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  1. In Memory of LAJ_FETT: Please share your remembrances and condolences HERE

Star Wars CLOSED A Star Wars Story: Between Epitaphs

Discussion in 'Role Playing Forum' started by Sinrebirth , Apr 2, 2019.

  1. Sinrebirth

    Sinrebirth Mod-Emperor of the EUC, Lit, RPF and SWC star 10 Staff Member Manager

    Registered:
    Nov 15, 2004
    Between Epitaphs

    The year is 36,454 BBY. Well, thats the year it will be given, when the Battle of Yavin is used as the new point of reference for the galactic calendar. There are other points that this year could be described as, but this is our point of reference so it will do.

    For their reference, it is year 63,546 ATR, as in, After The Recusal. After the God’s, as per Ancient myth, left this realm and recused themselves from the galaxy at large. General belief is that the event they speak of is purely the point where the various species of the galaxy turned away from belief in a higher power, and, rather than violently fight what was patently inevitable, the religious orders across the galaxy formally acknowledged the tide. As such they petitioned their governments to enact a new calendar and formally hand over the galaxy to the people with their Blessing.

    More sanguinely put, it was a method in which to enable said hierophants to manage their decline and retain a measure of control and influence over the masses. But, I digress.

    Welcome to Nouane. A predominantly human world of philosophy, of education, of virile independence. It has not known war, and has retained knowledge of the past, though the inevitable isolation between worlds that has occurred in the last seventy millennia, with the destruction of the Hypergates, and Jump Gates, has caused knowledge to atrophy. The great communion between worlds has fallen into myth, and into Legend. As such, the need for war, for violence, has descended into pastime. The Protectors exist, but for all their avowed histories of fighting in the War of the Temporal Planes, they are more scholar than scholar-monk, but of course there are those among us who take martial matters more seriously.

    I am the sole teacher of the Protectors, and my name, presently, is the Master.

    [​IMG]

    I have five students, each of whom I am about to bequeath Knowledge upon, to bestow a mythical weapon upon; the Forcesaber. Designed to accentuate their bond with the Force and act as access to more latent abilities, they will grow anew.

    And this.

    This is their story.

    —-
    Welcome.

    So it’s you who have came to play. How... interesting. No surprises, of course.

    Alright - The Protectors are the, in theory, spiritual predecessors to the Jedi Order. In theory. The Order has declined with no war to fight in, so the present class is just the five of you and one Master. You’re all at the end of your training; some of you have been training for years, some, for considerably less than the others. Again.

    In theory.

    Either way; this is the sheet.

    Name: Oh yes. The name.
    Age:
    Species: Did you know that there are more than just humans on this little world? Not many, but a wildly alarming variety.
    Gender:
    Personal effects:
    Appearance: A photo is required; to know your face tells me a thousand things.
    Bio:

    Simple, no?

    Don’t be surprised if the format of the Prologue intrigues the five of you, boys and girls.

    ... Rules? Oh yes. We have those. I look forward to seeing your... sheets. Privately revealed to the Master... let us see how much they tell us, and how much they omit to tell.


    Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk
     
    Last edited: Apr 2, 2019
  2. Mitth_Fisto

    Mitth_Fisto Chosen One star 6

    Registered:
    Sep 29, 2005
    the sheet. Master Approved!

    Name: Dunkeel
    Age: 22
    Species: Chistori
    Gender: Male
    Personal effects:Clothes, sword, tool belt, and lockpicks.
    Appearance: [​IMG]
    [​IMG]
    Chistori Orange, Tan, and Brownish Red
    Bio: Hatching is a hard thing. One must fight to live when there is no longer room within the egg, fight or die. It is that simple, as most things in life are.

    Fight or die. Fight or surrender. Fight together, or against each other. Simple? No?

    Only there is an ancient ceremony at the hatching, the eggs are lined up as they hatch, the young kept there for hours until all are free from their shells, forced to wait for their brothers, sisters, and clutch fellows to burst free. If you did not you were left to rot in the shell that held you. The tricky part came in what came next, dividers were placed between the young an elder strode down whacking and clawing at the young. No warning, no meaning, just doing. Any young with a sense of the Force knew what was coming, would see it and feel it as well as hear from the others. When his sister that he had known from within the egg was scratched at she attacked, nearly managing to rip a finger off the old hag before being bludgeoned with a cane. Her wounded body he could feel but not see and then he had his first solid memory beyond form and sound. That of his Mother stepping forward and eating her live.

    At his turn he tried to evade but ultimately let himself be hit, broken of spirit more than gifted with cleverness and they moved down the line. The rest of his life he lived in terror until he ran away from the Chistori district where he was born and raised. It wasn't until later that he learned that his people did not suffer weakness, nor aberrations. The Force was seen as the latter. Like a baby that never hatched on its own, or deformed in the body, it was seen as better to simply try again next mating season and revel in the few that they hatched successfully. Life belonged to those that could fight properly.

    Among the humans and aliens life was still a terror as he learned a trade away from fighting, away from where he would reveal what he was. It was not until a Protector found him, whilst he was there to repair a door that he was offered something else. He left his life behind, although he still does jobs on his own for side money, and whenever out for the Protectors he does his best to simply be the hired help or so deeply enshrouded in a robe that stinks of moldy tomes so none may know whom he is. Only behind Protector walls is he allowed to be who and what he is, without is only terror.

    Simple, no? I suppose.
     
    Last edited: Apr 4, 2019
  3. AgentViper007

    AgentViper007 Force Ghost star 7

    Registered:
    Mar 9, 2005
    Name: Vydra Delomeux

    Age: 36

    Species: Human

    Gender:Male

    Personal effects: Photo of the family, one of his favourite books from the library

    Appearance:[​IMG]

    Bio: On Nouane, knowledge is power.

    To be a part of the Protectors is not just a privilege. It is a honour.

    That is what Vydra thought anyway.

    Born into a family of librarians, Vydra spent his early years scouring his family's library entranced by the information and knowledge that the books and tomes contained. Being an isolated planet was a problem however as people traveled to the planet but the indigenous population never left.

    Vydra yearned to learn more about the known universe and to travel the stars seeking out as many planets as he could. However he had no idea that he was Force sensitive, but he knew that he could hear thoughts and feelings. He had an instinct to guide him in which books to read and it was then that he learnt about the War of the Temporal Planes and the Protectors themselves and the Force powers they wielded.

    As he grew he was slated to own his family’s library. However he was not interested to their disappointment. Instead he wanted to know more about galactic history and more about the Force. What people could do with it and all about the light and dark sides. It piqued his interest more and more. He was able to talk to the philosophers and scholars that passed through to pursue all the knowledge he could find and to hopefully someday improve his limited knowledge of the mystic arts.

    It was then the Vydra resolved to become a Protector, to enhance his abilities and to protect those on the planet including his family from threats from the known and unknown.

    It was then that the Master found him.

    His Force talents were minimal however his knowledge could become useful. He resolved to become a good and loyal student to become not just a formidable scholar but perhaps one day a formidable warrior. Nouane had never known war but it was best to be prepared. Under the Master he was sure to progress.

    Vydra’s adventure is about to begin.
     
  4. Kev-Mas_Colcha

    Kev-Mas_Colcha Force Ghost star 5

    Registered:
    Dec 15, 2002
    GM approved!

    Name: Zas'tel
    Age: He claims to be 25. Nobody really knows whether that's true or not but I guess we'll have to take his word for it.
    Species: Defel
    Gender: Male.
    Personal effects: Zas'tel doesn't really keep much as far as belongings go. He uses his stealth abilities to steal whatever he needs instead.
    Appearance: Zas'tel usually prefers to remain hidden, but when he does make an appearance, he usually appears as a mere silhouette, like this:
    [​IMG]
    Bio: Zas'tel is a bit of an enigma. He prefers to remain hidden from sight and prefers not to let people know much about him simply for the benefits that can be gleamed from it. He discovered his Force sensitivity at a young age and used it to enhance his natural stealth abilities even further without even knowing what it was. To him, he always just thought he was a further evolved version of his race. Little did he know, there was more to his newfound abilities than just hiding better, and he'd soon find that out.
     
  5. HanSolo29

    HanSolo29 RPF/SWC/Fan Art Manager & Bill Pullman Connoisseur star 7 Staff Member Manager

    Registered:
    Apr 13, 2001
    GM Approved!

    Name:
    Dr. Joren Graal
    Age: 34
    Species: Human
    Gender: Male
    Personal effects: A small travel bag filled with items stowed from home, including change of clothes, hygiene products, and various textbooks – the contents tend to vary depending on his visit; a notepad and stylus, voice recorder, and handheld holocam; wrist chrono and utility belt with a pocket vibroblade
    Appearance:
    [​IMG]

    Bio:
    "Knowledge is a destination. Truth, the journey."

    This was the mantra by which Joren Graal lived his carefree and illustrious life. But it did not come without humble beginnings.

    From a very young age, Joren expressed a certain intuition for things beyond the natural realm of human understanding; he found that he could perceive things…feel things that normal people could not. He attributed his gift to the Force, but never found the means to officially confirm or deny his suspicions. This would lead to a lifelong journey to seek answers, and contributed to his decision to pursue ethics and theology as a career path.

    Joren attended Nouane City University (NCU), where he excelled at his studies and achieved his various degrees, including his BA and doctorate. With his reputation and accolades, the university later asked him to carry on as an official member of their faculty team. He gladly accepted the offer and remained at his alma mater to teach and conduct his research. This served as a stepping stone for the fame that would soon come his way.

    Shortly after acquiring his job at NCU, Joren wrote and published his first book, Spiritual Realms, which chronicled his personal experiences traveling for a standard year through the isolated mountain regions of Nouane in search of ethnic and religious significance. It borrowed from a series of essays he previously had published under the same name and quickly soared to the bestselling list, spawning a sequel book, The Spiritual Unknown.

    The acclaim surrounding Graal’s memoir, Spiritual Realms, led to an offer from a local HoloNet channel to host his own documentary and travel series. Based on similar topics covered in his books, the series sent Joren on a globe-trotting adventure around Nouane to focus on the exploration of culture, myth, religious traditions, and how they all linked back to the human condition. The show, Divine Encounters, became a critical and financial success and boosted Joren to worldwide fame.

    [​IMG]
    Dr. Graal on the set of 'Divine Encounters'

    It was through the success of his HoloNet series that Joren discovered the Protectors and their culture. Intrigued by their teachings and moved by their philosophy, he worked diligently with his people to dedicate a portion of his upcoming season to their lifestyle, history, and values...particularly how they all pertained to the Force. This held a personal incentive for Joren, and he did not relent until his crew managed to make all the proper arrangements – the Protectors agreed to allow Graal and his crew to live among them for two weeks to document them and capture all of the necessary footage.

    However, by the time the crew moved into the area and gained clearance to begin pre-production work, the Board of Directors at Joren’s university and his representatives at the network devolved into a financial dispute over sponsors. Both entities wanted full disclosure of the funds and would not budge on their stance. As negotiations commenced, production on the next season of Divine Encounters, and the segment on the Protectors, remained on hold until they reached a resolution.

    Despite the obvious setback, Joren did not let it deter him from fulfilling his own personal journey of self-discovery. He felt himself being lured deeper into the Protectors’ realm, a sensation he would later credit to the will of the Force. In response to this intense calling, he opted to stay with the Protectors in the interim and aimed to learn from them. It was through these teachings that he found his own awakening in the Force – the intimate connection between all living things that opened pathways that he never before imagined. It was the very thing he strived to achieve since childhood.

