Log:Jedi Order: A Seaside Lesson
Meditations on Movement, the Force, and Failure
OOC Date: April 26, 2022 (Optional)
Location: Delaya
Participants: Aryn Cortess as GM, Ban Iskender, Nora Frayus
RP Rating and Summary
RP Rating: PG Summary: On the Delayan shore, Aryn Cortess trains a young Jedi Initiate on how to use the force to enhance one's movements. The trial proves to be more than an exercise in kinetics, however, when the fear and embarrassment of failure begin to effect the trainee's judgement and mental clarity. Mastering the Force is a long and difficult path, after all.
Log
[ Aryn Cortess (AC)]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
In a war camp outside a small village, the forces intended to liberate Delaya of its usurping witch reside with sights set to Last Light. It is the eve of a battle, and Lord Ty has departed with a small crew to commandeer a ship that's made port in the town over. If there is to be any luck, they will have a vessel for the voyage to the Killesa keep within the next few days, provided the young Lord proves his mettle.
Among the good number of troops making camp are the three Alderaanian Jedi. Aryn has led them from the camp to meet a small group of squires and a familiar knight most of Alderaan knew by reputation, Lars Syrush. "Sir," Aryn greets kindly, then regards the squires assembled who all hold buckets of water (or have them set on the ground beside them).
Ser Lars bows, as do the Squires, in response. "How might we assist you this day, your grace?"
"I have a mind to train some techniques. Though doing so would be an infraction against New Republic law. Should any here hold reservations against such, I ask they speak their mind now ere we proceed."
There is a brief silence, during which Lars looks along the line of faces who appear resolute. "I believe I speak for all when I say.. we are with you, Princess."
Aryn nods, "I am relieved to hear it, sir. I am certain you all know Lord Ban.. and Lady Nora.." Aryn gestures to the pair.
[ Ban Iskender (ban)]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
An infraction against New Republic law? "We are all loyal and law-abiding citizens, Highness. Surely these goodly soldiers will partake in no religious ceremonies," Ban notes, with a dryly amused edge to his familiar stoicism. A curt dip of the head to Ser Lars, and his green regard acknowledges the others assembled as the dragoon looks to Aryn to hear what their daily training shall be.
[ Nora Frayus (Nora)]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Nora Frayus follows alongside Lord Ban Iskender and Princess Aryn Cortess, her eyes turned towards the sea. She's always loved the smell of salt in the ocean air, but only recently has she begun to truly appreciate it. The warm breeze and the beauty of Delaya. A unique context that only traveling the galaxy with the Jedi Order could have provided. Has it humbled her somewhat?
Jury is still out on that one.
When they arrive in front of Ser Lars and his squires, Nora offers the man a soft smile accompanied by a gentle bite on her bottom lip. A universal sort of expression, that. Her left hand rests on the grip of the sword at her hip. A habitual sort of grasp, far more than a defensive one.
"Charmed as always, Ser Lars. And look at your tidy row of soldiers," Nora says, "Positively ship-shape." Her words are accompanied by a brief dip of her head, but Lady Frayus has never been one to stand on formality, pomp, or ceremony, and has been a lifelong thorn in her Father's side for the fact.
"Your discretion is appreciated, gentlemen," she says with a soft giggle.
[ Aryn Cortess (AC)]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
"Ceremonies, no," Aryn says with a chuckle. "As the Force is no religion; it is not of the Mother or Father which we all worship. The Force is something else entirely, and to personify it is a practice in vanity for which I lack the patience. Suffice to say the Force /is/ what it is, and our command of it is as random as our births, for we could not dictate whether we wanted it or not."
Aryn moves to one side, standing beside the First Sword whose stance is not unlike Nora's own, a casual hand resting upon the pommel of his sword. "Our exercise this day regards our physical strength and ability to move. A Jedi's strength flows with the Force, and should be the power which you draw on to accomplish more than any other ordinary person."
Aryn walks through the gauntlet of two rows of squires each holding a bucket of water. They are not aligned parallel, but staggered and numbered ten in total. "Before you is this aisle of men and women whom I have asked to arm themselves with a bucket of water. Their instruction is to hit any person passing through this aisle with the contents of their bucket. Your purpose is to pass between them unmolested, and faster than they have time to react."
