Private Old-Fashioned Cloning Technique

[Arro Peradun]

Roon: Postscript
After the conclusion of From Now On.

There was still an air of uncertainty, but the edges had softened.

After the meeting, there were many following questions from those who had been able to show, both pertaining to the focus of the main discussion, and related matters given mention but not expanded upon at the time, as the Lord Commander had set these aside for later on. These were not questions Arristorr had, as he was still a neophyte of the Order, unfiled into any of the the schools of thought that made up the Knights... but he had a separate question of his own, only partly related to these. It could wait, he would wait for the right opportunity, but not beyond this day if it could be helped, for he could not stand by and do nothing. If there was one thing he had in spades (aside from nature's gifts to the Felacatian), it was patience, something that every soldier either fostered or floundered in boredom. For the more animalistic, such as he, it could be natural: a hunt required, in many cases, a measure of biding one's time, focused watching, careful stalking, and in some ways, this was similar to the build-up of an op. It was purposeful waiting, time whiled away in the observation of other knights, awaiting a sliver of time for his request.

When the remainder dispersed, or talked in low murmurs amongst themselves, he didn't immediately make a move, instead respecting the Miraluka's possible need for mental respite, being one of the few the many looked to ultimately for direction, but his gaze had been following the white-haired warrior this entire time. There might be the distinct feeling he was being watched, and he was: orange eyes to prehensile tail, Arro studied him. This stillness and patient waiting had scared the daylights out of many of the Felacatian's comrades, when he had gone beneath even their feline notice, and he had always taken amusement in it, but that wasn't the case, now. There was nothing funny about anything, as of late, yet... well over six feet and a quarter ton of broad, muscular humanoid shouldn't be that easy to hide in plain sight, but it was possible, to a certain extent, when being as stone. He garnered the occasional glance, sometimes a double-take, but by and large, wasn't paid much of any attention as he sat with barely even a twitch of his rearmost appendage. He was well capable of ignoring an itch.

Once Arro had determined that Voph had enough of a break, he moved almost fluidly from the partial curl of elbows on knees, to the upright, air-disturbing forward motion of a living brick in intentional, not-slow movement, causing a petite Knight close by to jump and release a mild yelp of surprise as he departed that position and made for his quarry; Arro glanced over his shoulder, with a look that said 'sorry', and a gesture that showed much the same, then returned his attention forward, waving down the man he intended to speak to.

"Lord Commander..." he started, filtering the felinoid roll from his speech, as he had learned to do over time, "...sir, got a moment?"

Kyyrk

Chaos NaNo: 540 words

 

[Kyyrk]

S T U D Y
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Voph had departed the gathering hall in favor of a balcony overlooking the waterfall below. He stood motionless against the railing, his blind gaze focused on a single point on the horizon. One that he did not stray from for some time. His obsidian robes fluttered in the breeze about him, and the light revealed the battle-torn plates of armor worn beneath it. As the clouds shifted overhead, the robes about Voph's torso seemed to shimmer and gleam in the light. Golden threads wove in intricate vines painting a tapestry across the man's back, but only when the sunlight struck it at the proper angles.

He was aware that he was being watched, however. Many of the Knights that had not yet dispersed shot him furtive glances. He had made it clear that if any had questions, they were welcome to speak with him in private. But one in particular stood out from the rest. A Felacatian, judging by the stance and intent stare. Voph had long since admired the unparalleled stalking capabilities of the Felacatians. Even if it was obvious as anything, when you knew what to look for. Voph did not turn as the large being stepped up and approached him.

The younger being asked if he had a moment. Voph sighed quietly. "For all my years, and all my time, I have either too much, or too little. Whichever is the less convenient. And I both welcome and dread the day when I have more time than I know what to do with. But for now, I would say that I do indeed have time." Voph lifted a hand to idly indicate a spot at the railing next to him. "I am sure that you and the other squires still have many questions. And rest assured I intend to answer them to the best of my ability. Though I may not know all of them myself off hand..."

Arro Peradun

Chaos NaNo: 321 Words

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[Arro Peradun]

The weary pace of the Lord Commander's words almost made the bulky felinoid regret the decision to bother the man, but the 'many questions' he spoke of were not the ones Arro was here to ask, so the regret waned, though not entirely. There was much to be said for respect, and he tried his best to give it. Sometimes, inevitably, miscalculations happened. Sometimes, it was hard to get a read on people. Often, being a leader meant more sacrifice than those that followed, though not always in the same ways.

"Sir," he began, stepping up to the railing, bare, faintly furred hands gently grasping the cool metal, "I'm not here to rehash the same things that my peers no doubt have a lot of concern over," orange eyes took in the lands this vantage point overlooked, a subcurrent of thought considering them, and the beauty of the waterfall, the distant sounds of nature's denizens not entirely drowned out by the backdrop of obsidian conversation, "I'm afraid I haven't been with the order long enough to form much of an opinion."

What was done by this purported entity was of grave concern, yes, there was no denying it, but he had no direction to ask for, having not experienced personal loss of attachments or structure. That wasn't to say he didn't feel for them, didn't resolutely know that he wanted to do everything within his power, on their behalf.