    But as an intellectual, he often battled with the science behind it all – the practical and impractical, and applying the concept of the Force to a more sensible and pragmatic world. He held onto the hope that he would one day find a definitive answer.

    Now a year later, Dr. Graal continues to meet and take direction from the Protectors, seeking guidance from the Master and honing his awareness in the Force. While he maintains his role as a conscientious and devoted student, he also keeps one foot in the ‘real’ world and continues to teach at NCU and give lectures around Nouane. He also remains optimistic about Divine Encounters and expects a settlement soon, allowing for the show to resume production.

    In his personal life, he has recently married his long-time partner, Tera Morr. The couple is currently expecting their first child.
     
  6. QueenSabe7

    QueenSabe7 Chosen One star 6

    Registered:
    Mar 23, 2001
    Sinre-Approved!

    --

    Character Sheet

    [​IMG]

    Name: Vale Sera
    Age: 32
    Species: Human
    Gender: Female
    Personal effects: onyx wedding ring, personal collection of old books, overused datapad (private), military-issue blaster, rapier sword and sheath

    Appearance
    [​IMG]

    Bio:
    Living in the southern outskirts of Nouane’s capital city, Vale is presently living a life of her choice and making.

    Brought up in a household that highly valued protecting the planet that sustains them, she entered the armed forces branch of the military as a teenaged cadet and dutifully climbed her way up the ranks, gaining notoriety for her shrewd intelligence and savviness along the way. Of course, Nouane had little need for a well-built army as it had never known war, at least not in any of the histories she and the many generations before hers were taught. Theirs was a home of harmony, a place fiercely proud of the enlightenment gained from education, not from battle.

    Because of this mindset, more than a fair share of her comrades took their positions less seriously than Vale would – they were physically trained and mentally prepared, but there never was any use for their skills beyond quashing a drunken skirmish and policing the city streets. It was just how it was and had always been, but regardless, she did not walk her path lightly. Every achievement was savored, each new level reached always pushed her to reach higher.

    Approximately 5 years prior to this present moment, Vale was as content as she had ever been in life - honored with being given the rank of Captain at such a young age, earning the praise of her family, and finding the love of her life; A person she could be herself with and tell anything to, knowing they wouldn’t judge nor think her foolish. Someone who you would trust with your deepest, darkest secret.

    After a whirlwind courtship, Zinara, a woman Vale initially met during her time in the Academy, became her wife as well as the first person to learn about what she had kept hidden for many years. Moving objects without touching them, thinking in anger and breaking a glass across the room, eventually manipulating someone’s thoughts to make them susceptible to her own suggestions - Vale had kept these abilities to herself her entire life until Zinara became a part of it. It was a burden lifted, but remained an increasingly difficult truth she struggled with.

    This was when The Protectors began to change everything.

    It was common knowledge there was a small sect of the ancient Order remaining not that far north of the city, though they were considered less revered scholars and more religious fanatics to the present-day world. Their origin and purpose had been downgraded to jokes and children’s stories, though it was not unheard of to hear them brought up in a philosophical conversation regarding myths and legends and an analyzation of the elusive Force. Zinara grew up on their actual history, her parents being priests that acknowledged The Protectors as keepers of a power that was nearly lost to the centuries. So, at her wife’s urging, Vale sought to study them in hopes of somehow learning more about this side of herself she had always kept buried. Finding that there was not much to be found in text and decaying holos, even from the accounts of those that believed, she boldly paid a visit to their tower fortress herself.

    A door was opened for her on that day that, while it could never be closed, she would eventually come to regret walking through.

    The Master, her teacher and guide, showed her things she had never dreamed of knowing. In turn, she learned so much more about herself than she could have thought possible. It was intoxicating, this thirst for the unknown and the desire to understand. Vale found solace with The Protectors, building connections with the other students in a way those outside would never truly comprehend. Including those closest to them.

    After several years immersing herself in her new studies, things began to unravel. Her duty as a military officer had become secondary to being a Protector and did not go unnoticed. Her home was neglected and she spent more and more time away from her wife, who was growing restless and paranoid. A fear Zinara had not dared give ground to by saying aloud was all of a sudden very real – that Vale would feel held back with her, that the love they had would be abandoned for something greater than what she could provide. The relationship frayed and fractured, growing so tense to the point that a choice had to be made, one that was given as an ultimatum.

    “What is more important to you, Vale? Me, or them?”

    A family and a home, or The Protectors.

    She wanted it all, but looking at the pain she was inadvertently causing the woman she cared so deeply for, in that singular moment, it was easy.

    She chose love. Despite how engrained and passionate she had become in the Force, Vale chose to walk away.

    That was just over one year prior to the here and now and yes, as we had begun, Vale is currently living a life of her own choice and making. However, some choices can’t make you whole and instead leave you feeling wanting. They may seem right but also feel wrong. They may be easy because you want to avoid the hardship.

    This would explain why Vale has managed to rearrange meetings and assignments to the north side of the capital as often as possible, why she frequently lingers close to the Protector grounds when time allows, and why she is planning a visit at this very moment. She doesn’t know how it will work or what will even happen, but there has been an undeniable pull back to that place ever since she left and an unshakeable sensation that her life was meaningless without it.

    She could not keep herself at bay any longer, and so she had to see. Vale had to go back.

    Additional Images:
    Zinara:
    [​IMG]


    Home, beyond the falls:
    [​IMG]


    The ring:
    [​IMG]
     
    Last edited: Apr 27, 2019
  7. Sinrebirth

    Sinrebirth Mod-Emperor of the EUC, Lit, RPF and SWC star 10 Staff Member Manager

    Registered:
    Nov 15, 2004
    Prologue

    Lesson One

    IC: The Master

    The Clock-Temple

    The Master, cowled, black robed, sat in his old wooden chair, its back to his desk, looking at them with his fingers threaded, his elbows propped up on the arms. His expression was concealed by the shadows of his cowl, but he appeared curious, coolly and calmly examining the five of them.

    Some of them had moved into the clock-Temple. Some had attended meetings regularly. One had been a stray, and this was the first meeting that they had attended in a while. He gave them a wink, but of course it was carried through the Force and not through his expression; his shadowed cowl concealed all. He had drawn them closer, nudging and tugging, but never forcing, simply appealing to them, and waiting for them to acknowledge themselves. One of them he had needed to wait until she was ready to come back.

    To reach this area they would have had to have passed the lower part of the room, which included a decent sized table and array of four chairs; the Master had often mentioned that he needed more chairs, and had them levitate his wooden chair down the stairs to the table - he had always stood as he spoke.

    He did not stand until they had all gathered before him. The upper area had plenty of room; some of them had even sparred within it. But once they were, he leapt from the seat, clapping his hands.

    “Okay!” His presence in the Force shone, briefly apparent to them. “We are on our next big three or four lessons. Sounds good?”

    He did not let them response; he often monologued. “Good!”

    He seemed to be enjoying himself, and he turned to the desk, before swiftly spinning back around, flinging his hand out and around. From the arc of his hand came five hilts, which rushed to their respective owners.

    [​IMG]

    “It is time to imprint upon your own Forcesabers.” He had shown them his weapon before, and had let each of them wield his black bladed weapon, and these nondescript, silver and gold, cylinders matched that hilt. “Whilst the design is the same, I will leave instructions on how to reassemble and assemble these. There will be a knack to it, so I will not be leaving instructions on how to make your own at present. That might be messy, if someone gets carried away.”

    He eyed none of them in particular as he said that.

    “So. The crystal is blank, a clean slate. Much like you were when you came to me. Well, at least in terms of the Force.” He shrugged. “Before you joined the Protectors you had each experienced life without the Force, and it has shaped you, but so too has opening you to the Force and to the Light.”

    “So, I would like you to study your crystals, and, here and now, bridge the divide between you and the crystals within. Whilst I appreciate some of you would like to prepare for today, that would have enabled you the opportunity to apply your thought processes to the task, and you likely would have created a nice and reasoned blade, but it would not have reflected you.” He swayed his head from side to side as he spoke, and then shrugged again.

    “You need to embrace the emotion that brought you here - your curiosity, your hunger, your fear, your heart, your soul.” He tried to appeal to them each, to them in this moment. He respected them, was scared for them, was in love with them, to varying degrees.

    “In your own time, my apprentices.”

    He turned and leaned on the wooden workbench, nonchalantly casting an eye among them. His hands gestured at them, a ‘get on with it’ expression. And then he folded his arms over his chest and waited.

    TAG: @HanSolo29, @Kev-Mas_Colcha, @Mitth-Fisto, @QueenSabe7, @Jerjerrod-Lennox


    Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk
     
  8. QueenSabe7

    QueenSabe7 Chosen One star 6

    Registered:
    Mar 23, 2001
    IC: Vale Sera
    Clock-Temple, Nouane
    Lesson One

    Vale was agitated, but also full of guilt. The two dominating emotions were at war within her, each struggling to take control of the other and overrun the rest. And then there was a third – excitement. This one had been submissive during the battle between the others, kept beaten down as some sort of penance for going where she was going, being where she was. Though it wouldn’t stay that way. It was quiet, yes, but only because it was waiting for the right moment to shine through to the top.

    Now standing just inside, her grey-blue eyes softened as they swept over the lower space of the Clock-Temple, a place she had become intimately familiar with before… no, nevermind. A place she had loved so dearly once, and being back here for the first time in over a year, she was incredibly pleased to discover that affection was still very much alive. A warmth spread out from her chest to calm her other parts, and it was suddenly as if no time had passed at all.

    That excitement? It won.

    A smile spread over her lips and she inhaled deeply, closing her eyes for a moment to savor the familiar scents seeping into her body and mind. The various odors stirred her memories; happy ones, challenging ones, unforgettable ones… they were all there so vividly, which did not surprise her. Vale had clung to this past and relived it often, over and over as her time away had grown longer. She supposed now it had been what kept her sane while she had been gone, but also what had helped drive her back here, what had made her feel like she had never left.

    Some noise from above – both heard and felt - broke her reverie, and her enthusiasm continued to flourish as she looked up knowingly. Her grin stayed put and she began to walk forward, brushing her fingers over the large gathering table at the center of the room as she passed by. She could still sense her strong connections to this place and at her touch, she reached for them for comfort. It was like coming home, as it had been her home of a sort, a home away from the other home. Again, nevermind. A small shake of her head and, as she had countless times before, she made her way to the upper level.

    At the top of her climb, Vale paused again as she had below, her heart swelling at seeing more of what she had thought she might have lost. Regardless of the other students that may have been there for the same reason as she, whether they were new to her or otherwise, her gaze found the one most important to her first. She had expected to hone in on him, as it was impossible to have sensed anyone else before The Master.

    Her breath caught, and for a brief spell she was nearly overcome with emotion.

    Gratitude, purpose, and pride hit her all at once in a wave, tears threatening to break free of her eyes to tumble down her cheeks. Vale swallowed, quickly choking back such a public display that she did not wish any of the others to see. He was the only one that knew her story and reasons and for now, that was exactly how she preferred it to stay.

    That was the way it had to stay. Today was for her. Consequences that may arise from her selfishness would be dealt with later because fear, a constant, would not be given so much notice to become a distraction. She would not allow it.