"To do such requires a measure of focus. The Force is more than a presence of mind, it extends to your perception, to your muscles and bones, saturating them with its presence so that it enhances what you are doing. Observe."
Aryn leaves the center of the aisle to stand at the front (presumably), unclipping her cape and allowing it to fall. She gives a nod of her head to Lars, who speaks up, "Ready your buckets!"
When all looked prepared, Aryn squared up and kicked off. At first, she looked like any person running. Her arms pumped for momentum, she leaned forward, and the squires at the front readied their bucket with no hesitation in mind to lob what contents it contained into the Princess' face. Except, a moment after, Aryn had passed them before they could even get the water out of the bucket, and the blur that was the Princess made it to the end of the gauntlet and turned to observe as the squires hurled the contents of their buckets at open air.
Her gaze lifts back toward Ban and Nora, brow perking like she was saying (without saying it) 'See?'
"Refill your buckets, lads. Too slow!" Lars says with a chuckle, appearing nonchalant in the face of all the surprised looks on the soldiers' faces. They go to the shore to 'reload' and return to their spots. "Who is next?" Aryn asks, walking back toward Lars and the others slowly.
[ Ban Iskender (ban)]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Ban Iskender bends at the waist to recover Aryn's dropped cape, habitually folding it and setting it aside so that the signature garment does not catch the errant water or mud that is sure to result from the next several minutes. Once he has set aside Aryn's cap, the gentleman chooses to keep his own cape on, handicapping himself slightly, as it gives the squires a slightly larger target. With a short bow of his head and shoulders aside to Nora, "By your leave, my lady," he voices evenly, giving a matching bow to Aryn at the far side, and intoning to the assembled squires, "Stand ye ready?" A short nod, and the gentleman dashes forward in a blink. Some might even struggle to throw their buckets at all, before Ban stands beside Aryn at the far end, cape flouring with the momentum of the past moment.
[ Nora Frayus (Nora)]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Nora watches Aryn drop her cape with a tip of her head. She, in turn, reaches up to lower the blood red scarf from the top of her head to wrap around her shoulders. A shake of Nora's head back and forth sees that straight, lush pink hair flick this way and that in the salty ocean breeze. "Mmmmmmh," she says in acknowledgement to Ban, watching Aryn and him rush forward and avoid the splishing and the splashing of the buckets of water. "Ah. As simple as that," she says, waiting for the men to fill up their buckets and taking a deep breath. She considers, a moment, the idea of running. How the movements of her body might enhance her connection with the Force. How the Force might move her arms and legs in some sort of way that enhances the natural pace that has been ingrained in her since her youth.
In other words, she overthinks it.
She takes her first step, and that form is already wrong. She sort of hitches in her first step off the block and is immediately punished with an ice cold splash of water over her body.
"Aiiiieee!" she shrieks, eyes wide at the poor Young Squire who had dumped the bucket on her.
"I... I'm sorry, m-my lady! I thought!"
"Hmmmmph!" Nora huffs, wide-eyed. She flicks water from her fingertips and sprints again. This time, able to quickly dash through the buckets faster than they can toss them at her. Still wet, though.
[ Aryn Cortess (AC)]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
"Well done, my Lord," Aryn says to Ban who passes the exercise with more grace than even she demonstrated. When Nora starts next, Aryn says, "She is over thinking it." This observation is just based off Nora's expression. The result triggers a mumbled, "How unfortunate," from Aryn who steps to one side in preparation for Nora's arrival. "A partial success, but you are too much in your own mind. Ban, would you share your process with Nora? How is it you find focus in the Force, drawing from it and using it to move."
Aryn nods to Lars then, who claps once more for the team to collect buckets of water, 'reloading' and preparing for the next victim. Ser Lars, ever the gentleman, brings a towel to Lady Nora, quietly offering it with a neutral expression on his face. He could not judge, because he lacked even the most rudimentary understanding of the power which Nora could sense and use.
Nearby, Aryn dons her cape once more, collecting it from where Lord Ban had set it.
