Dire Wolf
So who's ready to help me sock ol Adolf on the jaw?!
2,894 posts
49 likes
Have dakka will travel
|
|
last online May 6, 2020 18:55:51 GMT -5
Master
|
|
|
Aug 28, 2010 16:23:45 GMT -5
Post by Dire Wolf on Aug 28, 2010 16:23:45 GMT -5
The "All Under Heaven" wasn't the largest ship in space to be sure, but that hardly meant she was the smallest. Her common room may have doubled her galley and her cargo room, but she wasn't meant to be a cargo liner or a luxury yacht. She was a warship, first and foremost. A single corridor connected the cockpit and the common room, and a pair of hatches that lead to personal quarters lined each wall.
It was down one of these hatches, in room that Lys had emptied out long ago, that she currently resided. While most Jedi were content with simply resting in a serene place while they found their center, Lys never bothered to. Instead, the woman found her center in practicing her martial arts on invisible enemies in the form of a kata. Her body seemed to be on auto pilot as it performed the slow dance of kicks and elbows, each one having been performed on someone or something at a certain point in her life.
Lys' mind, her awareness, and even her presence retreated back into her body as she went through the motions of her kata. She reflected on every last moment of her leave from the Order, and as much as her memory allowed on Rhen Var. Which wasn't much. Rhen Var was shrouded in a thick mist, one that only grew thicker the harder she tried to see through it. Though something told her that she didn't want to remember what happened on that frigid world, and that her inability to do so was a small mercy.
So she recounted her journey within her own mind, musing on her triumphs and wondering what could have been done differently when it came to her failures. Her dance trembled and fell apart when she came upon her torture at the hands of a mad Sith. That memory was something best left forgotten, but she doubted it ever would be. The steel table and the flaming brand still haunted her dreams, and likely would for the rest of her life.
Lyssah rose from her ruin and did her best to find her center once more, but it was all for naught. With a heavy sigh, she decided to take a small reprieve from meditation and make a sojourn to the ship's supply of food. A slight smile pushed the corner of her lips out as she climbed the ladder up to that corridor, and small part of her mind wondered just what Magdalena was up to.
|
|
|
|
Apillis
Poonikins
1,153 posts
108 likes
Cotton candy, sweet and low, let me see that tootsie roll!
|
|
last online May 10, 2023 15:20:37 GMT -5
Master
|
|
|
Aug 29, 2010 6:36:20 GMT -5
Post by Apillis on Aug 29, 2010 6:36:20 GMT -5
The little crew quarter individualized rooms were a nice little place for solace for the tiny Miraluka girl. Within the ship, she had stripped herself of her cultural decorative attire. Merely tan hued clothe wraps wrapped repeatedly over her chest for a couple layers, a simple black clothe wrap blindfold, and a tied black sarong hanging off her hips. She sat in the middle of the small crew quarters on the floor with unique Mythics incense sticks burning as she meditated.
Taking in and letting out deep relaxing breaths, but also taking in the streaming bits of smoke into her lungs. The hallucinogenic properties of the incense begun to wash over within Magdalena's mind taking her a far different level of equanimity she would normally form normal means within meditation. The Mythos meant little to her outside of merely being the Force as the Mythics understood it, but since her abandonment of the Jedi Order and joining the Mythics while reconnecting more deeply with her own heritage -- her view of the Force continued to alternate.
As she continued to fall into a far deeper meditative state, she felt the tinge of darkness within her from Ambria still lingering if only a little. It was a small thread to which she continued to pull on as she incited what her people call, Bogan. As Bogan, exists within all life, the malice, hate, fear, anger, anguish -- she continued pulling on Bogan's thread. The effects of Etherium she could feel tingling throughout her body, for her petite frame, it did not take long to take effect on her.
Follwoing Bogan's thread to its source within her, numerous visions flashed within her mind. Dark cloaked figures attacking another dark figure in dark green, lightsabers drawn on each side, they clashed and violence ensued. Images of death, hate, and expressed rage through power all clashed within her mind, Bogan was telling her something. She could feel it, Bogan was speaking but she did not understand the dark whispers in the air. She lacked the perception -- the ability to gaze much deeper than she can. By the visions end, Bogan that lay within her appeared to her as her master, her mother -- they are one in the same as she understood them and saw them. The girl loved them.
