Corr
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Post by Corr on May 9, 2015 14:24:41 GMT -8
Standard GBA rules. Lightsabers and Force only.
Coruscant - Jedi Temple Training Grounds
Within the towering spires of the Jedi Temple many wonders could be beheld. One of which was the training room which consisted of a cavernous hall that stretched for over a hundred metres on its longest side. It had unique characteristics in that variations in temperature, simulations of high winds and various weather conditions, the increase or decrease of gravity, and other phenomenon could be dictated from a control booth situated high on a balcony overlooking the area. Various platforms, balance beams, large wobble balls and other obstacles could also be introduced and controlled from the same room, adding an ever changing tableau to terrain and conditions. The control room also had several preset programs that could be initiated and run, varying from the basics of the room itself to a level nine hazardous environment. There was also the possibility of adding training droids into the equation, their programming specific to whatever the dualist decided.
Double doors opened at one end of the hall and would close behind to reveal not a hint of the portal contained there. The walls could also be tasked to mimic scenes from various planets, giving the illusion that the duelists ar, in fact, at said location.
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Post by Vidalu Na'an on May 9, 2015 14:56:14 GMT -8
"Okay, here's the one."
The darkened training hall suddenly flooded with light from the double doors, marked only by the silhouettes of two children. The larger of the pair reached in, feeling for the wall panel that would fill the cavernous space with light. He reached it quickly, both of them already being long familiar with the layout, and squinted against the bright flare.
The smaller of the two children was a girl of around eight or nine; she bounded into the room on the balls of her feet, surveying the training hall with bright grey eyes. "It's perfect," she said in a high clear voice. "He comes here after the dinner hour every other night for private practice. If I wait in here I can't miss him."
"I don't know, Na'an." The boy, a tall stocky youth with all the signs of approaching puberty, frowned. "Are you sure he won't get mad just that you've been hiding in here and refuse you?"
Na'an made a face at him, pulling up her chin-length hair into a knot. "Sanaa, he's got to know this is coming. Hell, I beat YOU last week, and you've got three years, six inches, and twenty-five pounds on me." She put her hands on her hips, surveying the area and counting the number of balance beams the last class had left behind. "I wouldn't be the first youngling who ever made Padawan at nine, and I won't be the last. He'll know that."
"Yeah, but Master Iorek's the hardest one there is. He doesn't sponsor Padawans."
"That's why I want him!"
"You're crazy. He'll whoop your hide till you can't even stand!"
Na'an shrugged. "Didn't you say the same thing about Carnassus Sor?"
The boy's scowl darkened. "I had to clean the bathrooms after that one."
"Not my fault you suck at betting. Now get outta here or he'll catch you too." Na'an knelt carefully at the door, closing her eyes and focusing on her breathing. In her focus, she did not watch her friend leave the hall. Rather, she focused her attention on her hands clenching and unclenching in her lap, memorizing the details of her training shoto in her tunic's front pocket. She had to show her best work today, or her teacher would never give her what she'd already earned. In one thing Sanat Vos had been right--Rutil Iorek, Jedi Knight, was the Coruscant Temple's most notorious hardcase when it came to the younglings.
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The Shepherd
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Post by The Shepherd on May 9, 2015 15:27:07 GMT -8
Na'an did not have to wait long. On the other side of the hall, another pair of double doors swung open, and allowed entrance to a figure as far from the younglings as could be reasoned. The figure strode where the younglings shuffled, remained silent while the younglings chattered, and wore a permanent scowl and icy glare where the children could barely keep from hiding their smiles and bewildered eyes. Since his arrival on Coruscant, it had been joked that the Jedi Temple had but a single gargoyle, and that it answered to the name of Rutil Iorek. And while he knew - and silently approved - of the jest, the Masters were too respectful, the Knights too polite, the Padawans too reverent, and the younglings too scared to say it to his face.
The Zabrak's footfalls were slow and heavy, each one echoing across the room before he came to a stop, his steely gaze coming to a rest at the nine-year-old girl almost a hundred meters away. Rutil had thought to ask if she was lost, or even to order her out of the room, but he had no particular right to solitude in this place and knew as much. Besides, the youngling was intent on learning, and it was far from Rutil to disallow an opportunity to learn. Especially if the student came so willingly. Especially if they did so knowing just how harsh a teacher he could be.
