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Post by Atuna Davinari Lemep on Jul 23, 2014 18:32:40 GMT -8
The GravBall game passed by Atuna with little reaction from him. The only emotions he seemed to feel were concern and amusement. Concern, because even as he was sitting in the sports arena, in relative safety, the outside world was being thrown into a tumult. Amusement, because despite telling him that she knew nothing of sports, Melia seemed to be highly invested in the game she was watching next to him. Her screams of "Take the ball back, Lasebrains!" and "You kriffing morons, that's your teammate!" made him laugh hard enough to forget his worries from time to time. In between bouts of anxiety and fits of giggles, Atuna realized for the first time exactly how he and Melia had made it this far, despite being quite unlikely of a couple. She was everything he wasn't: pretty, outgoing, adventurous, always willing to take risks and try new things. He was cold, often reclusive, willing to forget his adventuring days, and never making any kind of action without thoroughly considering every alternative or outcome.
Her fiery temper also made him uneasy, too. Even the rebellion, the fires, the riots outside could not live up to Melia on a bad day, and he was one of the most accomplished Force users in history. Riots and civil uprising was child's play compared to having a wife be upset at you, even indirectly.
So, when the game was over and Melia's team had lost, as she began to fume, Atuna stood up calmly and looked in the direction of his wife.
"Well, I for one had a great evening."
"...But we lost! It wasn't even close."
"I am not talking about the game. I got to be with you for the whole night. That's longer than most nights, especially since we never seem to be home, ever."
Melia's face dropped. "I... yes, I'm really glad we got to be together tonight, too."
"Shall we get some real food before we go to the hotel, my love?" Atuna motioned to the door and smiled like a dork. The night is young, and we haven't been together in way too long."
"Yes, I agree." Melia tried to keep some form of composure but completely lost it as she started to leave. Atuna waited until she was not looking, then wiped his brow slowly.
"Crisis averted."
-~-~-~-~-~
Walking down the streets of Nubia after dark felt like a sensation that should not be foreboding. Instead, it was; small, often intermittent pillars of smoke would rise from other places in the city. Night-dwellers and tired civilians talked among one another in the dark, thinking their conversations were private. Even in areas that were well lit, the environment of the streets left a horrible feeling in the back of Atuna's thoughts. Melia, however, never seemed to notice, holding Atuna's hand the whole way from the GravBall arena to the restaurant she had recommended.
At the door, she led her husband inside and moved to the server's podium to get a table. Atuna's ears perked instantly when he stepped inside; something new he had not felt yet gained his attention. Even in the chaos of the city, a darker undercurrent flowed freely. He knew that the Sith presence in the galaxy was on the rise, but had they always been here? Had Melia noticed?
"Atuna?"
"Huh?"
"Table's this way."
"Sure. Lead the way."
"What's wrong?"
"Let's sit down first, and then we can talk about it."
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L???? ?o R??
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Post by L???? ?o R?? on Jul 24, 2014 11:36:38 GMT -8
A ronto contre-filet served with purple Gwanda gourd soufflé and paired with Andoan wine.
At my insistence, the meat had been prepared with only the minimum amount of time spend in proximity to heat. And the result was divine. A chillier-than-room-temperature cut with such tenderness that it deformed away from the knife sooner than yield to cutting. Lifting the red morsel to the tongue resulted in a bite of food so creamily smooth that butter itself would have envy. And large, since it is the fruit of a native beast that can only be described as colossal. The gourd soufflé had been a source of some hesitation, but out of respect for the acclaimed dish, I went with the manager's recommendation. At least, if it was terrible, I could disregard the vegetables. But no, it was also a fine accent to the plate. Served in a soft steaming mound, I cut through with my fork to find it more appropriately like a pillow of sweet stringy fruit, sweetened by its own caramelized sugars, and more than amenable to let melt on the tongue before digesting. Raising the wineglass to my lips, I prepared another mouthful of the delectable protein; and, having swallowed that to my satisfaction, let sip a small volume of liquid. I swished it around my mouth twice and swallowed with an intake of air to accentuate the bouquet. What I tasted was, as expected from Andoan wine, very good. Complex in flavor, due no doubt to the mellowness given to it by the barrel-aging process that Ando is famous for, and just barely dry with a steely edge.
I took stock of what lay before me: a steak with two bites taken out, a gourd soufflé cut in half with a nibble gone, and a wineglass with wetted edges.
Forty-five seconds later it had all been devoured.
I slide my stool back from the counter and lean back, catch my knees beneath the black marble, and cross my hands behind my head so that I can lean back and sigh in contentment. What a good meal!
...But this relaxation doesn't last. Before long, I sit back up straight and gaze thoughtfully at nothing in particular. My visage, though, settles on the plates of food still before Tal and Aire. (It was strange, wasn't it, that Aire decided to point at her menu instead of telling the Duros what she wanted?) They notice my attention with a small pause as they continue to wordlessly eat. And my mind wanders.
