Roxas Jarek

"Yes sir Master Starlisk." Roxas said nodding, and turned towards the hallway once more. 'Okay. Keep it simple. I want to go to the other end of this hallway. Focus. Other end of hallway. Focus.' Thoughts began to bubble up to the surface of his mind, crowding around the other end of the hallway. They were questions, answers, unused ideologies, philosophies, reminders- it was as if his mind, like a trash can, had suddenly tipped over and spilled out, spreading over and covering whatever he was trying to focus on- was it? Yes. The other end of the hallway. Atrophy. Blindness. If I were to use a G minor chord there it could work out- If it's only 9 credits, then I probably should- I need to remember to- wait, if the community is more important than the individual, how is the individual at all important? Why is Individuality important in some comunites then? It's an oxymoron- I'm counting 2. Counting 3. Counting 4. Counting 5- 6-7-8-9-10-31-04-591-58-139- Roxas froze. Attempting to collect his thoughts, he abandoned the position he was in, abandoning the other end of the hallway. Immediately the puzzle box came to mind. "Master Starlisk, I'm having a hard time focusing- I'm not trying to get out of training or anything- but would you mind if we talked about something? I don't know if it's important or not... I was meditating the other day and came across something that I didn't know what to make of- I think I can probably solve it on my own, but would you mind hearing about it?"

((Edit: Deleted double post, post is down there. V V))

Strangely at this point Roxas was not fazed by Master Starlisk's speed. He had heard that the Jedi could do things like this, but actually witnessing it in progress was extremely interesting. As Master Starlisk ran Roxas could sense the fluctuation in the Force within him. As if the very Medicloreans in his body caused his leg muscles to expand in size for a brief period of time, managing them as if they were normaly this size, then shrink back down to a normal size. "Well that was really really cool." Roxas said somewhat dumbly to himself. He decided that he wanted to try it. He visualized himself moving at a faster speed, the wind whipping by him. He swore to himself that he could feel his calf muscles expanding. He focused on his legs. His tiny, sparrow like legs becoming blurs of light. His arms pumping through the air- the air whipping through his hair- his hair streaming behind him- and behind him his elbows are moving like a locomotive's pistons- which powers his pumping arms... He repeated this image through his mind, creating a loop, and began to run. He couldn't run as fast as Master Starlisk- but what he could do is run faster than he could before. What possibly could have taken him around 70 seconds to run down the hallway now had been shaven down to a mere 35, and soon he had to stop- Unfortunately he didn't have as much control as he thought he had- and when the matience crew was done fixing the hangar, they would next find a pair of long scuff marks made from Roxas Jarek's now damaged shoes. "Master Starlisk-" He said after hearing the long screech of his slowing- which fortunately did not cause him to run into the wall- "I think we should find somewhere that I can't damage too badly..."

"Hmm... I'm not sure. I think there's a fine line between 'should' and 'will' though, I mean, I should have just been moving boxes earlier, but instead I had to block a missle from seperating what amount of life I have in me around 5 galaxies away from my physical self, which would have probably been in a few different places as well." He jabbed jokingly, adding a nervous, somewhat disapproving chuckle. "Well, we've already talked about telekinesis, so maybe dab a little into more defensive stuff? I definately need to learn some self defense- my... inability to be of any help with the situation on the Dauntless was a clear indicator of that I believe." He paused for a moment. "And I think my force sight has improved to the point that I think I should be fine against a target that I can at least somewhat sense, so really it might be up to you, Master Starlisk."

In the corridors of Roxas' mind. He saw himself holding a small puzzle box. Smirking, he attempts to open the box, but with every turn of a side the smirk disapates to a grim frown, becuase with each turn, an uneasy sense of dread eats at the edge of his conscience. Turn after turn, the feeling grows, until the final turn is at hand. The solution to the puzzle is before him, the contents of the box so close to exposure. A deep breath, and finally curiousity overtakes his hands, and the final piece twists into place... Roxas snaps out of his meditation in a cold sweat. He shakes visions of puzzle boxes out of his head and utters a single phrase. "Troubling, this is."

"From the fryingpan..." Roxas drawled, the adrenalin coursing through his veins calming him slightly. He threw out his hands towards the shuttle, backing away towards the door and cushioned the shuttle with the force, slowing it down to almost a crawl, and then finally to a stop. His final task (what he hoped was the final task) finished, he slumped up against the wall, panting for breath. He sensed the destruction of the ceiling, and let out a low whistle. "I hope that won't cost much to fix..."

