Log:Jedi Order: The Living Force

Aryn teaches Jedi about the Living Force.

OOC Date: April 27, 2022
Location: Droalder Bay, New Alderaan
Participants: Ban Iskender, Nora Frayus, Aryn Cortess

Droalder bay of New Alderaan is a wonderous place during the day. Its rich blue water stand stark against the light brown of the mountains and the snow-white capped tops of the ridge. It is a mixture of seasons here with tall pointy pines and fir trees that rattle with each chilly breeze, yet down in the valley spring has taken root. Warmth can be found upon the ground and along the shorelines, warding off the chill with a more perpetual, humid heat that's generous and kind to those who prefer that warmer climate. It's on the shore that Lady Nora, Lord Ban, and Aryn find themselves, far from Bastion and immersed in the wilderness of the bay.

Occasionally ships leaving the port will pass by on the glittering waters to find the fresh water sea beyond, but for the most part, silence reigns with the ambience of nature. This camping trip was intended for the purpose of learning more about the living force, and about becoming one with it. Aryn tugs one boot free from her foot then switches legs to tug on the other. Nearby, a fire gently crackles yet with the Aldera sun bearing down on them, the flames look more like heat waves than traditional orange. Embers glow a bright grey with hints of orange, and a half burned log lightly sizzles.

"When I speak of the living force, what comes to mind for either of you?"

Aryn asks, pointing her bare feet and wiggling painted toes. She starts to roll her pant legs up, revealing more pale skin from her calves.

What comes to mind when speaking of the Living Force? "Redundancy," Ban muses aloud. "I do not think of any aspects of the Force as *dead*, thus there is only the Force. Even those shades whose lives have ended live on through it." While he considers the question posed and offers his answer, the gentleman's green eyes are sweeping slowly over the landscape. His attention dwells less on the towering mountains, and more on the expanses of water, and stands of trees. "I have yet to tire of this sight," he voices, quietly. "Gods grant that I never do."

Nora Frayus has already pulled off the off-the-shoulder sweater that she'd arrived here in. Beneath it, the straps of her triangle-top bikini had been on display, tied at the root of her neck and keeping the garment suspended. Now that it's tugged off, the rest it is revealed, as well as the landscape of her slender-but-athletic torso. High waisted jean shorts and simple hiking sandals have completed the look thus far, but the call of the cool water just past the fire and beach is beginning to become irresistible. Especially beneath the warm rays of the sun.

Lady Frayus is never absent a blade, however. Even out here on a pleasant stroll to the beach, a dagger sits on her right thigh. Belted in place, it's grip obscured somewhat by her shorts, it's obvious that its presence is more of a thing for comfort than practicality. This changes, however, when the belts are undone and that thigh-sheath is left to rest against a bit of wood she'd dragged from the nearby forests to sit at beside the fire.

"Mmmmmh?" Nora asks, one finger tucked at the button of her shorts in an effort to begin popping them open when Aryn asks the question. She purses her lips and pauses, looking over her shoulder towards the flat water of the bay with a quiet, contemplative expression.

Ban goes first, and Nora considers his answer, eloquent in its brevity.

"I suppose I think of connection. A thread that weaves through past and present. We see one perspective, living in a moment as we are. The tip of a knife, and yet," she pauses. A soft breath escapes her and she shakes her head. This sort of talk often evades her.

"Perhaps we struggle to see the whole. With the force, though. The picture becomes clearer. Maybe that sounds terribly silly," she says.

"Gods willing, this sight will greet us for the rest of our days."

Aryn rises up from her seat and slowly makes her way for the water. She steps in that way someone has tender feet, anxious about stepping on something sharp thus walking cautious with arms wide. This anxiety fades when she steps into the chilled sea and wades ahead. "Neither interpretations are wrong, but each is only a perspective of the picture." Aryn has made it to the point the water has reached mid thigh, thus she turns to face them.

