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Private Talk Later | Ryv

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R E N E G A D E
Tag: Ryv Ryv



The ship rocked slightly as it entered hyperspace, and Auteme took that as her cue to go and talk to Ryv. She took a deep breath, pushing away the anxiousness of the coming conversation. The padawan stood and walked quietly out of her quarters as to not disturb the others. As soon as she arrived at Ryv's door, though, the rest of that nervous feeling flooded in.

It'd been nearly a month since they'd talked. Like, really talked. She'd texted him a few times, and they met the other day to talk about her getting a job at the Senate as a scribe. But aside from that? She felt like she hadn't seen him in forever. The presence on the other side of the door seemed stressed, suppressed, unhappy. She'd heard of all the good work they'd done fighting the Sith, but she felt the pain that still lingered and the strain on the bonds here.

The worst part was how little of Ryv she could still sense -- at least, the part that she knew best. She'd seen him happy. That was all she wanted for him. Yes, he was out there being a hero, fighting against evil and whatnot, but it was tearing him apart and Auteme didn't know how much longer she could watch.

Deep breath. They just needed to talk. She could make him feel better.

Auteme was sure that he'd sensed her already, considering how long she'd lingered outside. She opened the door and stepped inside his quarters. "Hey-" The door automatically shut behind her, and she jumped slightly. Any confidence she might've had had long evaporated. She looked to Ryv and tapped her index fingers together nervously. "So... um..."

 
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Ryv

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// Sword of the Jedi //
//
The Renegade // Impromptu Training Room and Bunk // Primary Cargo Hold //
// Auteme Auteme //


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A series of short grunts and shallow thuds sounded from within the Renegade's primary cargo hold, not much different from the trip to Arkania. Still thankful to Maynard provided an impromptu place to train and sleep, Ryv made use of the lone dummy standing silently before him. It bore the scars of hundreds of impacting strikes, each one guided by the young Jedi Knight's struggle to seek peace within his troubled mind. Each day brought a new challenge to overcome, an enemy to defeat, or battle to be fought for the New Jedi Order and Galactic Alliance. While he no longer stood alone in the face of such problems, the Kiffar couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by the galaxy at large. The New Imperial Order warred with the Sith Empire, while the Galactic Alliance appeared on the verge of conflict with either the Confederacy or Union. He couldn't imagine having to look those closest to him in the eyes once more, asking them to take up arms and fight yet another battle. Leadership behooved the Jedi Knight, more so than any other challenge he'd come across.

To clear his mind, Ryv worked over the dummy with a grueling regime of attack patterns from forms I, III, IV, and V. While Djem So and Shien evolved into the young Jedi's preferred styles, his roots in Shii-Cho and Ataru were not forgotten. If anything, he considered them both suitable back pocket resources to bust out in a pinch. Still, until such a need arises, their usefulness began and ended on the stationary dummy. A swift stroke of his training saber saw the sparring partner tip on one side, threatening to tumble over to the ground, only to find itself righted as Ryv struck out twice more, setting it straight one again. He danced around it, striking it from every direction, guided only by instinctual movements provided by the Force's guiding hand. Following the cosmic power, the Jedi Knight eventually saw the dummy dropped to the floor, utilized as a seat after his exhausting workout.

Auteme's arrival caught Ryv's attention, pulling it away from the training saber held tight in his off-hand. He set it down, replacing it with the bottle of water beside his foot. He offered her a quick nod before downing a healthy amount of the refreshing beverage, thankful he'd brought it along in the first place.

"Uh, hey there, Auteme," Ryv set the drink down atop the dummy before moving across the room. "What's up?"
 
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Ryv Ryv


It was... difficult, to say the least.

Seeing Ryv training when she entered led her to believe that he was stressed. Auteme had hoped to change his attitude, just a little. Feeling responsible for everything was unhealthy. Maybe it was good for him to keep training, to keep his mind both focused and occupied. It seemed like he was done with his practice so she hoped this was a good time to talk to him.

"Are you... any good at that? I can never tell," she admitted. Being the only person aboard the Renegade without a lightsaber was a constant reminder of how Auteme was different from the other Jedi. She'd never practiced, and she didn't watch often, especially since she'd left Peace Station. It was difficult to know what skill looked like to one who had none.

What's up. That was less than helpful. Usually she relied on Ryv to talk lots, but with the ball back in her court it forced Auteme to speak her mind. If that was good or bad, she hadn't yet decided. "Well... you know, I thought we could... talk." Well, now they were talking. She mentally kicked herself. "I just feel like I haven't really seen you in a long time." Before and after Muunilist had certainly been a busy time for the Jedi, but Auteme had spent most of her time on Coruscant, studying for her degree and soon to be working for the Senate.

She took a deep breath. Why was this so nerve-wracking for her? Nothing was wrong. Just talk. "Anyways, I... thank you for talking to the Chancellor. I'm going to be working as a scribe in the Senate, starting this week, so that's good," she said.

"Um... how was Muunilist? Did you get hurt? I saw Loske after and ended up treating her, and... well, she was hurt pretty bad." He probably knew that. Whatever.
 
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Ryv looked over his shoulder at the toppled dummy, considering her question for a moment. When they first attended Aaran's class together, the brawnier of the three showed a level of skill with a lightsaber that far surpassed Ryv. It wasn't any different from Bernard, with Ryv falling short in comparison to the Arkanian as well. It might've been the years away from training, his recovering body from substance abuse, or disinterest in mastering the saber. Back then, Ryv undoubtedly competed for dead last with the fabled Jedi weapon. It never bothered him, though, given that undying optimism that followed him everywhere. He always saw Bernard or Aaran's skills as earned, something to look up to and strive to emulate. Just as he saw Loske's bravery or Auteme's keen intellect as traits to hold in high regard. Now? Looking over the dummy, considering the grueling practice he underwent daily, on top of the dozen or more battles he'd strung together the last couple years? Ryv looked back to Auteme, nodding his head.