Roxas heard the whine of the missle blasting out from under the shuttle's wing, and turned to face it, frozen in that spot. Terror gripped at him, and sent his mind into a frenzious cacouphy of thought. Not so much thought, but more like useless noise. Lament and greif at death, pure panic, all these thoughts confused his body and made it practically imposible to move. Suddenly he heard the shout, although heard was not how he recieved it. "FOCUS!" the screaming in his head stopped and he imagined a small reticle on the rapidly approaching missle. Concentrating on the explosive, he held out both his hands instead of running, which probably would have been a safer idea. He thought of it, imagined it being cushioned into a halt, and sure enough, the missle began to slow in it's death stroll. However, it would not come to a stop, and after a burst uncharacteristically quick thought, he made a small slide that curved upwards through the force, causing it to arc upwards and explode into the ceiling. He cursed under his breath and turned towards the shuttle, and began shouting at Master Starlisk. "OoopS? Geez! You almost- (sigh)." Roxas sat down on the floor, drained from the near death experience. "Sorry, I'm just a little- (forced sigh). Not every day that a missle gets shot at you." ((Sorry about not posting, struggled with how to do this one. I should have at least done something))

The shuttle sped away, leaving a confused look on Roxas' face. "Huh. That was weird." Shrugging, and enforcing the mantra "size makes no differnce", into the back of his mind, he attempted to lift the much larger crate. The overall report he would later give to Master Starlisk once he came back would be breif and vauge. "Well, I got it up a few times... kinda." Although he had accepted what Master Starlisk had told him, there was still a small block in the small of his subconscious, like a Thermopylean spartan, courageously unearing. It's removal would open many doors to Roxas, and incite another step in his journey and his change. But this is the nature of change. And the idea understood this. But much like the selfishness still festering within him, it would not budge without a fight.

The next few hours consisted of the box being moved many many times. If it was capable of senient thought, it's overall demeanor could be summed up in a simple statement. "Y'know, there are other boxes here. Bigger ones, smaller ones, some as big as yer head, (chuckle),I mean, it's not as if you need to specifically move just me around. Not that I mind really, if anything, that one guy needs to move other stuff around too, like, I mean... experience! Yes." After many failed attempts at levitating the box, and a few amount of successes, Roxas began to feel annoyed with himself. "Dagnabit, I should be- *Frustrated sigh* no emotion, peace. peace peace peace." After calming down, the new round of box levitation began, this time with more successes and a few times being able to fully suspend the box at least 2 feet in the air without spinning, and bringing it back to the ground without going into free fall.

His task set before him, Roxas nodded and shifted himself to face the small errant box. Uncomfortably, (and feeling sort of foolish), he held out the palm of his hand open towards the box, as if trying to attain some manner of aim on the cube. Flushing the doubt that slowly began to creep up in his mind, he focused on the box, and envisioned it slowly rising in the air, and holding a steady position. Concentrating on this scenario, he implanted a will to make it happen from the stance he was in. He envisioned himself physically picking up the box, but again, held his stance. Soon enough, slowly but surely, the box began to float into the air peacefully, relieved from the shaky flight it had been given before. It spun slightly in it's flight, serenely twirling like a ballet dancer, and as soon as it had begun, disturbances marred it's flight, the box began to quiver violently until finally falling back to the ground again. Roxas twitched slightly from the expanding and contracting of the air molecules as they rushed out from under the tumbling box.

"Okay, I'll try." Roxas closed his eyes, and tried to shut out distractions around him. He felt his nerves turn into pure heat, the tension and aprehension within him churned doubt out of his mind, causing him to tense his muscles. 'What if I can't feel anything? I can't fail. I can't fail now, if I do, what will I do?' He tried sitting, crossing his legs in faux meditation, and in this position a cool voice called softly in the back of his mind, telling him to relax, to let go. Taking deep breaths, he let his tension melt into the voice, and followed it. And slowly, like a cool wind blowing across a feild, the visions began. He could see figures entering the room, and watched them as they slowly became battle hardened tools for whatever cause they served. He watched in astonishment as the details of their forms became somewhat apparent, although their features were still a blur. Unknowingly, a small box of around 15 inches in height levitated in the air only slightly hovering from the ground, fluxuating in it's height so drastically that the dull "whump"-ing sound of it coming in contact with the ground again was reverberating through the room. This shook Roxas from his meditation, and it fell to the ground from the apex of it's floatation abruptly. Another surprise went through Roxas, as suddenly, just like the figures who had entered the room like vague aparitions, small details were more apparent to him than before, akin with the figures however, was the lack of focus in the lines, still blurry but apparent. "I think- alot of people have trained in this room. I could see them... kind of." He said, standing up. "Was I moving that box earlier?" He asked, pointing in the general direction of the phantom storage utility.