It wanders towards the lynchpin of all questions.
And yet it is interrupted as the door hisses open again, this time admitting a couple. Instantly I sharpen, because it is clear from his aura that he is no mere being. In fact, as I calmly study him, it becomes even more apparent to me. Not only is he a Forceful, but in fact, from the blindfold band and the way the Force attends his eyes...
"Atuna?"
"Huh?"
"Table's this way."
"Sure. Lead the way."
"What's wrong?"
"Let's sit down first, and then we can talk about it."
The manager was anything but pleased, internally, to attend to them. Melia, having found no server at the podium to accommodate them, was leading Atuna to a table she'd selected without assistance. She was a strong spirit like that. But to her credit, she also saw the three of us eating. So why would the two of them even suspect that the frightened Duros wanted to leave? How were they to know that he was, effectively, being held hostage? More to the point, how would they know that they were adding to his burdens?
Operations expenses had gotten to the point that the manager realized it was more profitable to open only on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. He needed to keep the restaurant open for only a narrow five-hour window, and within that time ensure high table turnover rates. The service staff had been reduced to bare bones, and he did most of the cooking himself.
What precipitated these changes was the sudden increase in property taxes. Just one of the many things that have led to the rioting in the streets. The Duros had to take out a loan from the banks to pay it for the past fiscal year, and now he is struggling to keep up with the interest payments, counting every credit along the way.
And yet, he has a good heart. He is the sort of being who, seeing a man hungry and unable to pay, would give him the same quality meat he served me tonight. So he won't speak up to turn Melia and Atuna away. He won't give Tal, Aire, and me worse service just because we're technically here against his will. A good guy, a marvelous chef, and at his heart an industrious man just trying to make ends meet.
So he comes over and drops a pair of menus in front of them.
"Just let me know if you have any questions, folks. I'll be right back with some waters and silverware."
...At any rate, I assure myself that this guy noticed me, too. I haven't seen it in his demeanor. But it isn't every day that you come across someone else who can use Force Sight.
Looks like this evening might have something interesting in store for me, after all.
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Post by Atuna Davinari Lemep on Jul 25, 2014 17:02:32 GMT -8
Atuna and Melia received their menus with differing amounts of enthusiasm: Melia politely thanked the manager, while Atuna simply nodded and began pretending to scan it. It took Melia a moment to notice, and she smirked despite herself at the sight of her blind husband reading a menu.
"Do you need help?"
"I'm not entirely sure I'm hungry enough to eat just yet, actually," Atuna replied evenly, ignoring her jab. "Snacked too hard at the game."
"You didn't touch anything at the game, either!" Melia protested, her voice unintentionally rising slightly. She paused, realizing she was make a scene, and whispered, "What's with you?"
"Beg pardon?"
"You're pretending to be happy and having a good time. For my sake, I'm sure. Or maybe you are actually happy. But for some reason, the longer you've been here, the weirder you've been acting. What's wrong?"
"This whole planet it wrong. There are riots in the streets, I'm more than aware of some form of Sith presence somewhere on the planet -- where, exactly, I have no clue -- even this restaurant is unnerving."
"Okay, well, I've been here for three days now, and I've not had many problems."
"I would just feel a lot better if we could go home soon, is all."
"Tomorrow morning isn't soon enough for you?"
Atuna's head did not move even slightly, but his lips pushed in on themselves, the way they did when he was looking around a room and noticing things without using his eyes. Melia's glance wandered to the other individuals in the restaurant, but came back to her husband rather quickly. "We'll see."
The manager returned with a pair of glasses of water and some cutlery sets, placed them in front of them, and cleared his throat. "So, what can I prepare for you tonight?"
"I'll start with a cup of coffee, for now. I'm still thinking."
"She'll have the Ronto steak with extra sauce, cooked medium rare with a little bit of singing on the edges, with a side of vegetables lightly steamed, and I'll have your largest bowl of the soup of the day with a half-loaf of lightly toasted bread. Please make sure her coffee is decaf, caffeine gives her headaches, and I know it's close to closing but please brew a new pot. I know it's been hard for you, but that coffee in there is nearly two hours old, and the grains are starting to settle at the bottom."
The Duros manager stared at Atuna, mouth agape, eyes wide, pen a half-inch from a notepad as though he had prepared to take notes. Atuna had not lifted his head from the menu yet, but as he did so, he looked up at the manager, the band over his eyes obscuring his gaze.
"And please alert your other guests that they may eat on my tab."
He handed his menu back to the manager, who took it gingerly, slightly unnerved by the blind man that had just told him, correctly, that his coffee was two hours old. Melia apologized softly as he took her menu and departed more hastily than normal, then glared at her husband.