    Removing her eyes from her teacher as to not appear as if she were gawking, the young woman made her way to a vacant chair near the middle of those assembled. She was still dressed in full military uniform, though she slowly removed her outer jacket and thigh-holster containing a small blaster before taking a seat. She laid both upon her lap, clasping her hands over top as she waited…

    Something small nudged at the back of her mind then, a soft reassurance to which she was grateful for, and then the Master abruptly stood. Vale straightened, eager and ready to begin.

    “Okay! We are on our next big three or four lessons. Sounds good?”

    She chuckled softly to herself, enjoying his enthusiasm as ever. With a practiced hand, she snatched the Forcesaber hilt that shot towards her from the air with ease and immediately set upon examining it. Curious that it was nearly identical to that of the Master’s, from what she remembered anyways. Grasping it tightly in her left hand as if to test it out, her fingers instinctually wrapped around the silver cylinder in the proper grip she had been taught in another lesson.

    Old hat, she mused, raising a brow as she continued to listen.

    “So, I would like you to study your crystals,” her mentor instructed and she brought her eyes back to his. “You need to embrace the emotion that brought you here - your curiosity, your hunger, your fear, your heart, your soul.”

    Vale chewed on this idea, of all that had brought her back to this present moment. While she remained predominately glad to be back, at least… back for this lesson, and would not give way to her more negative emotions, they could not go unacknowledged. That would be lying, denying the truth of the matter. And the truth was, it was complicated.

    She stood, placing her possessions on her chair and nodded once to the Master before removing herself from the small circle. She walked a small distance away in order to think, pacing lightly with measured, deliberate steps, her back to the others. Turning the weapon over in her palms in a repeated pattern, she dissected what was being asked of her, this task…

    I was lost without them, she started, her words loud and certain within her thoughts. And I was lost without you… but to stay away, I became lost again not only to myself, but when I was with you as well.

    Closing her eyes, Vale stilled, pulling on the calming threads of light in the Force as she navigated the troubled waters of her life. As she had vowed before, she did not become emotionally overrun, but instead studied herself in a clinical way – separating her feelings from logic.

    I need both, I need you both to be complete… Selfishly… Impossibly, perhaps…

    Raising one hand to her chest, Vale pressed it over her heart, sensing her pulse quicken marginally.

    I can’t let go.

    There it was, the basis for it all. She could not let go of what the Master and the Protectors had given her, and what they still could. But the other side of her, her personal side – her love -, she could not let go of either, of all it had given her and what it still could. The two were like opposing magnets, always pushing away from one another and never coming together. She was in the middle, reaching for both with only half of herself, not all.

    Would it come back down to the choice she had made a year ago? Because if she was asked to make it again, that fear that was ever-present? It was what made her realize that she might not have the same answer this time.

    And then, what did she stand to lose? One half of all she held dear, which she had lost before and it had been a terrible experience. Now, this other half, it was all contained within a single being. Just one. Her heart, her love and her partner - her wife.

    Her hand pressed harder on her skin as she pulled deeper on the Force to keep her steady. Her other arm other was down at her side, the elbow bent so that her hand was out before her at waist height, the saber hilt resting on her open palm.

    I can’t let go, she repeated. I don’t want to let go…

    I need you both…

    TAG: @Sinrebirth & all
     
    Last edited: May 5, 2019
  9. AgentViper007

    AgentViper007 Force Ghost star 7

    Registered:
    Mar 9, 2005
    IC: Vydra Delomeux
    Location: The Clock Temple, Nouane


    It was strange to think he had finally arrived at this point.

    But here it was.

    He had been living permanently at the temple in order to hone his skills. Compared to the rest he was a relative novice, which was the reason why he had decided to stay at the temple on a more permanent basis. He had to hone his skills and under The Master’s tutelage he was sure to improve.

    He had had no contact with his family since he had decided to essentially become a monk, well sort of a monk. The only reminder he had was the photo he always kept beside his bed, reminding him of whom he was essentially protecting. He was destined just to be a librarian but the Master and the Protectors had given him a different future, something he could aspire to be.

    He was settled in his room reading his favourite book from his family's library when he was summoned.

    He was dressed in his usual attire of a white shirt, grey waistcoat, black trousers with a gold stripe at the side and black boots. It was simple enough and was always good use in combat situations where could move freely without a cape or robe to get in the way.

    Seeing the others including one person whom he was happy to see made him realize how far he had come, how far they had all come. All those days spent in the library, all those days wondering whether he had a talent for finding books or whether it was just the will of the Force and now the day had come where the hard work he had put in would come to fruition.

    The blonde haired blue eyed Vydra always made sure he looked presentable when in front if his Master. He used to dress more flamboyant back home but here he had learnt to dress more simply.

    He made his way into the lower room and took a seat. The Master had a rather...quirky way of doing his lessons and meetings but it was a style which Vaydra liked. He hated boring.

    Okay!” His presence in the Force shone, briefly apparent to them. “We are on our next big three or four lessons. Sounds good?”

    He did not let them response; he often monologued. “Good!”


    A silver and gold hilted cylinder flew towards him which he caught, he had of course trained with the Masters weapon during training and he was ecstatic now to finally be getting his own. It meant that he was moving on from being a novice.

    “It is time to imprint upon your own Forcesabers.” he said “Whilst the design is the same, I will leave instructions on how to reassemble and assemble these. There will be a knack to it, so I will not be leaving instructions on how to make your own at present. That might be messy, if someone gets carried away.”

    That would probably be me…

    The Master continued. Put simply he had to use his newfound talents with the Force to activate his saber, to funnel his emotions into it and hope that it would work. It would be embarrassing if he was the only one that could not activate it because his emotions were going around like a spin dryer.

    Can’t dwell on that now.

    He rose from the table and ,oved to a corner far away from the others. He balanced the hilt in his right hand, making sure the emitter was facing away from him and his fingers. He closed his eyes and began to submerge himself in the currents of the Force.

    His family was his main love of his life as well as his books. They were disappointed in him not taking over the library like he was supposed to which frustrated him however but he forgave them and the love for them he poured into the Force trying to tamp out the frustration.

    His love for books was the other love for him, the knowledge the things they revealed, images of the galaxy at large, images of lush worlds, traveling the spacelanes, the mysteries of the Force and the tales of the Protectors themselves, what they did and what they protected. He poured that in too.

    There was a slight hint of fear coming in. Fear that he was not going to be good enough, fear that he was going to be left behind while everyone else succeeded. He tried to not pour that in but it was difficult to contain. He tried to remember his teachings that basically fear was bad.

    There was hunger for more knowledge but again that was bad. Knowledge had to come slowly here, he was used to getting the knowledge he need just by pulling a book off a shelf to satisfy his appetite for knowledge. However he did pour in the knowledge he had learnt so far and his patience to learn more.

    But overall he poured in his desire to protect Nouane, his family and the galaxy from any threat that came their way to protect those he loved, his Master and the others.

    He opened his blue eyes and focused on the saber with one though….

    To Protect and to Serve.

    TAG: @Sinrebirth , All
     
  10. Kev-Mas_Colcha

    Kev-Mas_Colcha Force Ghost star 5

    Registered:
    Dec 15, 2002
    IC: Zas'tel
    Clock Temple, Nouane

    As typical of him, Zas'tel sat in a dark corner of the room observing everything under the cover of darkness. He had made it a habit not to be seen unless absolutely necessary, the training he's had at the temple further honing his ability to do so. Aside from the Master, nobody truly knew whether he was a permanent resident or not. The truth was that he was a permanent resident that he managed to escape the notice of all but those who possessed the talent to detect his presence in the Force - the one individual that had that talent being the Master, who respected his privacy and did not reveal the details of his daily life to anyone unless absolutely necessary. So far such revelations were unnecessary, so the finer details about his life were left unsaid and many residents at the temple didn't even know he existed.

    "Okay!" said the Master, as Zas'tel winced at his presence in the Force shining outwards briefly, as if it were a bright light flashed in his eyes, "We are on our next big three or four lessons. Sounds good?"

    Zas'tel didn't reply, as he saw no need to and it was all the better because the Master was monologuing anyways.

    "Good!"

    Zas'tel gave out a plaintive look in response to the Master's cheery attitude, who then suddenly spun around and revealed five hilts, each intended for the students in the room, including Zas'tel. Zas'tel was the third to receive his.

    The hilt looked a bit gaudy for his tastes, despite being otherwise nondescript. He recognized the hilt as being an exact replica of the Master's own Forcesaber, and Zas'tel grimaced at the fact that he hadn't bothered to change things up for these ones.

    I'd much like to change the color of this thing, he thought to himself, Something easier to conceal would be better.

    "It is time to imprint upon your own Forcesabers," the Master continued, "Whilst the design is the same, I will leave instructions on how to reassemble and assemble these. There will be a knack to it, so I will not be leaving instructions on how to make your own at present. That might be messy, if someone gets carried away."

    Zas'tel frowned. It seemed like while he did trust them enough to possess their own Forcesabers, he didn't trust them enough to break with conformity and create their own. No matter, he'll just take it one step at a time.

    "So. The crystal is blank, a clean slate. Much like you were when you came to me. Well, at least in terms of the Force," the Master shrugged, "Before you joined the Protectors you had each experienced life without the Force, and it has shaped you, but so too has opening you to the Force and to the Light."

    Zas'tel grimaced again. He much didn't like referring to the powers he had perfected to help hide himself better as "the Light". He didn't like light. It hurt his eyes and made him easier to see. He much preferred to simply call it "powers".

    "So, I would like you to study your crystals, and, here and now, bridge the divide between you and the crystals within. Whilst I appreciate some of you would like to prepare for today, that would have enabled you the opportunity to apply your thought processes to the task, and you likely would have created a nice and reasoned blade, but it would not have reflected you." the Master continued, swaying his head from side to side as he spoke and then shrugged again.

    Zas'tel shrugged. He didn't really have any idea how he would have prepared for today anyways, so it made no difference to him at all. He was just playing it by ear.

    "You need to embrace the emotion that brought you here - your curiosity, your hunger, your fear, your heart your soul."

    Zas'tel thought for a moment, remaining deep in thought as the Master said his last words and gestured them all to "get on with it", already having done so, deep in concentration, trying to think of which emotion brought him here.

    The best way to describe his emotional state at such time was well.... he was very aloof. He felt isolated from the rest of galactic society for most of his life, and he used the very talents that caused such isolation to give him comfort. The Master took him in regardless of that, seeing him when nobody else could. It alarmed and startled him when he saw through his invisibility and it still does to this day. Instead of ignoring him and passing him by, the Master embraced him for who he was, and told him he was special. He never really felt that way about himself, but then again it just came with the territory of being all but a shadow in a galaxy full of individuals who cast shadows instead of resembling them. At the temple Zas'tel didn't feel so alone, and he guessed that's why he remained here.

    So, with that in mind, he got to work, examining the directions and following them along as he disassembled the hilt he was given, so he could get to the crystal and in a way, "channel" what he was feeling into it. He didn't quite understand the meaning of what he was told to do, but he trusted the Master, and followed along nonetheless.

    Tag: @Sinrebirth , all
     
    Last edited: May 5, 2019
  11. Mitth_Fisto

    Mitth_Fisto Chosen One star 6

    Registered:
    Sep 29, 2005
    IC: Dunkeel
    Clock-Temple

    Coming back to the Temple had been a bit of white lie. He had to cancel and reschedule a couple jobs when he felt the pull, but he had learned to follow, to accept it when it came. Like a gut instinct that led him back. These draws, these simple feelings, they had become a base guidance since he came to live at the Temple years ago. Over time they had become more and more second nature to suddenly follow a gut feeling and change his schedule or not do something when he thought he should for an odd undefinable notion and feeling.