[ Ban Iskender (ban)]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Ban Iskender nodded slightly to Aryn's observation, once eye flickering briefly more narrow as Nora took a direct dousing. He had reached to the knot that bound his half cape over one shoulder when but when Lars steps forward with a towel for Nora, the dragoon's hand is lowered. When asked to describe his process, the gentleman draws a slow breath to order his thoughts. "I consider it much the same as learning to throw a stone, or aim an arrow: focus not on the rock, or the arrow.. Do not dwell upon the specific steps between, but fix thy focus upon the mark. The destination deserves your every focus, with that held firmly in mind, all paths shall bring you there."
[ Nora Frayus (Nora)]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Nora arrives at the far end of the water-bucket gauntlet slightly more damp and significantly more irritated about that fact. She flicks water from her fingertips, but has the presence of mind to -look- grateful when Ser Lars hands her the towel. She dabs it on herself with another annoyed breath from her lungs and hands it back to Lars who, if he's at all amused by the wet Lady's conundrum, he's gentleman enough to not show it. Ban's feedback is polite, even, insightful and courteous, but Lady Nora's blood is running a touch hot.
"Yes, My Lord. I am quite capable of running," Nora says. She looks at her palms and places both hands on her hips. Thick strands of pink hair have collected on her forehead, matted together and against her freckled skin. The heat in her tone cools a touch and she looks back over her shoulders towards the men beginning to 'reload' their armaments of water to splash on her.
"It comes so naturally to everyone else," she says, "Some days, I feel as if this gift does not wish me to have it." For a moment, it might seem as if a bit of Nora Frayus shines through the veil. But then she's off -- at a start, sprinting down the gauntlet. It looks better, this attempt. Not perfect, by any means. But better. Until the end, where that same Young Squire manages to get her with his bucket AGAIN.
"My Lady, I swear, I do not mea--!" he apologizes.
"You! Tell me, has House Frayus scorned your own? What have I done to deserve such treatment, Ser?!" she says through laughter. Walls up.
"N-n-nothing My Lady! I am just quite keen with a bucket, I suppose!"
"Quite keen indeed."
[ Ban Iskender (ban)]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Ban Iskender dips his head gracefully at Nora's mild snap. Her moment of lament that it feels as if the gift does not wish to be had, the gentleman adds, simply, "The gift wishes nothing, my lady, but I am familiar with the feeling." The gentleman doesn't laugh as Nora does upon confronting the troublesome final squire once again, though he does offer with a hint of dry amusement, "I begin to suspect your ladyship is fond of the experience. The day is a warm one."
[ Nora Frayus (Nora)]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Nora is in the process of ringing out one of the deep, ruby red sashes she has tied around her waist free of water when Ban arrives at the far end of the gauntlet. It splatters onto the cobblestones at their feet in a wet ribbon. She re-tightens it, cinching that tunic that she's fashioned into a bit of a dress around her waist once more. Nora Frayus, scandalizing both the Jedi Order and Alderaanian sensibilities simultaneously. Now there is a gift that comes naturally.
Ban's wit is as dry and as graceful as ever. He earns a half smile from Nora and a playful lift of her shoulders. "Mmmm, you know boys. Always flirting," she says, a playful and disarming smile given to the Squire. It makes him blush and stammer some nonsense as Nora walks back towards the starting line, seemingly ready to take on the trial once again. "Do it again, and I'll throw you from the top of that retaining wall," she says. The squire laughs, but double checks with Ban nervously. She's joking, right?
Despite her failures, however, Lady Frayus seems ready to try again, and again, and again. Until she gets it right.
[ Aryn Cortess (AC)]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
"Lamenting and frustration add little to the sails of progress, Lady Nora. Do or do not, there is no try. I echo the words of Master Yoda. Set aside these emotions, they do you no favors. Our starting point and our ending point must be with meditation, with focus and quiet minds. Clear the storming clouds in your head and do as Lord Ban instructed. When the rain has cleared from your mind, the end goal will be more clearly seen, my Lady."
Aryn speaks with a little more authority than is customary for her, but it comes from a good place. She is a teacher, and sometimes teachers had to speak on topics regardless of how difficult they were to discuss. Nora's emotions and frustration was often fueled her reactions, so breaking a bad habit was the solution! Or so Aryn thought. She stands at the other end now, hands upon her hips and the breeze lightly teasing her cape behind her.
One squire indicates to Aryn, "The buckets are ready, ma'am." Aryn replies, "Then turn your focus to Lady Frayus and prepare yourself for her approach."