"I'm not apologizing."
"Must you be such an ass when we're out in public?"
"Melia, if you knew that was going on in the mind of that Duros right now," Atuna said softly, "you probably wouldn't have the guts to say anything at all. I think my unique brand of humor has alleviated some of his other feelings for a short time. Plus, now that he's slightly perturbed, he won't mess up your food."
"You ordered for me..."
"Yeah. Don't lie to the nice man. You knew what you wanted to eat, and he's not having a great day."
"You just know this?"
"I just know a lot of things, Melia. I spent four thousand years trying to know things."
Melia grimaced, not wanting to open that can of worms in the restaurant. She nodded and sighed deeply, staring our the window. Atuna smiled and slumped into his chair slightly.
"I hope the savings account can afford this meal."
"You're joking."
"Of course."
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L???? ?o R??
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Post by L???? ?o R?? on Jul 25, 2014 18:57:56 GMT -8
What a good question!
It was three minutes later. One hundred and eighty long seconds, before the Duros swept along the counter with a ticket in his hand, placing it before me. Words upon the paper, which I read twice before his footfalls brought him before us, bearing the inscription:
Your tab has been paid by the gentleman over there
Coffee was coming to Atuna's table, since it takes just over a minute or so for fresh grounds to steep into a new pot. And I turned to Aire, smiling behind a face of deceit;
"Aire, please; go and retrieve the Yama. Get ready to pick us up."
"..."
Without argument, she stood and walked away; behind her she left a half plate of uneaten food. After passing the threshold of the restaurant's doors, she began to sprint; and then, before long, she was outside the range of my Sight. (Well, Atuna? Is anything really beyond our Sight? We could focus on her, if we wanted. Watch her travel all the way to my ship. Worth it?)
And I...
Well, I sighed again. Gained composure. A gesture of such benevolence deserves a calm countenance. And so I swept Devient, who still laid on the cold counter at my side, into my hand as I rise. Tal remains in his stool silently, unperturbed. That's fine by me. It only has to be me.
Just to say hello.
To say hello to the one who dealt me such a favor. In person.
And so, awkward as it was, unusual as it is (approaching the unknown, I mean), I snagged a chair from one of the nearby tables as I strode over. Its legs drag across the ground, creating a wail as my footsteps approach their table. I, a stranger, being forced to thank this fellow for his generosity. With a flick of the wrist, the chair falls into place: back against the table, halfway between Atuna and Melia. A sharp clatter belies the right position. And, seat facing away from the two of them, I submit myself into its embrace, parting my knees over the seat and crossing my arms over the top and resting my chin upon my forearms, which even now twitch in anticipation, and present them both with my countenance.
And I grin, because although I've eaten my fill, I'm still hungry.
"The meal was delicious, thank you. Very much."
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Post by Atuna Davinari Lemep on Jul 27, 2014 0:05:53 GMT -8
The moment he stood up, bristles went down Atuna's spine. He wondered, as the man picked up a chair and moved his way, if instigating this encounter was a mistake, or was still the interesting opportunity he had perceived it to be originally. Melia seemed to grow uneasy too, visibly and emotionally.
"The meal was delicious, thank you. Very much."
"Of course. Some of my best friends I met by paying for their meals. And, further, I'd hate to see this restaurant go out of business."
Atuna's head turned to the kitchen briefly, then to Melia, who gave him a strange look that he could not see. He smiled reassuringly at her, then readdressed his guest.
"My name is Atuna Lemep. I'm a historian and a librarian. This is my wife, Melia. She's a seamstress and a dressmaker."
She nodded meekly. "Hello."
"We just came from the GravBall arena, which we almost missed because the trains went down. I'm absolutely sure you have no idea what happened on that front, though."
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Jul 27, 2014 3:24:08 GMT -8
If they were nothing else, these Death Commando's were loyal as hell, since they would willingly march to the gates of the underworld with a smile on their faces. It was a sentiment that Krokh knew he would never share with these cousins of his, whom had been twisted by their Master for his own purposes, a trick that perhaps he might one day learn. He sheathed the Boomerang before getting out his datapad and brought up the co-ordinates of where the HMAS Australia was currently located in orbit
=Krokh DuhnDe=
We'll meet you there...
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L???? ?o R??
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Post by L???? ?o R?? on Jul 28, 2014 15:47:11 GMT -8
The smile does not slip from my face, even as the passive accusation is hung in the air between us.
Well...having a vested interest in this restaurant, Atuna surely recognized that we were here after hours. Perhaps that's what brought his suspicions to the surface, ready to boil at the slightest disturbance. Heh.
"My name is Lapay no Ryu."
