Succession of Ka'ra [Mandalorians]

[Ashin Varanin]

Field Marshal Rekali, possessed of no real desire to be Mand'alor, stayed entirely out of it. He watched, expression inscrutable behind his beskar mask, his troan veman -- true face.

 

[Countess Calum Teramo]

In all this she keep her eye upon the fight had one had caught her eye. It was the only one she knew personal with a little be of a dinning experince that urn south. Now as she let herself just enjoy the battle taking place. One couldn't be that one to make anything more then to just look at what more could be done but to enjoy the fight for the time being. All in all she wanted to best one to come out of top. Just who may that be.

[member="Ember Rekali"]

 

[Nolan Detta]

Nolan must have stepped on the vod's chest instead of the ground like he was going for and to his side as Vilaz rolled, and scrambled to capture control. It seemed as though Vilaz was attempting an ankle lock, while shoving Nolan's hands away from their grasp points. Vilaz was leaning back, attempting to put a vice on his ankle to get him to tap out, but Nolan wasn't having it.

While Vilaz had his arms crossed and clasped over Nolan's left foot, he brought right knee back into his chest, and slammed his boot right towards the kneecap of his opponent. The strength added from his Force Rage could shatter the bone in his opponents knee no problem.

After his struck out for the leg of Vilaz, he activated his Repulsor pack and lifted himself with the same arc of the rednecks back, releasing the pressure on his ankle. He He then bent at the knee of his left leg, then at that moment, he brought his right boot down on the face of the redneck. If and when his foot was released, he would escape a few feet away to land and start again from a standing position.




[member="Vilaz Munin"]

 

[Ordo]

He changed his armor and kept his helmet on tight. No clan markings, no symbols to mark his exploits. Just plain grey arnor as he sat in the background. He sat in a heavy chair and tried not to speak. He had no reason to be alive, and most days no desire but he was wanted by his family, that was enough. They all more likely than not would want his head but when you lived in a culture where you were known by your armor, you could hide a bit. There were some that would have a chance to sense him but he had changed enough to think they may not.

Anyway, back of the class and hoping the next Mandalore would bring the vode forward and out of the shadow.

Spoiler

[member="Mia Monroe"] [member="Ember Rekali"]

 

[Siobhan Kerrigan]

Siobhan Kerrigan, who likewise had no desire to become Mand'alor and in any case should probably be ingeligible since she was still in many ways a foreigner, stood aside and kept watching the contest. Likewise she kept up her quest to abuse her lungs by smoking.

 

[Olivia Dem'adas]

Olivia's arm lowered, and not of her own volition.

<A frelling force user. I should have known.> Olivia thought to herself as she mentally reviewed the arsenal at her disposal. Her Beskad saber of course. Then there was the pistol at her hip. She had brought a few grenades, ret'lini... One cryoban grenade, one shock grenade, one flash-bang grenade, and a forcebreaker grenade. It was not a bad assortment of weapons, per say. But it sure as feth wasn't the arsenal she'd have asked for if she'd had known she'd be fighting a handwaver today.

Olivia's other hand was reaching for the slugthrower pistol at her waist when the tall, cybernetic Mando'ad stepped up and asked his question. Whoever the young buck thought he was, he sure as feth wasn't Mand'alor yet. If he wanted at the flat cow who'd parked her arse on the throne, he'd have to wait in line. Olivia was here first and sure as hazmana would not be letting some overinflated pup push her to the sidelines.

He did, however, happen to ask a question that she too wanted an answer to.

Her arm did not raise again, but neither did it return the saber to its sheath. Her other hand hovered near her belt, ready to draw whatever weapon she'd need to combat the bag of tricks that was an adept force user. Olivia had no way of knowing how powerful of a force user she was staring down, but she would prepare herself to fight a master if she had to.

As for the boy to her left, Olivia had only one response to him interrupting her. “Ask what you want boy, but I saw her first.” She said as she nodded towards his glaive. “And I'll be the one to bloody that pretty little nose of hers.”


[member="Mia Monroe"], [member="Anija Ordo"], [member="Azrael"], [member="Siobhan Kerrigan"], [member="Evi Sohl"],

 

[Lina Ovmar]

Mia rose as Anija approached, ignoring both [member="Azrael"] and [member="Olivia Dem'adas"] for a moment. She smiled slightly her hands moving beneath the saber that her niece offered her. Lifting it carefully, she bowed her head "Vor entye, vod'ika." she said softly, before stepping back from her and testing the eight of the blade in her hands. After a moment she lowered it to her side and settled her gaze upon her two challengers.