    Once there, it had been a spectacle, a wondrous and dancing edge that he had observed. That of The Master sitting there. The fact that he was facing them was not lost on him, in the past he had come in and had an entire lesson at the man's backside. At least what he had considered a lesson anyway. Now they sat there, wondrously many of them gathered, the lost and common, watching and waiting.

    "Okay!" said the Master, Dunkeel nostrils flared at his presence in the Force pushing outwards briefly, forcefully, as if it were a strong odor of power, "We are on our next big three or four lessons. Sounds good?"

    Dunkeel replied with a silent and subtle dip and wag of his head, accepting and focusing his eyes in, honing his focus on the target that required full attention. Full awareness. Listening. Watching.

    "Good!"

    That focus was rewarded as he looked and watched and saw and knew the moving forms that were revealed in The Master's sudden spin around and revealed five hilts, each intended for the students in the room. Dunkeel was the fourth to receive his, right after the shadow in the corner of the room. So he was here. A wry opening of his mouth at that. At first he had known when that creature had come here, was here, but the scent had become so layered and spread around that it was hard to tell if he was here or not unless he was close enough to note the uptick in odor. His own room he kept clear in the Clock-Tower of that things scent, clean of all scents but his own and the vinegar disinfectant, not that he didn't trust the Shadow student. . . but he didn't trust its kind. Too close to the egg thieves that kind.

    The hilt looked a bit fancy for his tastes, despite the simplicity of it at face value. He recognized the hilt as being an exact replica of The Master's own Forcesaber, and Dunkeel eyed the thing with curiosity. He could see the others taking their gifts in hand and he in turn, on impulse, took the thing with his mouth. Teeth fitting gently behind the emitter that faced outward, tongue curling around the hilt. Marking it, tasting it, accepting it.

    "It is time to imprint upon your own Forcesabers," the Master continued, "Whilst the design is the same, I will leave instructions on how to reassemble and assemble these. There will be a knack to it, so I will not be leaving instructions on how to make your own at present. That might be messy, if someone gets carried away."

    Dunkeel shrugged at that, when he had created and shown his redesign for his bedroom door some things had been deemed to extreme for a Temple setting. Same as that he'll just take it one step at a time, one layer of advice at a time.

    "So. The crystal is blank, a clean slate. Much like you were when you came to me. Well, at least in terms of the Force," The Master shrugged, "Before you joined the Protectors you had each experienced life without the Force, and it has shaped you, but so too has opening you to the Force and to the Light."

    "So, I would like you to study your crystals, and, here and now, bridge the divide between you and the crystals within. Whilst I appreciate some of you would like to prepare for today, that would have enabled you the opportunity to apply your thought processes to the task, and you likely would have created a nice and reasoned blade, but it would not have reflected you." The Master continued, swaying his head from side to side as he spoke and then shrugged again. "You need to embrace the emotion that brought you here - your curiosity, your hunger, your fear, your heart your soul."

    The Master's swaying head was a tempo of focus that Dunkeel had unconsciously matched the tempo of. A sign of respect and bonding and trust. Some considered those thing the same thing, but he knew better. Just as he knew what brought him here was fear, what kept him was fear and an intense feeling of safety and warmth. Reaching to the crystal he did as told. Let the crystal be the lens of the weapons energy, and so he was a lens to the Crystal of the Force that was life's energy.

    When he was found he was living on the streets, living by his communicator and an add on the local infoweb for a handy man. He had had enough credits to rent a place, possibly co-rent, but he had never felt safe. Never safe enough to keep a place and live with others constantly without them finding him out. Of being noted, of being killed and eaten for his deformation of actions. Then he had accepted a job and then The Master had stopped, waiting to leave an establishment as he fixed the door, not rushing him, just observing. Asking him to follow, and from that day he had never been the same.

    Fear had lessened into safety and belonging, outcast had become home. All of this still existed, and he did not care. He had perhaps traded specism for tribalism and religion. One did not stop nor prevent the other, but in steady fashion like the moons one chased the others away. Fear gave way to, fear gave way to home, gave way to love. He did not weigh, he did not measure. He merely let it be and poured all of it into this lens of his weapon, for which he was the lens, of whom was cast into the lens of the Force. This was his nest, these were his brood.

    A clacking high pitched chirping yawn escaped his mouth as his eyes became hooded and low, nostrils flared, and his head stilled from its swaying motion.

    He was home, in the nest.

    TAG: @Sinrebirth , Others
     
  12. HanSolo29

    HanSolo29 RPF/SWC/Fan Art Manager & Bill Pullman Connoisseur star 7 Staff Member Manager

    Registered:
    Apr 13, 2001
    IC: Dr. Joren Graal
    The Clock Temple, Nouane

    The interior of the Clock Temple was not all that dissimilar from the other divine sanctuaries Joren had explored and documented in his journeys across Nouane’s diverse landscape over the years. He recognized that it was a place of worship first and foremost, an ancient edifice that provided spiritual enlightenment to those willing to seek such guidance. But more than that, it was a work of art – with its high-vaulted ceilings, archaic stonework, and white marbled columns, it was truly a sight to behold. Joren could appreciate it simply for its natural beauty and considered himself fortunate to have a chance to visit the site regularly.

    And while its sacred halls have become almost as familiar to him as his own classroom at the university, he knew that it still held a far deeper meaning. It was one of the mind, the soul…

    The call of the Force.

    It bathed these chambers in an ethereal light and touched on every facet of his being with a gentle caress, heightening his perception and providing a sense of calm...of belonging. When he had first stepped upon this threshold nearly a year ago with his film crew to run a segment on the Protectors for Divine Encounters, everything had felt so uncertain. One random circumstance had led him to the Master, and another had seemingly wrenched that opportunity away from him when an internal dispute between his university and the network had sidelined his film shoot.

    But he realized now that nothing was random.

    That intense longing and the boundless curiosity he had felt upon discovering the Protectors, the desire to acquire as much knowledge as he could in order to satisfy some desperate need to identify certain aspects about his true self...it was all part of a grander plan. Nothing was random. It had been the Force all along, whispering intimately into his ear and leading him down this chosen path. It was the catalyst that had urged him to stay and learn from the Master even after production on his show had suffered a delay.

    It was also the source of so much conflict within himself – his need to rationalize every nuance of the Force and apply it to a more practical and forward-thinking society.

    Most other religions he had studied had an underlying principle that connected them to the human condition and grounded them in the real world. Not so with the Force. It remained elusive and very difficult to pinpoint, and he often wondered if he would ever find a definitive answer.

    And then there was his wife. Poor Tera did not fully grasp the intricacies of the Force or why he was so fascinated by it. In fact, she probably considered it an obsession and just another extension of his work. But despite these reservations, she still allowed him these weekend excursions to the Temple out of a mutual respect for each other. That was what true love was all about; he hoped that one day she would be able to experience the Protectors for herself and fully solidify that bond they shared.

    All of these emotions now ebbed and flowed about his presence with the onset of the Master’s lesson, his hands clenched tightly around the hilt of his newly gifted Forcesaber. Joren understood what he must do, and so he clamped down on his warring thoughts and minimized himself in the Force to obtain absolute focus. Even his fellow students shrank and slowly slipped away on these living currents, becoming smaller and smaller until it was only him, the Force, and the task at hand.

    The Master had emphasized the importance of the crystal within the hilt and the special link that bound the user to his weapon. In order to forge this connection, he had to traverse the divide that separated them and close the gap by ‘funneling’ the emotions he had felt upon arriving here into the crystal itself – the same emotions that now flowed freely through his mind. It was unlike anything he had attempted before under the Master’s tutelage, but Joren was not one to admit defeat.

    Plus, there was the matter of trust; he had complete faith in the Master and of his methods, strange quirks and all.

    Lowering himself to his knees and closing his eyes in an almost meditative stance, Joren inhaled deeply and began the arduous process of channeling his feelings and carving his own unique imprint into the very heart of this elegant baton.

    Breathe.

    Just breathe.

    TAG: @Sinrebirth; Others
     
  13. Sinrebirth

    Sinrebirth Mod-Emperor of the EUC, Lit, RPF and SWC star 10 Staff Member Manager

    Registered:
    Nov 15, 2004
    Prologue

    Lesson Two


    IC: The Master
    The Clock-Temple

    The moment came. The Force breathed in, deeply, and in short order, a series of events occurs. Their blades responded.

    Vale was first, and the Master felt for her. He truly did. She was going through a great deal, and it showed in herself. She was seeking balance, when she would need to lose a lot more yet to be balanced. Her Forcesaber crackled, and a blade of purple burst free. A life balanced between the light and the dark, the Master noted.

    Vydra's Forcesaber burst the colour that would be associated with the Jedi Consular, in the future; green. A librarian, through and through. Defence, not attack. The fears that had grasped the man did not affect his heart. That was pleasing.

    The Master peered at Zas'tel, curious to see if the crystal would yield to his colour. It was attuning to the one who forever hid, and though the Master had been tempted to install lighting which revealed him, Zas'tel needed his space, to be isolated, to be himself, and being that, and unfeared while doing so, is all that the Master required. The Forcesaber crackled, and a black blade emerged.

    Next came reptilian Dunkeel, who was far more genial than his appearance suggested. At least he was not topless today. That was oddly distracting. The Chistori resonated with his thought process, no, with how he felt. The Master felt the warmth of a nest, the utter acceptance of all matters. The Master found Dunkeel's role surprisingly touching. He was very much at home. The blade appeared, and the Master felt genuine curiosity for what was to occur. The weapon shone with white. A calm and clear blade.

    Last was Joren Graal. As was often the case, the Doctor was more heavily entrenched in the real world than anyone. By real, the Master meant the tide of being a 'Net star, having televised his research and so forth. His being here at all was a confluence of events, and the Master had very little to do with it. There was a hand moving there, and the Master was happy to accept. Joren, of course, was trying to do everything. That included being a true believer, to the edge of fanaticism. The Master knew he would take the lead as necessary, and he appreciated that. A snap-hiss, and blue blade emerged.

    The Master nodded absently to his students, allowing them to marvel, or lament, their various blade colours. It was pleasing to see them do so. He lightly applauded them, exaggeratedly, and then gestured at them with both hands to come forward.

    “We are after all, Protectors. We often debate of what. Today, I shall, finally let you know.”

    He moved to his desk, almost a workshop, in many ways, what with the various crystals, tools and so forth upon it. He checked that they were all watching and then revealed what lay under the cloth with a degree of flare. It was a small cube, glowing faintly blue.

    “Ta da!” He said, dramatically.

    Before they could express confusion, he waved its hand, and a miniature version of himself appeared. “It’s called a Holocron. You’ll each get one, each in a different shape, for various, unimportant geometric reasons.”

    “The data contains...” he paused, fluttering his gloved hand fingers, cycling through images. Mainly faces were shown, but there were a few scenes; moments; battles; duels; arguments; mourning.

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    “Well, it contains the Knowledge I spoke of.” He looked back at them, his cowl concealing all. “Of what that we are the Protectors of.”

    “The Light of the future.”

    He expected that this would cause at least two of them to become giddy with the possibility. One of them might be crushed by the responsibility. Two, he did not know, and the Master attributed that to a flaw in him - to his failure to completely reach the divide between them.

