Dust to Dust (Ask)

[Sterling Malory Archer]

Korriban. Ancient homeworld to the sith and those who followed their example... To most, no more than a dusty place to learn. However... To Pauru? This was home... More than home, this was opportunity.

The young Acolyte strolled through the halls of the academy, sand colored cloak swishing about against the floor and making a teltale scratching sound. The hood was kept up despite him not being out in the heat... Obscuring most of the young man's visage. What could be seen hinted at a rough upbringing. Tanned skin was tough and taut from sun exposure. Blue eyes held no hint of mirth or friendliness. Just cold arrogance. Worst of all was the smile. Too white teeth, almost like bleached bone, occupied his mouth. All in all, he didnt seem like someone you trod on lightly. And he was walking with a purpose through those stone halls.

Pauru rounded a corner and pressed the panel on the wall, opening a door to one of the many training rooms. He headed inside and shut the door behind him before losing the cloak, only comfortable doing it away from the prying eyes of so many other acolytes. Reaching out with the force, the Acolyte activated one of the training drones and sent it hovering in the air. Awaiting the activation of his lightsaber to begin the session. Red light filled the area with a familiar snap-hiss and Pauru faced off with the droid. Saber held high in the guard position of his chosen form. Waiting... Waiting for a strike...

 

[Okran]

The Korriban academy. It had been ages since Fayath had been in a place enriched by the force, though this was on a whole other level from the places she had been. Her "vision" was far more clear than she had ever experienced in what she could remember of her life. The black hood over her vest casts a deep shadow over her face, amber locks cascading down in front of her face. Even with this beings so, she glides through the crowded halls, filled with the hustle and bustle and fresh Acolytes, effortlessly bobbing and weaving through them all.

She comes upon what she perceives to be her destination, though she had found it quite easy to find her self lost in the still new to her place. Her head gingerly raises to press against the panel to one of the rooms she comes a crossed, causing the entrance to slide open for her to usher herself inside. Normally, she would check the interior of a room before entering, doing her best to avoid the attention of others, though it seemed she was to busy taking in the spectacle around her. As she brings herself to a stop within the room, a small sigh escapes upon hearing the door close behind her. It was only at this moment that she began taking in the room around her.

Her searching stops abruptly as she notices something hovering in the air with an individual standing before it, a small sigh escaping her as she realizes her mistake. Her face turns towards the individual as though she were looking at what he were doing, though she remains mostly silent for the time being, unsure whether her presence here would be undesired. Only a low "Hmm" would escape her.

 

[Sterling Malory Archer]

Pauru didnt seem to notice the female at first, his entire attention on the remote as it hovered in the air before him. Spinning and making little hissing sounds as its repulsors propelled it from side to side. Quite without warning, the remote began to fire little stun bolts. Nothing damaging, but enough to be painful. That is, if the person on the other end was struck by them. And that just didnt seem to be the case. The young man's blade came down from its starting position to catch the bolts, sending them back in the remotes general direction. True, he lacked the precision to do any damage with them... Or to outright send them into the Remote in retaliation... But he was making progress. And progress he could live with. Especially over HIS peers.

Truth be told, Pauru didnt exactly have a high opinion of his peers. As far as he was concerned... Most of them werent worth the water in their bodies. And from someone raised in deep deserts? There wasnt really a greater insult. Pauru continued his dance with the remote, deflecting the bolts back towards it until, lo and behold, one of them struck home and sent the little droid spinning around. Deactivating it. As it came to a stop, Pauru straightened up and allowed his blade arm to relax slightly. Holding the Lightsaber still humming at an angle to the ground.

"Just gonna stare?" His voice was like gasoline on gravel. Coarse and acrid. And simply dripping with disdain. He didnt like people who snuck around. And he percieved her quiet nature to be... Sneaky.

 

[Okran]

Flinches ever so slightly as she hears herself being addressed by the stranger. The voice of this man sent a silent rage trembling through her body, reminding her of days since passed. Her teeth tighten for a moment before taking a deep breath through her nose and relaxing her jaw. She takes her time moistening her lips before parting them to reply, her head cocking off at an angle. "Apologies. Only assumed it best not to distract you. You seemed to be having a hard enough time as it was." she chimes in with a hint of a smirk curling up the corner of her lips.

