trans_9 | light & motion

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Current Location: sensoriums

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light & motion

Arha drew a breath in, focusing on the curved discs before her as she moved through a graceful set of katas to warm up. She stretched, letting the sunlight that streaming into the red tiled practice hall warm her back, it glinted of the metal and set her hair afire as she spun through another set. It was a dance, one she had always enjoyed growing up, when the blades were actually sharp--unlike these, which possessed dull edges, thanks to Stacy's carefulness. Arha closed her eyes as her fingers closed around the discs.

She had been waiting for this and a small, hungry smile flicked out across her lips and she threw the bladed discs out. They caught, hovering in the air and she hear the snap! ting! as the blades released. She cricked her neck and let out a laugh as the blades began to spin. No. Wait.

"Pause!" She called. The blades froze. "Blindfold," she said, pictuiring it in her mind. It seemed only right to use all of her senses and to hone those she could. There were eight blades. Arha tied the strip of cloth tight and felt the weight of it hit the air and brush her shoulders.

"Resume."

Move.

She swept left, rolling to avoid the whir, her neck craned as the spinning disc sliced through the spot her head had been, the breeze of its passage a whisper against her cheek. She found the two curved blades she had set aside earlier and the soft chink as she pulled them apart echoed. The Force was there, like a quiet ripple and she pulled upon her own training as she opened her mind. This was a dance of mathematics, physics, and, indeed, prescience in the heat of battle. Sunlight threw reflections from the whirring blades as she settled into the calm oasis where there was nothing at all besides the motion of her body and the quickness of her mind.

Ting!

A blade fell, too dull to bury itself into the floor, the tinny sound of it spinning echoed. Ting! Another bounced off a column. Arha flipped, her back curving, then twisting bizarrely as she avoided a blow to her lower back. The angle was wrong and she hissed as the edge of the blade glanced off her shoulder, leaving a stinging sensation. It would have been a decent scratch if it had been real. She landed, cat-like, her blade snapping out to send the offending disc skittering across the floor, the ting! unsatisfying. She moved again, bent backwards with her hair brushing the floor, complete control over her body keeping her upright. Ting!

There!

Her breath caught as she slammed her weapons out to catch two more discs. The sound of them striking opposite columns was loud. Two more. Two more. Do not become giddy, for it distrac-- Arha sucked in a breath and deflected another disc (both of her blades clattered out of reach from the glancing blow) as a wave of the Force washed over her. She held her hands up, fingers spread as she breathed hard. It was right there, right in front of her face. The whirring increased even as she moved away. Concentration pulled bright spots before her eyes as she squeezed them shut and pushed. It was the barest of things, not enough to make a breeze and it certainly was nothing but potential.

And yet, timing was everything.

The disc wobbled as it destabilized and spun off in another direction. Arha hit the floor a second later as she ripped the blindfold off, suddenly exhausted. She stayed where she was and heard the disc finally clatter to the floor some moments later. Now, her shoulder throbbed.

[[Brought to you by: Fight the Darkness- Two Steps From Hell]]

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That little blip was enough to turn his feet there. Luke had been hoping to find his father, but Anakin needed time to digest everything that had happened, and Luke instinctively knew that without his space, his father would be liable to simply explode again.

So instead he followed this Force tickle, and found himself standing before a floored Arha surrounded by disks. Curiously, Luke asked, "Are you all right?" as he stepped over the disks and extended to hands to help her up.

"I'm..." Arha sighed and took his offered hands. "I was unprepared for the last disc." His hands,, solid in her own, were an anchor, and she stood fluidly. She hung inches away as if suspended there. Arha's voice was soft as her words flicked out. "I feel as if I have popped something in my head. I lost my blades and then," she pursed her lips, her eyes slightly, if comically, wide, "pop!"

Edited 2009-09-15 05:29 (UTC)

"That must have been what I felt," he murmured, then seemed to suddenly realize Arha was less than a handspan from his face. His cheeks went pink, and those blue eyes looked away a moment before he stepped back a pace, hands dropping hers.

"I felt a little exertion in the Force," Luke explained. "And I followed it here. It had a very distinct tone to it, one that I think I associate with you now." He smiled, a little awkwardly. "What did you use it for?"

"I believe I destabilized one of the motors in the disc," Arha said, politely ignoring his blushing. "It would have broken my nose, otherwise. I need more practice if I cannot handle eight blades. I should have been sliced more than once."