Roxas cleared his throat. "There is no emotion, there is only peace, There is no... ignorance, there is knowledge, There is no passion, there is serenity, There is no chaos, there is harmony, there is on death, there is only the force..." "Right?" Memorizing things were not Roxas' strong point, but the words had weight to them, so he decided he would recite them every morning as soon as he woke up until he laid down to sleep. "If I may be so bold Master," Roxas began, "Now what?" Roxas could have sworn he felt his left foot tingle as he began his step in the new journey ahead.

Roxas' face reflected the demeanor of the conversation. After processing the weight of Master Starlisk's words, he nodded assuredly. "Yes, I am ready." The words caused a part of Roxas to flare up slightly, the part of him that yearned for selfishness, graditute and gain. These words were a threat to the very existence of the idea, and it in turn recoiled fearfully at the word's stinging maw. But in gloating in the silnece that fell afterwards, the idea assured the selflessness this fact. There would be conflict- and it will be difficult, and the idea would not budge without a strenuous fight. The kinghts of the two ideas met at the battlefeild of the cerebrum. It had begun. Edit: Spelling

Roxas awoke in a daze. Startled from a nightmare he searched his surroundings through the force, but the only information that his inept skills provided was that he was in a room on Mon Calamari, an alliance base. He wiped the beads of sweat from his face and tried to recall everything that had happened. The destruction of the Dauntless, fleeing back to Mon Calamari, the great dread that he experienced that drained him... Much had happened in the last few weeks, yet he had done nothing. Yet now, he felt a call on the edges of his conscious. Master Starlisk was calling him- he had been brought back! This new knowledge quickened his pace in gathering his clothing and walking out of the door. He zoomed down the hallways, his intuition guiding him, giving general directions until he happened upon the familiar glow of the force. "Master Starlisk! It's good to see you again." He shook the man's hand fervently. "I appologize, I haven't been very good apprentice so far, passing out and just leaving like I did-" his words began to smoosh together "but what would I have done, I mean I can't even use a blaster- and now I don't know how I got here, but I think I do- I think you called me didn't you? Do you need me for something? I imagine you're pretty weak from just waking up from the cloning, do you need me to go to the grocery store?" Roxas' mouth never seemed to stop producing more words to fill the air of the reunited Master and Apprentice. ((OOC: Sorry about 'just leaving' guys, I swear I'll be more serious about posting from now on.))

Roxas felt useless. He stood off to the side on the bridge of the Dauntless, watching the puzzling 'battle' progress. He felt somehow in the way, and decided that now was as good as any time to try to practice a little, even with just a blaster. He went to the Dauntless' training room and picked up a blaster, and initiated the shooting range's target simulators. He heard the hum of the targets go up, but sighed. Although through the force he knew that the target was there, he wasn't strong enough with it to tell if he was actually hitting the damn thing. He turned the program off and placed the blaster back onto the rack. He went to his quarters and sat. ((OOC: I'm still alive guys >.>;)

Roxas' cabby vessel docked into the base, and after paying the R2 unit once more, the ship took off, leaving him in another unfamiliar place. He was back on Mon Calamari though, that was something. He wandered through the base until he heard the announcement that he needed to report to breifing room 1A. He had sensed that he was supposed to go somewhere, and followed his intuition until he came upon the room which contained the 'Verdant Green'. "Ah! Master Starlisk, good to see you again. Why the last time I saw you, you were speeding away on a one man ship without me." He said jokingly, adding a chuckle and sitting down.

Real Name: Roxas Jarek Nickname: None Age: 19 Species: Miraluka Height: 5'12 Weight: 124 lbs Hair: Red-brown hair, with medium sized spikes of hair stuck upwards with excess hair falling down to cover his ears. Eyes: White (No Iris/ pupils due to race) Sex: Male Home world: Naboo Alignment: Neutral Clothing: Wears a dark red simple ceramic mask which covers his whole face save for his mouth, and plain looking brown robes and boots. Weapons: None Force Sensitive Inventory: 150 Credits, Rations (5 days worth), Canteen (6 days worth), Bedroll, blank Datapad. Possessions: Father's Mask -A simple red ceramic mask crafted by Hal Jarek of Miralukan design. Covers eyes and most of face save for mouth and ears, appears to have large sentimental value.