"Who am I?" She repeated Azrael's question her eyes searching his face for a moment. "I am Mand'alor the Liberator. I am Mia Monroe."

So much for staying in the shadows.

[member="Anija Ordo"]

 

[Olivia Dem'adas]

Olivia Dem'adas had not known Mia Monroe personally, but she had known enough about the woman to know what she looked like without a suit of armor. And this woman, whomever the hazmana she was, was not Mia Monroe. That she had the gall to claim as much would have been impressive had it not been so offensive. And that she would make such a claim after disgracing the armor of Mand'alor Skirata and defiling the throne of the Mand'alor with her flat arse...

"Bullshit." Olivia said flatly after a moment of stunned silence. Raising her blade to the woman once again, Olivia continued. "You'll speak the truth in these halls or I'll cut the tongue from your lying mouth."



[member="Mia Monroe"], [member="Azrael"]

 

[Lina Ovmar]

If there was any concern about Olivia bringing her blade up again, it didn't reflect in Mia's face, nor did she move to push it back down again. She settled her grey eyes upon Olivia's face.

"I died at the hands of Darth Meirin, two people in this room bore witness to that death. Many of you were on hand to send my body off too. So I understand your inability to see beyond that." Her expression hardened. "We are not, however, as a people, so narrow minded to believe that this impossible. This body is a clone of a Jane Doe. Mind and spirit, I am most definitely who I say I am."

She ran her eyes across those who were present, those who were watching. "There are...a handful of people here who can verify I am who I say I am."

[member="Olivia Dem'adas"] [member="Azrael"]

 

[Olivia Dem'adas]

A clone. Why were people always cloning Mandalorians?

"I don't care who you're a clone of. You'll keep that narrow little *** of yours out of that throne." Olivia said with a tinge of anger in her voice and her saber pointed at the woman's chest once more. "I want the name of the person responsible for the cloning, and I want to know what the **** makes you think we'd believe that you're Mia Monroe reborn?" Narrow minded or gullible, Olivia Dem'adas was not about to believe some outlandish story about cloned bodies and possessing spirits from the first loony tart to try and take the throne. The woman would prove to Olivia that she was the Mand'alor Reborn, or she would be executed by Olivia for impersonating the Mand'alor.

[member="Mia Monroe"], [member="Azrael"],

 

[Satine Detta]

Satine new to all things mandalorian except for one walked into this great hall it had the feel of something ancient and primal. It had the smell of iron, and sweat. It may have been cold at one time but the heat of words, and battle had changed it. It breathed now counting the moments as it watched from high walls down on the people who claimed it as their own.

Slowly she slipped between the armor clad men and women, she a lithe figure clad in black from head to foot. The light whip wound and placed at her hip, the vibro blade stuck in her boot, zenji needles placed within her hair, her trusty shuriken up her sleeves, she looked harmless enough. She doubted any here would think twice of her presence.

She however had a thirst for this knowledge. On Emberlene the men fought but it was not for leadership no that was a place they were no longer welcome. Their history of relationships with Imperials set on leveling Emberlene to the very soil had played against them.

She pushed her hood back to reveal her face so that she could see, and anyone wishing could see her.

These were her father's brothers and sisters. Warriors equal in might and strength, or so she had been told. She had come looking for her father's people out of curiosity, out of a need to know more of herself. One cannot be whole when a half lies hidden in the dark. The light was starting to brighten her darkness.

A woman was speaking excellent! Satine smiled as she listened. There were other voices in this hall they echoed from the ceiling to the floor. Others fight for a place in history through the grunts of effort. Then there were those that struck metal on metal seeking satisfaction of an old instinct to be at the top.

Satine knew this feeling, she was Leader in Clan D'ulin. But there was no single leader on Emberlene no there was Eleven Council and those seats came with a great price.

These were her father's people a people of battle, honor, and code to live by. She had a code a simple one, do what must be done to survive. A paraphrase of one whispered long ago, but still just as valid as today.