She let out a softly frustrated sigh and clasped her hands behind her back.

"I was," Arha gestured to where the cloth strip lie, "attempting to sense the blades without seeing them. I did not expect..." She shrugged. "To pop."

Luke felt better when he stepped back. Whatever was going on between them, he had no idea how to handle yet. And the Force didn't often intervene in personal matters. Perhaps it just hated gossip.

Perhaps it knew his own conflict could only be solved by himself.

"It happens unexpectedly sometimes," he said. "You need to focus on your control; sensing the position of objects in the room without affecting them is a skill that's surprisingly hard to master. A lot of Jedi, when they get angry, cause things to rattle and... make waves in the Force." He waved his hand. "Do you understand? It's like a giant wave in a calm lake."

"I understand," she said quietly. "It is putting it into practice, that requires work. I have to focus in a much different way, I think. I am used to using my senses. Thus, it was my idea to blindfold myself so that I should not be tempted to use my eyes. It did not work quite the way I hoped."

She padded to retrieve the discs, which had retracted their blades, and slid them back within each other.

"I can try it again, if you wish to observe."

Edited 2009-09-15 06:11 (UTC)

"I'd love to." Luke stepped back to where he could still have a good view, but didn't think himself in danger of being hit accidentally. "Is this all right, or do you want me farther back?"

"That is acceptable," she said with a nod. "I shall not let them near you, in any case. If these were real, they would cut readily, but they are not. Only bruises and pride wounding...and a broken nose if one is stupid enough to stand in the wrong space." Arha rolled her sore shoulder and set the discs down to stretch out her arm muscles. It took but a moment and she was ready for another round.

"Shall I attempt the blindfold or simply do this as I would any other practice?"

Luke thought a moment. "Do it blindfolded," he said at last. "I'd like to see you do the same that called me in, if you can. If not, well..." he smiled. "I've never seen you practice before. Maybe I can give it a try when you're done."

Quietly as Arha began, Obi-Wan leaned himself just inside the door, watching. He didn't say a word, only observed with a bland expression and gave a nod to Luke, as one professional might give to another. He'd been drawn here just as Luke had, of course, but made no fuss, only motioned for Arha to get on with it.

She looked thoughtfully at Obi-Wan as he appeared, then closed her eyes, and reviewed the entire incident. Recreation would be done in the exact same manner, though she would bruise her shoulder further. Such was the price learning demanded. Arha ran through the meditative series of movements first, her movements fluid, her lines clean, as she drew her breath in. She flung the blades out, paused the program, put the blindfold on, and felt the blades, reaching out with her other senses in the exact same way she had done previous.

Every movement was the same as before, right down to the timing, the ferocity, and the chink! as she pulled her blades apart. Every ting! and the exact way her blades struck the discs matched, right down to the error that send them spinning away from her and the reverberating strike as the blade came down against her shoulder.

She sensed it clearer, now, the gathering of energy that resulted in the sharp pop! of the Force. The disc destabilized and went crashing across the hall. Once again, she ripped the blindfold off, as she landed. Arha's jaw was tight as she stayed there for a moment, then rolled onto her back to stare at the ceiling. That moment, the one where the disc was right there, I could almost see it. That was the point at which the build released, she thought.

Arha flipped to her feet and surveyed the position of the discs critically.

"I must find real blades," she murmured and worked to ease her building headache as well as the bruised shoulder.

Luke had been feeling more than watching the fight. He'd sensed the buildup of Force energy in Arha, being drawn more slowly than the most junior apprentice at his Temple, and yet, it amazed him. Here was a woman who couldn't even touch the Force when he'd arrived, drawing up on it--clumsily, but still drawing upon it.

They'd have to work on getting her to the point where it didn't hurt her though.

"I didn't mean you had to hurt yourself again," he said, keeping his tone light. "Let's have a look at that arm." Walking forward, Luke grasped her arm and the curve of her shoulder, palm pressed warmly against her back, slowly flexing it.

"Were you consciously trying to draw the Force to you?" Luke asked.

"She must have been," Obi-Wan interrupted, frowning thoughtfully as he watched the way they interacted, the angle of her body against Luke's hand, the easy familiarity. He decided not to comment on it and said instead, "Like the way water goes through a pinhole, at first nothing and then suddenly a droplet."

