.

"I haven't been honest about the reason of my arrival." the ginger-haired female finally admitted, then propped herself up on her elbows, gaze fixated on Grayson's form - "As much as I need your training and guidance, there is something else I need even more."
The Hapan then rose to her feet, the blanket sliding off to reveal the outfit she wore when they sparred in the morning. The color of her skin was almost back to normal where the bone was cracked, the subtle sculpture of her neck and torso now without blemish of battle. She stood in front of Grayson, a little more than a foot separating them, his eyes in level with Tionne's chest. Ginger hair reached all the way to her waist in waves of purest copper.

"We are losing the war, Cyril." she stated softly - "A seer had foreseen my own death, but only in a variant of the future that does not include you fighting beside me. In the reveries void of you, the Alliance is overrun by the Sith."
The Hapan then stepped sideways and walked to the hearth, the heat of the flames now warming the front of her body as she faced the fireplace.
"But I am not here to save myself. Nor was I sent by anyone." the redhead added, then closed her eyes - "I came here despite being both advised and instructed not to."

[member="Cyril Grayson"]

 

[Placeholder 04]

He did not take his eyes off of Tionne as she spoke. She acted as if his world view was changing; as if he had found some great revelation. In truth, he had already made up his mind on matters such as relations. Of course, that did not mean he needed to vocalize them. Not now anyway.

At the very least she was healing steadily. He studied her form for a moment as she crossed over to the fire. His efforts had succeeded somewhat; broken bones were mended and much of the bruising was removed. At the very least, he knew his capability to heal the wounds of others had not diminished. Were he ever to walk into battle again, that would be useful.

"You're saying a seer told you I would be a deciding factor in the alliance's fate?" He asked skeptically. The bit about her dying on her own...he could believe that. Such visions had been told to him before about others, and they had come true. Yet, his role in the alliance was undefined. They were thriving without his help already. What good could he do?

The Jedi Master pushed up to his feet.

"Why are you here then? Besides the training?" He asked quietly; lofting a brow as he pushed up to his feet. He turned to face the woman, arms folding over his chest. "I'm no help to the alliance. I haven't been for some time now, and you should rest."

[member="Tionne Thanewulf"]

 

[Zonia Kalranoos]

Tionne felt the Jedi Master draw near, but remained standing whilst still facing the fire. She stood firmly, legs apart at shoulder's width. Her palms were stretched outwards, almost placed above the flames. His reply was as expected, an accolade to defeatism and self-belittlement. For the galaxy, Cyril Grayson was the stuff of legends, for the Alliance an infallible instrument of the light. Very few other Jedi had so much experience in dealings with the Sith, war tactics and the like. His self-criticism slowly began to get on Tionne's nerves. Other had warned her how stubborn Grayson could be, especially when it came to his repeated involvement as an active member of any organization. He was disappointed with the Jedi at large, that much was clear. The only person he blamed more than others was himself, yet he still saved more lives than he was forced to sacrifice. Thanewulf would not allow for dispiritdness, not on her watch.

"You interpret the prophecy in the way it suits you, like you do with everything else." she replied, pursing her plump lips - "All I know is what I've been told. The future, she said, is in constant motion. Difficult to establish a causal connection."

Slate-coloured orbs opened then glanced sideways at the Jedi Master. His stance spoke volumes of how he felt about this particular conversation. Soon, he would feel even more peculiar.
"Thankfully, you still have your free will. Don't feel obliged by the ramblings of a seer."
Tionne then turned around and slowly began to make her way to the bedroom, leaving Cyril to his thoughts. Once she reached the doorway, the Jedi woman stopped, but did not turn to face him. Her head ever so lightly bobbed to the side, when she spoke what she thought would be the last words for the evening -

"You are the father of my children." the Hapan uttered meekly, then disappeared into the darkness of the bedroom, leaving the door opened behind her.

[member="Cyril Grayson"]

 

[Placeholder 04]

Wut.

Cyril had always regarded the prophecies of seers with a healthy amount of skepticism. While he knew they almost always bespoke of the truth, or some semblance of it, he was not a slave to them. He understood such musings could be misconstrued by whoever received such visions, and knew all too well the dangers of unquestioning belief. He would not be such a victim.