Today she would learn, today she would watch this history in the making

Spoiler

[member="Nolan Detta"]

 

[Rianna Organa]

Rianna came behind him standing with her face half hidden by the hood of her robes. The black of the robe faded easily into the shadows as she stood behind Jaspers chair. They had argued over whether to come or not, she had not won this one. If anyone here took any notice of them she was ready to defend, ready to mind trick them away.

This is not the Ordo you're looking for She was vigilant as any gothic gargoyle standing an eternity on the edge waiting to pounce.

This was however a moment in mandalorian history, the choosing of the next Mand'alor. Who would come out on top, as she pondered this though a voice was heard announcing herself to those around them.

Mia? How as that possible? By the same way the Ordo now sat here among them, all things were possible.

Spoiler

[member="Ordo"] [member="Anija Ordo"] [member="Arrbi Betna"] [member="Evi Sohl"] @Ember Rakali [member="Mia Monroe"]

 

[Azrael]

There were some very apparent misgivings about the current situation of the hall. Consequences of ignoring the status that could mark gravely in future endeavors - and it wasn't doing any favors for the half-blood. The Mandalorian people were nomadic by nature, independent to a fault, and prone to violence at the drop of a buy'ce. However, there was no greater spark to the flame of their collective temper than the idea that someone was messing with their culture, or their time-honored and long held traditions. Bringing dishonor to any of the Resonln'are was something that all the Mando'ade far and wide would rally against. They had all at one time or another pledged their life, their loyalty, and their spirit to the Manda, and the six tenants. Someone had the audacity to throw a proverbial wrench into those gears to grind away -- retribution would come swift, and come brutally to their front door. Azrael was no exception, as the glaive stayed precariously poised in accusatory threat while the woman who now stood from the throne before him.

The Field Marshal however had to draw his gaze away, turning the crimson visor towards the blonde at his side who for all her bravado was certainly not doing herself any favors by insinuating in words plainly lanced out that she was the first to have crack at the woman who would have gall enough to grace her presence on a throne that had been fashioned for their sole ruler. A creasing of his brows formed beneath his helmet, as a memory recalled to earlier days on the scrap yards of Ord Mantell. Boy..a word he'd become so inherently sick of in those years while he toiled away for a paltry some of credits. His name was so rarely used on that planet, sometimes he even forgot he had one. Years of that treatment had worn on the salvager, and it wasn't until either Lahswee had used his name, or more prominently the Manda had seen fit to lead him off the world under the care of Ordo and Kila that the word 'boy' had never again been used in reference to him. He was both brother and son to the Mandalorians, and it was a echoing of hatred that burned through his veins. Action was eminent, and he could feel the grip of his crushgaunt tighten against the E'tad Kal. Thankfully both were made of Mandalorian Iron, or else he might have bent the weapon of any other alloy. The next words gracing the mysterious stranger's lips though heralded his attention with a snap of focus.

Shock etched his hidden features, and his arm slacked for a moment while confusion washed over the Field Marshal like waves upon an ocean, crashing upon his memory to try and piece together how this event could be. Azrael hadn't been in the path of the resurrected before, and he wasn't even aware that the possibility existed. He'd known about clones assuredly, but not in the light that they were used to bring back the dead and gone. His stunned silence giving pause between Monroe and Olivia as their discourse flew like verbal darts, though he had to say that Monroe was remaining far more calm. Quietly the half-blood attempted to process the information from the events he had witnessed first hand. Images of Coruscant flew through his mind, as the death wails of the vode echoed in his buy'ce when Monroe perished at the hands of the Dar'jettii. His own attempt to avenge her thrown off-track by the doom of a protectorate vessel made a nose dive for their location. He'd brought her body to Mand'alor after that for a proper memorial, one in which he'd not soon forget. It was a lot to take in, but one saving grace on Monroe's part was that Anija had come without hesitation and brought up a weapon of her own. He didn't know Anija personally as much as others, but that kind of loyalty was reserved for family - and if Mia was seated on the throne, and given a blade so freely - Azrael had no intention to question the validity as Olivia did.

The next sound between the three gathered impacted against the Great Hall. A strike from the aft of the E'tad Kal slammed upon the tiling below his boots, creating waves of resonating sound that tore out and thundered back from the lofty ceiling rafters, beckoning attention from all within the walls of the ceremonial chamber. Reverberations of metal tainted the sound with a ring to echo back as Azrael commanded attention in a single act. He had heard enough, and he was not going to be standing by while this escalated further. He'd take his time to speak with force if necessary.