Arha closed her eyes, seeking the moment again. Yes. That build up, there. An access attempt, unconscious and yet conscious on a minute level. She withdrew for awhile, deep enough that the Jedi and the room faded (it took no time for time, in this space, did not exist), that all before her was body and mind, linked and reviewed. She sifted through the layers of her consciousness in seconds as Luke's hand settled against her back.

"A piece of conscious effort," Arha said. "Like the hand that comes up to block a blow. That time I felt it build, but I had begun to block it the instant it formed. This action stifled the release, triggering the pop and the unfocused exit." Her fingers touched Luke's knuckles briefly, brow furrowing the tiniest bit.

"It may not have worked again in the same fashion had I not done each step in order," she said, her voice quiet. "The shoulder will be fine in a day or two. I have no loss of motion." Her blue-within-blue eyes studied Obi-Wan's face for a long moment.

"It is a good analogy, though water should not be wasted with pinholes." Her lips curved in a wry smile.

Luke flexed it a last time, then stepped back. "It's a start," he said, going back to stand beside Obi-Wan again. "It's amazing you can sense and use it at all. But holding it in until it snaps up like a hungry sarlacc doesn't work so well."

Luke paused a moment, thinking. He'd learned what he was going to say next from Obi-Wan aboard the Falcon, and part of him felt odd to be saying it next to the man himself. But he was a Master too, although he'd still defer to Obi-Wan's wisdom even so. It just felt wrong not to.

"Next time you try this exercise," he said, "Trust in your feelings. Don't think about where the next attack is going to be coming from."

"I couldn't have said it any better," Obi-Wan nodded, "You took the words right out of my mouth!"

Arha had asked him for learning, but...well, Luke had been here first, in more ways than the immediate. Too many cooks spoil the meal, as the saying went. Ben stepped back again, against the wall where he'd originally leaned. The path of seniority wasn't clear here, but Obi-Wan had never been ambitious.

"I will do it again," Arha said, flicking a glance between the two men. "With less blades." She was already moving, determination pulling her shoulders into alignment as she tightened the blindfold. There was a moment where she stood still, then set her hand-held blades down before flinging the two discs away from her.

Instead of tensing, she let go. There was stillness, a ripple, then another. She stood, immobile, just breathing as she tentatively let her mind expand. Arha pivoted at the last moment and deflected one blade, which twisted and wrenched her blade free. She made a soft noise of dissatisfaction as it went skittering loudly across the floor as the other sliced by her side. She arched her back in an unnatural curve, a hand on the floor as she flipped out of the way.

No thinking. Just feeling.

She swept away, catlike as she flattened to avoid getting smashed in the temple. Breathe. Focus. Ah...it comes. Buzzing. It buzzed in the back of her skull. Arha moved, twisting her cheek away, and felt the air shift, cooling as the spinning blades whizzed passed.

The buzzing grew again, a tingle that raced along her body, and she let it run as her hand came up, graceful like a palmstrike gesture. Like the Weirding Way.

It was different, the pull was different. Arha rocked back and instead of pushing, let it flow. Like water. There was effort to it, still, and it was no stream. Again, a breath, but this time, it did not hurt. The disc clattered in front of her, tinny as it settled, and Arha pulled the blindfold away with trembling fingers.

She could not attempt that again.

Luke couldn't help the little smile and small rush of pride; it was like seeing a youngling get a training exercise right for the first time and then staring in surprise as if they didn't believe it. Still, it was a step in... well, whatever direction they wanted to take this in.

"Did that feel any different?" he asked, then glanced over at Obi-Wan. There was a protocol here Luke felt rather certain he was breaking, but then again, there had been so many changes between Obi-Wan's Order and Luke's New Jedi Order that it was difficult to tell what would be considered appropriate. "Were you better able to sense the discs as they came at you?" he asked, turning his eyes back to Arha.

Obi-Wan mirrored that smile. It wasn't ideal, but it was something. He couldn't train Arha as he'd trained Anakin, and to try and do so would be foolish. Still...

"Perhaps we should try something...more aimed towards stretching your control than your timing," Obi-Wan ventured, biting back his hesitation ruthlessly. The chain of seniority was so obfuscated, it was difficult to know if he ought to back down or assert himself, "Contrary to popular opinion, we're not usually given to handing weapons prospective Jedi on the first day and seeing if they can sense things blindfolded without hurting themselves in the process."

"Control is essential to timing," Arha agreed, moving lean herself next to Obi-Wan as she thought it over. She wound up sliding down the wall a second later and sat, haphazard as she drifted over the attempts. "There should be a clear cut lesson plan with routine and a chain seniority in teaching if you both wish to teach me. I benefit from both of your expertise, as always, but..."