    TAG: @HanSolo29, @Mitth_Fisto, @QueenSabe7, @Jerjerrod-Lennox, @Kev-Mas_Colcha
     
    Last edited: May 9, 2019
  14. AgentViper007

    AgentViper007 Force Ghost star 7

    Registered:
    Mar 9, 2005
    IC: Vydra Delomeux
    Location: The Clock Temple, Nouane


    Vydra could not help but smile as he blade shot forth from the hilt.

    It seemed all his hard work, and the fears which he had poured in as well as all of his emotions had not affected the blade springing forth. Which was reassuring as he had worried that he would make a total idiot of himself in front of the others.

    The green blade was beautiful to behold, a colour that seemed fitting to him. The Force beforehand seemed to take a deep breath as if deciding what to do, which colour it would grant him and whether the blade would materialize at all, deciding if he was worthy of becoming a part of the new generation of Protectors.

    It also seemed to be giving him a message of sorts, of what sort of Protector he could be if he wanted to.

    To defend, not attack.

    To mediate, not confront.

    But it didn't mean that he could not still become a formidable warrior or to use his talents and knowledge to good use. Well Vydra hoped so anyway.

    Moving on….

    The Master beckoned with both hands to them all bringing them forward to a table that was filled with bits and pieces, Vydra knew that the Master must have all of this stuff for a reason.

    “We are after all, Protectors. We often debate of what. Today, I shall, finally let you know.”

    And with a flourish the Master revealed what was underneath the cloth, a cube that was glowing blue. This immediately drew Vydra’s attention as he had never seen one of these before and it was intriguing him, ever eager for more knowledge. It was also a little confusing as to what the Master was up to.

    A miniature version of the Master appeared. “It’s called a Holocron. You’ll each get one, each in a different shape, for various, unimportant geometric reasons.”

    “The data contains...” he paused, fluttering his gloved hand fingers, cycling through images. Mainly faces were shown, but there were a few scenes; moments; battles; duels; arguments; mourning.

    Vydra could sens through those images feelings and thoughts as they cycled through. People who were darkness incarnate, moments in history that involved light fighting against the darkness. Grief, fear, resolve, people fighting for their lives. It was concerning to Vydra that this all could happen at some point, where did he fit in to all of this?

    The Master answered it for him.

    “Well, it contains the Knowledge I spoke of.” He looked back at them, his cowl concealing all. “Of what that we are the Protectors of.”

    “The Light of the future.”


    And there it is.

    So were they trying to prevent this all from happening? Were these images part of a future that they were trying to prevent or protect? To become beacons of light in a galaxy full of darkness?

    It was crushing him with emotions, fear that he wasn't ready for this, dread that he might not be good enough to stop the darkness, that he could fail them all.

    Knock it off! He told himself. This was emotions that would lead him to the dark.

    To Vydra, a relative novice, it was responsibility he was not yet prepared for, well not yet anyway. He felt though that with patience and time he could be ready and with the Master teaching him anything was possible.

    If he had the time to of course.

    The Force though worked in mysterious ways, perhaps it still had some surprises for him yet. He didn't know how the others would take this responsibility either, he hoped they would take it better than him.

    But there was resolve in Vydra to do what he could despite his misgivings and the crushing responsibility.

    He had to be ready.

    He WOULD be.

    TAG: @Sinrebirth , All
     
  15. Kev-Mas_Colcha

    Kev-Mas_Colcha Force Ghost star 5

    Registered:
    Dec 15, 2002
    IC: Zas'tel
    Clock-Temple, Nouane

    "Good," thought Zas'tel as his blade shot forth, as black as his own shadowy visage, "Suits me perfectly. But it seems all too easy. Like I was being helped..."

    For Zas'tel, paranoia and fear were a common foe. For Defel with trust issues that lives in isolation, invisible to most others, Zas'tel had few friends and few enemies. While neither his few friends or few foes were much of a boon nor a threat, simply because nobody knew much about him, both his greatest enemy and his greatest friend was himself.

    Zas'tel dwelled for a moment, losing control of his mind and allowing it to bring him to dark places, darker than his shadowy image. His image that he hid behind. That he relied upon. He had been shrouded in the darkness for so long that he never even thought about what it would be like to be seen anymore. He used to desire it but he grew content with the way things were. The darkness was comforting. He was made for it. He was born in it. He was shaped by it.

    But the darkness is also very lonely. Zas'tel trusted few and befriended even fewer simply because people fear what they cannot see. To everyone he was a phantom. A lingering darkness lurking in the shadows, waiting for his next victim. They didn't understand that Zas'tel didn't victimize people, but rather that he only wished to be given his space. Thus, Zas'tel became hardened by these misunderstandings, reluctant to trust others out of fear that their own fear would breed ignorance.

    So even with those he was closest to (if you would really call it that, Zas'tel wasn't close to anyone, though with The Master, he at least granted him the right to speak with him, which was far closer than he was with anyone else), there were occasional moments where the slightest things would lead his mind astray, and he'd recoil into the darkness until the slightest glimmer of light pulled him out.

    This time, that glimmer of light was the Master's applause, his hands lightly clapping together like a ray of sunshine peeking in through the window of a dark room as the stellar body became visible; planetary orbit tilting enough to place it above the horizon. He then lead the group into a small room, and Zas'tel followed along.

    “We are after all, Protectors," the Master began, "We often debate of what. Today, I shall, finally let you know.”

    He moved over to his desk, which had various crystals, tools and other curiosities and trinkets scattered upon it. He eyed the group to make sure their attention was upon him and revealed a small cube that was hidden under a cloth, lifting it up with a grandiose gesture. The cube had a faint blue glow about it, and it gave off an otherworldly and arcane aura.

    “Ta da!” he announced with a tone of voice as enthusiastic as his body language.

    Before Zas'tel could even figure out what was going on, the Master waved his hand over the cube, and a miniature version of himself appeared. “It’s called a Holocron. You’ll each get one, each in a different shape, for various, unimportant geometric reasons.”

    “The data contains...” he paused, gliding his gloved hand fingers, cycling through images. Mainly faces were shown, but there were a few scenes; moments; battles; duels; arguments; mourning.

    This was all so much for Zas'tel to process. He had never seen anything like this, but he supposed there would be an explanation soon to come. So he waited.

    “Well, it contains the Knowledge I spoke of.” He looked back at them, his cowl concealing all. “Of what that we are the Protectors of.”

    “The Light of the future.”

    There was that word again. He really wished he wouldn't use it in such an endearing manner. Light isn't something Zas'tel desired to protect. Had he not known that it was simply a figure of speech, he wouldn't even be here, and would have left long ago.

    That was besides the point though. Why were they supposed to protect these... events? Individuals? Why? Were they their future? How would the Master know about things that shouldn't have happened yet or shouldn't yet exist? Everything he knew to be true about time was that it was linear, and that events that are yet to happen and things and beings that are yet to exist could not be known by someone in the current time.

    Yet what he was saying completely went against that. Zas'tel's experience told him that he was about to learn something profound that would change his perception completely. His paranoia told him that this man had gone mad.

    Tag: @Sinrebirth , all
     
    Last edited: May 12, 2019
  16. Mitth_Fisto

    Mitth_Fisto Chosen One star 6

    Registered:
    Sep 29, 2005
    IC: Dunkeel
    The Clock-Temple


    The moment came. The Force breathed in, deeply, and in short order, a series of events occurs. Their blades responded.

    His eyes had drooped and lidded, veiled by the very nature of the moment. Content, secure. He felt the glow upon them, heard that coughing hiss of a blade, it was not his yet the light pressed in upon him. Then another glowed brightly, and then anot-. . . one seemed to add hardly nothing at all. It was curious but he focused on his own feelings, pushing them aside. The nest demanded it.

    Then he heard as well as felt, the coughing hiss was thunderously close, and the light was blinding though he was not looking, but the greatest thing of all? That was the vibration, the teeth chilling hum within his own maw that seemed to send tingles up his tongue and through his jaw. His nostrils twitched with the odd change in odors as air was kissed by blade so close. What was his blade? He wondered and yet savoured the moment a moment longer before opening his eyes. Before partaking with the last of his senses. The weapon shone with white. A calm and clear blade. One born and ready, from lens, to lens, to lens. As an aside he felt The Master's curiosity but he let it be. Let it all be as he focused down to this thing, out to the whole of it.

    Another blade sprung to life, and he did not care. He merely reached up, gingerly at first, until his claws finger pads had a good grasp of the emitter that was sticking out his mouth behind the base of the blade. Grasping firmly he pulled hard. Felt a tooth break free and a rending of his gums on the hard metal casing and a rawness to his tongue as it too was scraped down by the action of forceful removal of his tool, his weapon, his lens. Breathing deep as he looked at the weapon now glistening with drool and blood and shining in it's own metallic and bladed light he nodded. Ignoring the clapping, for he was having a moment, he brushed his snout against the hilt. "Fang." he hissed out like a soft call, a naming of a child he would be hard pressed to ever have.

    Finally looking up he noted that The Master then gestured at them with both hands to come forward. With eyes defocusing to the sides he noted the colors of the others blades. Noted the difference, and the subtlety and was pleased. Each different. Each unique.

    “We are after all, Protectors. We often debate of what. Today, I shall, finally let you know.” The Master began his next part of the multiple lesson. He moved to his desk, almost a workshop, in many ways, what with the various crystals, tools and so forth upon it. He checked that they were all watching and then revealed what lay under the cloth with a degree of flare. It was a small cube, glowing faintly blue. “Ta da!” He said, dramatically.

    Head canting in blank curiosity as The Master waved a hand and a miniature version of himself appeared. “It’s called a Holocron. You’ll each get one, each in a different shape, for various, unimportant geometric reasons.” Dunkeel scoffed softly at that as he finally deactivated his blade. He doubted very much that anything The Master did was purely unimportant reasons, geometric or otherwise.

    “The data contains...” The Master paused, fluttering his gloved hand fingers, cycling through images. Mainly faces were shown, but there were a few scenes; moments; battles; duels; arguments; mourning. So much history.
    “Well, it contains the Knowledge I spoke of.” He looked back at them, his cowl concealing all. “Of what that we are the Protectors of.”

    “The Light of the future.”

    There was a soft grumble, a growl that never was born completely at this statement. He did not like it. Yet at the same time he accepted and reveled in it. Those words had so many portents and ways to understanding that he did not even begin to try and unravel them. He merely accepted them. Like one might a cold meal that had just begun to rot a little too much. His grip on Fang increased as he waited. Listening for the explanation that he was sure was to come. Something more that was sure to be shared.

    TAG: @HanSolo29, @Sinrebirth , @QueenSabe7, @Jerjerrod-Lennox, @Kev-Mas_Colcha
     
  17. HanSolo29

    HanSolo29 RPF/SWC/Fan Art Manager & Bill Pullman Connoisseur star 7 Staff Member Manager

    Registered:
    Apr 13, 2001
    IC: Dr. Joren Graal
    The Clock Temple, Nouane

    A slight trembling coursed down the length of Joren’s arm, triggering a chill at the base of his spine and causing the hairs along that same arm to stand on end. It was an odd sensation, as if the limb itself was serving as a conduit to direct the Force into the proffered hilt. He felt stimulated…alive, and his natural reaction was to fully embrace it. Inclining his chin, he took another deep breath to channel this energy, and then...

    A distinct snap-hiss joined the chorus of others around the chamber as a blue blade materialized from the hilt’s emitter.