"What I want to ask you, Sir," he began broaching the subject, "what I mean to ask of you, is if you would be willing to see to my training." Arro's head had turned to look on Voph in the asking, not expecting an immediate answer, but before one could be given, the Felacatian spoke up again, "I could have asked another, Sir, but I believe you to be the best fit for my development in the Order, considering my background and existing skillset."

Blunt? Yes. But there was no point in beating around the bush. If he hadn't been endowed with this power, he might have enlisted with the Confederate army, if he had left Felacat at all. He didn't have any qualms about being typecast. He chose this.

Chaos NaNo: 369 words

Kyyrk

 

[Kyyrk]

T R A I N ?
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Voph did not turn to look at the man. He never did. Never had the need. He drew a deep breath, then sighed. "Why?" The Miraluka was no stranger to physicality himself. Standing an abnormal seven feet tall, the man certainly had the build to rival many warrior species. Paired with his physical augmentation, he was certainly a force to be reckoned with, even before one took into account his skill with a blade or his skill with the Force. But that in and of itself did little to explain why the feline approached him.

Voph suspected he knew the reason why, but the question was still a test all the same. The younger man had been accepted into the Knights Obsidian, so Voph knew his intention was good. But he was still curious as to the nature of the man's request. Why him? "Why chose me as the conduit through which all your teaching flows? Do you seek a lofty position as the student of the headmaster? Or do you seek the boundless knowledge that lays at my fingertips? Or perhaps you approach me on a dare?"

Voph's smirk suggested the last question was posed in jest. "Very few can stomach the knowledge I have to impart. It is not for the weak or the impressionable. Even the strongest willed must ask themselves if my knowledge is worth pursuing. But it seems that you have already considered this to an extent. Take your time. Answer in your own words. You may think of this as a test, if it would help you..."

Arro Peradun

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[Arro Peradun]

He looked back out over the land, taking with him the reciprocal expression of humour understood, the milder bend of his lips fading as he turned to thought, to introspection. Why? It was a fair response. Even though in jest, there were those whose reasons were as such, even if he were not one of them. Did this reality allow for the prioritisation of self, for ambivalence? If his understanding of the past few hours and preceding days was correct, fear was a luxury. The Order might be some form of what they were, once again, but the future couldn't be so bright, could stand to be nothing, if the investment of them all, of every fibre, wasn't given. This he believed.

"For my home," he began, "what this nation did for my people, I seek to do in turn," he had been there with Felacat's liberation, and it was this that ultimately turned his gaze to beyond the skies of his world; he pushed off the railing, "for her people," he turned to face away from the land, resetting with his behind against it, tail snaking up and over the rail, idly swaying, "and for them." This last statement came, his gaze turned backward, into the facility, the bulk of the others of their Order within, his arms crossed over his chest, "Their protection requires that I seek to do what I can, what I must."

It ultimately wasn't for him that he sought this out.

"These aren't the words of an idealist, sir," the edge of his words was frank, "but a soldier."

He knew no other way. His head lolled to the side, looking upon the other man with a twinge of levity.

"And for what it's worth, my stomach isn't a concern, but you might wish to ask those on the receiving end of my Beast's attentions about theirs."

A half a cheshire grin showed, that ghosted away when he looked ahead of himself again.

"Unless necromancy isn't your thing, Sir."

Chaos NaNo: 335 words

Kyyrk

 

[Kyyrk]

D I S C U S S
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Voph snorted quietly. "Not the most elegant of solutions, but anything said against it would be hypocrisy." He did not elaborate upon his answer further, but he did not care if it made sense to the man. To many Voph was simply a man who had risen from obscurity. Only a precious few knew the truth. The truth of his resurrection a mere decade ago. But that was neither here nor there. Voph drew a deep breath, and sighed. "That said, you need not explain your language to me."

Voph finally turned to look at the young man beside him. "I have lived through enough wars to know the mettle of a soldier. To know how one thinks and feels. You do not display the arrogance of one that fights for his own gain. One who crafts a web to cast himself in a better light." Voph also turned to lean his back against the railing. "To use your skills for the protection of others is a trait few possess. You do not fight because of some lofty goal, but because you feel it is right."

Voph fell silent for a moment longer. "Though savagery and brutality may be our allies, we are still protectors at heart. If your duty to your people is what drives you to greater heights, I shall help in any way I can. I dare say you may even one day rival my prowess in the realms of war."

Arro Peradun

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[Arro Peradun]

He himself was silent for a time, head half-bowed, attention given to the elder man's response, a confirmation of what drove him, and resonance with a kindred soul. Silence persisted for moments more when words ceased, until a long breath eased out of the polymorphic feline, his head raising to level. Sober judgement, this time. He couldn't put a finger on what exactly he had been thinking, back on Geonosis, back then, but he came out of the ensuing time knowing just a little more about himself, with more steel in his convictions.

"Thank you," when he finally spoke, "I will strrrive for it," to be another bastion of the nation; his tail scratched in seeming futility at the nape of his neck, as he visibly relaxed, and cleared his throat, "but what now, sir?"

He was fairly eager, to be certain, but ever patient, and the answer to such a question could be any number of things. His tail dropped back over the railing, his gaze raising to the sky above. Every world, the stars were arranged differently, influencing many different beliefs. It was hard to say if any of the stars in any place were the same as the points of light that blanketed the skies of his birthplace.

Kyyrk