She gestured lightly.

"Such things would be ideal. I am no creature from your Universe. I do not know how you go about teaching, so, I shall defer to the Jed-Eye in this matter." She leaned her head back against the wall, a half glance angled up to Obi-Wan. "Am I not your..." she grasped at the word.

"...ah...you Jed-Eye and your words. Learner. Student. Paddyone?"

Obi-Wan's words brought a little smile to the Jedi Master's face, as though he were remembering something from long ago, fondly. "No, that's not usually the practice," he agreed, then fell silent as Arha spoke. Much as he'd like to teach her himself--she was a fascinating woman and he wouldn't have minded spending those hours somewhere sparring and imparting knowledge of the Force, even if it was only the knowledge and not the practice--Obi-Wan was of a higher rank in Luke's mind. If not in actuality, as a mark of respect.

Luke nodded his head, as if coming to a decision. "Ben did teach me a great deal," he said. "It'd be better if you learned it right from him anyway."

Luke bowed his head to Obi-Wan, as he'd do for a fellow Master. "If that's all right with you?"

Obi-Wan's smile was full and warming, and he offered a polite bow to acknowledge Arha's words.

"It's more than alright, it would be my honor," He replied simply, and offered a handshake to Luke, "But you offer your own insight. Would you mind offering your counsel and perhaps a lesson or two when I find myself at a loss?"

"I cannot imagine such," Arha drawled, "but I am grateful for any knowledge at any time and in any situation. I am going to enjoy," she paused to wipe her voice clean of weariness and tug her mind back into focus.

"...learning this Force very much." She locked her body so it would stay upright and smiled. "It has been awhile since I have been so pleased to learn something that promises difficulty."

He reached over and shook Obi-Wan's hand, sending along with it a wave of some of the deep respect he had for the other Master. If anyone could teach someone of the Force, it had to be Obi-Wan. "I'd be happy to, Ben, but you probably know it all anyway."

"All the things that are worth learning leave you feeling like you've been run over by a herd of nerfs." Luke's smile had dimmed a bit but was still there, playing about his mouth. "Which is why you need to rest up. I don't doubt that Master Ben will work you hard learning what you can of the Force."

"Well, Anakin never complained. Well, not much, not in public, at least," Obi-Wan gave Luke a sardonic little smile; he was teasing, mostly, "In polite company he manages to keep it down to mere sarcasm, which I feel is quite an accomplishment for him...but honestly, a Master is only a teacher for as long as he continues learning."

He let go of Luke's hand, and nodded to Arha, "Busy day, tomorrow. You'll need your focus."

"I complain not," she murmured distantly, her eyes half-slitted. "It is I who wish to learn, after all. I am focused. Very focused." Arha paused. "I need times and dates and a schedule. This day is not over yet, I think. There is still time for learning."

Luke watched them a moment, several things flitting around his head, and then quietly left the sensorium. His presence wasn't needed there any longer, and in any case, Arha wasn't his student--not really, anyway. Obi-Wan seemed to be happiest teaching, and far be it for Luke to interrupt that.

Sheeana felt something jolt, like a thopter having a hard landing on plascrete. She had instinctively crouched. Nothing in the hallways. Hand on her crysknife, she opened the sensorium door.

A columned chamber that could have come from Muad'dib's citadel. Training blades whose design had remained mostly identical for six thousand years.

And Sister Masaari.

She didn't ask what had happened but knew she would be told anyway.

Arha let out a soft pfft air and sighed before flipping to her feet to face Sheeana. Wordlessly, she collected the discs and folded them back together before setting them down along with the blades and scrubbing at her hair before working at the headache that had begun to build.

"That," she finally said in a voice that she picked clean of any weariness, "was unexpected. It popped. In my head." She frowned and crossed her arms. "I must find real blades, these dull things do nothing for my motivation."

Edited 2009-09-16 04:10 (UTC)

"Hmm...We should consult the Jedi." This wasn't something you'd think a Bene Gesserit would say, with the font of knowledge in their heads. But rely on Other Memory too much and it becomes a trap. Sheeana knew that. Arha probably did too.

She plucked one of the blades from where it was embedded in a marble column. The black plasteel was, to all senses, cold and sharp.

"Precisely why I don't train here. How many?"