    Releasing the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, Joren finally opened his eyes and peered upon the spectral blade. Its brilliance seemed to represent a rite of passage, and he couldn’t have been more proud of his accomplishments. As he rose back to his feet, the Doctor angled his wrist and brought the weapon down in a slow arc as if to test its resilience.

    Blue. It was a color that represented both the sky and the sea, of open spaces, freedom, and imagination. It also held a much deeper, intrinsic meaning – depth, trust, loyalty, sincerity, wisdom, stability, intelligence, and faith. Blue was the color that communicated significance, importance, and confidence.

    The Master had emphasized the importance of the blade color and how it was intimately connected to its user, as if it reflected the individual. In this sense, Joren was extremely humbled by the results. He had worked very hard to achieve all that he had and to live a pure and fulfilling life. It was a real honor to carry the blue blade as his banner.

    He tilted the tip downward in a respectful salute as the Master applauded their efforts.

    “We are after all, Protectors,” the eccentric man continued after a moment, motioning them forward with an enthusiastic wave of both hands. “We often debate of what. Today, I shall, finally let you know.”

    Joren canted his head slightly and narrowed his eyes, his pulse quickening with the onset of anticipation. After a year of lessons and failures, of revelations and secrets...was this the moment he had been waiting for? Would the veil finally be pulled aside to reveal the truth? Would he finally find his purpose and gain a clear path to find the answers he so desperately needed – the way to knowledge and understanding?

    Could it truly be that simple?

    Extinguishing his blade, the Doctor ambled forward at the Master’s beckoning and stood silently beside the old-fashioned desk. His blue eyes swept idly over the various tools, instruments, and flimsies scattered across its surface. He had hoped to find some clue to point to what the Master was referring to, but everything seemed so inconsequential; nothing but random junk.

    That’s when the Master removed a cloth from a small object that was sitting among the clutter. Underneath rested a perfect cube, its exterior edges pulsing with an ethereal, blue light. The Master continued by waving his hands in a dramatic fashion, which prompted a miniature hologram to leap forth from the center of this cube. It was a tiny figure, its features rendered in the likeness of the Master himself. Joren couldn’t help but crack a small smile at these turn of events.

    “It’s called a Holocron,” the Master spoke again with his usual flare. “You’ll each get one, each in a different shape, for various, unimportant geometric reasons.”

    Raising a brow, Joren considered the older man for a long moment. The Master’s ambiguity could be frustrating at times, especially when it came to explaining certain aspects that Joren perceived as important. Still, he maintained his composure and respectfully nodded his head to show that he was listening and retaining all of this information.

    “The data contains...”

    Joren did not hear the rest, or perhaps the Master simply trailed off. Whatever the case, the Doctor gasped as he was suddenly bombarded by a myriad of different images that he could not immediately comprehend – what was the source and significance? He witnessed duels, battles, arguments; several different people and places, all of them accompanied by intense, raging emotions; some of them good and triumphant, while others slanted distinctly toward darkness.

    At the center of this maelstrom, the Force sang with discordance, seeming to add to the mounting chaos…

    And then it was all over.

    Breathing heavily now, Joren staggered back a few paces and simply stared at the Master; his look demanded answers.

    “Well, it contains the Knowledge I spoke of,” the older man shifted, his cowl concealing his features. “Of what that we are the Protectors of – the Light of the Future.”

    The…future?

    All at once, Joren’s expression seemed to sober. He felt a mild fluttering in the pit of his stomach, a rush of excitement that he could only describe as child-like wonder. It was the same feeling that one would experience on Life Day in anticipation of receiving and opening gifts.

    But this was on a far grander scale; the situation more critical. It was like the stuff of legends and the possibilities were endless. He became giddy simply thinking about it. So many of the ancient texts he had studied over the years referred to future posterity and safeguarding the ideals that we hold so dear in this life. They were fantastic tales that spanned both space and time to teach us about responsibility, self-worth, overcoming diversity, and other significant life lessons.

    Were they now tasked to uphold those same ideals? To perform great feats like those heroes of old?

    If so, that would mean…

    He knew it was probably against protocol to speak during the lesson, but Joren found that he couldn’t help himself. Angling his gaze at the small hologram displayed on the desktop, the words simply burst forth from his lips, “So, the Holocron allows you to see into the future, then?” He lifted his eyes to the Master, gesturing with his right hand. “To experience events before they happen? Or rather, to observe potential outcomes.”

    The Doctor scoffed lightly and slowly shook his head. “How…?”

    This could be a major breakthrough, but he still had to practice caution.

    TAG: @Sinrebirth; others
     
    Last edited: May 15, 2019
  18. QueenSabe7

    QueenSabe7 Chosen One star 6

    Registered:
    Mar 23, 2001
    IC: Vale Sera
    The Clock-Temple, Nouane
    Lesson Two

    The Force, the light, coursed through Vale like warm water – comforting waves filling her body and mind, offering a soothing calm to her inner turmoil. She listened to its gentle urgings and submitted herself wholly to them in a way she had not been able to accomplish in a long while. Meditation at home was a daily practice, but it was never anything this strong, this focused. This certain.

    It’s this place, she realized. It’s being back where I belong…

    In her outstretched hand, Vale could sense the Forcesaber hilt hone in on her emotions, as if to read her very soul. That was what the Master had asked of her after all, and again she opened herself to the invisible examination. Her eyes were still closed, her free hand still pressed against her chest and over her heart, the beats of which had returned to a steadier rate. For the moment she was pleased with herself, grateful for all that she had learned before and how she was able to utilize those skills now.

    Next, a sudden sort of inhale happened in the midst of her self-appreciation. It wasn’t something physical, but in the Force all around her - she could feel it tightening ever so slightly and then… it released.

    Vale’s eyes snapped open just as the blade shot to life before her, everything in sight covered with a bright, blinding violet hue. Her vision adjusted...

    It was purple, a darkened shade of the color but yes, her Forcesaber chose purple. Or rather, she had chosen.

    Swallowing, realizing her mouth and throat had gone dry, she straightened her arm and clenched her slightly trembling fingers over the silver cylinder. It buzzed with energy. Bringing it upright so it was parallel to her body, she stared and remained silent as she listened to the soft hum of the blade. She was not sure what this color signified specifically with regards to her and what she had been struggling with, but all the same, she just knew it was right. It fit. It was her.

    A light clapping sound came from behind as if from far away and she slowly peered over her shoulder, almost hesitant to remove her eyes from her new possession. It had been the Master, and the others… oh yes, right.

    Curiously, Vale finally took the opportunity while walking back to the group to take note of the strangers she had not acknowledged before the lesson had begun. They each had their own sabers in hand, all different shades than her own. She offered a smile and a nod to any new face she could see, but nothing more than that. Her attentions were already back upon her mentor as he excitedly moved on with their lesson.

    “We are after all, Protectors. We often debate of what. Today, I shall, finally let you know.”

    With his usual enthusiastic flair, he revealed yet another surprise in that of a small item upon his cluttered desk. It was a cube, glowing faintly blue and somehow rippling the Force that surrounded it. Vale may not have been anywhere near the Master’s level of intuition and knowledge of the Force, but she could at least sense when something was different. That was this.

    Leaning forward to get a closer look, an array of images burst forth and she jumped, recovering quickly. Faces, creatures, battles and feelings… Vale’s eyes widened as she took in the visuals on display, tying to remember as many details as she could.

    “What in the blazes,” she mumbled under her breath as they all faded away.

    "....it contains the Knowledge I spoke of. Of what that we are the Protectors of. The Light of the future.”

    The Master paused and she peered down to her saber at her side, the purple casting a discoloring glow on her dark grey slacks. The ‘Light of the future’… that could mean a great deal of things. It was impossible for her not to apply the words personally, however, and she chose to see them as a sign. She was a part of the Light, being a Protector was a part of that, too, and the Light of the future will be what guides her.

    She suppressed a frown, knowing a decision had been made that she could not go back on. Not again.

    TAGS: @Sinrebirth & all
     
  19. Sinrebirth

    Sinrebirth Mod-Emperor of the EUC, Lit, RPF and SWC star 10 Staff Member Manager

    Registered:
    Nov 15, 2004
    Prologue

    Lesson Two, continued


    IC: The Master

    Clock-Temple

    Their emotions became tangled. The Master was silent, drinking in their concerns, their fears, their doubts, their curiosity... even the frown. Vydra was resolve. Zas'tel was fear. Oh yes, he was fear. Dr Graal was the doubt. Dunkeel was open, a way for the current, perhaps wary. Vale was warmed, but she could feel portent.

    The Master accepted them all. There were many reasons to be all of their emotions and more besides.

    “So, the Holocron allows you to see into the future, then? “To experience events before they happen? Or rather, to observe potential outcomes.”

    The Doctor - for the man was a thinking man yet again - slowly shook his head. “How…?” He spoke for them all - none of the others chimed in. Not just the Thinker, but the Leader. Not quite a Voice, no - he was independent, and that was good. The Master lifted his arms, gracefully, and their Forcesabers silenced, if they had not yet turned them off.

    "How is the question of a thinker."

    "Why is the question of a philosopher."

    "What is the question of a mechanic."

    "Where is the question of an explorer."

    "But when? When is the question of a prophet. A soothsayer. A madman," the Master said, gesturing to Zas'tel. "No?" He did not allow the nonhuman to respond, but gestured again, shutting off the cube-shaped Holocron.

    A flutter of his fingers, as if discarding a notion. "But I shall answer how. I shall show you." He gestured his hands, lifting them up. The Force seemed to gather momentum, and then stopped, rippling, and roiling. An eternity seemed to be yawing beneath them, though the room had not moved. The walls were stretching, though they had not shifted. The ceiling opaqued, and stars began to be shown through it, though no monstrosity had ripped the roof of the Clock-Temple, nor had the day vanished into night.

    "But not today." He dropped his hands, his bemusement rippling into the Force, and the moment passed. There was a ruefulness to themselves.

    He gestured to them. "Though you may not realise it, some hours have been lost while you focused on your Forcesabers. You need to get home, or, of course, stay later. Your spouses and lives await. This Lesson is over - and it was two in one." He nodded. "You have homework. Intuit what shell your crystal requires. Perhaps if you find some components, I shall show you how to remake your Forcesaber in your image - more than you have already."

    "I reserve the right to refuse any modifications to your weapon, Zas'tel. You ended up with the same colour as mine! I think you should keep the hilt the same way as mine too." The Master did not brandish his Forcesaber as proof. He merely chuckled. "I would have loved a white blade though, I must say. But you know what they say," he said, raising his voice slightly. "Actually, you don't."

    "Before you submit your last minute questions..." He eyed Vydra, who also questioned things - which was, of course, good. "I want to add something to your language. I coined it, you see. It's a blessing, if you will. I always quietly say it to you as you leave the lesson, and it seems appropriate now you are on the cusp of being Protectors in full. I think its quite nifty, of course, and almost cute." He paused, dramatically. "It's even a bit of a riddle, one could say. I expect it will echo through the ages." Again he gestured to them all, as if drawing them into a hug, which of course he was not, though he did enfold their senses - softly, so as not to alarm any of them. The warmth of nest, of home, of love.

    "May the Force be with you."

    TAG: @HanSolo29, @Mitth_Fisto, @QueenSabe7, @Jerjerrod-Lennox, @Kev-Mas_Colcha
     
  20. Mitth_Fisto

    Mitth_Fisto Chosen One star 6

    Registered:
    Sep 29, 2005
    IC: Dunkeel
    Clock-Temple


    “So, the Holocron allows you to see into the future, then? “To experience events before they happen? Or rather, to observe potential outcomes.”