"Yeah, I think I'm alright. I had a good teacher," Ryv, of course, meant Cedric, the man who brought him back from the brink. "Experience helps a lot. I wasn't mentally prepared for the kinda stuff I'd see on the battlefield. It took experiencing it, pushing past how crappy it made me feel, and overcoming the fear of having to face it again, for me to become any better, I think," he crossed his arms over his chest, the angry, white scarring she'd come to recognize on full display. He tilted his head and watched her, waiting for something. What was he waiting for exactly? Even then, right in front of her, Ryv could feel the pulsating touch of his bond to another. No matter the circumstances, it remained a constant within his life, reminding him he wasn't alone. Yet, gazing into the familiar green eyes of the woman before him, Ryv felt a sense of regret he hadn't expected.

"Yeah, Auteme, don't worry about it," Ryv reached up, a hand kneading the back of his neck as he spoke. "I couldn't think of a better Jedi to help keep him on the right track, or represent what we're building up here with the Alliance," his words carried sincerity within them, the Padawan representing a much brighter segment of what the Jedi could be to the galaxy. That viewpoint hammered home as Muunilist soon came up. "Uh, it, uh..." the Kiffar stumbled through his words, his mind's eye flashing with memories of the battle. "It sucked if I'm honest. Not as bad as Kintan, considering there weren't any innocents around. But you know how it is, its a war zone. At any given moment, you're hearing people freak out, or die. Explosions are going off the entire time. It leaves you wondering if that next one might be aimed at you. It's scary to think about. You can control the battle around you, make sure no random blaster bolts catch you unawares. You can't control a bombing run or sudden artillery barrage. If those catch you? You're kinda just doomed."

Loske's condition hadn't escaped Ryv, that much is true. It came to him shortly after the initial assault, shared to him by Maynard before they engaged in a series of hit-and-run night raids against Blackguard held positions throughout the city. Ryv normally couldn't stand the fighting, but the distraction from his best friend's condition didn't go unappreciated.

"Thanks for taking care of her. I was worried she wouldn't get proper treatment, not gonna lie. Allyson mentioned to me you took on some of that burden, helped ease all the worries," Ryv slipped his hands into his pockets, a sigh escaping him. "I realized a lot out there. To be honest, I realized a lot before all of that. We're uh, we're in different places right now, Auteme. When we first got together, we both kinda wandered around, trying to fit in and find out how we can help everyone else. I've always felt you've had the potential to be so much, and you've proven that—Senate scribe, accomplished healer, and attending CU. I've always been a dude with a lightsaber, thwacking the guys causing problems around the galaxy. To some folks, I'm a hero. To me, though, you're a hero, Auteme. And, since I'm being honest right now," he swallowed, pushing back loose strands of hair as he struggled to get the words out.

"I'm holding you back. I think I've been holding you back from the beginning—a fun way to spend the weekend away from your studies, yeah. I provided some humor here and there, just behaving like an average guy. But now? Now I'm wrapped up in a war taking me around the galaxy. You've been so worried about my well-being for so long, and that isn't gonna change anytime soon," Ryv stepped past her, gently setting his forehead against the blast door's frame as he spoke. "I'm just not right for you anymore, Auteme. Honestly, I don't think I've ever been. And I'm sorry about that."


 
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Ryv Ryv


Crack.

Crack.

Crack.

And it all came tumbling down.

"What- why-" Auteme searched for the reasoning in his words. What he said directly dissatisfied her. Holding her back? Why would he ever think that? She was just trying to help. She needed to help someone, anyone. Desperately. Was that why she'd come here? Because Ryv was her last hope? She'd walked into this room ready to work to fix things, to cross the distance between them. She'd been building a bridge, only to reach halfway across and learn that he wasn't trying anymore.

No, that wasn't it. She'd come here hoping to save him. She thought she knew how he struggled and thought she could help. Now this was just like everything else. Auteme thought she might be able to help on a large scale, only to feel trapped in a desk job at the Senate. So she tried to help her friends, only to be left behind, to watch from the sidelines as they got hurt and she was powerless to do anything but wait until they could come back so she could try to put them back together. Finally she arrived here to try and fix things with Ryv. She thought she'd helped him. She thought, of everything in the galaxy, she could help him. Now she just felt cut off, abandoned, just like always.

Like her parents, when she was little. Or her mentor, when she was sixteen. Or just about anything else.

When they'd talked on Tython she thought she'd found something permanent. They'd mended their relationship then. It felt as if she could make it through anything, as if for once there was something consistent in her life aside from herself.

But this? Just another reminder that nothing was permanent, that the galaxy would force her to be alone. Always. It was a curse.

No, that wasn't right, either. Her mind filled with excuses, explanations, anything to justify what was happening. The scientific approach -- there was always a reason. There was always something causing it. But deep down she knew that these things didn't always make sense, not at first.

She'd never been broken up with before. This being the first time she'd felt anything like it, it made sense that she didn't know how to handle it. Was it naive of her to think that this relationship would last? The gap between them had grown, and she had to stop trying to cross it. Ryv had.

It didn't make sense. It still hurt. And Auteme needed time to process. As tears welled up in her eyes the padawan turned away, heading blindly for the exit, soon running past him and back to the uncomfortable, unfamiliar bed that she'd been forced into aboard the ship. But it was better than nothing. Soon she'd bundled herself up in a nest of tears and bedding, and she gave herself time to think.
 

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