"There were eight, only eight," Arha murmured. "And I shall speak with the Jed-Eye. I should have seen if there were some of these elsewhere. A slice or two would do me well in remembering my skills. They were always my favorite. Very good for peripherals without the blindfold."

"Even in my time eight is an impressive number. False modesty does not suit a Reverend Mother." She regarded the blade oddly, ran her finger along the edge. She had fallen into the role of teaching her fellow, despite being the younger. Her education had in a way been incomplete, the Sisterhood caring me to get her onto [Ar]Rakis than providing her with all the skills she would need. In a strange way she could empathize.

We were fools to meddle with that planet and we payed the price...for three thousand years.

She tossed the blade up where it spun in the air, floating on its suspensor.

"Poorly executed," Arha said with an arch of her eyebrows. "The modesty is not false if one is disappointed in the results. I should have been sliced on more than one occasion. I attempted nine once and barely escaped with my hide intact. It is always the last that is of the greatest threat. Clearly, I need greater focus."

Arha watched the blade spine, her face clean of expression. She would find real ones.

"May I try?"

With Arha's assenting nod, Sheeana gathered the things from the floor and walls. She held them between her fingers and flung them out where they hovered in formation in midair.

And she danced.

Like talking to ~~shaitan~~ shai-halud. It was without a rythm for them to track. Nothing in her movements suggested a pattern they could bring their little mechanical brains to bear on. Crisp and soft, she was a blur between modes. They zoomed about, little blind, confused things. In fact, the greatest hazard was that they would continue on their courses without knowing if you were there or not.

She grew tired of decieving them, however...

...It seemed a little against the point of the exercise.

She stopped dead still and stamped.

One. Two. One. Two. Like a thumper. She could almost feel the phantom eyes of The Tyrant's priest on her, watching from the safe distance of a thopter.

They turned, insomuch as the term was applicable since they were in a constant spin.

And pursued her.

She flung herself down. They came over top, a cutting wind. A foot lashed out behind her, scorpionlike, as she sprung up on her hands. One hit the floor but the rest had her sighted. She was forced to scramble and sprint to get to the other side of the floor.

She dropped into a crouch to allow another one to pass over her head and embed itself in a pillar again. A strip of her wild, dark red hair hit the floor too.

Two opposed rolls brought her behind the pillar, with five blades now embedded in it. Two whirred menacingly at her from about chest height to her small frame. She was out in the open and they were too low to duck under.

She lept. A foot came down on one and she followed it down. She landed on it as it went skidding away...along with her balance. Her own foot was suddenly no longer in position to support her, having been on the now nonfunctional blade. She tucked her head in and found herself on her back, the wind leaving her lungs.

The final blade bore down.

Fraction of a second to react. She caught it between her palms. The edge kissed the tip of her nose then sputtered out.

She sucked air in with a smirk.

Arha watched without comment, taking in the movements, how they worked in the space of the hall and against the blades. Wild and Fremen and rhythmless, bladeless. Interesting. Arha pulled the basic principles in, turned them over in her mind, and nodded once.

"I see," she murmured, folding her arms. And she did see; the non-patterns, the use for them, the way it all came together.

There was a small red line across Sheeana's nose that should have been bleeding. Fremen blood coagulated fast.

She got awkwardly to her feet, still breathing hard. "Darwi said...I could eventually teach it."

"Such would be handy," Arha said after a moment of silence, "and obviously useful." Like a sandstorm, it was wildly unpredictable as well.

Sheeana dropped the blade and it clattered to the floor. There were more marks on her palms and they stung. She cocked her head in silent offering.

"I could get rid of those," Arha said, her lips twisting is a faint smile. She was already stepping forward, ready to both learn more of this technique and offer to take the sting out. It was the least of things to do.

She nodded in silent thanks and held her hands out. "Leave on on each hand, please. As reminders."

"Of course," Arha murmured. It was not a difficult thing to do to take minor things from others. A tug, a wash of heat, direction, a soft, hazy weariness. That was all. There were two marks, the rest were healed. Arha let out a sigh and sat, rubbing her hands together to dissipate the heat left in them. It was never a thing she could use upon herself, but her own abilities allowed for faster than common healing.

It was fine.

She felt her hands tingle, then suddenly itch madly. The accelerated healing...It was an irritant as well as a blessing.

She looked at them, suddenly clean of marks except for two.

"Are you feeling up to trying it?"

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light & motion

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I could try and avoid having him say it, but why bother?

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1/2

2/2: the deadliest game of DDR you've never played

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