This Is Titled: “Everything’s Perfectly All Right Now. We’re Fine. We’re All Fine Here Now,

This is titled: “Everything’s perfectly all right now. We’re fine. We’re all fine here now, thank you. How are you?”

~Sempaiko

Archives of The Last Jedi Academy (continued, part 7)

Impulse Requited

The rain had started to come down, she could tell it was one of those rare storms, soon the pressure would increase in the atmosphere, intensifying gravity, and send down the heavier, rain infused with metallic particles, but she was determined to confront him. The moments after her release of regret, her conscious regained dominance and her anger surfaced. She marched to his quarters and didn’t find him there. She closed her eyes and sensed his presence; she whispered a spell to detect its location.

In the cave past the meadow she found him pacing. Instinct led her hand to her waist even though she knew their lightsabers were with Master Luke.

“What were you doing out there?” She interrupted his brooding.

“What about you? A witch! Infiltrating the Force with your spells.” She clenched her teeth together; her hand without a saber grasped its absence tightly.

“It’s not witchcraft. You have no understanding. All your talk about evolving the Jedi, changing the order, drawing on the diverse powers of this galaxy, this universe to strengthen the Force, and you’re questioning that I draw on unconventional resources to enhance the Force?”

He retreated into the cave as the air pressure became denser. She, using a spell remained outside, cornering him in his retreat, the metallic rain beading off of the shield she conjured around her. The pressure of the atmosphere pushed him down to the stone floor. Angry as she was, she felt sympathy as he struggled with the the pressure. She entered the cave and altered the pressure. She smiled, acknowledging how she could set the spell and relinquish her control as opposed to the Force where she had to keep energy focused on what she made it control. At least for now that was the limit of her control with the Force.

“Thoughts on my abilities, now?” She stood over him as he regained composure. He looked up at her; his pupils dilated, eyebrows raised and she sensed the pulse of his heartbeat so strong it felt as if it was directly pressed against her own. Her gaze penetrated through his as she took a deep breath, elongating her posture, entrenched in the moment of this immense control, the power she felt over him, a power she had never felt over anyone. And then it became a weakness as he Force-pushed her and her arrogant stare back. Her spell broke and so had the rains. The pressure of the atmosphere had returned to a state acceptable for their species. The remnants of the metallic downpour streamed into the cave pooling around her as she sat prone on the ground.

“Your complacency with those obscure spells is your weakness.” He stood over her now, but only momentarily as his statement returned her anger to her and she hopped up from the ground. Insults about her heritage were unnecessary, but she was prepared to return them.

“Your aspirations to be your grandfather is yours.” Saberless, she tried to pierce him with these words; they locked in a stare but both shared the fear of what any attempts to control the other with the Force or what hand-to-hand combat might lead them to. He was no longer the lanky awkward adolescent for which she felt a silly girlhood crush for; he was a young man, body built and cut by intense training, and she was surprised at her lack of power to resist being drawn to him, into him....

She sat upright next to him, drenched by perspiration that streamed down her bare chest, awakened from a vision of the metallic rain, a disturbance, masked figures. She focused on making her breath short deep gasps into slow breaths. She glanced back down over her shoulder at him, certain he would have felt such a tremor in the Force, but he lay vulnerable in his stripped slumber, cloaked only in such comfort she glimpsed for a moment the innocent boy emerging from the loneliness and isolation of his time in training. Such comfort his peace gave her that she lay back down on his pale, bare chest and slept until uninterrupted by the late rising of the eastern suns cutting through the redwoods and into their shelter. Impulse requited.

Archives of the Last Jedi Academy (continued: pt. 3)

The Injury

Learning that Ben was that Skywalker intrigued her, but she had always kept her distance from him, avoiding any remote possibility of engaging in non-training conversation with him. His disposition made it easy as he seemed to not want to interact with others beyond their roles as padawans. And no one really talked about his lineage, at least not out loud. She wanted to make sure it seemed that she saw him just another Jedi in training with her, not letting anyone know that she had spent a long time researching his family intrigued by the history learned in her school. But now he knew.

Among her people, Anakin Skywalker was a admirable warrior and his legacy as Darth Vader was not communicated as a bringer of evil but as a more complex nuanced figure, a survivor, a victim fighting a battle that he fought internally and extrinsically. His prowess in the Clone Wars had set standards for the guards defending the city in which her family lived.

She was honored that Master Skywalker had thought enough of her to pair her with Ben, but she was worried that her skill would be nowhere near his. Although they were close in age and in years of formal training, he was a Skywalker. She tried not to let it and him knowing her secret study in the archives intimidate her.

From the start of the match it was a challenge because she didn’t expect her disappointment. His gangly build betrayed the strength that lay behind the blows of the saber. But his build did not betray the disconnect he seemed to have with his own body. With every strike was a clumsy recovery she saw the potential in exploiting. In a feat of acrobatics she avoided a strike on her saber by his, and in his attempt to head her off, he threw himself off balance, and, as he tried to recover, he lost control of his saber and it pierced her leg as she landed behind him.