    The Doctor - of what he had never actually paid attention to - slowly shook his head. “How…?” It was a good question, good enough that no one really wanted to follow that one up with anything else. The Master lifted his arms, gracefully, and their Forcesabers silenced, if they had not yet turned them off. And that was the moment he knew this was going to be another winding answer that might or might not get lost in the reeds on the way to them. If you learned the terrain of The Master's replies well enough you eventually could piece the narratives together better.

    "How is the question of a thinker." - Well, he supposed he wasn't really one of those. He liked to think he was when it came to his work, but when it came down to brass fittings he knew how they worked and he didn't really try to reinvent the door beyond his own room and maybe now his own Fang. No surprise he guessed that the Doctor among them fit this bill.

    "Why is the question of a philosopher." - Well, that was true. He was questioning the thing being given them, not that he thought of himself as a philosopher, but yes that was a very good question.

    "What is the question of a mechanic." He was going to get there, he just felt that the what was mostly already answered to anyone looking. So what, left how a much better question to his mind.

    "Where is the question of an explorer." Alright, that was. . .that was one he was not going to get to on his own most likely. Especially as he had not a thought of where anywhere in his first or ten thoughts on this whole experience and revelation so far.

    "But when? When is the question of a prophet. A soothsayer. A madman," the Master said, gesturing to the Shadow. "No?" He did not allow the nonhuman to respond, but gestured again, shutting off the cube-shaped Holocron. Ending the traipsing through the weeds, or at least so he had hoped.

    A flutter of The Masters fingers, as if discarding a notion. "But I shall answer how. I shall show you." He gestured his hands, lifting them up. The Force seemed to gather momentum, a thickening of the air that seemed to spread and waver upon the senses almost as a breath of another's air dancing upon him. An eternity seemed to be yawing beneath them, though the room had not moved. The walls were stretching, though they had not shifted. The ceiling opaqued, and stars began to be shown through it, though no monstrosity had ripped the roof of the Clock-Temple, nor had the day vanished into night. It was a wondrous duplicity of the senses that left him questioning not the base of the cube but of his own existence and perception.

    "But not today." The Master dropped his hands, his bemusement rippling into the Force, and the moment passed. Reality crashed down as though it had never been gone, crude matter once more obstructed his vision above with a ceiling that was no further away then it had been a moment before.

    He gestured to them. "Though you may not realise it, some hours have been lost while you focused on your Forcesabers. You need to get home, or, of course, stay later. Your spouses and lives await. This Lesson is over - and it was two in one." He nodded. "You have homework. Intuit what shell your crystal requires. Perhaps if you find some components, I shall show you how to remake your Forcesaber in your image - more than you have already."

    This was heartening, Fang needed a proper dressing up. He had a few ideas, but then without knowing the inner workings he could not really begin too drastic a change to the Forcesaber he held, now deactivated and silent in his hand.

    "I reserve the right to refuse any modifications to your weapon, Zas'tel. You ended up with the same colour as mine! I think you should keep the hilt the same way as mine too." The Master merely chuckled. And Dunkeel choked on a laugh at the situation, instead trying to dip his head and dry swallow as if he had a bit of phlegm instead. "I would have loved a white blade though, I must say. But you know what they say," he said, raising his voice slightly. "Actually, you don't."

    "Before you submit your last minute questions..." He eyed Vydra, who also questioned things - which was, of course, good. "I want to add something to your language. I coined it, you see. It's a blessing, if you will. I always quietly say it to you as you leave the lesson, and it seems appropriate now you are on the cusp of being Protectors in full. I think its quite nifty, of course, and almost cute." He paused, dramatically. "It's even a bit of a riddle, one could say. I expect it will echo through the ages." Again he gestured to them all, as if drawing them into a hug, which of course he was not, though he did enfold their senses - softly, so as not to alarm any of them. The warmth of nest, of home, of love.

    "May the Force be with you."

    He blinked a few times at that. Tilting his head as his own words seemed to tumble out unbidden. "And with you." It was a curious turn of phrase as they were the Force and the Force was all things and everywhere. It was like saying 'May you smell like a mammal' to the other students. It really. . .well, whatever. There were other things to focus on then that. A great many things.

    TAG: @Sinrebirth ; @HanSolo29 , @QueenSabe7 , @Jerjerrod-Lennox , @Kev-Mas_Colcha
     
  21. QueenSabe7

    QueenSabe7 Chosen One star 6

    Registered:
    Mar 23, 2001
    IC: Vale Sera
    Clock-Temple, Nouane
    Lesson Two, cont’d

    The majority of Vale’s thoughts and emotions were still hooked on the flurry of activity the mysterious holocron had produced, dissecting everything she could remember seeing. And feeling. Her excitement peaked, in this single day alone having experienced so much. She knew she was hyper-sensitive to it all having been away so long, but still it was difficult realizing the fact that it would inevitably come to a stop.

    Distracted, she almost missed hearing a voice speak up, though it didn’t belong to the Master. Where she felt it was more respectful to remain silent until the end, she did not become irritated. Her reaction towards the clearly male tone was more akin to impatience, that an interruption might keep her from learning all she could in the time allotted.

    This is just your first lesson back, you know, she chided herself, guiding her restlessness down to near unnoticeable levels. Everyone had a right to inquire, gods knew she had her fair share of questions and had asked countless others before.

    Peering to her side, she caught the owner of the voice and was surprised to find a face she already knew, albeit not personally. She couldn’t quite place the name – Jorah? No… Jorell? J-something… - but she had definitely seen him on holos and knew him to be an author of sorts. Her wife, Zinara, was a rather big fan and had purchased his books some time ago, rereading them periodically…

    Joren! Yes, that was it. Joren Graal.

    Her blue-grey eyes narrowed towards him, the Force prickling with awareness.

    How curious, that she would find a link so direct between her two halves that had nothing to do with her, a connection that had been fostered all on its own... and to discover it here. Now she did frown, but due to confusion and mulling that particular thread over more than anything else. The Force worked in mysterious ways and never owed an explanation, what becomes of things is only because the Force wills it. Perhaps this was a way of showing her that it could be possible to have her love and her life coexist, not for her, but because of her.

    Vale sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to keep her thoughts from diving too deep during the lesson. That would be inappropriate and there was a time and place for that level of introspect. There would be a desperate need for solitary meditation at the conclusion of this day, there was certainly a lot to sort through.

    Suddenly, the soft vibrational hum of her Forcesaber vanished, removed collectively at once with the others. Looking down to her hand as she raised it slightly, the unremarkable hilt was unchanged but was now without her newly configured purple blade. The Master seemed bemused, his arms raised as if to signal something, or to have turned some things off. A lop-sided smirk emerged from her frown, returning her hand to her side.

    Again the Master’s arms rose higher and she brought her eyes along with them, up and up. There was a pressure coiling about her, she could easily sense the tender currents of the Force folding her tightly in its embrace. It was soothing, comforting and at the same time, always a bit frightening. In this sense, fear was more present than normal because she was given the feeling of… forever. Of something unending into the past and moving always into the future. For a reason she couldn’t grasp in the quickness of the sensation, the notion made her uneasy if also terrified.

    Limitless possibilities? An eternity of ideas? Unfathomable stretches of time?

    The tiny pinpoints of the stars began to trickle through the high ceiling and with it she saw what she felt, pushing out into space to go on and on with nothing to stop it. Vale’s lips parted in awe, taking in the oddly beautiful sight before it vanished, the temple returning to normal and the intensified energies mellowing. It lingered within her, though – leaving her energized, alight with motivation.

    Shaking her head slowly, not for the first time nor the last, she absorbed the new experience and lesson with gratitude. A strange result to witnessing that which scares you, no?

    "May the Force be with you," came her teacher’s parting words, abruptly bringing an end to her time at the temple – for now. It was a simple sentence, yet deep with meaning. She liked it very much.

    "And with you."

    Vale again looked to the owner of a new voice, though this one wasn’t as unknown as the writer’s. It answered their Master and she smiled before even turning to see to whom it belonged. A tall reptilian creature stood nearby, its hide orange and brown in color – a familiar from the past and a name she immediately recalled. Dunkeel.

    “And also with you,” Vale added second, her voice steady and strong. She nodded in Dunkeel’s direction and again towards the Master, casually sliding her eyes by Joren to offer him one as well. Unsure if she should approach the chistori or whether she should just leave and let the adventure of today be, she gathered her things all the same. There was ‘homework’ after all, and a long, potentially harmful confession to give her spouse. A chill ran down her spine at the thought, dampening her happiness marginally.

    For all the wonder of the past few hours and her eagerness, her desire to keep going, her other half was calling, relentless and unyielding. That motivation she had been given earlier would have to be turned and used for a different purpose, but regardless, she was thankful for it. Reaquainting conversations could wait, because she would be back.

    Setting her shoulders and shrugging her military-issue jacket back on, Vale took a breath and began to make her way back towards the main floor. Her mouth moved silently over unheard words, already starting to plan out just how she would tell Zinara that she broke her promise to her, and how she had been constantly lying to the person she cared about most.

    TAGS: @Sinrebirth @Mitth_Fisto @HanSolo29 directly, @Jerjerrod-Lennox @Kev-Mas_Colcha
     
    Last edited: May 21, 2019
  22. AgentViper007

    AgentViper007 Force Ghost star 7

    Registered:
    Mar 9, 2005
    IC: Vydra Delomeux
    Location: The Clock Temple, Nouane


    Joren started asking questions regarding the Holocrons, questions that Vydra was wondering about asking but decided to let him take the lead.

    The Master however decided to give them one of his cryptic answers also shutting off those who had their Forcesabers still on, which Vydra’s was. He could equate himself to being a thinker and a philosopher, he was always asking questions, seeking answers and delving into anything he could, so long as it didn't delve too much into the dark. He didn't want anything to taint his views, but his thirst for knowledge was sometimes overwhelming.

    Always thinking….

    It was then that the Master decided to change things, literally. Vydra watched with a little awe and a little curiosity as the Force seemed to turn the room into a void, the ceiling opaque and he could see stars above. It was a marvel, and Vydra was not afraid, even though there seemed to be a yawning void of eternity beneath him. He felt that space was where he should belong, scouring the stars, protecting the vulnerable from threats, not back on Nouane stacking books in a library.

    It did feel however like someone was brushing him, the air feeling like someone had just ghosted past him. He was tempted to look around and see if anyone was there but he was too mesmerized by the stars. Ans soon as it was revealed however, the illusion was dissipated, it was if the Master was giving them a teaser.

    He gestured to them. "Though you may not realise it, some hours have been lost while you focused on your Forcesabers. You need to get home, or, of course, stay later. Your spouses and lives await. This Lesson is over - and it was two in one." He nodded. "You have homework. Intuit what shell your crystal requires. Perhaps if you find some components, I shall show you how to remake your Forcesaber in your image - more than you have already."

    This scared Vydra. So he had been trained in the aspects of the Force, but it was another thing to try and adapt your Forcesaber to what he desired without it either blowing up in his face or accidentally stabbing himself. He did like the hilt as it was, silver and gold seemed to match him and his personality, perhaps he could just make it all gold, keep it simple.