"A historian-librarian, mm? It wasn't too long ago since I went to visit the one on Coruscant, but that was just a pleasure trip." No one died, that time. It was not like when we had gone to the museum...which had had another incident a little bit like the train station.
"But more importantly, the trains went down, you say? That's a pain, we'll have to find another way to get to the spaceport, then. Do they know who is responsible?"
In the background, a holovid screen is displaying a marquee describing the supposed Rodian perpetrator and his dioxis equipment, with the request that anyone with information come forward to the police. The corners of my mouth twitch a bit wider. There's no way I haven't seen the news.
I wonder what it is about deceit that makes it so attractive that even Yoda would-- with accuracy-- pin them as one of the key aspects of the fallen Dooku's character after his public emergence as a Sith Lord. What is it, do you suppose, that makes me want so much to compel Atuna and Melia to believe that I had not even read the screen which had been focused on this event for the past hour? That I had not heard from the manager why it was that we were the only ones in the restaurant up until a few minutes ago?
The purpose deceit serves is always to create a disparity between those who know the truth and those who merely think they know it, with the former at an advantage. But in such a situation, what good does it do me? Am I actually nervous, attempting to clutch tightly onto whatever advantage I possibly can? I would hope that the massive grin sprawled across my face like a drunken toddler would dissuade you from reaching that conclusion. (Though, while we're on the topic of deceit, I guess it would only be fair to suggest that it could be a bluff. It's not, but it could be.) Am I afraid that I will be handed over to the authorities? How trite.
I ask this question because I do not actually know the answer. The advantage, if any, that I seek to gain by lying here is so little that it cannot be why. Practice, practice for when it's necessary, might stand up as a reason. But practicing with poor technique only worsens things overall. Perhaps I want it to be discovered; but what good does that do for me? Could it be that I lie instinctively? Or just for the fun of it?
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Post by Atuna Davinari Lemep on Jul 31, 2014 17:16:14 GMT -8
Atuna shook his head.
"I wouldn't know," he replied simply. "I've been on Nubia for less than six hours. The incident occurred while I was leaving the spaceport."
"One of my clients called me during the game, to check on me," Melia interjected. "He said it was a gas attack, but the news says it could have been a terrorist operation. Could have been both, I guess."
"Huh. I didn't hear about that."
An awkward silence overtook the conversation, and Melia looked down at her glass of water in discomfort. Atuna was like a statue, his gaze eternally locked in the direction of Lapay no Ryu. Inwardly, every instinct in him told him to leave. This man was clearly not the kind of person he could trust right away. His clever smile, his innocent demeanor; it was unsettling. Regardless, Atuna's outward appearance was that of hospitality and warmth. He had nothing to hide and, much more importantly, nothing to fear, from this man. Atuna was not a man of secrets anymore, and was more than willing to share his thoughts and feelings with Lapay no Ryu. A simple probing - and, indeed, Atuna could sense his new acquaintance was Force sensitive - would reveal anything he wanted to know about himself, but if this man had his own secrets to keep, then he would choose to respect it.
"So... may I call you Ryu? And are you a resident of Nubia?"
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L???? ?o R??
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Post by L???? ?o R?? on Aug 1, 2014 18:12:08 GMT -8
"Yes, feel free to just call me Ryu."
It was nice of him to ask.
"I'm no resident; in fact, I think I've been on the planet only a hair longer than you."
Friendly and simple, those are the words that best describe the conversation between us. It is, in my opinion, well worth it to shift to a higher gear at this point. More on that to come, though-- what I am still trying to figure out about Atuna is the basic identity of his character. A man who is always smiling isn't to be trusted, this is a basic principle that even children know. Melia gets it; she stiffened at the very instant I came to the table and even now stares very pointedly at her water. Atuna, on the other hand, is the very picture of relaxed. Beyond the outward appearances, surely he must see the truth a little more clearly than most. And yet his deep green aura is serene. His face remains stoic, beholding me. Is the unsettling one him or me?
So I want to solve the puzzle: is it that I have given him too much credit? Or is it the recognition (which takes both wisdom and self-control) that to give in to fear accomplishes nothing?
Or is it, and perhaps this is the most sinister possibility at all, that he thinks I am not able to match him in a contest of power?
After all, have you ever looked into the eyes of a wild animal and been certain that it would not try to attack you?
The analogy is admittedly imperfect. But by the same coin, beings such as ourselves are by no means tame.
"I've heard it said that it is easier to share one's innermost secrets with a complete stranger, because it seems unlikely that strangers would encounter each other by chance twice. So if you'll permit, Atuna, I'll ask you this question which the man who adopted me once posed: What is the current target of your obsession?"
It is a nice question, because it implicitly asks the recipient to explain it thoroughly. And a thorough explanation is easy to give, since it has been the recipient's focus as of late. Although--
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Post by Atuna Davinari Lemep on Aug 2, 2014 11:47:52 GMT -8
Atuna seemed to ponder the question for a moment before breathing out a heavy sigh.