Her intent was clear: the youngling was gunning for a place by a Master's side, and hoped to prove herself here. Tonight. Her lack of patience would prove her downfall; the very motion of intruding on what was commonly known as private time for a teacher known for specifically not sponsoring younglings for older Jedi spoke to a hardheadedness and naivety that would have disqualified her before she even began. But words alone were not going to reach this one. If Rutil sent her off, she would simple reappear the next night. And the night after. And the night after that one. Repeating day after day until he finally relented and gave her a chance.
Rutil would know more than any other Jedi there; at her age, he had been exactly the same way. So far as he was concerned, it was only fair she learned the same way he did.
"You'll need more than a shoto, snot-nose. You know where the blades are."
Jerking his head toward the case where the training sabers were contained, Rutil unclipped his own durasteel hilt from his belt and went for the case on his own side of the hall, opening it and placing his own weapon inside before drawing one of the simulation weapons.
True to his character, Rutil's lightsaber had no safety setting.
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Post by Vidalu Na'an on May 9, 2015 15:53:27 GMT -8
The little girl rose quickly, her back ramrod-straight in the presence of her teacher, and strode stiffly towards the case he had indicated. She knew almost every blade inside by feel now. After years of training with Rutil Iorek, Na'an had had the importance of competence with an unfamiliar weapon hammered into her brain the hard way. Her fingers traced over the handles of the full sized sabers, the delicate heft of a lightfoil, the clumsy weight of the one greatsaber and the double-bladed monstrosity that no one really liked to use.
Then Na'an closed the case.
"With all due respect, Sir, I'll keep my own weapon." She drew the shoto carefully from her pocket and lit the green blade. It made sense. A small blade for a small Padawan-to-be, and after six years she knew this one as well as her own arm.
Jogging the length of the hall, she stopped about ten yards away from Rutil, and shifted instinctively into the standard Ataru opening stance. She'd thought for days about her approach here, weighing the forms against each other. Would her teacher want to see pure, elegant bladework with Makashi, or the more modern balance of Niman, or something powerful and heavy like Djem So? In the end, though, it had always come back to Ataru. Master Iorek had made her love the high-flying, fast-paced form above all the others, and even if it wasn't the most powerful one she knew, Na'an wanted him to see what she was capable of.
Which, based on the principles of Ataru, was attack.
Na'an threw herself forward, closing the gap between her and Rutil in a flurry of steps. Just before smashing into him, she flipped high over his head, swinging her saber below her to aim at the horns over his eyes.
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Post by The Shepherd on May 9, 2015 16:12:37 GMT -8
By the time the youngling had begun to swing the bright green blade, the arc it traced cut nothing but open air. Rutil had taken the time she used to step forward and away before turning to face the youngling, not even bothering to activate his own weapon in response as she came to a landing. Instead, he simply thrust his open hand outward, letting a surge of energy hit the impetuous child square in the chest and sending her careening towards the closed door behind now behind her.
If she wanted to have a place beside a Master, she would have to earn one. And that would not be won by swordplay alone.
Of course, Rutil was holding back. He had to; while he demanded his students to give their all and find more to give him, he knew that returning the favor would lead to broken bones and broken wills. But then again, it was a rare sight for Rutil himself to go blade-to-blade against any of his students, and he never used his telekinesis in conjunction with his blade work in a training scenario. Snot-Nose was going to get as close to the real deal as the temple's gargoyle dared to give her. And while that was a far cry from what the grouchy Zabrak was truly capable of, it would be far more than the youngling would have gotten before.
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Post by Vidalu Na'an on May 9, 2015 16:31:18 GMT -8
Na'an hurtled towards the door, spinning to face it as she flew. Throwing one hand out in front of her, she Pushed hard with the Force to cushion herself and take the impact in her legs and knees. She used it to angle up and to the left, leaping for one of the remaining balance beams and lighting on top of it, clinging to it with one hand for balance.