The young Miraluka's mind faded away into nothingness and darkness, and when her mind had returned from dark oblivion, what felt like a mere passing second had been several hours past. She looked to the incense sticks she had been burning before her and saw they were just a centimeter from their end. Beside the burning incense sticks she has a small pouch, reaching into the little pouch she pulled out a small capsule of Etherium, one among several she kept in the little pouch. After cracking open the little capsule, she quickly inhaled the substance through her narrow bridged little nose. With a little shake of her head she wearily rose to a stand, quite heavily intoxicated by the effects of Etherium.
At last stepping out of small crew quarters room she has been residing in aboard Lyssah's ship, Magdalena wandered out. Her manner had changed a bit from her usual, inebriated as she is. Rather than the melancholy, reserved silence she normal shows, she appeared a bit little different, no so much more energetic or lively, but more easy-to-read and open would be more accurate to say by even simple sight of her demeanor and disposition.
The little thing simply wandered about the ship in curiosity, it was almost as if she had never seen it before despite having traveled to at least to and from Ambria. A little fidgety she checked the knot of her sarong to make she it still remained snuggly hanging off of her hips. Though, but this point where she was within the ship was just at the point where Lyssah was entering. With a tiny little almost inaudible gasp, her head quickly turned to Jedi Master. But those luminous, shining shades of Ashla that composed Lyssah, Magdalena took on a very girlish if not somewhat cute and animated smile; quite on unlike the more serious and shy disposition she typically has.
"Master Rhissai!", she sprightly greeted as she abruptly wrapped her arms around the raven haired woman for hug. The petite Miraluka girl's height was only such that her arms were for the most part around Lyssah's mid-section, and her face buried in the former Council woman's chest as the little Miraluka even somewhat nestled her head there as if resting her head on a pillow... or pillows in this case. With a little... almost impish snicker, Magdalena uttered with a little bit of a spirited tone in her kindly and... affectionate... greeting, "Thank you for letting me travel with you... I never did thank you for that... so I'm doing so now. Not... not many... well... no one... ever has in the past. And you've proven to be... a friend. Ashla always shine bright in you."
|
|
|
|
Dire Wolf
So who's ready to help me sock ol Adolf on the jaw?!
2,894 posts
49 likes
Have dakka will travel
|
|
last online May 6, 2020 18:55:51 GMT -5
Master
|
|
|
Sept 3, 2010 21:48:20 GMT -5
Post by Dire Wolf on Sept 3, 2010 21:48:20 GMT -5
Lyssah ran a hand through her raven hair, not noticing the almost silken quality of the strands. A frustrated sigh caused her shoulders to dip down as that hand drifted through her hair, and she found that her memories wouldn't leave her time with Silas, and her torture. Pulsing began on her palm, in the shape of that terrible brand on the formerly soft flesh there.
The woman was mired so deep within her thoughts that she barely noticed the petite woman draw near, or the girlish grin on her face. In fact, her mind wasn't even in the realm of reality until Magdalena's excited squeal reached her ears. Lys blinked, and saw the girl rushed over and wrapped her arms around her tight... face nestled against her chest.
Lys blinked, and looked down at the girl as she let out that impish snicker and the rather... effervescent... words. The former Jedi Master wasn't entirely sure what to do, which was a rarity. The look on Lys' face was one that screamed confusion and with more than a hint of awkwardness, and even a fair bit of embarrassment. "Uh... uhhh.... ahhh," she sighed and wrapped her own arms around the girl's small frame. "I-its Lys, Magdalena.
"And... you're welcome, Mag. I'm glad you consider my a friend, I see you as the same. You're one of the few people I trust," Lys chose her words carefully, but every last one was true. She didn't quite know who this Ashla was, but assumed it was good... given the circumstances.
But a few short moments afterwards, she kept the girl the embrace before looking down to see if she was content. Friend Mag may have been, but Lys wasn't entirely sure what to think about the position of her head.
|
|
|
|