"The living Force means /the now/, what you see.. what you can hear, feel or touch. Understanding the Force begins on the inside.. here.." She lightly taps her chest. "Some believe that this gift is something you find, but in truth, it has always been there. It is as inherent to you as taste or smell. The difference between someone who is force sensitive and someone who has trained to use it? The trained user knows how to distinguish its current where as the one with no training is ignorant to its manifestations."

Aryn gestures out to the sea around her. "The first technique in the Force one should learn to master is how to become one with the Force. This saying is often synonymous with passing on to the afterlife, but in this instruction I use the phrase to mean.. become immersed by the Force. As with all techniques in the Force, it begins with meditation. I ask that you join me in this exercise, and I will explain the process of learning to understand the living Force."

For the rest of their days? "Quite so," Ban agrees. He begins to draw off his boots once Aryn's object becomes clear, also doffing his half-cape and swordbelt, in turn. As a result he is slower than the ladies to enter the water. The gentleman faces a choice when Aryn continues deeper, and elects to remove gloves, doublet, and fitted trousers, as well. Too close fitting to roll up, and he detests the notion of walking back in sodden pants. Thus, Ban is rather bare, save for black fitted shorts once he steps into the bracing water. "As your Highness wills," he nods to the invitation, drawing a deep breath, and letting his eyes go closed, but the gentleman's mind is not so sedate beneath diplomatic appearances.

Ban won't be alone in his bareness. Lady Nora, as is accustomed, had only half-read (or listened to) the invitation to this particular event and had dressed half-accordingly. Thankfully, this proves to be a boon rather than a curse, and she's able to unbutton the shorts and pull them down to reveal the second half of her bikini. It's mismatched -- the sapphire blue bikini top and a floral pink and white set of bottoms. Still, they look as if they could be a matched pair, particularly when considering the woman's pink-painted fingernails with the single blue ring finger painted a rich, oceanic sapphire.

"The living force is here and now," Nora murmurs, as if committing the phrase to memory. She dips her finger into the cool water, and then a second. And then her hand. She moves deeper than Aryn does, electing to submerge herself all the way up past her hips so that the cool water laps at her waist and belly button from the wake of her own movements. She exhales, visible chills lifting up onto her arms from the temperature.

She turns to look over her shoulder at the two behind her, that wet hand lifting from the water to tie her hair back into a quick ponytail from a tie she retrieved off the same wrist. "I will do my best, Your Grace," she says, and closes her eyes. Inhales. Exhales. Lets the sound of it start to creep past her filters and press into her skull. The goosebumps on her arm begin to settle, and that music begins to form a tune. At least, as best as she can describe it.

Aryn watches each enter the water; her gaze resting heavily to Lady Nora tracking her with ease and turning to observe her go a bit deeper. There is a pleased smile that accompanies her look, though she grimaces when Nora begins to suffer from chills. When Ban follows, she turns back to watch him wading toward her a bit, blinking slowly and nodding when he's settled into a place he finds comfortable. "Thank you," she starts, then walks to one side to watch them both.

"Instead of forcibly clearing your minds, focus outwards upon the sounds we are presently immersed. Listen to the trees as they shift in the breeze whispering with chilly winds from the mountains bullying those warmer and nearer the sea. Think on the sounds of the birds as the chirp, near and far. Then think of the water you have waded into, and the gentle current that beckons you to enter the channel."

"Immerse yourself in your surroundings while drawing upon the influence of the Force. Imagine forging a bubble that originates deep in your core, and in this bubble, you will to feel everything as if it were an extension of you. Draw out the sound of your heart beat, the noise of air as it feels your lungs. Now, expand that bubble outward, beyond you and extend it to encompass the sounds you heard before; the trees, the wind, the birds, the water."

"In doing so, your surroundings become more than just objects you perceive from one perspective. They become a part of you. In this state, you can track the winds through open air, you can feel the shift in flight of a flock of birds as they pass high above, and you can detect the subtle, instinctive curiosity of fish that have paddled from the channel to explore your presence by the shore."

