The Temple, Coruscant, Tuesday
Jul. 9th, 2019 07:27 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
suitably_heroicThere was a restless energy in Atton's body. He'd choose to blame the island for it, that disturbing vibe against that backdrop of ash. It stayed with him as he left the island and returned to the Temple, hungry for something to do.
But the Republic needed him for something later in the week. So he was stuck here now. He'd tried meditating, but he either got too lost in it, or he drifted so close to the Force itself that it spooked him-- spooked Mical, even, who'd shown up to the highest tower of the Temple with worried eyes, asking invasive questions.
And that left him here. In one of the training chambers, running through the Juyo trials that, more and more, were forms of his own invention. Striking at invisible enemies, over and over again, until his muscles screamed and his mind was blank.
"Oh. It's you."
His lightsabers came to a sudden stop, high in the air. "Asida, right?" he said, without looking over his shoulder. "Mira's Padawan."
And then he twisted around, catching her blade between both of his, his foot kicking out against her abdomen. She slammed down against the floor, eyes wide.
"As they say back on Earth, when you come at the king, you better not miss," Atton drawled. His lightsabers shut off with a snap-hiss. He watched the anger - that small flash of hatred - pass across her face, and something cooled in him. The drawl fell away. "Mira's talent was never at the lightsaber," he said. "Get up."
She scrambled to her feet. "Don't you dare talk about her--"
"Shut up," Atton said flatly. "I can't believe Mical's let you run around the place like this for this long, except I can. Pick up your lightsaber. Come at me again." His tone was clipped. Military-style.
Snap-hiss.
She flew at him. He batted her 'saber aside. He shoved her to the ground. "Again," he said, taking a step back.
And again. And again.
At least this felt useful.
[[ nfb, nfi. ]]
But the Republic needed him for something later in the week. So he was stuck here now. He'd tried meditating, but he either got too lost in it, or he drifted so close to the Force itself that it spooked him-- spooked Mical, even, who'd shown up to the highest tower of the Temple with worried eyes, asking invasive questions.
And that left him here. In one of the training chambers, running through the Juyo trials that, more and more, were forms of his own invention. Striking at invisible enemies, over and over again, until his muscles screamed and his mind was blank.
"Oh. It's you."
His lightsabers came to a sudden stop, high in the air. "Asida, right?" he said, without looking over his shoulder. "Mira's Padawan."
And then he twisted around, catching her blade between both of his, his foot kicking out against her abdomen. She slammed down against the floor, eyes wide.
"As they say back on Earth, when you come at the king, you better not miss," Atton drawled. His lightsabers shut off with a snap-hiss. He watched the anger - that small flash of hatred - pass across her face, and something cooled in him. The drawl fell away. "Mira's talent was never at the lightsaber," he said. "Get up."
She scrambled to her feet. "Don't you dare talk about her--"
"Shut up," Atton said flatly. "I can't believe Mical's let you run around the place like this for this long, except I can. Pick up your lightsaber. Come at me again." His tone was clipped. Military-style.
Snap-hiss.
She flew at him. He batted her 'saber aside. He shoved her to the ground. "Again," he said, taking a step back.
And again. And again.
At least this felt useful.
[[ nfb, nfi. ]]