"For as long as I can remember, all I've done is accumulate knowledge. I guess you could say I'm at the stage of my life where I'm done searching, and now I'm looking to make that knowledge accessible again. I've been busy making arrangements to expedite the construction of my library. When that's done, I want to retire in peace and take care of my family."
A smile crept onto Melia's face as she continued to examine her glass.
"My motives and my dreams have changed so many times over my lifetime. I used to aspire to be stronger, so I could crush anyone who opposed me, or to defend those I cared about. I've also always wanted to unlock every secret, open every door and chest, explore every world. Never once did I dream I would stop. I'm just happy to have something I can share for all my troubles."
Atuna's nonexistent gaze remained fixated on Ryu.
"So, under normal circumstances, I'd turn the question around on you. But I think I'm not quite as interested in what you want, but instead, let me ask if there is anything else I can do for you? Anything else you want to know, about me or anything else."
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Arn Hart
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Post by Arn Hart on Aug 2, 2014 17:43:07 GMT -8
“Next time, Jedi.” Krae shouted at Nemo, before disengaging his lightsaber and heading back towards Krokh and his new friends. “I think we’ve made our mark here. Let’s make tracks.”
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Arn and Grav finally reached the building that they had been heading for, just as Two was leaving. Gravicus stopped in his tracks to give her a thorough looking over as she emerged from the parted group of mildly armed rioters. Arn was about to pass them all when he turned back to see what was holding Gravicus up. “Oh, come on, Bro. Tell me that’s not eye catching.” Grav said, defending his ogling. Arn sighed, and then took a glance at the fellow Twi’lek. She did, in fact, catch his eye, but for a very different reason than Grav. “That’s interesting.” he spoke to himself, as he placed a hand on his blade handle, and subtly started to follow her. Grav had no idea what they were doing now, but he shrugged his shoulders and tagged along anyway.
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Darth Belial
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"The difference between gods and daemons largely depends upon where one is standing at the time."
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Post by Darth Belial on Aug 6, 2014 7:52:04 GMT -8
And so, with four simple words, his star spanning task had finally come one step closer to its conclusion. The Death Commando restrained his overwhelming desire to smile, as he knew that bringing this man and his companion to the Master would bring great honour upon his name and family. Perhaps an elevation in standing would come along with such success, but until these esteemed guests and he returned to Wayland; the Death Commando would never know.
After he had remembered the proffered coordinates, the Noghri assassin once again blended into the shadows. With the darkness encompassing him like a forlorn lover, he and his pack vanished into the depths of the city. Unseen as they stalked through the city streets, it was nearly several minutes and nearly thirteen city blocks later, that the modest throng had beckoned their transport from mist shrouded skies.
When the craft had touched down in the empty streets, the Noghri boarded the shuttle and bunkered down within as the vessel dusted off. Subsequently, the void shielded transport rose back into the transitory mists and into the atmosphere thereafter.
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Aug 10, 2014 2:06:32 GMT -8
Krokh gave a nod to the Death Commando's as the melded back into the shadows, before pocketing his datapad and turning towards Krae, nodding in response to the Devaronian's comment. He lead the way back along several streets before they found a cabbie that was waiting for passangers, whom Krokh quickly convinced to take them to the spaceport. It was a short trip and before long, Krokh was starting up The Tinnie's engines and piloting the yacht up into orbit towards the HMAS Australia
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L???? ?o R??
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Post by L???? ?o R?? on Aug 14, 2014 11:52:00 GMT -8
Atuna's words, though soft in volume, rang out with an intensity unmatched by his voice. As the clanging reverberation rattles the bones when a bit of metal is struck by a hammer, their meaning shook me. A coldness settled within my guts, as if the weight he spewed forth latched onto my bowels, and after a split-second too short to prepare, were suddenly dropped into an abyss. A slap to the face from a near-total-stranger that simply could not be ignored.
I, too, remained silent for a time as I pondered my response. It felt like a heavy silence...almost as if half a month itself went by. But no, merely seconds...and then the smile slipped from my mouth as I dare to open my mouth and begin reprimand this man who I met just moments ago.
"How disappointing." A voice deep inside calls at me to stop, to leave things as they were, that I might be walking into a trap. But I ignore this voice called caution, a thing I used to pay great heed to; for if it is indeed such, then let me spring his trap.
"Anything else I want to know about you? Yes, I've got some questions. You used to aspire to more strength? Who told you to stop, that it should be said in the past tense? How can you speak so placidly about your imminent decay? Or do you have all this knowledge that you've spent your life acquiring only to lack the wisdom to realize that upon your so-called 'retirement' you are no better than dead? Rather, we should perhaps call your death the very moment that your goal to become stronger flickered out."