Since when did Master Rutil use telekinesis in the training rooms?!? Na'an scowled childishly, already knowing that the question was stupid. Sanaa was right--he was the hardest one there was--and he'd decided to be even harder now for intruding on his private time.
Was Rutil telling Na'an that she couldn't impress him just with the bladework he taught her? Or was he telling her that she couldn't impress him at all?
She couldn't back out now. She had to think of something, fast. There was a set of wobble balls to Rutil's left, her right, presumably from the previous class of younglings. Focusing on it, Na'an sent one, then two more flying at his knees, hoping to get his attention. At the same time she pushed down inside her head, suppressing her own Force presence as well she'd learned how, as she grabbed the beam and swing herself down at him again, jabbing with the shoto in a riff on the Falling Leaf.
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Post by The Shepherd on May 9, 2015 16:57:36 GMT -8
The wobble balls were a nice touch. As soon as the first one took off, Rutil stepped and slid to his his own left, deftly dodging the first wobble ball. A slide backward sent the second ball brushing past his leg, and with a short flick of his wrist, the third wobble ball curved mid-flight and was sent reeling into the case of training sabers, almost toppling the thing. The Zabrak stood stock still, only to hear the whirring of a lightsaber blade zipping through the air getting louder and louder.
Clever.
Cleverer than he had given her credit for, anyway.
Clever enough for him to up his game.
*snap-hiss*
Rutil spun around, the green blade of the youngling's shoto batted away by a second green beam of energy protruding from the metal cylinder in the gargoyle's hand. As Snot-Nose made her landing, the old Jedi pushed her blade away and swung it back around the way it had come, utilizing a quick Makashi slash to go for the youngling's thigh.
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Post by Vidalu Na'an on May 9, 2015 17:12:24 GMT -8
And the saber was out!
Even as her teacher swung for her leg, Na'an couldn't help but beam at her own accomplishment. If he'd lost the patience he needed to dispatch her without the blade, she was doing well.
She shifted her weight, pivoting backward to pull her thigh out of reach, then shifted it again to complete the circle on her other leg and face Rutil again. She left her saber arm ride her momentum, swinging up and back, then down and forward to strike twice for his torso. It wasn't quite a standard Ataru move, but more of a bastadization of Ataru armwork and Makashi footwork. The standard Ataru move would have been to leap over the blade entirely and aim the flurry of strikes at the head.
But then, the standard Ataru move hadn't worked the last time, had it?
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Post by The Shepherd on May 9, 2015 17:27:11 GMT -8
It took only a quick readjustment for Rutil to pull his hilt close to his chest, angling his blade to catch Na'an's as her strikes came in. She was sloppy. The strikes were good and solid - so far as they could be for a girl her size, anyway - but the footwork was narrow, sacrificing her balance for the sake of getting the blade to its target. Rutil liked the initiative, but there needed to be a certain proficiency in styles before one tried to combine them, and the youngling simply was not there yet.
As Na'an came in for her second strike, Rutil pushed her blade away with his own, using his free hand to reach under his crossing arm to grab Na'an by the tunic. He changed levels, crouching down to spin her around before springing up again, using the extra momentum to launch the girl deeper into the hallway. And as she flew, the old man deactivated his lightsaber and raised his left arm, stretching out his hand.
After a brief moment, the Knight allowed his hand to drop. With a stereophonic slam, the training hall was plunged into darkness.
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Post by Vidalu Na'an on May 9, 2015 18:16:09 GMT -8
Na'an tumbled head over heels, squawking with surprise when the lights suddenly died. The only thing visible when she finally settled upright was her own lightsaber; she whipped her head back and forth, realizing that this meant her teacher had deactivated his own.
She couldn't see him at all in the thick, tangible dark...but he could see her.
With a moment's hesitation, she snapped her own lightsaber off, letting the dark close around her too. Now they were on equal footing as far as sight. Closing her eyes, she reached out with her free hand, feeling for the familiar tang Rutil gave off in the Force. She thought back to all the sparring sessions he'd given her over the last six years, all the bruises, the few occasions he'd used telekinesis while she stood watching with wide, wondering eyes...all the last six years he'd called her snot-nose and yet never pushed her away...