    It seemed that Zas’tel the shadow was being denied the chance to adapt his saber as his blade was the same as the Masters. Vydra felt it was a little unfair, but the Masters final ruling was law. The comment about him wanting a white blade though was a little curious.

    "Before you submit your last minute questions..." He eyed Vydra, who also questioned things - which was, of course, good. "I want to add something to your language. I coined it, you see. It's a blessing, if you will. I always quietly say it to you as you leave the lesson, and it seems appropriate now you are on the cusp of being Protectors in full. I think it's quite nifty, of course, and almost cute." He paused, dramatically. "It's even a bit of a riddle, one could say. I expect it will echo through the ages." Again he gestured to them all, as if drawing them into a hug, which of course he was not, though he did enfold their senses - softly, so as not to alarm any of them. The warmth of nest, of home, of love.

    "May the Force be with you."


    He echoed the response “And with you Master”

    It seemed he had read Vydra’s mind that he would potentially ask any number of questions. Vydra felt like the Master did that this phrase could be echoed through the ages, that this phrase could be a gesture of goodwill, of a blessing to others. Or perhaps he was thinking too deeply into things again.

    However it would be nice to have a break, to get back to some sort of normality. Because you never could tell if this would be the last time he could see them again. They may have been disappointed in him for not becoming a librarian, but he still loved them and they still loved him. So perhaps it was time to drop the monk facade and be just him for once.

    The little bit flamboyant, joyful and always smiling man had become slightly more serious and thoughtful nowadays. His family would probably see he had changed and probably had no idea of what he would be telling them about the mysteries of the Force and all he had learned. Becoming a Protector had caused friction between them.

    It was perhaps time to mend things.

    Before it was too late.

    TAG: @Sinrebirth , All
     
  23. Kev-Mas_Colcha

    Kev-Mas_Colcha Force Ghost star 5

    Registered:
    Dec 15, 2002
    IC: Zas'tel
    Clock-Temple

    "How is the question of a thinker."

    "Why is the question of a philosopher."

    "What is the question of a mechanic."

    "Where is the question of an explorer."

    "But when? When is the question of a prophet. A soothsayer. A madman," said the Master, pointing to Zas'tel, "No?"

    Zas'tel blinked. He had been singled out. His absolute worst fear was to be the center of attention. For other eyes to be upon him.

    Regardless of whether or not the Master would have allowed him to respond, he was too busy trembling in fear to even try.

    The Holocron shut off, bringing Zas'tel's attention back to reality.

    "But I shall answer how. I shall show you," continued the Master, as he fluttered his fingers and gestured his hands, lifting them up. Suddenly, the walls and ceilings seemed to slip away, as it appeared they were suddenly outside.

    "But not today." He dropped his hands, and Zas'tel could sense odd emotions coming from the Master. Ones he could not recognize.

    He gestured to them. "Though you may not realise it, some hours have been lost while you focused on your Forcesabers. You need to get home, or, of course, stay later. Your spouses and lives await. This Lesson is over - and it was two in one." He nodded, and Zas'tel started to make his way to the exit, slinking quietly and slowly in its general direction. "You have homework. Intuit what shell your crystal requires. Perhaps if you find some components, I shall show you how to remake your Forcesaber in your image - more than you have already."

    "I reserve the right to refuse any modifications to your weapon, Zas'tel. You ended up with the same colour as mine! I think you should keep the hilt the same way as mine too." Zas'tel winced. He was going to have to keep the modifications simple, that was for sure. "I would have loved a white blade though, I must say. But you know what they say," he said, raising his voice slightly. "Actually, you don't."

    Zas'tel glanced back to the Master, a confused look on his face.

    "Before you submit your last minute questions..."

    Zas'tel's gaze returned to the exit. His distaste for public speaking of any kind made his attention start to waver after that line.

    "I want to add something to your language. I coined it, you see. It's a blessing, if you will. I always quietly say it to you as you leave the lesson, and it seems appropriate now you are on the cusp of being Protectors in full. I think its quite nifty, of course, and almost cute." He paused, dramatically. "It's even a bit of a riddle, one could say. I expect it will echo through the ages." Suddenly Zas'tel felt an odd warmth, and he tried to shrug it off as the Master made strange gestures again.

    "May the Force be with you."

    "But it is with me. That's why I'm here." Zas'tel replied silently while continuing towards the exit, thinking it rather than speaking it.

    Tag: @Sinrebirth , all
     
  24. HanSolo29

    HanSolo29 RPF/SWC/Fan Art Manager & Bill Pullman Connoisseur star 7 Staff Member Manager

    Registered:
    Apr 13, 2001
    IC: Dr. Joren Graal
    The Clock Temple, Nouane

    How. Why. What. Where. When.

    In his own elegant way, the Master personified each of them through the use of an interrogative word, no doubt derived from their own unique traits and abilities. It was easy to discern which pertained to Joren based on his recent question, but other than Vydra the bookkeeper – who he had personally recruited to the Protectors several months ago – the rest of his colleagues continued to elude him. He knew it was probably in his best interest to get to know and understand them better, but for the moment, the Doctor remained distracted…

    And rightfully so.

    The air seemed to buzz with both excitement and anticipation as the Master agreed to answer Joren’s question and reveal to them the mystery behind the Holocron – to demonstrate how it was possible for them to glimpse into the future. It was almost too good to be true, but he found himself transfixed, hanging on every word that came from the Master’s mouth…

    And then the old man fluttered his fingers and a gateway opened for them. The Force responded by resonating in this grand space, heightening Joren’s senses and allowing him to perceive pathways that had previously been closed to him. It was as if the very chamber had expelled its tangible properties to become one with the cosmos. Even the high-arched ceiling seemed to fade to expose the stars beyond; it was as if he was peering into the center of the universe itself.

    The Doctor blinked and felt his mouth become unhinged at the sight, his back arcing to allow himself to soak it all in as the Force cascaded down on him from above. For a moment, he even believed that he was rising off the ground to meet this great expanse, but just when he thought that he could reach out and touch it...it ceased to exist.

    Everything returned to normal and silence reigned in the sacred chamber once more.

    Joren gasped and bit his lower lip, clearly shaken by what he had just experienced...and perhaps even mildly upset for having it wrenched away from him so abruptly. He had been on the cusp of something massive, only to have the Master deny him the truth through more of his careful cunning. Again, the Doctor knew there was probably a very good reason for these cryptic moments, but it didn’t make it hurt any less; he was human, after all.

    As a result, his mind began to race with a flurry of conflicting thoughts and emotions as he tried to process and make sense of everything that had just transpired. He was so consumed in his own inner musings, that he initially failed to acknowledge the Master’s assignment to expand upon their Forcesabers – a project that he knew would have certainly provided him with focus and purpose.

    Instead, it was the quiet stirring from one of his fellow students that ultimately roused him from these deliberations. It manifested itself as a subtle nudge in the Force, as if someone had brushed the tip of a finger gently across the nape of his neck, causing the small hairs to stand on end. Joren could also sense the onset of certain emotions – curiosity, joy, acceptance…

    He responded to these impressions by turning his head marginally, his blue eyes coming to rest on a dark-haired woman standing a few feet away. He hadn’t noticed her before today’s lesson, but it was rather curious to discover that she was the only female among them...and she had apparently taken a keen interest in his presence.

    His brow knitted slightly at this realization; more than likely she had recognized him from his HoloNet series. It wasn’t entirely unusual for him to attract a small crowd while out in public, depending on the part of the city he was in. He just hadn’t expected it here, in the heart of the Protectors’ realm. Then again, he supposed it made sense that his fans would hail from all walks of life.

    Before Joren could break away to confront this woman, the lilting voice of the Master carried across the chamber to draw his attention forward. “I want to add something to your language,” he began earnestly, gesturing lightly with his wide sleeves. “I coined it, you see. It's a blessing, if you will. I always quietly say it to you as you leave the lesson, and it seems appropriate now you are on the cusp of being Protectors in full. I think it’s quite nifty, of course, and almost cute. I expect it will echo through the ages."

    A dramatic pause followed, prompting Joren to incline his chin expectantly.

    "May the Force be with you."

    The phrase was simple, yet its connotation was favorable and true. It held an otherworldly feel that fit well for the occasion; he could certainly see how something similar could eventually appear in future texts highlighting their life and times. It truly was an exhilarating feeling.

    And then all at once, he heard the others take up the call in return:

    “And with you.”

    “And also with you.”

    “And with you, Master.”

    The only one to refrain from this mantra was the Shadow, but Joren hardly seemed to notice. A smile had returned to his features, bolstering his confidence and restoring some of the vitality he had previously lost over the Master’s mind games. Their camaraderie and strength was a major proponent as to why he did this; it sustained them and helped to facilitate the different pathways that connected them directly to the Force. It provided him with a purpose.

    Inhaling deeply, Joren did not verbally respond like the others; instead he dipped his head respectfully in parting, expressing his approval with the Master’s choice of words and allowing the others to fully complete the circle.

    As he turned to take his leave, the Doctor had every intention of catching up with the exotic-looking woman who had been observing him earlier from afar. Something about her had intrigued him, and he would have liked the chance to introduce himself. But after gathering his belongings and working his way toward the stairwell, he discovered that she had already departed.

    Damn, she’s fast.

    Joren stopped at the top of the stairs and scoffed lightly at his poor timing, reaching up to rub at the back of his neck.

    And stealthy too.

    TAG: @Sinrebirth; @QueenSabe7; @Jerjerrod-Lennox; @Mitth_Fisto; @Kev-Mas_Colcha
     
  25. Sinrebirth

    Sinrebirth Mod-Emperor of the EUC, Lit, RPF and SWC star 10 Staff Member Manager

    Registered:
    Nov 15, 2004
    Prologue

    Between Lessons Two and Three

    IC: The Master

    The Clock-Temple

    It had been one helluva lesson. Two in one, technically. The Forcesabers, the Holocrons. He would have to hand over to them their holocrons in due course. During the break. The Master clapped his hands together. "Well said, Protectors." He waved them off. Your third lesson, perhaps your penultimate one, will be in two weeks. I have... errands to run, and they will come to an end soon enough."

    "Another aside for the weeks of gap," he suddenly perked up. "Beyond the whole 'find your shell' idea, because that is important." He pointed at them, brandishing his gloved finger as if a weapon.

    "Your path will be determined soon. Your Truth will be spoken, and when it is, everything changes. You must accept that. You must embrace that." His voice dipped, softly. "Please, make sure that you reconcile; that you reunite." He thought of Vale for the former, Vydra for the second. "If you have anything to finish up, or resolve, I would recommend you do your best. Some of you have set events into motion today, some of you will head back to the life you have anyway, without a care in the world. Think about what you want, and accept what you have not."

    “I will not be intervening for these two weeks. You need to be yourselves, and speak to those you love, to those you fear, to those you hate. We Protect the Light, but the past will haunt you going forward.”

    He hoped they would take this opportunity. He would meet with them during this gap individually to pass to them their Holocrons... and their Truths. Their secret Truths - if they shared them, then all would be undone. He looked forward to speaking to them each. Their names would echo subtly through the ages, and they would be remembered not as they are, but as they will become.

    Thus, the short recess.

    Because the Twilight Wars will soon be upon us. The Master managed to keep his expression neutral, and his emotions silent. He could not help the thought, but he could still his anticipation entering the Force.

    TAG: @QueenSabe7, @Jerjerrod-Lennox, @Mitth_Fisto, @Kev-Mas_Colcha, @HanSolo29
     
    Last edited: May 23, 2019