[ Ban Iskender (ban)]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Ban Iskender gives the squire a small nod. Get her, kid. The gentleman composes his hands at the small of his back to observe Nora's next (best?) try, after hearing Aryn's exortaion.
[ Nora Frayus (Nora)]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Nora's eyes turn to Aryn when firm, albeit wise, advice is dispensed. Her hands lift from her sash to her hips, and she presses the tips of her fingers a little bit more stiffly into the flesh beneath. She cannot deny her emotional response. Frustration. Embarrassment. Are they the cause of these symptoms, or the symptoms of some other cause. She can't even deny that there is a twinge of anger that rises up in her at her friend's advice, well-intentioned as it was. She does not, however, let the facade crumble. Perhaps, to Nora, simply smiling through it is akin to control.
"Of course, Your Grace. Meditation. It all comes back to meditation," she says. Alright, maybe some of that does bubble up. She turns to square her hips towards the entrance of the gauntlet and closes her eyes. And, for a moment, she does get control of the emotions of it all. The anger and the fear of failure. The embarrassment of failing in front of those who make it look so easy. She exhales it out through her lips and opens her eyes. Without hesitation, she springs forward.
It's still not perfect. There are stumbles, but stumbles natural to one running -with- the force. The speed is impossible to deny, but it the coordination is not. The muscle memory is out of step with this renewed pace, and as she crosses the threshold, her planting step lands a half-beat earlier than she feels it should have. The result is a tumble forward and beneath the splash of water meant to soak her. A silver lining, as she tumbles forward onto her hands and knees, friction digging into her palms enough to bite that soft skin and peel it back. It hurts, but the bruise to her ego hurts worse. Knees take a scrape too, but at least she's not wet, right?!
She pushes herself up onto her knees, and it's no longer giggled laughter on her end. Ser Lars' hand offers to help her up, and she gladly takes it. The salt on his skin stings at her fresh abrasions, but it's a welcome sort of pain.
[ Aryn Cortess (AC)]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
"Well done, Lady Nora. Control of the speed comes with repetition. I believe you grasp the heart of the lesson now and would ask you reflect on what you have learned here. I ask, too, that you learn to embrace failure much as you would success. No person here picked up a sword and was a master with it. They, too, felt the bite of frustration, pain, embarrassment, and failure. To echo the words of Master Luke, you must do better. Be better. Failure is but a threshold, my Lady. Rise above it, and do not allow its venom to cloud your thoughts. We are, all of us, students for life. The day we cease to learn is the day our friends mourn our passing."
Aryn motioned to Ser Lars, "That will be all, Ser Lars. I appreciate your time with this, and all of your discretion. You are dismissed."
Aryn does not seem keen to leave, and looks on to the sea as the squires grab their gear to move onto other tasks of the day. Ser Lars is solemn, but reassuring as he passes Lord Ban and Lady Nora, patting Nora on the arm in a show of silent encouragement before he moved on at a clipped pace accompanied by the squad of Squires.
"Join me by the shore and let us take some time to meditate."
[ Ban Iskender (ban)]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
"The greatest teacher, failure is," Ban recalls the words of master Yoda's holocron. He adds to Nora, "I will not tell you to feel nothing of shame, or ire. For you are alive. All I may say unto you is that neither of we-" himself and Aryn, "Feel any scorn or disappointment in your progress, lady." A short bow, and he steps to move with Aryn toward the Delayan shore.
[ Nora Frayus (Nora)]=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Nora sighs softly as she returns. The little scrapes on her knees and palms will heal, as will her bruised ego. She peers to Aryn first and then to Ban as they both offer up more insights and wisdom into this strange new power that is proving to be both thrilling and infuriating all at the same time. The look on Nora's face is quizzical and bordering on perplexed. Perhaps she expects admonishment for her failures, and when none is given, she turns to look at her scraped palms that suddenly ache just a little bit less.
"Thank you both for your patience with me," she says softly, that warm salty ocean breeze catching her pink hair doing Nora the favor of tossing it over her shoulders. She shuts her eyes and tips her head back, hands returning to her hips once again, left hand gripping the pommel of her sword as she inhales and exhales.
"The force may not have a choice in who it stands beside, but people do. I am grateful to the both of you for choosing me," she says. She steps forward, nearer to the sea, to find a spot for some more meditation.