“Stupid, clumsy...” was her attempt to hurl an insult at him as she lay prone on the floor. The saber had immediately cauterized the gash on the back of her lower leg, but the compound fracture of her thigh caused by the fall severed the artery in her leg. The rapid and extended loss of blood as they worked to stabilize her, released her head back into unconsciousness.

Hope for Recovery

A sweet, warm, tangy scent, soft sunlight fruit orbs on stone walls, draped in ivy...I imagine its nectar would make a compelling ink. The wall is tall and I am looking across the way at it and then following the ivy down as it falls down to the ground below.

Out of the Bacta tank, she could walk a bit, but she would have to work her way back to stamina and strength that she had before the accident. The synthetic bone was strong, but the artificial muscle and tendon around it needed to adapt.

“After a few more weeks, you should get clearance to start Jedi hand-to-hand training again…with the younglings.” These were the first words she heard in these first moments out of the tank. There was no contact in those sessions just technique drills; it would be ridiculous: basics, going backwards, an undoing and redoing.

“Certainly, muscle memory will prevail,” she began, “I won’t be starting completely over, though. Right?”

“That will depend on how your body accepts the implants.”

The idea that there might be some remote possibility that she might not be able to return to her current skill level let alone continue to improve was impossible for her to process. She forced herself to sit back down on the bed to resist the urge to kick something...well attempt to kick something. Then she wanted to scream, and then she wanted to find Ben. Some Skywalker. This was all that clumsy idiot’s fault. And she felt the last of her energy drain from her with this small fit of anger.

The medical droid monitored her as he injected a serum. “This is to keep the infection from returning.” He explained. “No visitors until it’s eradicated.” He paused, reading the data he had just collected and prepared another hypospray. “You need more rest, now.”

“Wait! No.” And he injected her with a sedative. It felt like gravity changed, pinning her to the bed and her thoughts took her away from this room.

Something is making me consider the jump. It’s not a sense of urgency or instinct to flee, just a sense that I can make it. I can do it. To my left is an ongoing teal sky, darker above, lightening on the horizon. The wall protects a walkway in front of a stone tower, behind it trees, and that scent. It must be coming from the pale orange and red blooms.

**************

© Sheila Wright and Squire of the Knights of Ren, 2017. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this site’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Sheila Wright and Squire of the Knights of Ren with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Your Feelings for Them are Strong ❤️

My go-to attitude is that Valentine’s Day is a crock, a farce, a Hallmark holiday. I am an anti-sentimental, cynical hater of love, except when I fantasize about Kylo Ren. I am a fierce defender of my singlehood, but I like romantic relationships, but, even if I were to have a cherished love in real life, I have a bad reaction to conventional notions of romance, expelling it from my imagination as projectile thought vomit.

So not unusual that I am much opposed to Kylo Ren and Rey becoming romantically involved because I consider Kylo Ren MY delicious cupcake, my favorite flavor of tragedy, for me alone. The only reason I could maybe (slim chance) accept any relationship between them is if she turns to the dark side, and they don’t get married (because I don’t like that institution from our civilization imposed on the Star Wars galaxy) but even then, they just aren’t right for each other because he’s MINE, so if they allied, it better be platonic!

Besides, one of my evidence-less theories is that Rey is Leia’s daughter, from a relationship after Han and she broke up. I also have a baseless theory that Anakin had a twin and Rey is Anakin’s grand niece. So if Rey and Ren don’t remain enemies, they certainly cannot have a romantic relationship because they are related, and I say that is how it should be for the sake of my fanatical insertion in my favorite fictional galaxy far far away.

On social media there is a ton of Reylo feeds perpetuating this glob-awful relationship, and I often smirk roll my eyes when I come across them, although many have indulged their wish for this relationship with fun, charming, beautiful, comical and haunting representations inspired by this relationship.

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squireren-blog

8 years ago

Yes!!!

I am going to give my unwanted opinion on what I want to see happen to Kylo Ren in the upcoming films. So buckle up people.

As much as I would love, love, love, love, LOVE a redemption story for Kylo Ren I have come to realize that what I would love even more is to see him just completely fall into darkness. I don’t know if its because I’m just really over “Happily Ever Afters” right now, or maybe I’m just too much a pessimist but I really find redemption stories cliche right now.

I want to see Kylo Ren just become completely engulfed in rage and sadness. I want to see more of him getting hurt, pounding his wounds, and completely annihilating his enemies. I want to see him just lose himself to the Dark Side completely. I’m sure there’s something wrong with me…..being completely attracted to a character who has no hope of being redeemed.

I Am Going To Give My unwanted Opinion On What I Want To See Happen To Kylo Ren In The Upcoming Films.

I think this scenario is completely attainable too. Considering our beloved Carrie Fisher has left us(RIP General), I could see them tying this into his descent into complete and utterly unredeemable chaos. I mean imagine….he killed his own father, and now soon he’s going to find out his mother died (I’m assuming that’s how they are going to do things). I mean IMAGINE. The one piece of light in his life is now gone. GONE. I mean, no one knows how long Snoke has been messing with Ren’s head. He’s been waiting for something to change so that he can dig his hooks into him even deeper. And now this is the perfect catalyst to basically ensure Ren never turns back to the light.