It was a good afternoon to be lazy. There had always been an overbearing reason to train, to study. To grow stronger in the force, and to be part of the galactic movement to bring the Force back to it's true state. It was of the utmost import, impressed upon her constantly - and ultimately, so very tiring. She had lost track of the time she had spent doing as she was told. In all likelihood she could have been much further along in her training, but she had taken to a hobby that had delayed her growth. The 'hobby' was finding quiet, out of the way places to lay and rest when she should have been training. Being a master-less acolyte had few perks, but one of them that did exist was the ability to be almost completely overlooked.
With all the conflict of late in the galaxy, it had become almost trivial to sneak away and find a place to hide. Today she had found that no one seemed to be in the archive room - did anyone even still use this place? - and so she was laying down on top of a shelf that was used to store holocrons or something. She had admittedly not looked very close at what was held on it. Her robes had been balled up and she was using them as a pillow, her hands holding a datapad she was reading from. Not anything too intellectual to speak of, a fiction novel series that followed a gang of smugglers with their exploits. It was not what most would consider to be an 'intelligent read'. She enjoyed it, if only because these smugglers she read about were free to explore the galaxy as much as they wished.
She was in a very strange head space. A part of her wanted to refocus on training, to grow powerful enough that she could become free to come and go as she pleased. Yet procrastination just came so easily these days that she spent more time doing it than the things she was supposed to do, and she had found she rather enjoyed the peace and quiet. It left her longing and content at the same time, a duality that was hard for her to rationalize even to herself. It was a good thing she bad not been made to explain it to anyone else. Idly her fingers traced over the scar on her abdomen, feeling it through her clothes. It was an action that had become more habit than anything, not even pulling her attention away from the drab novel she was reading. Yes, it was indeed another good afternoon to be a lazy acolyte.
With all the conflict of late in the galaxy, it had become almost trivial to sneak away and find a place to hide. Today she had found that no one seemed to be in the archive room - did anyone even still use this place? - and so she was laying down on top of a shelf that was used to store holocrons or something. She had admittedly not looked very close at what was held on it. Her robes had been balled up and she was using them as a pillow, her hands holding a datapad she was reading from. Not anything too intellectual to speak of, a fiction novel series that followed a gang of smugglers with their exploits. It was not what most would consider to be an 'intelligent read'. She enjoyed it, if only because these smugglers she read about were free to explore the galaxy as much as they wished.
She was in a very strange head space. A part of her wanted to refocus on training, to grow powerful enough that she could become free to come and go as she pleased. Yet procrastination just came so easily these days that she spent more time doing it than the things she was supposed to do, and she had found she rather enjoyed the peace and quiet. It left her longing and content at the same time, a duality that was hard for her to rationalize even to herself. It was a good thing she bad not been made to explain it to anyone else. Idly her fingers traced over the scar on her abdomen, feeling it through her clothes. It was an action that had become more habit than anything, not even pulling her attention away from the drab novel she was reading. Yes, it was indeed another good afternoon to be a lazy acolyte.