Yet, her final words confused him. The father of her children? What? It caught him so off-guard that he had nothing to say in response as she disappeared into the bedroom. This seer she had been seeing must be senile. They didn't pick up on those kind of things, did they? She spoke of commitments; of relationships and similar issues. How had he not guessed she would be hinting at something more?

Idiot.

"You need to explain this prophecy," he grumbled, shoving his hands I to his pockets as he followed her inside. They needed to have words before he could continue training her.

 

[Zonia Kalranoos]

***​

​

Tionne slid under the covers of Cyril's bed, then moved the blanket away so that Grayson could do the same. The room was becoming unpleasantly cold; with no heat source apart from the candles that naturally extinguished one by one, the temperature inside would soon equate itself with that of the forest surrounding them. Snow persistently fell from the sky,vouching a true onset of Ession's trademark winters. Blanket was pulled almost to Tionne's snub nose to keep her warm, grey eyes settling on Cyril's form as he prepared himself to join her amidst the sheets.

"Are you going to sleep here tonight?" she asked, not quite sure what was to follow. A part of her thought he was going to return to the couch once Grayson claimed what he wanted, and leave her to shiver under the blanked by herself. His dominant nature had surfaced, the one responsible for his rise among the Jedi, but also imminent downfall. He was a man in the truest sense of the word, with Thanewulf effectively evoking masculinity that threatened to drown in an ocean of self-pity. More than anything the redhead wanted to hug him tight once again, but didn't quite dare. He would now witness her timid side, the side noone ever saw before.

"You can...if you want to. The couch is uncomfortable and cold..."
What a bunch of lame excuses. The truth was - Tionne wanted him to hold her every night until it was time to leave Ession and rejoin the Alliance, preferably with Grayson in tow.
"There is no need for you to ever sleep out there alone...ever."

[member="Cyril Grayson"]

 

[Placeholder 04]

"Yes." he answered simply as he drew the blankets about himself. There was much to think about. He'd never been the bet at attaining any semblance of calm in situations like these, even after attaining the rank of master. Things were awkward, and then they weren't. Blue eyes shifted over to Tionne. Lips parted to speak, but no words came forth. He sighed.

The alliance did have need of him, of that Tionne was right. Though he did not have the importance she seemed to believe he did, another blade would help the war effort. He would never take the title of Marshal - he would never join the ranks of this militarized order again, but he could help. That was, of course, in the far future. Right now he needed to focus on other things.

Sleep.

Grumbling a string of curses under his breath, Cyril laced is arms around Thanewulf's form and pulled her close. The candles dimmed, and Ession's forests froze, but they would not.

"Combat training starts at nine tomorrow. Be ready," he grumbled as sleep overtook him.

[member="Tionne Thanewulf"]

 

[Zonia Kalranoos]

Grayson's mechanical arm snaked around her waist, drawing her near into his embrace. His body was unusually warm, radiating a peculiar kind of thermal energy. Perhaps it was her very presence that made Cyril's blood boil underneath his skin, heating her far better than any fireplace could. Even before she could utter another word or pose a question, the man laying beside her was already fast asleep. His breathing became deeper, ample chest dilating to draw in cold air that surrounded them. Tionne continued to stare into the mirror for a while, finding herself unable to sleep just yet.

In a way, Cyril was right. She didn't know much about him, apart from rumours and legends shrouding his name. Some praised him, while others said he was stubborn and overly proud, but all agreed there was no other Jedi who managed to survive so many encounters with One Sith. That very same man had his head snuggled between her shoulder and neck, with nose immersed in ginger locks. Tionne smiled to herself and sigh, letting her hand slide across his forearm, fingers gripping the upper side of his palm to tighten his embrace. Feeling of security pervaded her, making way for much needed rest. A few fleeting moments later, Thanewulf fell asleep too, their breathing falling into perfect sync.

The sun was already well above the horizon when its rays woke Tionne, as both of them overslept the time Grayson intended for training. Yet, the redhead did not complain nor took it upon herself to rush out of the bed. Instead, she turned to face him, her hand placed against the side of his face. A soft kiss was implanted on his lips, aiming to wake him up in the best way possible.
"Good morning." she greeted with a comely smile, her index finger caressing the tattoo adorning the side of his brow.

[member="Cyril Grayson"]

 

[Placeholder 04]

His sleep was dreamless. The Jedi was too exhausted - training had worn out his limbs. It had been some time since he'd committed to actually fighting an opponent without the use of his lightsaber. Doing so had drained him to the point of fatigue. The rest was needed and well wanted, and it was not until late in the day that Tionne's lips stirred him from his sleep.