There.
He hadn't moved much since switching off the lights, but there he was, his Force signature as blunt and imposing as his face. She paced backward, increasing the distance between them, feeling with the Force to find a weak spot and settling for the closest thing she could grasp.
She curled her fingers, feeling her grasp of Force solidify around his ankle, and yanked.
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Post by The Shepherd on May 9, 2015 18:33:51 GMT -8
In the darkness, there were two sounds made in rapid succession. The first was the telltale slide of rubber on tile as Rutil's foot was suddenly pulled from under him. The second was the dull thud of his hard, aged body hitting the floor. A few seconds later, there was a soft, whisper-like sound, like a soft breeze blowing through the hall.
And then, mere meters from the youngling and closing fast, an almost blinding beam of green light erupted from the darkness and spun with a demon's fury, coming at Na'an from seemingly everywhere at once.
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Post by Vidalu Na'an on May 9, 2015 19:40:35 GMT -8
Na'an nearly screamed at the sudden, blinding flash of the saber approaching her face. Holding on to her Force Grip on Rutil's foot, she dropped into a tight somersault just as the spinning blade blazed over her back. If she'd been a larger child, the move would have been impossible; as it was, she felt the edge of the saber graze inches over her shoulder, burning like a hot brand held close to her skin. In a vague, disconnected way, she caught the scent of singed hair.
Well. That would be hard to braid when she won her padawanship.
But this was another opportunity, wasn't it? Rutil had thrown his own weapon, backing it with the Force. She couldn't overwhelm his grip on the lightsaber directly, not at her age and power, but if he lost his own control on it...
Still nearly flat to the floor, she focused again on the foot she'd felt out before, tightening her own Force Grip. Swinging her arm out, she shook the connection hard back and forth, worrying it like a kath hound at a bone. Either he'd get shaken hard enough to lose his Force Grip, or let go in order to regain control of his foot, and then she could get up again get back on the offensive.
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Post by The Shepherd on May 9, 2015 20:01:50 GMT -8
Rutil hated the saber throw. Whenever he was asked why he refused to teach it even to his senior students, he would open the floor to anybody in the nearby vicinity, all of whom answered reasonably; the necessary focus was hard to keep in the middle of battle, the blade could careen off course and hit a bystander, an especially fortunate opponent could seize control of the blade, the list went on. It was a very rare thing for a student or passer-by to give the answer that Rutil was looking for, and was just demonstrated in the halls of the Jedi Temple.
No matter how well the maneuver was executed, even in the best possible scenario one could imagine, the Jedi was now without their lightsaber. Fortunately, Rutil did not have to be himself in a training scenario, and it allowed him to use moves - and thus, demonstrate by example - he would never even consider in the field.
Fortunately, Rutil had been ready for the girl to panic and start shaking his ankle something fierce. His own blade extinguished, the hilt clattering against the tile floor in the darkness as he broke the girl's psychic hold on his ankle. And when he did, the Zabrak did something else he would never have done in an actual battle.
"Are you ready, Snot-Nose?"
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Post by Vidalu Na'an on May 10, 2015 12:00:50 GMT -8
Na'an could feel her tenuous Force Grip break as soon as Rutil applied pressure to it. She scrambled to her feet, wishing that her eyes would adjust to the dark already--the flash of the saber had ruined her night vision again, leaving bright spots across her eye blocking any chance of catching Rutil's shadow. She started slightly at his words--was he joking? Taunting her? Or had he not even started to fight her?
"I gotta be, don't I?" Her voice was shaking slightly from the exertion, making her sound very young. As she spoke, she continued backing away, towards the cabinet her teacher had indicated before. "I mean, you're sitting down still...you just hucked your lightsaber so you don't have a weapon..."
As she paced, she hit something small and round with her foot. Rutil's lightsaber had deactivated, rolling to rest just near the door. Na'an didn't hesitate, but knelt and grabbed the hilt, stuffing it into her pocket while retaining her shoto.
