knightsoflegend | orientation ♔

[So he's got healing powers, she thinks with a wash of jealous pain, looking at the browning stains without evidence of revulsion. What could she have done, if she had talents like those? But that's a singularly pointless thing to dwell on, and Scout ends that thought and tries to end the emotion, looking at Sir Solace from the corner of her eye. Her voice is soft, pitched not to carry far.]

He'll be all right, then.

[Scout hesitates and keeps herself from sighing before she speaks.]

I understand that your time is valuable. Thank you for agreeing to take me on.

A full recovery. [ There's a detached air to the pronouncement, lacking in any particular sympathy for the man's plight. His eyes train onto her, a calculating gaze that seems to weigh what it sees. ]

It's been some time since I've taken a squire.

You may call me Sir Solace.

[She folds her hands formally at the small of her back, as if giving a report, and gazes back as neutrally as she can. She's glad of the Sir, more than she'd be willing to say. The more she can differentiate him from the Jedi Master called Solace - she'd had a name before the Purge, but Scout couldn't remember it - the better.]

[In the Force she tries to get a feel of his presence; even though she can never get much from those things, she wants to be able to know if he's near, to identify him in the future by the sense of it.]

Yessir.

[She has a lot of names, and hesitates about which one to offer him, not sure what he'd find appropriate, before just deciding to lay them all out.]

Tallisibeth Enwandung-Esterhazy, called Scout. If you prefer to refer to me by a surname, it's Esterhazy.

[ Even with her muted ability to do so, Solace radiates a particularly powerful vibe, and either makes no attempt to conceal it, or simply doesn't possess the ability to. ]

Sir Esterhazy will do.

Wynn tells me that you're one of these... otherworldly immigrants. That you don't come from the Shadow World.

Sir. [She nods slightly. Better than 'the Esterhazy girl', at least.]

I am. My birth planet is Vorzyd V, and I was raised on a different world, Coruscant. Interplanetary travel is common there. [She listens carefully to his sense and watches him, wondering if he's as quietly uncomfortable? unsure? well, something about it as Wynn.]

[ 'Skeptical' seems a better word for it. ]

You're an alien, then.

[She is politely but decidedly insistent.]

Yes, by some definitions. As far as physiology and genetics go, my species is human.

An interesting phenomena. Humans seem to find their way into every world, regardless of where we belong.

'There are stronger species, smarter ones, longer-lived ones, and so on, but humanity is protean, reliably prolific, and rebounds from the worst catastrophes.'

[This is said in a dry tone, clearly a quote. Rather than finish it - 'We have been here since the start of galactic history. Now is the time to rise to our deserved place', etc, she doesn't remember much more of the rally anyway - Scout shrugs.]

[ The description seems to move him to amusement, as he gives a dry snort that's not without humor. ] "Reliably prolific". What a pleasant way to put it.

[So he does have a sense of humor, she thinks, and files that away.]

Yessir.

[Scout recrosses her arms behind her back. She doesn't like just letting someone else direct a conversation so all she does is respond, it's probably bad form not to let it happen here, but...]

Sir, what are my duties? I have medic training, but it looks like that's covered.

Magic in this world is a fickle thing, as you will find with the passing of years. What is here today may vanish tomorrow, and in such cases, we find ourselves quite grateful for those who continued to practice the healing arts without divine assistance.

Beyond this, it is your responsibility to train to meet with what dangers are in the field.

[And until that unspecified time anything I do when you're available is pointless, she thinks wearily but doesn't say. Healers.]

Yessir. If I can evaluate myself, I'm more useful in the field than the clinic anyway.

[Scout doesn't think for a moment that he's clearly old, therefore any experience in the field was years ago. Most of her life was well-stocked with highly active clearly older people.]

Like direbeasts. I've already started a physical regimen, sir. If you can advise me on anything to add or focus on, I'd appreciate it.

[She has. Scout and idle time don't mix well; meditation, study, and driving practice are the most relaxed events she usually does.]

I'd have to observe what your ... regimen is, initially. Perhaps a good use of our time today. [ He nods towards the door ] I would also be interested in what you've been led to believe we do here.

[Scout hesitates for a breath, hazel eyes from him to the door, then decides that if he doesn't insist, she'll go first. This aspect is uncomfortably Master-Padawan to her; some knights and masters preferred to lead everywhere or walk alongside, others didn't care.]

I can show you some of it, sir. [She'll go through the door now. Doesn't hold it.] Much of what I do is - it can happen anywhere, anytime, but I do use the training rooms. When I wake up I go out and run. On alternate days I'll run more or focus on calisthenics. Otherwise there's not really a schedule.

['Led to believe', she thinks with grim good humor. Promising.] Sir? Is it not training to protect people?

[ He reaches for the door over her head, following behind her, after securing it tightly. ]

I meant that I'd like to see what you are physically capable of. You may demonstrate such in whatever capacity you see most appropriate.

[ As for her other answer... ] To protect whom?