Blue eyes opened slowly as he tried to make out her blurry face. A moment's time allowed his vision to clear, and memories of all that had happened flooded his mind. It was not all bad; none of it was truly. He drew in a deep breath and allowed himself to simply enjoy the moment, arms tightening around the woman's waist until he decided they had spent enough time doing nothing.

And yet, Cyril returned the kiss all the same.

"Get dressed. I'm going to be teaching you how to master lightsaber combat today. It will be little more than the first step, but you need to take it all the same," he mumbled groggily as he drew the himself out from the blankets. He went through the process of clothing himself; opting for the same tunic as before, and strolled toward the door.

"I do not teach Vapaad often. It's my greatest weapon against the Sith. Soon, it will be yours as well."

He stepped out into the snow.

[member="Tionne Thanewulf"]

 

[Zonia Kalranoos]

The way he treated her confused Tionne, his demeanour no different than the day before. In a half-formal tone of voice Grayson informed her of today's lesson and dragged himself out of bed before she could implant a second kiss onto those chapped lips. He felt distant again, reverting to his master role all too soon. Thanewulf knew not what to make of it; was it only temporary or permanent, she had no idea. Perhaps last night was nothing but a one-time episode, a proverbial slip never to be repeated. Cyril left her no other option than to fall back into the role of student and accept any kind of training he was willing to provide. Today her Soresu would be truly tested.

Once the Jedi master was out of the chalet, Tionne rose from bed and clad herself in her usual dark gray cargo pants and a black long sleeve shirt she brought along from Sullust, together with her custom-made spacer boots. Her hair was assembled into a tightly knit braid that dangled all the way to her mid-section. In her hand, The Light of the Core, the electrum-hilt wonder imbued with Solari crystals. The design of the saber was archaic, dating back to golden age of the Republic, when thousands of Jedi upheld law and order and Sith were nothing more than a folk-tale. The crystal itself was even more valuable, as Saccoria was now in the heart of the One Sith, with no Jedi being able to harvest the crystal. Surely, Grayson would appreciate such a fine exemplar of a Jedi weapon, one that can be wielded by those purely dedicated to the light side of the Force.

"In my time, the use of Vaapad was restricted to a few select Masters. Why do you think I am worthy of knowing it?" Thanewulf inquired as she joined Grayson on the snow infront of the cabin, the hilt of her saber laying idly in her hand - "Rumor is Vaapad can be a quick path to the Dark Side. Is this true?"

[member="Cyril Grayson"]

 

[Placeholder 04]

Cyril's eyes flickered down toward Tionne's weapon. Lips pursed curiously for a moment, though he held his tongue. He watched as she strode outside; a long lightsaber bound in leather drifting from his belt into his hands. The weapon was unconventional - it was designed for elegance rather than brute force. It would not match the strength of the modern Sith lightsaber. It was a wonder why Grayson carried such a seemingly useless weapon with him in this day and age.

"You haven't heard wrong. Vaapad can master you as much as you can master it," he quipped as he carved an area in the snow with the tip of his boot. It came out to be a long oval rather than the traditional dueling circle. The lightsaber in his hand made a crackling noise as it came to life; its gentle violet glow just barely visible over the sea of white.

"It will also win you every single battle you have with a Sith, if you use it correctly. Vaapad requires you to enjoy the battle. It allows you to use your opponent's darkness against them, while retaining your clarity." He cracked a thin smile. "It's a constant struggle to use correctly. I'm choosing to teach you because I would see you survive this war."

There was the slightest hint of concern in his words. Then it was gone.

"It's quite similar to Juyo, if you've ever delved into that form."

[member="Tionne Thanewulf"]

 

[Zonia Kalranoos]

Tionne slightly tilted her head at the sight of faint violet hue of Cyril's lightsaber; long time had passed since she last saw a weapon equipped with a Hurrikaine crystal. With a snap hiss, her own blade came to life, golden-orange hues reminding of light of Corusca, Coruscant's bright prime star. The Hapan assumed the traditional defensive Soresu pose, keeping the saber close to herself in a vertical position. Her knowledge of Form III was ultimate, both in theory and practice, her saberwork tuned for three specific purposes; close quarters, deflecting blaster bolts and survival. Thanewulf found it ironical Grayson was speaking of survival in context of Vaapad; her current form had served her well for that purpose.