Folding her hands before her, she turns on her heels to make her way over to a corner of the room. She had started with a search for a room that she could be alone with her thoughts in, instead finding one where she could enjoy something far greater. Being annoyance to someone. She folds her hands before her waist as she casually lowers herself to her knees, rocking back to sit upon her feet. Normally one would lower their head for their meditation, though that wasn't her goal at the moment. Her face would remain pointed in the mans direction, though her "sight" had long since ventured elsewhere. She takes in more of the spectacle that is the Sith Academy. Using her far reaching sight look over the vast majority of the complex.

 

[Asinine Soup]

Truth be told, it was the unadulterated, melodramatic tone mixed with the smart-alec, know-it-all vocals that labeled the young Lady Sunsinger as strangely, calculatingly reticent and boldly talkative. It was a trait she had no desire to work on, truthfully, for it it not only allowed her to pique others' true emotions without use of the Force, but allowed her to bend others to their natural state - Sith had a tendency to be naturally angry and loathing.

A brief aside for the beautiful Lillieth Sunsinger as she boot-clatters down the hall, passing fellow Acolytes and students. Her fluid, free-flowing ebony robe (home to beautiful pattern and thread work) brushing along the dusty tile below and adding to the splotches of brown which tainted her otherwise spotless attire. Gloved fingertips trickle along the wall as the training rooms - one group of several within Korriban's Academy - are approached and her go-to locale apparently encroached. Well...wasn't this a treat?
Two others - one with her hood pulled darkly over her face, effectively cloaking her line of sight, and one...rather large individual (who admittedly reminded her of her favorite unfriendly neighborhood giant) in the middle of the room, blade brazen and blazing - were within what she considered her favorite training spot, and were it not for her quick tongue, the encounter would have likely been a tad more awkward than what it may have already been.
Lady Sunsinger subtly senses that the girl in the corner had marked her presence far before she even entered the door, Force being both their allies for their individual means of information gathering, though given she'd entered what may be a private session ("Given the sensible tension, I doubt these two are recluse lovers..." Lillieth mentally notes), there was no reason why eyes and attention wouldn't be upon her. So she flashes a smile and tightens her glove upon her right palm.

"Good afternoon, you two," she begins, voice enthusiastic as it were venomous, "And to whom do I owe the pleasure of sharing a training room-and-per-haps-session to?", pausing distinctly between each syllable as amber eyes flicker between both individuals present. One didn't even glance up, the other simply stood there, fairly imposing given his height and bulk.
"I dare say the room neighboring this one is occupied, and being this room - despite not having my name etched in stone to the doorway - is well known as being...mine." She speaks with the swiftness of a snake...or a politician, though they're typically one in the same.
"Though sharing is, indeed, caring, daddy always used to say..." is murmured afterward, not entirely meant for the two to hear, though no doubt they would.

With a roll of her shoulders, she begins making herself comfortable, boot steps echoing within the room as she simply hands her robing to a favored knob near the entrance, long-hilted Lightsaber glinting in the low-light, inadvertently displaying the weapon in her pursuit of comfort.
She keeps her mind's eye fluid within the Force to sense shifts in emotion, movement, intent...because with other, unknown Sith?...You'd never know until it was too late. She wouldn't be caught off guard...again...

Amber eyes fall upon the two, then, as she stands as the third-point in an imaginary triangle the trio created with their positions in the room. She refrains from speaking, though after initial introductions would have passed, she would have tossed a smirk - more likely than not - and let off an airy sigh which would become synonymous with a simple question, voice poetic, fluid: "Will you be joining me in the dancing?"

She's notably standing near the simulation controls.

 

[Sterling Malory Archer]

The acolyte just sort of grunted rather than directly addressing the female's insolence, keeping his lightsaber held tight. No sooner was he about to reactivate the training protocol... Than was he so rudely interrupted by another Female barging in on his training session. Seriously? Was this going to become a thing? Did females enjoy ruining his fun and generally being petulant? Truthfully, Pauru toned out most of Lillieth's words. Writing her tone off as belonging to a liar. A snake. Someone he did not plan to trust as far as he could throw her.

At the mention of dancing, no doubt as a euphamism for fighting, Pauru just growled and grumbled and shook his head. Nope. All of his nope. But... Now he had to look at the situation from a tactical standpoint. He was in a room... With two unknown females. One of which was within range of the rooms training console... And had a lightsaber. Meaning that she knew how to use it without killing herself. Could he take her? Probably. But that would mean relying on the other female to stay out of the way.

"I never was much of a dancer. Two left feet. But if you want to ease on over this way, I can oblige you with a fight. Since that seems to be what you were picking from the start. Why else would you be so.... Impudent." His voice was just as gruff as before. However... This time there was arrogance there. The Arrogance of someone who was used to bending things until they either suited him... Or broke. He offered a slight salute with the tip of his lightsaber. No more than a twitch, really.