"This feeling of immersion.. is the true symbiotic relationship one may achieve with the Force. It is the foundation of the 'now'.. of the living force. Ponder this consciousness, and tell me what you feel now as your mind learns to perceive your surroundings not as objects, but as an extension to yourselves.."

Ban Iskender's breathing slows as he works toward a steadier calm, the subtle held tensions bleeding into the slow ebbs and flows of the water around his legs. Ban lowers his hands to let fingers drift through the lake, and it is the palpable feel of moving water and his place within it that draws his senses futher afield. "I feel your two lives most strongly. Pulsing among the waters. beneath that, the pulse of the lake. Waters flowing forth and back akin to a great heartbeat. After several more moments, the lesser lives carried and grown within it; I sense that if I were mo move an arm, I could follow the ripple into the mountains."

Whatever chill Nora felt from the water seems to gradually subside the longer she acclimates to it. Or, perhaps, it's in reaching out to the Force that she finds some semblance of comfort within the discomfort. Indeed, she's learned that most metaphors for these exercises don't quite apply to her own perception. But she's learned to make them work for her. Where some perceive a bubble, Nora perceives a sound-stage. In a lot of ways, to find focus, she needs to filter out the noise. To hear her heartbeat.

Good suggestion, Princess.

To hear her heartbeat. She tips her head and thins her lips a moment, and then steadies her breathing again. For that brief moment of interruption, goosebumps lift up on her arms once again. But then, she reaches in. Finds the heartbeat. And those goosebumps fade away. The heartbeat and then... the water. Rippling. She feels it as sound. An instrument in an orchestra. A bit wider now. Ripples. Ban. Aryn. Trees. The organic muck squished beneath her toes. The tiny little single-celled plants that exist by the whim of sunlight and undercurrents alone.

She exhales.

"I hear them more clearly now. The parts they play. It's a..." she tips her head, ponytail slipping from her shoulder. Normally, she might be embarrassed by her perception being so... strange. Different. But when she's concentrating like this, she sees with some semblance of clarity.

"Melody, but... they harmonize. I can hear your parts too," she says, and smiles, "And they sound so lovely."

"The state you find yourselves in is the one I referenced before. This connection with the living Force is but one step in making it, what the Jedi commonly say, your ally. You have achieved harmony with it, and the next step is surrendering to it. You are but a conduit of its manifestation, a part of its song that stands out like a rock jutting from a sea with strong currents. To give yourself to the Force is to silence the thoughts of self by becoming one." Aryn walks around them dragging her hands across the water.

"One might say it is a matter of trust, but the Force transcends primitive notions of such. It simply is, and so shall it ever be. It exists, and has existed before you and will persist long after you."

"The Jedi believe that reaching this level of consciousness and symbiotic harmony with the Force is the source of a Jedi's power. With a clear mind absent the sounds of our own insecurities, you become an instrument driven by the power of the Force itself. You become faster, more perceptive, focused, and undistracted. It is why things like attachment and emotions are so dangerous. We are not immune to that venom, and when it is present in our blood stream our vision becomes clouded. No longer do we act on the will of the Force, it is instead the fallible grasp of insecurity and selfish notions that grant us a superficial lie that encourages us to believe we are in control."

"You see it now, however, how everything flows with purpose right down to the smallest molecule and atom. We are not in control. There is a current that flows regardless of our perception and awareness on where it takes us."

Ban Iskender draws a slow breath in, eyes remaining closed, and senses open. Subtle tics and motions of brows and mouth betray moments in Aryn's oration where he grapples with a concept as it is spoken, though the steady breaths remain. The cold of the water remains a comfort to him, a familiar chill from a more desolate world. For an instant, Ban must steer his mind back to the here and now, the Living Force rather than its echo, as Aryn's passage stirs mild currents of the water around him.