No better way to sober my demeanor than to despise the pursuit of power in my presence. Tal did it, a couple of days back on Kamino, and there were harsh words exchanged then, too. And the coldness in my voice reached its sheerest level now, as the following tumbled past my lips to the utter dismay of that cautious conscience within:
"There is no limit to growth; the idea that you can wake one morning and have gotten 'far enough' with your strength is a lie. You seem like a good man-- and your desire to share your knowledge with others is commendable. But do you not realize that it is unending? To set a finish line on your dream is to cast it before the Gamorreans. If what you would share with the future generations of this universe comes borne upon the ideal that there is only to get 'so strong' before you need not push further, then all you have accumulated is pernicious falsehoods. It would be better for you to be destroyed and all of your knowledge to perish with you than for those who come after us to become victims of following your misconducted life."
It was spoken loudly enough that all present at the restaurant could hear it. Immediately after saying it, a tingle grew beneath my skin: cold, but glowing nonetheless. It is that feeling, which caution reminded me once more of, that I may have overstepped my bounds. Or perhaps that this lecture would be rebounded on me twice over. Feh-- as if! For there is no justification to life beyond growth; at the moment you stop getting stronger, or more powerful, or more knowledgeable, or what have you, there is only the end of your life to look forward to. It is only decline. Thus, the ideal of freedom is this: that it must be larger than you can accomplish before your death, so that your life is to struggle towards it and grow stronger along the way, transcending into godhood as you do, beyond what any other mortal could wish to be; and then die at the peak of what you could become.
Such is the truth and the tragedy of the chosen ones.
The tingle of anticipation warmed my skin. Could it even be confused for glee? At the same time, my icy fury welled within. I could not be sure whether I imagined it or not, but I thought I saw Tal slowly tilt his head in approval.
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Post by Atuna Davinari Lemep on Aug 14, 2014 14:30:04 GMT -8
Atuna, completely unphased, leaned casually back into his chair.
"You misunderstand. 'Growth' can come in many forms, but your ultimatum seems to imply that growth is strictly personal. I disagree. I strive for growth still; and in fact, more so now than ever before. When once all I searched for was answers, now I've achieved an epiphany I cannot ignore. When one spends millenia answering the great questions of the universe, seeking power, learning secrets, that same 'one' must stop and ask why. Why do we search? We do we seek power, seek answers? When I was young... which wasn't all that long ago, I never knew the answer to that question. Specifically, I didn't have a question. Answers are meaningless without questions."
"I devoted my entire existence to the Force. I sought its will, I sought the great mysteries of it. Why? I never knew. But I believe that, now, I do know. For the longest time I was an agent to a higher calling, but I've been freed from that contract. The Force granted me one last moment of clarity, where my life's direction was meant to go. Since that day, I've begun the groundwork for a massive library, and archive of all the knowledge I've obtained. I've gotten married, and have four wonderful kids, three of whom are grown and one infant. They are all splendid, two of them are Jedi themselves, and I love my whole family with all of my heart."
"That is what I am meant to grow. I have spent over four thousand years growing only myself. I want everyone around me, all of my family and friends, and those who will come after me, to grow. Personal growth is a wonderful thing, and you are right: there is no upper limit for personal growth. But doesn't the pursuit of something infinite seem a bit fruitless? At the end of your life, what will people remember of you? All those battles you fought, all those neat parlor tricks you picked up, all the money you never spent? Or will they remember the sacrifices you made, the memories of time spent together, the teaching you gave them? To become so great that you are remembered for your personal growth is nothing to scoff at, but it is not what I want anymore."
"And... so we're perfectly clear." Atuna leaned back up again and cleared his throat. "I'm not you, and you're not me. Let's not pretend our standards will fit each other. I've been a Sith, I've been a Jedi, and I've been neither and both. Rules, ideals, codes of conduct. They are not universal."
Atuna's head spun around on his shoulders, eliciting a series of horrifying cracking noises that made Melia cringe.
"And don't insult Gamorreans. They're people too."
Melia giggled slightly at the comment, which caused Atuna's lips to peel back and reveal his teeth in a smile.
"Sorry if I have offended you tonight, my friend. I'm sure you disagree with me on a few points, and I'd love to hear your counterpoints. It is as they say, one cannot grow without first eliminating what hinders you, and it is much easier for someone else to see your flaws than for you to see them yourself."
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Atia
Member
Posts: 1,232
Affiliation: Nightsisters of Dathomir
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Post by Atia on Aug 16, 2014 10:14:45 GMT -8
“Next time, Jedi.” Krae shouted at Nemo, before disengaging his lightsaber and heading back towards Krokh and his new friends. “I think we’ve made our mark here. Let’s make tracks.”