"I'd like to think I'm doing okay."
She considered sliding back into an Ataru stance, but she'd created too much distance to make an effective attack off of it; instead, she took the saber in both hands, adopting a modified Soresu posture. She didn't know what her teacher would throw at her next, but whatever it was would probably be nasty.
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Post by The Shepherd on May 10, 2015 13:09:16 GMT -8
The words had hardly finished carrying across the air when Rutil reached out with the Force, violently hoisting Vidalu into the air and slamming her against the nearest wall, keeping her pinned almost four meters above the hard floor. Continuing pressure kept the young girl completely immobilized as slow, heavy footsteps once again echoed in the hallway. Half a minute passed, the pressure on the youngling's body both overpowering and unrelenting, as Rutil's body came into view, just barely visible on the fringes of the lightsaber's green glow.
"I'm without a weapon," the Jedi growled, the faint light making the grim-faced Zabrak look outright demonic, "but I'm not unarmed. Let me demonstrate."
On cue, Vidalu's sword arm was taken hold of, the unseen power of the Force forcing it to move against its owner's will. The training blade began a slow, inexorable journey towards the youngling's throat, allowing the girl to process every centimeter it gained and every second that passed.
Four meters below her, Rutil Iorek stood by, arms folded behind his back, watching the spectacle unfold.
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Post by Vidalu Na'an on May 10, 2015 13:38:43 GMT -8
The sudden impact sent Na'an's vision from white spots to stars as her small body slammed into duracrete. She tried to twist out of Rutil's Force Grip, tried plying her own telekinesis to move, tried to thrash and escape to no avail. The older Knight was stronger than she was, far stronger, and as she tried futilely she watched her teacher come into view.
Na'an had very rarely seen Rutil Iorek in full dark before. The dim green light playing off his horns made him look like a demon, or a strange negative of the Sith younglings would tell each other of in hushed voices at night. If it wasn't a training saber at her throat, it would have been very easy to believe that this man would kill her right then and there, holding her like a helpless puppet in the air. As it was, that training saber would leave the most painful burn she could imagine...
The little girl swallowed a whimper, and tried to think.
She couldn't move her lightsaber, couldn't break his grip of the Force with her own power, couldn't risk using her teacher's blade without him seeing...As Na'an raised her chin to avoid the approaching blade, she flailed about in search for a new target, any target, to use. Reaching out wildly, the fingers of her mind touched on a familiar surface, then grabbed on tight and Pulled with a power borne of desperation.
Out of the shadows, two of the wobble balls from before hurtled through the dark towards Rutil Iorek. The first one slammed into the back of Rutil's head, then the second.
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Post by The Shepherd on May 10, 2015 14:01:04 GMT -8
Rutil knew what was coming the moment he felt the panicking girl reach out. Ordinarily he would have never let the balls come close; a simple twitch of a mental muscle would have been all it took to stop the wobble balls from hitting their mark, or a simple step would have been all the Zabrak needed to evade the attack. His goal had been to demonstrate that some fights simply could not be won. But while the hammer had to be brought down sooner or later, the ripe old age of nine was not the time to instill that particular lesson. She could let her Master teach her that when she became a Padawan.
If she became a Padawan.
The older Jedi slowly raised his sword hand, flicking the lights to the training hall back on. Wordlessly, he lowered his arm and extended it towards the sprawled youngling, and the saber he had lost shot out of her tunic and into his outstretched palm. He turned on a heel, once again taking his signature slow, heavy footsteps to the training saber case, retrieving his own saber as he placed the borrowed weapon back in its place. With one last look, he turned around and opened the double doors on his side, letting them close behind him.
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Post by Vidalu Na'an on May 10, 2015 16:55:59 GMT -8
Na'an watched with bewilderment as Rutil scowled, then left the training room without a word. Sitting up, she reached for her shoto, cradling it and breathing hard, trying to figure out why at the end her teacher had looked so...disgusted.