Yessir. [The closest practice room is probably still her best bet. She wishes she had someone to spar with, whose technique she knows well.]

Those who can't protect themselves. [She frowns over her shoulder, breaking a concept into words.] Or... it's not that they can't, many of them, they aren't really helpless. But there are things that are too much or too... not what they know, and they need help.

And many of them Shadowkind or people affected by Shadowkind, without regard for ethnicity, affiliations, and so on. Yes?

[ Luckily, the spacious combat room is right across the hall! And mostly abandoned at this time. ]

Not inaccurate.

And of whom do you think our membership is comprised?

Shadowkind, those descended from Shadowkind, people like mages with particular talents. Again, without regard for affiliations.

[Scout glances around before she goes in, again not holding the door, and without missing a beat starts shedding outer layers of clothing to put on hooks. She wears nothing she can't either remove in two seconds or won't restrict her movements, but if this is a test it's better not to obscure her body.]

[She's naturally thin and has been undernourished for months, but has been eating more and working to build muscle again since arriving, though she's not particularly defined. Scout actually ate soon before reporting in, but lightly, so she's not bothered about that; still, she feels herself start to sweat as she considers her options. No one is here who she'd be comfortable asking to spar with an onlooker watching, and she doesn't care for most of the exercise furniture. Velocities? Forms? Or... surely not Jedi Flow. That's a game.]

[Surely not.]

[ He certainly doesn't seem about to offer up any suggestions at the moment, folding his arms, as he stands to one side of the room. ]

You're missing one group.

[Scout paces restlessly barefoot, bare armed, freckles on her shoulders, trying for a moment to redo her short ponytail lower, at the base of her neck. Her hair is slightly too short for that and some keeps escaping; she ties it tighter and decides it's enough for now.]

The people knights see and think could be knights themselves. That's the main thing actually, isn't it? Everything is dependent on that.

[There's a mat. Scout stops at the edge, hesitates, steps onto it, testing to see if it sticks to her feet at all.]

Not all of whom are Shadowkind, or even proficient in magic or "Shadow" arts.

Some of our members are human, born of this world, with no talents that mark them as anything more than determined and willing to learn how they might aid those from another world, or face threats that come from another dimension. [ he doesn't sound particularly impressed by these people; it's more of a matter of fact statement. ]

But as you say, all of them are bound by not only their desire to be here, but by the impression they leave upon us.

Not everyone's even a fighter specifically. Need not only those skilled in combat...

[that sounds like part of a quote or a paraphrase. Also it sounds distracted.]

[Scout's gone out into the center of the mat, bouncing slightly to test it. It's thin but springy, the kind of thing used for gymnastics or wrestling. It'll do, she decides.]

[Her posture changes subtly and she inhales deeply through her nose, holds it, exhales through her mouth. A great tenet of the Art of Movement, she recalls, is that physical action is the unity of breathing, motion, and alignment.]

[Jedi Flow had been a game when Master Yoda taught it. But when that class had graduated to Master Solace, who knew the Art to a depth matched by few, things had changed.]

[Maybe this can work.]

I can begin.

[ Solace begins to pace slowly along the exterior of the mat, not particularly focused on her, but glancing back up in her direction to nod for her to proceed. ]

[Another deep breath, and without falling or crouching, eeling her legs apart into a split, she's sitting on the mat and... writhing, to a casual glance. Stretching, contorting, balancing, moving her body in odd ways, tumbling and rolling and doing springing tripod moves.]

[She does a lot of things that would result in neck or spine injury if she wasn't both flexible and practiced. It does manage to get the tie out of her hair within a minute or so, and slightly kinked hairs promptly cling to her sweating neck and scalp and face, getting snarled as she keeps going, sometimes clearly getting pulled. Oddly, despite not looking where she's going most of the time, she avoids the tie completely when it's gone, moving around it but never touching.]

[Most of what she's doing is some kind of precision body flow routine, pitting her body against gravity. She also shows that she can fall, kind of ripple, and end up upright, and manages to spring to a standing position from all kinds of other poses. Scout does a couple back- and forward- flips at some point too, which seem weirdly out of place.]

[After about ten minutes, still breathing in through her nose and out through her mouth if harder than at the start, she ends with some elaborate bridge-threading, then springs to her feet, bows, and rakes her hair out of her eyes.]

[(It wasn't quite what the linked people did. She hesitated a little more at the start, though it got easier farther in. Her face was a mask of concentration at the start and she winced or scowled as her hair got pulled by the exertions, grunted and made noises in her throat from time to time, but by the end Scout was more serene. While she could do any of those moves, there was a kind of jerking lashing quality that came and went, especially at the start, more vigor than grace. Also she sweated through all of her clothes and left sweat in darkened marks all over the mat.)]

Permission to get a drink? [She didn't appear to have noticed the drinking fountain against the wall when she came in, neither did she seem to have looked around at all during the routine, but she's looking at it now.]

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