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Arn and Grav finally reached the building that they had been heading for, just as Two was leaving. Gravicus stopped in his tracks to give her a thorough looking over as she emerged from the parted group of mildly armed rioters. Arn was about to pass them all when he turned back to see what was holding Gravicus up. “Oh, come on, Bro. Tell me that’s not eye catching.” Grav said, defending his ogling. Arn sighed, and then took a glance at the fellow Twi’lek. She did, in fact, catch his eye, but for a very different reason than Grav. “That’s interesting.” he spoke to himself, as he placed a hand on his blade handle, and subtly started to follow her. Grav had no idea what they were doing now, but he shrugged his shoulders and tagged along anyway.
What she did do was zigg-zagg between the smaller groups. She wasnt so keen on persuers, people were looking for someone with a sniper rifle, or without it, and not with an umbrella.
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L???? ?o R??
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Posts: 159
Affiliation: The Way of Lapay
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by L???? ?o R?? on Aug 19, 2014 6:26:38 GMT -8
...where to begin the rebuttal?
I suppose it's best to start at the beginning.
"To suggest that growth is anything but personal means that you are looking beyond yourself, by definition. This version of growth falls under the category of 'goals'. But it cannot happen without the type of growth which falls under the category of 'means'. No 'goals' that you can set are achievable without the 'means' with which to accomplish them.
The Sith have a terminology for this; 'goals' are 'freedom' and 'means' are 'power'. If you recall the Sith Code, which you must have somewhere within your repository of knowledge, you can see the truth that is evident just from this much.
But if you want a practical proof, consider this: you cannot focus on anyone else's growth before you have focused on your own. All your knowledge, as you put it, has reached an epiphanic level. Very good! But I submit to you that you could have striven to enlighten the universe as you do now, and had you done so before you learned anything, then you would be ridiculed. To translate this back to the Sith phrase, your knowledge is a form of power. You must acquire even more power than before if you want to reach the freedom to teach.
This, then, is why I call you lacking: you have the idea that there is some line of 'sufficient' knowledge. This means that you also limit the amount that someone can learn from you. If you want a truly respectable ideal, you will continue to learn-- continue to increase your power, since knowledge is a form of power-- until the day you die. There will, eventually, come along someone who has more capacity for knowledge than you. Long off in the future, perhaps, or possibly even before you join the incorporeal Force. It is only to your dishonor to willfully do nothing to decrease the disparity; instead, present them with your best, and honor the future with a proper effort.
Become so great, not for your power to be remembered, but the freedom you used it to exercise. It is the freedom that is remembered, and like power it takes many different forms, so your freedom should be of such magnificence that you are unable to completely realize it.
You aren't me, and I'm not you; this is true. But what is also true is that The Truth does not attend the individual. Unpleasant; so be it. Despair-inducing; so be it. Joy-inspiring; so be it. That which a man tells himself need not have any relation to what is actually there. This universe is larger than Jedi, Sith, Dark, Light, me, you. So to you, Atuna, I say that your perspective ought to still be as if you were a child peering deep into the well, and then striving to describe what he sees to adults.
At the moment when you begin to think yourself adequate, despite the veracity, you will no longer flourish. It does not do a man good to consider that he has actually grown up.
And it is because you will impart knowledge to others that it is so perilous for you to live contrary to The Truth. By your example, the less powerful will be deceived, to their folly. If you, Atuna, are the most knowledgeable being in the universe, for all of time before and for all eternity to come, then perhaps there is no problem. But if you acknowledge the existence of a being who may come to greater knowledge, then you have committed a flaw; and the fraction of a percentile that you refuse to strive to become qualified to teach to will become for those who follow after you a greater fraction, and then a full percentile, and then a quartile. Like ripples in a pond, though the initial splash is almost imperceptible, through the passage of time the ramifications will be profound.
You must not perceive yourself at any point as a candidate to retire.
If it were not you, I would say nothing and watch your error devour you. But you are one of the significant ones. Though Gamorreans are people, they are so mundane as to be unfit of the life that they have, with possible individual exception. And this species is not the only one for which it is true. All members of all races must have a validity to them in order to deserve existence, and this is where I describe to you my own version of 'freedom':" My voice, here, loses the coldness. An optimistic shimmer flies through my vocal chords as if I play an instrument, building part-by-part what to me is the symphony of beauty in this universe. "That only those capable of appreciating the gift of life continue to receive it. The qualification to 'appreciate' is the ability to transcend beyond what we might call the 'standard'. In other words, I aim to raise the standards of living in this universe to a higher level. And all those who cannot exist at the higher level must not drag the rest down with them. I will test world upon world; and those who would rise up to the challenge shall be deemed worthy, it is as simple as that. So in the cultivation of this new era of life, I have a working title."