She'd done her best, hadn't she? She'd fought right up to the very end--sabers, telekinesis, darkness, the inescapable grasp right at the end, she'd tried to fight against it all. Wasn't that what a Jedi was supposed to do? She pounded the back of her head lightly against the wall, fighting tears of confused frustration. She'd tried so hard--hadn't that been what Rutil Iorek would have wanted from her?
It must not have been good enough. Or maybe she'd overstepped her bounds to even try.
"Stupid."
She smacked her skull against duracrete again, hating herself for crying.
But even so. She'd never seen Rutil Iorek fight someone in the training facilities even partway seriously...as she leaned back against the wall, she thought back to the green-lit terror he had been right at the very end. He hadn't gone all-out then, not even close, but he was once again the best fighter little Na'an had ever seen. If she could see it again--even if it wasn't her he was fighting--she could learn so much. Even if she wasn't a Padawan, she could learn from a Knight like that.
A small, exhausted smile rested on the little girl's face. With a groan, she pushed herself to her feet and turned to open the door she'd came in. Sanat would laugh at her when she came back defeated. But then, that was always how this fight was going to end, wasn't it?
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Corr
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Post by Corr on May 12, 2015 11:04:44 GMT -8
I read this duel as you were writing it and it was thoroughly enjoyable. One of those duels where you log in eagerly to see if there is another post. Great stuff. As for the judgment itself... First of all the setting of the scene and the subsequent use of the environment was brilliant by both of you. The way Rutil showed little mercy and Na'an hopeful optimism at the start were nicely portrayed and true to what I know about both characters. Now I know that there was certain liberties that were considered okay in this duel but I will judge things as if it were an actively competitive contest just so such GBA etiquette can be used it the future. These are by no means cast iron 'rules' but are ways to avoid conflict between writers should inconsistencies between points of view surface. ...letting a surge of energy hit the impetuous child square in the chest and sending her careening towards the closed door...That is technically calling a hit and is frowned upon. I know that Rutil is well able to employ such a move and make it still, and that a nine-year-old is unlikely to be able to do anything about it, but it is usually a case of one writer would write the attack right up until the point where it may or may not hit and then the other writer would call the hit and its effects. If said effects are not judged to have been sufficient (in this case she just drops the shoulder and plows through the Forced Wave) then the judge will, hopefully, pick it up and judge harshly. I know that this can perhaps fragment and disrupt the flow of a story but it is the only way to keep things fair when actively competing. In this case it is non-applicable as it was discussed in chat and you have understanding between you with Na'an continuing with the consequence but I just thought I'd make mention of it. Nice use of environment Na'an, using the balance balls and staying true to the selection of Ataru by being almost constantly on the move. Also good descriptions of applying the Force when cushioning the landing and applying TK. I also like that way Rutil allowed her to force him into igniting his blade. Very realistic of a Master training a student. I would say that perhaps a bit more detail in the direction of the swings could help clarity. Again I know that over descriptive writing can clog the story somewhat, and again its likely not relevant here, but perhaps an added 'right-to-left' or 'at head height' could be squeezed in. The little flurry was brilliant to, the strikes spin and counters from Rutil. Again a hit call but the end with plunging the room into darkness was lovely. The environmental variations of those training rooms are excellent and there to be employed. Making her stretch herself by employing her senses again was a very teacher-like move and true to the story. THe demonstration of power at the end and Na'an refusal to give up despite being overmatched is very good too, again the character development of her in particular in such a short space of time significant. It was always going to be Rutil by standard judging as he is the more powerful character. One could make an argument for the fact that Na'an managed to get hold of her weapon, as well as her giving it as good a go as she could, but it would obviously have been Rutil. By the reasoning of such collaboration as I know existed here, and the inconsistencies with current GBA etiquette (RE hit-calling) it is pretty much impossible to judge normally. With that in mind I am going to award Rutil the win by standard GBA rules but Na'an the win for writing her character to the maximum of her abilities. Sorry for the cop out guys but I really couldn't give that to one and not the other. I am going to call it a draw and demand that you be back to have it out on equal footing. A full on Na'an vs Formy parallel universe match may be worth considering...  Thank you for the awesomeness. x |
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Corr Vhett - puts the "Laughter" in "Manslaughter"..... 
