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CHARACTERS: Ilde, Mara, Batman
WHERE: Concordia
WHEN: DAY 33
SUMMARY: This is a training montage
WARNINGS: There's some violence and a tad bit of gore.

She has to go digging in Angel's clothes for 'athletic' wear. It is not a term Ilde particularly understands or even agrees with, but it seems that it would be best to follow Mara's instructions, for the time being. Still, any fight she gets in to... she is likely to be wearing a dress, why not practice in one? She only grumbles a little as she pulls into one of Angel's pairs of stretchy leggings with its panels of mesh. She pokes around for a shirt as well, but finds it more difficult to find a fit. She finally determines something that will have to do and goes to meet Mara on the rooftop. The rooftop of their building was the best compromise to be found. Perhaps somewhere isolated in the industrial district, but then it would have been the pair of them isolated on the far side of the industrial district. If something went wrong it could be troublesome. Besides, others have already used the rooftop for their fights. She's already had to move some of the plants into safer locations.

It's her turn. She is not so much nervous as excited. She has never had anyone like Mara in her life. There had rarely been other women, at all, once she began to live in the palace.

Even fewer, after Camille had been found a witch.

The blast of cool air as she comes out onto the roof removes that thought from her. It also catches her hair and blinds her for a moment as she moves to take control of all the long blonde locks and tie them up. She uses the same bit of twine she's always used to knot off the end of the braid.

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Whatever the intent, Ilde is glad not to be thrown to the ground. She seems a little startled, a little flustered, but she straightens herself out as she's put back on her feet.

"Once more."

Once more squared up, once more twisting through her hips, once more pulled off her balance by Mara's pivot. She feels the shift of herself through her body, and when she straightens once more, she takes a step back, focused on herself. Focused on the way her balance would need to be maintained to do this, the way she would turn to keep the enemy's momentum moving past her.

"I think I understand," she agrees.

Not that she feels she needs no more practice in it, it takes muscle memory to put any of this to good use, but the concept is there.

Mara isn't sure if she's teaching too quickly, or Ilde is slow. The Emperor would not have approved of such things-- Mara was expected to learn with minimal instruction. The Emperor was a busy man, and the fact that he was willing to spend any time on her was a blessing.

Mara isn't the Emperor.

She goes through the motions again, this time more slowly. "It seems like I'm using my strength to pull you," she says, "but I'm really using your speed to redirect you. That way, it works better against larger opponents."

"If I lack the strength, it is better not to meet it head on," she agrees.

It is a lesson she knows entirely too well. Her entire personality is built around this fact, of dodging and weaving and redirecting to protect herself, not merely physically but emotionally, mentally. If she had tried to meet the Godking head on... he would have broken her, in entirety.

"Good." She nods as she helps Ilde back up, and repositions herself around the girl. "Then I'll punch you, and you'll show me."

She winds up, preparing to strike.

She barely has time to take a breath and clear her mind, but it is one of her better strengths. She does not try to worry about doing it perfectly, and instead just tries to trust her body. Her result is a little rushed and a little more push than redirection but better than being hit. It doesn't send Mara to the ground, merely past her.

"You would recover too quickly," she acknowledges, resets and is immediately ready to try it again.

"Because I know it's coming. Someone else wouldn't, and then you'd strike." To kill them, immobilize them, it doesn't matter. Mara's loyalties are far too direct and undivided to worry about that sort of morality.

"You also have the advantage of those shock gloves. Try to think about how they could be combined with these tactics."

She says it while setting up for another punch. They're going to do this again and again and again, until Ilde gets it right. And then some more, to make sure it wasn't a fluke.

"You matter just as much as anyone else." Blunt? Perhaps, but it's something Ilde has been forced to contemplate quite a lot lately. There was a power inequality within her brood that caused friction that could not be resolved. Who knows, one day she and Mara might not be on the same side either.

She does think about the shock gloves, but as they practice their movements over and over again, as they move to others, Ilde has something else she has been contemplating.

"May I try something?" She asks... well, mostly because she likes Mara and does not want to be untoward.

"I've been training like this since before I can remember, with a much harsher teacher." It's the reason Mara doubts there were other Hands. They wouldn't have survived it. "The best way to win a fight with me is not to have one."

Blunt meets blunt. It's a boast, yes, but it's also true. After all, she thinks with a fond smile, she killed Luke Skywalker.

So they train, and Mara does start to see some improvement, but maybe it's wishful thinking? She's never trained someone before, and it's slow going. When Ilde asks to try something new, that's a good sign. Creativity should never be wasted. Mara stands back, wiping a strand of hair from her brow, and waits. "Go ahead. It's why I'm here."

She doesn't mind Mara's boasting, she also sees it as merely a statement of the facts, but... Ilde stands by her own words as well. There are too many within the host who could stop her, control her, and she means to outstripe them all. Even Cathaway. Even Dreus. The greediness of it beats a hideous tattoo inside of her, a darkness stirred. She does not want to give up her self but then, who is? It will be decided over time. A negotiation.