"Get stronger or die."
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Post by Atuna Davinari Lemep on Aug 26, 2014 8:02:05 GMT -8
Atuna thought for a moment, then shrugged.
"Your perfect world seems to be the culmination of the Sith philosophy. The strong survive and the weak either adapt or die; is that fair to say is what you believe? I'm not in a position to tell you that's wrong, but I would point you to several millennia of Sith infighting and near-extinction that would suggest that, perhaps, that system has yet to be perfected. I wish you luck with that, however, and I will heed what you have said. For the time being, I have decided to maintain what I have acquired thus far, and focus on raising the family I've started. Then, once that's been properly handled, perhaps I will continue... 'growing,' so that those after me suffer nothing but their own failures."
After he said this, he relaxed into his booth and sighed.
"Perhaps we have both grown just from this conversation. And, my, it consumed a lot of time, too. Our food's nearly ready. I can smell it from here. Feel free to join us for the meal, if you have nowhere else to be."
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L???? ?o R??
Member
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Affiliation: The Way of Lapay
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Post by L???? ?o R?? on Sept 2, 2014 12:59:47 GMT -8
I take a slow breath in through my nose. Although this was more of an expression of dissatisfaction, I must admit...he's right about the food coming. At least he acknowledges that he might continue to pay attention to his growth. And yet, this nagging remains. This feeling that I shouldn't leave it alone, but I also shouldn't press further. What shall I do..?
"The culmination of Sith philosophy? That's probably true. I submit to you that it is also the culmination of the Jedi philosophy...once all the culling has finished. And the culling exists only so that there is good reason to get stronger. To fight. To transcend the mortal limits and metamorphose into something...more beautiful..."
My thoughts settle. The culling, indeed. Get stronger or die, indeed. This ought to be where it begins.
"But I also think you're ignoring the differences between mine and the traditional Sith system. Actually, I think you ought to have seen by now that I'm quite unlike your normal Sith."
This is how it starts. To steel the self and to act with what must be done. Ignore the pitiful, draw conflict from the supreme. And here he is, sitting right in front of me. Should I shrivel now? Retreat from my self-proclaimed duty?
"And I might add, your very response begs to be turned upon itself. Do you think that several millennia without so complete a library as you wish to build is any reason to stop your own aspiration? The fact that no one has done it right yet is all the more reason to persevere."
How worthless a god am I if I propose a solution but fail to act! --
--And the repulsion at the thought of inaction begins to stir inside me. Around this feeling I take root, and the Force responds in like turn. Yes, it agrees with me, or else why would it listen to my urging? I need its strength for this next little bit of time.
And Atuna, I suspect, can see. Will see. See the reinforcement of my aura as I prepare myself.
Force Reflex is the form it will take. A supernatural sharpening of the nerves, muscles, perceptions, movements. There are many alive who can use this power to greater effect than I can. Or its cousin, Force Speed. Atuna might well be one of these practitioners; no way to find out until I find out. This power is one that is very popular among the dueling types because of its versatility. And perhaps that's why I haven't taken it as far as some others have: because versatility is a quality I have in abundance, emphasized in all aspects of who I am and how I fight.
I will seize the advantage as long as Atuna lets this happen. Another desirable quality of Reflex is the fact that it itself does not attack or defend. It affects the user, not the opponent, which automatically makes it more difficult to deal with. It's harder to detect-- yet, this is probably not true of Atuna. Force Sight is wonderful for that sort of thing-- and, once its benefits take effect, harder still to counter.
It has not yet become active. Yet, as these thoughts flash through my mind, I am drawing to myself the power of the Force which will make it for me a reality before long. And then, my concerns will all be put to rest.
The only friend I have brought with me is Devient. I took her over here when I swept her from the countertop, and even now she is in my right hand, where she's been this whole time. Tal guards the rest, stowed within the trenchcoat, folded over the stool, over there at the counter. He will not join in, I suspect-- my fight, after all. And Aire, by this time, has reached the ship. Too far away to matter for the critical moments-- which are now.
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Post by Atuna Davinari Lemep on Sept 2, 2014 17:28:56 GMT -8
"Tsk. Seriously? Right now, with our food coming?"
"Atuna?"
"It's fine, Melia." Atuna stood up suddenly and shook back his coat. "It would seem we're leaving, though."
"I... okay."
Melia slowly stood up from her chair and looked up at Atuna. He was nearly as tall as Ryu, but stood him down nonetheless. She had never witnessed him so rigid before, so completely resolute. As she gathered her belongings and started for the door, he did not move a muscle.
As she was leaving, Atuna's metaphorical gaze did not waver from Ryu. He spoke softly and sincerely, and his stance was not threatening or off-putting, but did convey a sense of resolve.
"I'm sorry we could not come to an understanding," he muttered.
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