"Shall we... Begin?"

 

[Okran]

Fayath's attention would of quickly adjusted at the presence of the new addition to their little slice of sith academy heaven. She searched for an empty room and found one that seemed like it would soon be filled. The corner of her smile curls up ever so slightly as she finds herself recognizing the new addition. It would seem the gesture were one sided though as things transpired as they did. It held no matter for the time being. She seemed to have other things on the mind for the time being. Silently the young lady would remain in her meditative posture as she oversaw the two for now. She had no reason, nor desire to get between the two and there spot of "dancing." They could dance until their feet fell off for all she cared, though it wouldn't hurt for her to judge her fellow Acolytes strengths.

 

[Asinine Soup]

"Oh, I'm sorry," the red-headed girl cants, her bubbly laugh and effervescent demeanor not at all reflecting the malice behind her words. "I wasn't aware Training Dummies held the capacity to feel subject to impertinence. Truly, my apologies."
With a stray fingertip to associate the stray strands of hair that fell over her jawline, the hair is tucked soundly behind the ear as more of her profile is revealed. Once again, she found herself speaking to a polar opposite of her own - a Jorath in the making, though without the training, with two times the bravado, and likely a fraction of the ability. But she wouldn't underestimate. That's what got Jorath a kick in the undesirables their first fight.

A short-lived giggle (not meant as a taunt, though may have been projected as one) escapes her throat as she steps forward, reveling in the memory of her few acquaintances she picked up within nearing her first year on Korriban. A knob is adjusted on the lightsaber in her hand to slightly shift the length of her blade, and then the restraining bolt is activated so that she wouldn't chop off a brute's fingertips in the process of training her hybrid stance-work.
"Hm." Lillieth hums matter-of-factly as a press of the ignition on the blade releases the restrained rage of a crimson crystal and the hiss of an oppressed blade that longed for more blood. It escapes its prison with a shrieking hiss and makes its presence known with a continuous hum of insatiable fury, despite the irony of the crystal within.

The wielder of the weapon brings the weapon alight vertical along her face. "Show me what respect you deserve as you stand in my training room, dear," Lillieth finally concludes. The Makashi salute flourishes as she begins basking in her training within the marks of contact, deciding to keep her selected style between forms reserved...for now. As her blade arcs and falls down as though welcoming a strike, her opposite hand twitches lightly in anticipation, amber eyes piercing and remaining upon the oceanic blue hues of her opponent's.

"Begin, we shall."

Lillieth didn't pick fights, but this boy suddenly urged her to remember why she didn't like her current partner, at first. Humbling lessons were a necessity here, and what better way to welcome a fresh Acolyte than a beat down?...She received her own, now she plays her role to forward the favor to others who only seemed to welcome the tradition.

 

[Sterling Malory Archer]

Well if that just didn’t beat all… She was still talking. More than he could say about most people when he offered them violence. Usually it went one of two ways… They backed down, or they started right in swinging. As it stood, he just offered her a cold sneer. Blue eyes focused on her and left hand twitching in anticipation. Oh… Now this was going to be fun. “Respect is fought for and won… Not bought with words. You want me to respect you? Make me.” The words carried weight, the tension practically palpable in the air.

Pauru shifted his bulk to face her fully, blade lifted and held in Djem So classic style. He recognized her salute. The cliché salute of every Makashi user… And it made him angry. Not because of her choice in style, but because to him? That salute represented a mockery of his threat as an opponent. Not that it actually meant that at all… But to his mind? His way of looking at the verse? It was nothing but a taunt. A taunt he would respond to in kind. The mountain of an acolyte held out his blade arm, making a show of flicking it over to training mode. So as to avoid any accidents. For either of them. However it was sleight of hand. A ploy to draw her attention to the blade and away from the real threat.

The Acolyte suddenly thrust his left hand forwards, releasing a wave of raw force energy. Intending to stagger her. Even as his hand fell, his legs tensed and sent Pauru flying forwards to meet his opponent. Blade coming across from right to left with his full weight behind the strike.

“Besides. We’ve yet to determine… Whose room this is.”