"Silence!" His voice amplified to booming levels from the speakers of his buy'ce, drawing his voice into a mighty swathe of sound. A moment's pause was given in obedience to his own words, attempting to not only hush the tones of Mia and Olivia, but the vode en masse gathered within the hall itself. His visor turned once more towards Mia and he stood watching her for a longer while, studying her features. He'd not forget this face. "I watched Mia Monroe fall in honorable combat at the hands of the Dar'Jettii, and I returned with her body to deliver her to the arms of the Manda. While I do not see the reflection of her in your face, the actions of others and your words resonate truth." He stated plainly, giving credence to her legitimate claim. Despite not having all the facts and figures worked out, it was harder to stay in disbelief than it was to have faith in his vode. His speech did not end though. "However, while the Liberator was the first A'lor I ever knew, you gave up your claim to the title." His bionic arm rose drawing a metallic digit towards her. "Entrusting ner'vod Verz Horak to take up the reigns of our people. You are no longer Mand'alor - and though you be the Liberator reborn, you have not proven yourself worthy to reclaim that which you have given away vod. It is a balm however, to this warrior's heart to see that you live again sister. Welcome home." He'd not insult the woman that he saw as a sister and somewhat of a mother figure if he was to be completely honest. His attention shifted though momentarily to that of Olivia.

"And you." His voice dropped an octave no longer amplified by the buy'ce, but clear as a bell in tone and volume to the blonde. "If you're so concerned about who sits on that throne, open your eyes. She no longer touches it. Your quarrel is over - while you investigate further to put your mind at ease with facts and figures." His form turned, and his arm dropped, while he took a measured step closer. "You are family, ner'vod - a daughter of the Manda. Consider your tongue a gift of mercy at the moment, but if you use it to call me boy again, expect to lose that mercy." Azrael was not playing around, and he'd just as soon make good on his promise than he'd gut a Sith. For a moment, his crimson visor held the gaze until he once again relented and drew his attention towards Mia. "You have challenged the title of Mand'alor again, and you will prove it against me, so come my Liberator, and test your metal against the heir of the Architect."


[member="Olivia Dem'adas"] | [member="Mia Monroe"] | [member="Devorah Khaladan"] | [member="Ordo"]

 

[Muad Dib]

The battle between Munin and Detta continued while Azrael, Olivia, and Mia formed a triad of arguments. Then Azrael proclaimed Mia as a reborn Mand'alor, but one needing to prove still worthy. Glancing around the vode he felt several pools of force energy. Narrowed eyes moved around until he looked at his brother.

"Lek, you will be uncle Kal soon ner vod." Leaning over slightly he kissed the top of Chloe's head as he held her closer while still favoring his injured shoulder.

[member="Chloe Kandossii"] [member="Kal Kandossii"]

 

[Lina Ovmar]

Mia raised an eyebrow at Azrael's command and demand for silence. She held her tongue throughout his monologue and for a moment after he challenged her she remained silent. Choosing her words carefully so as not to offend, still very aware of the saber pointed at her chest. "Miss Dem'adas' quarrell is far from over, and you have yet to complete your own test." She nodded towards Vilaz and Nolan. "The agreement was that the two victors fight, was it not? Win that fight, and I will take your test." She adjusted her one handed grip on the beskad at her side, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

"In the meantime..." she trailed off, moving in a blur to bring her saber upwards and out to sweep Olivia's to onside, she moved forwards, closing the gap rapidly and slamming her right shoulder into Olivia's chest, force giving her speed and strength as she aimed to send the woman staggering back down the stairs so she could follow.

"Lesson's need to be taught."

[member="Olivia Dem'adas"] [member="Azrael"]

 

[Vilaz Munin]

On the ground was where Vilaz wanted to be, for it gave him an advantage over his opponents. One good reason why was because he would utilize a form of martial arts known as Judo. That form he would utilize to break his enemy's bones or to put them in a choke hold and it is so effective because once Vilaz had his opponent in a joint lock or a choke hold then there was almost nothing that he or she could do, not at all. And in this scenario Nolan's left ankle was in an ankle lock which would soon cause him to yield from the duel unless he wanted to continue fighting with one foot which would be easier for the Redneck to dominate.