Nora listens along to Aryn as she speaks, her mind attempting to weave the narrative tapestry that the Princess describes while also focusing in on the sounds she hears within her head. The tune that both Aryn and Ban play can be teased out one by one, but together, with the backdrop of this place, they make up a sound that is somehow more elegant than the sum of its parts. Nora giggles a little, feeling a bit of water splash past her as Aryn disturbs the glassy surface and passes a wake through her core.

"Mmmmmh," the young woman says thoughtfully, feeling that chill starting to rise back up in her arm again. Aryn's words become increasingly difficult for her to follow and, a moment or two later, Nora's eyes drift thoughtfully back open. "And how are we to be certain that the will of the force is always righteous and just? Is that a matter of faith alone? I can think of no shortage of atrocities committed by those who would surrender choice to some higher power," she asks. It is not a debate, but a simple question. That internal conflict and the splash of water has stirred her from her meditation. Though she can still hear the sounds around her, they're all out of sync and discordant. Until she puts up those filters -- walls she's erected since she was but a child.

"Surrender to it, hmmm," she murmurs thoughtfully and then, without warning, the noble takes in a breath and sinks below the top of her head into the frigid water, only to emerge a moment or two later with her pink hair matted to her skull and laughing almost reflexively at the sudden cold that had claimed her head and torso.

"That is where we arrive at the crux of an age-long debate. Is it us who has assigned an agenda to the Force, or are we simply projecting? What is righteous and just? Is it something the Force portrays, or is it something relative to us?" Aryn tucks her hands to her back, wading out a little further. "And what of faith? Faith is believing in something despite evidence against its existence, where you are unsure of its presence at all. Can you say, now, that you do not believe in the Force despite witnessing its influence all around us here and now?"

Aryn adopts a gentle treading of the water, smiling. "This is why children were the targets of the old Jedi Order. These concepts were more easily incorporated, and children more willing to accept them. As an adult, presumably ones who understand our own agendas and have our own beliefs, inherit a certain doubt when faced with something of this magnitude."

Aryn sighs, "The purpose of the lesson is not to convert you into thinking this way, but to understand the Jedi philosophy abought the living force. It is but one of four aspects of the Force a Jedi must come to understand."

"I daresay that even the children rised within the Jedi Order imposed their own perceptions and learned judgements upon the Force; the Jedi Code seems to have been one of the better methods of minimizing that ..corruption of sight, not removing it altogether, else-" Ban's philosophical musing is interrupted when Nora giggles, ducks under water, and re-emerges talking of surrender to the force. A green eye cracks open, and the dark brow above it lifts curiously. He notes Aryn smiling as well, though the subtle warmth in her voice had been a clue. "I see that I am alone in solemnity. My apologies," he offers in wry jest.

Nora is treading water as well now. Slow, but consistent, pumps of her legs in almost half circles to create enough of a whirlpool beneath her to keep her afloat. Her arms, too. A bit wider, pushing down on the water in concert. Big blue eyes peer at Ban's peeking eye and she guiltily pulls her lips into her mouth. She lifts her chin up, tipping her lips out of the water so that, when she speaks, it's briefly from behind a little sheet of cold water that rolls from her upper lip to her chin.

"Of course not, My Lord. We are all quite solemn here. The lessons of the Jedi Order are not to be taken lightly," she says. "It is me who owes an apology. I am paying attention, Your Grace," she says. A splash of water accompanies her words as she lifts her left arm to break the surface tension and wiggle a pinky in Aryn's direction. Scout's honor. Pinky swear. Such a gesture is truly universal.

"You have the right of it, Ban. The Jedi may use such extreme measures because of consequence. Any object, no matter how benign, can become a weapon in the hands of one with enough knowledge, skill, and murderous intent."

"Daresay, Father once instructed me the best way to take a life using a book, of all things. And the Force is considerably more potent than Ruminations on Lost Alderaanian Artifacts, Third Edition'," Nora says, slowly transitioning from treading water upright to a more on-her-back position. "Now who is being macabre? Do you have any other insights for us, Aryn? Please, right our course. Lord Iskender and I have escaped our pens and are in need of our shepherd."