For now, she simply takes a stop back, a pinch appearing between her brows. The technique of it has been boiling in the back of her mind ever since the bombing, ever since her powers over fear stabilized into something stronger... But she has had no one to test it on. Only briefly and incompletely the Darkling, even then that had only been a vague demonstration. There's more. She can feel it.

She rocks back and forward from heel to toe for a moment, trying to get down the rhythm of syncing up her body with her mind.

When she finally feels like she can do the two things she wishes to do simultaneously... She moves, rushing forward.

The knife comes from nowhere, and she plunges it into Mara's neck with all the viciousness and torque that she had mimed out when asked how she had killed that boy. First it slides in deep, the it twists, then it rips and--

Ilde stops with her empty fist poised at Mara's temple, not making contact. Her eyes are dilated and her cheeks have gone read, face sweaty as if she's broken out into a fever.

Edited 2016-08-31 02:43 (UTC)

Mara feels it hit her like a whip, a sudden livid spike of fear. Finally, her training in the Force pays off; she can tell it's not her. Instinctively, for a split second, she thinks it's C'baoth, but that passes. This is a power Ilde possesses alone, and its potential is tremendous.

She blocks Ilde's blow from muscle memory, but when it doesn't connect, her arm goes slack. She's panting as well-- knowing the fear isn't hers does nothing to calm its gnawing presence in her mind. She wants to calm it, to meditate, to be safe, she wants an ally, anyone-- but it's not real. She takes a deep breath. It's not real.

"Very good," she says, tired but impressed. "If I hadn't had my training, or expected something, you would have gotten me."

She looks over Ilde, breathing quick, clearly tired even from this exertion. The strength she has from the Nest isn't like the Force, and yet... "You said you were receiving training from a Jedi?"

"He is not a Jedi." She doesn't know the politics very well, but she knows that much from Ahsoka's utter contempt for him. "But he does wield the Force, and he is very powerful."

Ilde's answer is shaky, forcing a specific image is a new task for her, the mental pull seeps through her physical body, making her feel weak, unfocused. It seems they are both ready to take a break from this, but... There is some satisfaction in it. A sense that Mara truly can teach her something worthwhile.

"He will open up the floodgates to crash into my mind... To build up my endurance to such an assault."

She is very good at it. It was how she had weathered his complete meltdown after Anakin's death, despite having no reserves left whatsoever after using her powers to influence and entire room full of fighters and spectators.

"Good for him," Mara mutters. She doesn't think highly of the Jedi herself, doesn't think much of their methods. A Jedi, the Jedi is her first and only friend, but that doesn't mean she doesn't think he's a fool. No one in their right mind would befriend her.

But that's besides the point.

"That's good. It's the way I was taught." So clearly it's the best way of learning. "But you need to learn offense, not just defense. To send an image like that will take practice."

And she's not exactly raring to be the testing dummy, but she needs practice as well.

"We'll train in that, too. You'll hit me with what you've got, and I'll block you."

She's almost flattered that she can do something to help Mara practice in kind, although she somehow knows better than to actually express that.

"Yes, that will be good for both of us," a more neutral agreement. "I have improved, since the bombing, but I think there is still a great deal more I can do."

"It should make you better with your other training as well." Mara finds a conveniently placed chair, and sits. "In my experience, all mental training is connected."

Mara reaches for some bottled water because you know what Concordia has, it's bottled water. "You didn't have any of these sorts of skills, before..." she gestures to the city, to the two of them, all of it, "this?"

Edited 2016-08-31 22:08 (UTC)

Ilde dislikes furniture, she finds it all very stiff and unpleasant, even indoors she prefers to find places to sit on the floor, or to perch on the arms of chairs of on tabletops. Here on the rooftop, she lifts herself up onto the the edge of a large concrete planter, where she can be close to the flowers. It soothes her.

"No," she answers. "I was merely human."

She had explained before, in a way, that grasping at power required the loss of that purity... She's not entirely sure what she is with the symbiote inside of her. Sometimes she is conflicted on how this makes her feel, although her fantasy of terrible power is frequent.

"Humans can use the Force," Mara says, and closes her eyes. For a moment, the bottle of water hovers in the air, half an inch above her palm. It's a display of faint power, yes, and she'd be hard pressed to do more without serious concentration. Another thing the Emperor took from her. Another thing she lacks without the Emperor's guidance. "The most famous Jedi is a human."

Ilde is somewhat skeptical about this, but she sees no real need to argue about it.

"Ahsoka has only told me a little about the Jedi, she was Anakin's apprentice, I know a little of their... goals, but not much else."

She has little hesitance to admit what she does not know. She is entirely aware that she knows very little, her world was quite backwards compared to most.

Mara nods, and decides on her own to fill in the gap. It's likely the only place the girl will get an unbiased account of what the Jedi are.