Pain would soon come to Nolan as the Rally Master would begin to bend his left ankle forward and beyond the limit of how far it could bend and that pain would cause the Detta to think of his next move. Now, the Redneck would know what would have happened if he let the right leg go free and there were multiple factors of what could happen. Kicks to his face, planting his foot on his chest and push out, and so on and so forth. While his right arm was being occupied to hold his opponent's ankle his left hand was free and was ready for anything of what the right leg of Nolan would do. As Nolan made his move Vilaz's left arm reacted but wouldn't do anything due to what Nolan just did. A kick to his left knee with a force that could barely do any damage. The combatants were on the ground and both legs of the Warrior were being bent and having their knees as a peak of a mountain, and a kick to the knee while you're on the ground wasn't very effective. The Redneck's legs had a stable plant on the ground and both knees were being protected by the beskar of his armor. Now, if Nolan was above him and kicked him in the knee or Vilaz was on top and Nolan did the same thing then it would have been more effective because in this case Vilaz's knee was looking at the ceiling rather then Nolan.

Then what happened next was that Nolan began to arch his back in a certain arc trying to release some pressure of his trapped ankle, but unfortunately for him that didn't work nor did it do anything except for arching his back. As for his left leg trying to bend it wouldn't work due to his leg almost being straight and in order to bend the whole leg he would need to control every inch of his leg, and not all of it was under his control as his ankle was being trapped. His left arm was, again, ready for Nolan's right leg if it had any intention of attacking with it. From his helmet he could see the right leg retracting back in meaning that the Detta had something planned for it, and as predicted he did. His left arm reacted as Nolan moved his leg and he deflected it as the Rally Master redirected it with his left arm since the forearm connected with the calf and moved it to Vilaz's left.

Everyone could hear the shout of Azrael, demanding silence. But Vilaz wasn't focusing on that or anything else besides his fight. Any distraction that would take away his attention could benefit Nolan and, perhaps, Vilaz would be the one losing the duel. He continued on the ankle and kept on bending it and sooner or later Nolan would have to tap out if he didn't want a broken ankle which would be Vilaz's pleasure to do so anyways. He could kick with his free leg all he wanted, but pressure would exerted on the ankle and the Redneck's free arm would intervene with the leg that would try to sabotage his intent on making Nolan yield through the ankle lock.

[member="Nolan Detta"]

 

[Nolan Detta]

As Nolan kicked at the redneck, it must not have crossed Nolan's mind that Vilaz had absolute control over the entire cituation as he struck boot to kneecap, apparently beskar stops all physical damage too, hmm. His next boot stomp was batted aside like the arm of Vilaz was somehow stronger than a LEG empowered with the Force. Nolan was off the ground by way of repulsorpack, floating above Vilaz's ankle lock, and was in control over his whole leg, even though he only needed control over his knee to bend his leg.

Nolan brought his right leg back, as far as it could go, and with, again, the added strength of the Force, threw his foot forwards at the rednecks visor. With full intent on knocking his opponent out, Nolan swung as hard as he could to bring the kick up to full power. He didn't feel the pain of the ankle lock, it was an ineffective tactic against Nolan, his only pain was near his backside and it smelt like redneck.

Nolan had an ace up his sleeve that he was going to save for as long as possible, it wasn't needed quite yet. He felt the crowd growing with excitement as the assortment of conflicts arose about the great hall. Az and Ani were arguing about some woman who sat in the sacred chair, the other redneck got smashed in the face by Ani and taunted by the giant vod and Arbbi. And the Kandosii family was involved with something about their family becoming more or something, Nolan really hadn't listened to the whole conversation. His mind was a little preoccupied with a Judo wielding Redneck.

He did, however, spot the most beautiful woman in the room, she had caught his eye no doubt. He would have to go say hi after he won the fight.


[member="Vilaz Munin"] [member="Mia Monroe"] [member="Atin Kandossii"] [member="Azrael"] [member="Rianna be Ar'klim"] [member="Olivia Dem'adas"] [[member="Satine D'ulin"]] [member="Ordo"] [member="Siobhan Kerrigan"] [member="Kal Kandossii"] [member="Chloe Kandossii"] [member="Anija Ordo"] [member="Arrbi Betna"] @And So On...