 

[Asinine Soup]

The spar opens with a raw gust of Force energy that sends Lillieth's clothing and hair rippling in the intended direction of the output, Lillieth's small frame seemingly on the move as it occurred.
While the conjuring of the Force on the young man's was far from a recherche display, it did its intended purpose in causing the Lady Sunsinger to stumble back...but Makashi was all about footwork. Within her most trained form, she strafes and gathers her step-by-step footwork as space is made between the two, boots sliding along the tile beneath as she simply watches little-Jorath wind up for the home run.

An interesting feat to show tact instead of simply swinging away, though this person held a lightsaber - they were likely not as new as most fresh candidates tended to be, as green as Yavin IV in the pursuit of the martial arts. Her own art, however, was the pursuit of her wording. She chose the word 'dance' carefully, for that's exactly what she intended to do; his blade swings and successfully strikes the air and nothing more, Lillieth pivoting a twirl clockwise as the weapon narrowly avoids her, the Nensanto side of her rearing its head temporarily before reverting back into a Form II dedication; the push had stumbled her, but the constant movement coupled with her acrobatic nature (one of the only things she had going for herself) seemed to aid in her sturdy footwork.
Lacin' up the Air Korriban.
As the blade swings on past, light footwork sends the redhead sliding and reeling in toward Zone Two's inner ring of her opponent.
Ah, and what a wonderful place to be, despite the size and strength differential. She keeps her senses open as her spin and weave complete with a quick slash-blur of a crimson weapon threatens to take a graze along the right leg (Zone 6) - mainly the back of the knee as Lillieth's strafe keeps her moving in a fashion that were Pauru to remain in the position that he initially swung, Lillieth would quickly find herself behind him at an angle. "Your aim could use work." she quickly retorts, nearly urging the man to become more wide-arced than he already was, nearly taunting in her snide, typical way.

All in a single, non-linear movement. Her strike would find its way toward its target with the intent to stun and imbalance around the same time Parau slipped out the word "determine..."

Her free hand, by now, drops to a ready to assist her blade hand in its pursuit to begin the first stage of her takedown. Time to roll with the punches.

 

[Okran]

Fayath tilts her head off to the side ever so slightly as she observes the beginnings of the spar. It was quite the spectacle, she would have to say. The way they moved in response to one another, it truly did look like a dance from her perspective. Though, her perspective was indeed a bit different than most, giving even the must mundane things an attractiveness.

 

[Sterling Malory Archer]

The hulking acolyte stumbled forwards against the nearby wall as his attack was avoided and countered in one swift motion. A searing pain marking the back of one leg and telling him just how badly he would be in trouble had this been an actual fight for his life. Well, who knew. The day was young... It might yet progress that far. Pushing off from the wall with a snarl, Pauru lashed out with the lightsaber in a tight arc. More to force his opponent to back away than to cause any real damage. He REALLY didnt like having his back to a wall. Literally or metaphorically. And both were the case in this fight.

"You fight like you talk..."

That said, he didnt engage again. Merely remaining in his stance. Blue eyes focused. He... Really didnt like being without his robes... He felt exposed. Oddly enough, he kept his arrogant demeanor despite the blow he had taken. Not cocky, really. He knew his limits in a fight. But... Despite that, he just seemed like he felt he was higher than everyone else in the room. Truth be told, there was only one person he respected. And that individual wasnt THERE to discipline him.

"Sneaky."

He kept the blade up though. Prepared to deal with whatever offsides blow the woman chose to throw at him next. He wasnt going to be caught off guard again.

 

[Asinine Soup]

A Lightsaber is sent searing toward her, arcing, its intended job doing exactly as it were intended. With a gentle pivot and graceful slide, Lillieth smoothly - yet sternly - cuts her own blade leftward, only aiming to use the opposition's weapon momentum to fuel her parry. It doesn't go off and deflect as a traditional means would hold, rather cascade and spin in lieu of Pauru's strength. It was something of a non-verbose taunt, in a way, as her blade flickers right back to starting position, effectively out of range.

"And your bladesmanship is about as fancy as your footwork, sweetie." she retorts with a grin. A static arc of blue chirps about her freehand, the Force radiating within it as a second cackle of electricity marks the technique as true. It was nobody's imagination what had just occurred, no. Was she reserving that free hand for something? She wouldn't tell - only continue with her pursuit a heartbeat later.
Stepping forward, she intends to (apparently) begin with some outer-range footwork and slashes, one - if left alone - would threaten to, maybe, singe the mid-point of her target's lightsaber to generate a sharp *hiss* and flash of white.

Her feet continue moving forward as she does so.