Because Mara is, after all, completely unbiased in these matters.

"The Jedi are peacekeepers. They're intended to use the Force to bring justice to the downtrodden and the oppressed. They're arbitrators in difficult situations as well. The-" Emperor, "man I trained under told me that they became corrupt, and that's why their way of life fell into disrepair. Their peace was a lie, and they feared true passion and strength."

Mara shrugs. "It's odd that there are so many here." Two is a lot, considering they're all, you know, dead.

Ilde is silent as Mara explains this to her, mulling over the various Force users that she knows. They each feel so different. Anakin, Ahsoka, Ren, Rey, and now Mara. How did they all come together? Some of them were clearly not Jedi. In fact, Ahsoka had vehemently told her that she herself had left the order, and yet she still espoused the desire to keep the peace. To help those in need. Supposedly something she had learned from Anakin, although Ilde had never heard such a sentiment from the man himself. It is certainly nothing she has ever heard from Kylo Ren. One piece does ring with familiarity however: They became corrupt, and that's why their way of life fell into disrepair. Their peace was a lie, and they feared true passion and strength.

"They come from different times," Ilde decides to explain. "I do not know all of the history, but Ren knew Anakin, when Anakin had no inkling of him."

That's as far as she is willing to talk about that, it isn't her story to share.

"That sounds like the sort of scrapes Jedi get into. I don't know why, but they always end up in the most impossible situations." Mara says with a shrug. It's completely unlike her problems, which are totally orderly and sensible and logical, always, without fail.

"One Jedi I knew was cloned against his will," she says, taking care to keep his involvement in this anonymous. She doubts Skywalker's squeaky clean reputation would improve from association with her, and while he isn't here to take that blow, the principle is all that matters for a friend. "He was forced to fight the clone, and couldn't kill it-- killing your own clone will drive you mad. So I did it for him."

You will kill Luke Skywalker. She smiles, sly and proud.

"Cloned...?" She frowns, mulling that concept over.

She understands the meaning of the word to 'clone' but the overall concept is very strange to her. The imagery that comes to mind is disturbing. Flesh grown in vats, some kind of nightmare. How could such things even be considered human. Her ultimately superstitious nature dismisses the idea as a disgusting one. She doesn't even question why killing it might drive you mad, of course it would: like stabbing a blade into your own heart.

"As the Hive travels, I think we too will encounter many an impossibility." Ilde herself has already encountered much she thought impossible, has been forced to give up the religion that guided her entire life and rethink all she has ever known. Then again, coming from somewhere so backwards primitive perhaps she had more to learn than most.

"We already have," Mara says, thinking on it. She's been shepherded off to some distant corner of the Unknown Regions, farther than she's ever been in what felt like less than an eyeblink, and yet...

"But it's strange, this planet only reminds me of..." home isn't the right word. "Coruscant. The capital of the New Republic and the Jedi Order." She expects the words to be meaningless to Ilde. "I guess impossible is relative."

It's a sobering thought. She's not looking forward to seeing whatever both of them find awe-inspiring. Mara stands, and begins doing some basic stretches to get her mind off it.

Ilde plucks at the knee of the leggings she wears, running her fingers over the texture of the mesh panels. She's trying to imagine this shape Mara is talking about: the New Republic, the Jedi Order. They both have this sense about them that they sprawl over planets. Even here in Condordia, Ilde has very little understanding of an ecosystem that spans her immediate physical world. Even her visualization of the Station and Avera in relationship to Opia is... childish, simple. Toys that sit in their designated places in a sea of black. She feels a little small and silly in that moment, trying to follow along in a conversation she clearly did not understand.

"It has been frightening," she is sure that won't win her any sympathy from Mara Jade, but it's the truth. "Nothing is the way I thought it was. I did not realize how much my sense of security was built merely in familiarity."

That thought resonates deeply with Mara, more deeply than she was expecting. Familiarity, security, identity, pride. When it leaves you, everything changes. Mara remembers the explosion, fainting, the pain. She remembers waking up in an Imperial prison, and the bleakness of knowing everything about who she was... was over.

A bit of this fizzes over the mental link, a sense of loss and confusion. Mara feels it slip away, knows a tiny bit of her secret is out.

She mutters, "how old are you?"

That thrumming is no surprise to Ilde, they knew there was something between one to the other, it had been there from the beginning, when she had first heard the heavy voice of a dark man that lived inside of Mara's mind. They already know this, and so she makes no attempt to grab hold of the thread of it, more like it is a butterfly and she lets it ghost her hand and lets it leave her again.

"Twenty."

She may not be. Her parents had died when she was very small, there was no one who entirely knew her age. Maybe she was a little older, maybe she was even a little younger. Twenty is the number that she uses, however, it fits her place in the world, not quite a child, not quite a woman. It was the way of things, the way she had intended to die; to keep pristine.

Edited 2016-09-02 23:38 (UTC)

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