"It comes down to choice. What you elect to portray. I personally believe that Jedi intended to study the Force and maintain a harmony with it unmolested with the agenda of politics and matters of state. Alas, history shares many tales of that failure. I believe that, as Ban said before we began, there is only the Force. Any interpretation beyond that statement is projection at best."

Aryn voice is kind, with an encouraging tone that's simultaneously thoughtful and skeptical. "Our purpose in this Order, now, is understanding the Force. We can voice the flaws of philosophies the Jedi and Sith had, but we must acknowledge that both sides sought to complete an agenda. The Jedi Code is an excellent example of that."

Ban Iskender steps into deeper water, and lets the lake bear up his weight, arms sculling easily as the water rises up to his shoulders and neck. Never having known a lake before seeking refuge on New Alderaan, swimming has been an active and recent study for the nobleman. Nora is answers with a faint smile, "Yes, terribly solemn, I was wrong to doubt your dread severity, lady." On the weightier subject voiced by Aryn, he nods. "It is a curious dilemma: we must honor the flawed codes of the past in order to avoid falling prey to the pitfalls which necessitated their creation, but not follow them so fully that we share their follies. Small wonder the question has never been fully given a single solution.

"Let it be a lesson to you, My Lord. Though I suppose wielding that dusty tome as a blunt object would be more amusing than reading it for the ten thousandth time," Nora muses with a little giggle. She continues to tread water where she is, though the cold water's becoming a factor. The chill of it has crept into her muscles and bones, making her a touch more sluggish. She begins to sink, oh so subtly, until she kicks her legs to propel herself breifly back towards not-quite-solid ground. Her toes squish into the sand and she takes a few steps from the water. Past her torso and just below her hips, the ties of her bikini bottoms poking out from the water where she stands now.

At first, the air is almost colder than the water was, but soon enough the sunlight cuts through evaporation's chill and warms her skin. Her arms unfold from her torso and she observes both Aryn and Ban still swimming about in the water.

"You are right, of course. We only know what we know, after all. And I know that I am not content to sit idly by while there is such suffering in this galaxy. Not when we have been given this gift," she says. She dips her left hand into the water and then lifts it up again. When that water begins to spill through the cracks in her fingers, Nora concentrates and, for just a few moments, the little droplets of water are suspended in air. The young woman half smiles, and they fall back into Droaldr bay's glassy surface with a soft splash.

"I believe the solution would go against our nature. We are the problem." Not Ban, Nora, or Aryn, but their species and others like them. "We are the factor with self awareness capable of bucking. Therefore, it will always be an open unknown without solution till the day we bridge the space from this consciousness to something higher." Which, arguably, could be the destination of Force Ghosts!

"Where the heart leads, a person must follow," Aryn says in response to Nora's declaration. She smiles, watching fondly as the Lady demonstrated her own influence of the Force.

"I believe the solution would go against our nature. We are the problem." Not Ban, Nora, or Aryn, but their species and others like them. "We are the factor with self awareness capable of bucking. Therefore, it will always be an open unknown without solution till the day we bridge the space from this consciousness to something higher." Which, arguably, could be the destination of Force Ghosts!

"Where the heart leads, a person must follow," Aryn says in response to Nora's declaration. She smiles, watching fondly as the Lady demonstrated her own influence of the Force.

Ban Iskender is a soldier and a duelist, well versed in the cruel realities of politics. Aryn's observation on the self awareness of humanity is met with a slow breath out, and an edge of regret to his words: "All too true, Highness." A brief shadow passes over his mood like a cloud before the sun on a clear day, but it passes soon enough. Nora's fine manipulation of the Force to artfully shed water draws a slight tilt of curiosity to his head. "Hm." A glance aside to Aryn. "Does my lady wish to linger, or is the lake done with us?"