 

[Okran]

Fayath adjusts her attention to more interesting topics as she grows board of all the chit chat and theatrics. With the arrival of the familiar face, the cogs would of been set to turning, remembering something she had seen the woman do in days past. If Lillieth could do it, she should be able to right? She takes in a slow deep breath as she focuses upon a small pebble that some unknowing contributor to her training brought in for just this occasion. In all honesty, she had no idea where to even start on this task. She now considers she probably should of gotten a few pointers before hand, but they seemed content with there dual for the time being. Having a nature talent for calling on the force, much like most of her species, that wouldn't be the problem. It was how to go about actually making the pebble move that perplexed her. Sure she could heighten her own physical abilities and replace those she was without, but she had never outwardly projected the energy to effect something else.

She takes in a slow deep breath as her hand lift from her lap to outstretch towards the small bit of earth as she begins channeling the energy that was so abundant in this academy, attempting to send it outwards towards the object to make it dance. Well move...even a wiggle would do at this point, though nothing would come from her feeble attempt. "Perhaps I really should wait until they are done..." she mumbles to herself just as her attention is drawn back to the fight at hand by the building up of energy in one of Lillieth's hands. "...seems there is more to her than I though." she thinks as she awaits the results.

 

[Sterling Malory Archer]

Well this was definately not what the large sith intended to deal with. He wanted a fight. Not a dance with some red headed harlot. The Acolyte brought his weapon down in a smoothe motion, growling loudly. His intention was to use the powerful strokes of Djem So to counter her faster strikes, sending a slash to the side to match the first strike and hopefully sending it wide. He wasnt unaware of the lightning. He was just too pissed off to care, and he was making mistakes.

Even so, after the initial countering blow, Pauru moved a bit quicker. He let go with his left hand and brought his saber to the left. Anticipating a follow up strike. After all, she had been following the momentum of his blows so far. Reason dictated the next strike would come from the other side. So he moved his saber into position and stepped into the attack...

Sending a left handed jab right at her head.

A brutal and stupid tactic? Yes. But probably not one she would expect.

"You talk too much."

 

[Asinine Soup]

Emitting a grunt, Lillieth is skimmed within the face. The impact held enough force throughout, however, to send her back regardless - she may have been fast, but underestimating the boy was something that she would have to focus on not doing from now on. The red-headed girl is sent stumbling back, nearly floored, however - like a cat - leaps after trailing along the tips of her fingernails back to starting position, summersalting into a ready position...lightning still cackling in her hand.

"You hit me in the face." she says in a nonchalant fashion, blank stare as it appeared she may have been a tad upset. A bonus: the smile was wiped off her face, that was for sure. The little bump of a half-busted lip is apparent on her face, and when it became apparent that she wasn't all too thrilled, she strafes forward in a light blur of black and fiery red. With the lightsaber in her hand a whirlwind of vertical energy, a straight-forward strike jabbing like a rapier. It threatened to strike a heavy Acolyte's chest, but while she, herself, was rather light and soft, it would be a mistake to think she were disabled in melee combat without a saber. With a twist of the wrist and arm, a secondary strike arcs about, though it would only become apparent that the duck-and-dodge nature of her forward attack was meant to create an opening to send a Force-filled flying knee to her opponent's nose...lightning dissipating from her hand as it seemed she wouldn't be focusing on her old plan as of now.

Were he knee to miss, a whirl of a lightsaber would elect forth to gather her balance to glide past and defend against attacks that may flicker her way; were it to land, the knee being used as a catalyst to continue forward with the same burst of supreme speed and Force.

Pun intended.

 

[Okran]

The force continues to flow through Fayath as she channels it towards the small pebble trying to get even the slightest movement out of the thing. Then again, even if she had gotten it to start moving, she wouldn't of noticed. She kept finding parts of their battle that seemed so much more entertaining than figuring out how to move this rock on her own. Her fingers flex a few times before falling to rest upon her lap once more. It was clear to her which of the combatants seemed to be the more skilled in this dual, though she knew that would matter little if egos came into play. A light sigh escapes the young lady as she settles herself in to simply observe for now.

 

[Viabuck]

"Funny how she keeps getting hit in the mouth for talking too much.." a voice which should have been extremely familiar to Lillieth and slightly less so to Pauru would state, the sound of heavy footsteps being heard moving along toward the training grounds. As the footsteps would grow closer, the massive Crusader known as Jorath Baylor would arrive on the scene of the match, a broad grin spread across his face as he took in what was transpiring in front of him.