"You need to be reminded often that I come from a different time, when ten thousand Jedi ran amok. Study of offensive techniques, especially Juyo, were neither mandatory nor encouraged. Soresu had served me well." retorted the Jedi woman and flexed her muscles, readying herself for an imminent attack.

"Funnily enough, I might be the most suitable candidate for instruction of Vaapad in this universe - " she proclaimed somewhat boastfully, but then opted to explain - "I've never felt the call of the Dark Side, even when I was surrounded by it. Never quite understood what drives one down that road. Perhaps nature, or simply nurture?"

She managed to turn yet another training session into a philosophical debate. Cyril would grow tired of her escapades sooner than later. Unless he found them charming; he would be the first.

"The scientist part of me wants to study the Sith, not just take them as granted. To understand deep motives. Not just eradicate them, but understand how they are born into the Dark side. Perchance even to find ways to prevent it, if its even possible."

Even before Cyril was able to react to her claims, Tionne waved her hand dismissively - "I think too much. Just ignore it."

[member="Cyril Grayson"]

 

[Placeholder 04]

"It's nurture. People aren't born with the desire to murder. Their surroundings and experiences dictate it. If no one instills morals in you, then how would you ever gain them?" Cyril retorted as he took note of the all too familiar stance. When he had begun training with the order, Soresu was his chosen form. Times had changed, and he'd needed to adapt to the current galactic playing field. First Niman, then Vaapad had become his primary choice.

"You've felt it Tionne, you were just raised to resist it. The modern Jedi isn't so tough," he continued as he circled the woman, "Don't allow yourself to be prideful. Vaapad is a dangerous beast. Even the greatest masters have fallen to its claws."

He paused for a moment, studying Tionne. She was curious, and more importantly, inexperienced when it came to the inner workings of the Sith. Cyril was a wealth of knowledge on such - one she had just tapped.

"You may or may not know that I was born into the Sith. I was the hand of the last Sith Emperor of the outer rim," blue eyes shifted to her weapon. Gold: fitting. "Four out of five Sith do not understand, and never will understand, the concept of redemption. Speaking as a man who spent his formative years among them, I'll tell you there is little to be learned from their kind."

He paused.

"You saw the scars for yourself." A reference to the night they had spent in one another's arms; something they would need to talk about later.

Just not now.

The violet blade hissed as it came down toward Tionne. Cyril's strikes were blindingly fast, and aimed to find a breaking point in her use of Soresu via a flurry of strikes. The Jedi Master cracked a thin smile. Their contest had begun.

[member="Tionne Thanewulf"]

 

[Zonia Kalranoos]

Unbeknownst to Grayson, Tionne was not raised to resist the Dark side. If anything, she was raised to be critical and skeptic towards anyone who derived general laws from his own experiences. Certainly, he had more right to talk about the Sith than anyone she ever met before, but that didn't constitute scientific approach to matter at hand. Tionne opted to dismiss the subject, rather than risk sounding dismissive towards Cyril's personal input. His experience with the Sith was heavily pervaded by emotions and as such could not be classified as objective. As a matter of fact, the two of them were polar opposites; the blue-eyed Jedi Master was as opinionated as Jedi would get, most of his viewpoints set in stone.

Thanewulf, on the other hand, was always in search of new information to update her beliefs, opinions in constant motion. It wasn't lack of character, on the contrary, but rather the way she was raised by her relativist parents. The Jedi order hardly managed to brainwash the Hapan woman, as she arrived to the Temple in her early teens, with two advanced degrees in tow. Perhaps this was one of the reasons why she never felt at home within the Order, not buying into their agenda one hundred and ten percent of the time.

"Not all scars can be seen." she replied criptically, then swung her blade sideways to block the flurry of strikes Grayson unleashed upon her. Tionne scooped up his momentum, falling onto the defensive by taking a step back, then engaged in a diagonal parry aimed to stop his attack at point blank. Defending against Vaapad was similar to defending against Ataru; the attacks were not as potent as that of Djem So. If one endured long enough, the practicioner of Form VII would grow weary and start making mistakes. Thanewulf didn't have a plethora of Force skills or lightsaber forms in her arsenal, but the ones she had were drilled to near-perfection rarely seen in a Knight.

[member="Cyril Grayson"]