 

[Olivia Dem'adas]

Before she knew it, her saber had been forced to the side and the woman's shoulder was slammed against her sternum. The air was forced from her lungs and she could have sworn her heart skipped a beat. <Feth, she's fast!> Olivia thought to herself as her feet raced to keep herself upright as she was thrown backwards down the stairs. Her back peddle turned into a slide as she came to the bottom of the stairs, forward momentum still forcing her back. She was leaning her body forward as best she could to keep herself from falling to her back as her feet slid across the floor. All in all, she had been shoved a good 6 meters before her boots finally skidded to a halt.

Her left hand had drawn her pistol by the time her body had made it down the stairs. By the time she had come to a stop, her finger had squeezed against the trigger of the slugthrower pistol and loosed a round at the would-be Mand'alor. The drawing of the pistol had been more reflexive than anything. As a soldier and a duelist, getting caught off-guard tended to cause your body to act before your mind could truly catch up with the situation. The brain in question managed to catch up to her body just in time though, as she managed to shift her aim just enough before the pull of the trigger for the bullet's path to take it towards her outer thigh and away from any vital organs or arteries.

Liberator or imposter, the woman was a Vod out of armor and didn't deserve to die without her true face on. Especially not for an offense that only warranted a few lashings.

As her feet found purchase, so too did her tung. Her body assumed a duelist's stance as she quickly shifted herself so her saber arm was towards her opponent, and not the gun arm. Force abilities or not, the pistol was overkill in this situation and Olivia almost wished she hadn't drawn it.

“Save the lessons for the Vod'ika.” Olivia said as she watched the woman's movements and prepared to counter her next attack. “You wanna call yourself Mand'alor, you're gonna have to teach me to kneel.”



[member="Mia Monroe"], [member="Azrael"], [member="Anija Ordo"],

 

[Vilaz Munin]

Nothing effective could be done while he was on the ground and Nolan in the air with the repulsor pack. Nothing at all. What Vilaz did need to do was get on his feet and put a distance between his opponent. Plus, Nolan was up in the air making the ankle lock useless and ineffective. He would be better once he had both feet on the ground which would give him more options than the very few he has, at the moment. All Vilaz could think of Nolan was that he was a coward, for Vilaz had stripped down all of his equipment that were not melee weapons while the Detta didn't.

"Ya 'fraid to get your ass beaten by me, eh?" The Redneck said taunting Nolan through his words. He then had let go of the ankle and barrel rolled to his right so he could get up at ease and put a distance between himself and his opponent. Not only that but when someone is over you there's the likelihood of him or her stomping on you with their foot, and since Nolan was in the air his only option of attack was stomp on him unless he had another weapon on him them he could have more options of attacking Vilaz making the Warrior have not that many options nor an option of staying put and defend against the attacks. Plus, the opponent didn't brought down his leg once it was retracted in a suitable degree angle instead he brought up his leg as far as it could go giving some time for Vilaz to dodge the attack. While added strength from the force empowered his natural physical strength it didn't affect the velocity of how fast the leg would be from attacking the Rally Master.

After barrel rolling and putting a decent amount of distance between the combatants the Rally Master quickly got up on his feet and looked at his opponent and took quick glances of his surroundings. He was looking for the beskad that Nolan was using earlier during the duel which seemed the best weapon available against a flying opponent that had nothing for a weapon except his body and mind. His blue eyes had found the weapon that he was looking for, but it was on the opposite side of him making Nolan on between him and the object that he needed. His eyes did not gave away what he needed for his helmet acted as a veil covering and hiding his and face with an emotionless face. He then would begin to move towards his left and if he was to reach the beskad then he would complete a semi circle around Nolan. And if Nolan was to attack or do something on the offense then a counter, a block, something defensive would be made against such attack.

[member="Nolan Detta"]

 

[Satine Detta]

Satine was drawn to the fight her blue gray eyes looked out to watch, she would know this form anywhere. She had seen him move many times that was [member="Nolan Detta"]. She smiled as she watched it was good to watch a good fight where one fought with all their strength never giving up until the end was indisputable. She crossed her arms in front of her as she watched.

Now the fight between the women also drew her eye, since she was from a world of warriors of all female warriors she was interested in knowing the different fighting styles, and did the women fight more aggressively than the men? Oh this was a treat to be able to watch, it was hard just keeping her gaze in one place.

She wished she could record and review this all later.