"My partner and my Acolyte are fighting... Did Lillieth call him a third rate me or is this because he insulted her in some way? I assume you've been watc-..." Jorath paused for a moment, taking a moment to glance over to whom he was speaking, looking at Fayath for several moments, a hand reaching up to scratch his goatee.

"Well I don't suppose you've been watching much of anything now have you?"

Ah, yes. Ever the picture of class, Jorath had just taken a shot at the blind girl who had for one reason or another chosen to attend the match. While he could only assume that she had some means of coping with her disability, it never was easy for him to take a pot shot when the opportunity presented itself to him. Not dwelling on that fact however, he would turn his attention shortly afterward to the exchange taking place before him.

"I wouldn't let her stay close for too long... You'll want to drive her back or she's going to beat your ass worse than I'm going to for losing to a girl.."

Ever the inspiring and understanding teacher, Jorath felt it was important to egg his student on.

 

[Sterling Malory Archer]

Truth be told, Pauru didn’t really have a plan beyond his initial punch to the face one. He honestly didn’t expect THAT to work. “You still talk too much.” He managed to growl out, anger continuing to boil over. What could he say… He had a hot temper. Probably came from his Tatooine heritage. A weakness which turned in his favor the moment she initiated her stabby jab maneuver. Resuming his two handed Djem So grip, Pauru stepped back and countered hard, blade moving left to right to knock her weapon wide to Show off his abundance of natural strength. Of course that’s as far as his thought process really took him. Angrily smash other persons weapon off to one side, check… Counter move?

Processing…

Oh, right. Do the thing. Pauru brought up his weapon and aimed to bring it crashing down on her shoulder… Only to be made aware of a knee rapidly approaching his nose…. Huh… Well, that was going to be incredibly… Yeah… The big acolyte started to move, but lets be honest. Lillieth had speed and initiative on him. The best Pauru could do was shift his face, letting the strike hit his cheek instead and sending him stumbling back. Angry, stunned, and in pain. The knee strike would no doubt leave a spectacular bruise. However, it didn’t take long for the resilient Acolyte to get up. And get mean. The intial strike had sent Pauru stumbling into a wall, something he used to his advantage as he launched himself towards her. Not to slash or anything.

He simply threw both hands out at her. His pain and his anger focused on one task… One single command exerted through the force. He wanted her gone. Away from him. As far as he could get her. So he reflexively used the force like a battering ram, with none of the control or focus… Just raw power. A feat that would no doubt leave him vulnerable and tired… But hey. He wasn’t thinking straight. Dude was angry.

 

[Asinine Soup]

Lillieth's knee stings with the impact that it made, but that wouldn't be enough, would it? Here's Jorath giving the guy advice on how to remain alive - well, in a way, it would work. While the point of a huge conjuring of kinetic Force energy was meant to send her barreling back to the other side of the room, likely into the ceiling or wall given her angle, a furrow of red-headed angst and articulated precision sends her light weight pirouetting through the air as though preemptively plotting around her opponent's applied usage of the Force.

In a way, however, that's exactly what she happened to be doing. She could feel - not his intent - but the Force building within him. She wouldn't shortchange the man, no, not at all, by assuming he knew of only one technique within the Force's usage. But he did use it before...and rather effectively, mind you, for it served its purpose.
This time, however, it would not. The wave of energy bellows right past Lillieth as her leverage from her kick initiates her acrobatic tendencies, said wall of Force threatening to send her soaring...though, instead, only sending her hair spraying about in the meantime. The more important part of her 'barrel roll' within the air was that she capitulated her counter-oriented striking, opting not to enter physical melee combat with the tiny-hulk, but to punish for thinking a flyswatter could bid an eagle farewell.

"This may come as a shock to you..." she says haphazardly, swiftly, contritely as it rolls off the tongue.
Hairs stand up on end.

An abusive force of light, energy, and cackling electricity shoots forth toward the expecting Acolyte, rays of blue and purple arcing and threatening to render an opponent nothing more than a target practice dummy; as rays pursue fraying the nervous system, Lillieth's extended fingertips would retract (not seeking to permanently damage her target), boots clapping lightly as she lands on the ground, and her final technique attempting to lunge forward and impale the student within the abdomen with her elongated, albeit ill-powered, Lightsaber blade.
If struck, a *pttz-buzz* sound would radiate the room, the shocking and painful nature of the blade being unable to plunge through a solid mass becoming apparent, though that didn't mean it wouldn't feel as though that's exactly what happened.

Lillieth, throughout at this point, had begun to have to manually control her breathing, thin red strands of hair falling about her cheek in an unkempt fashion.