Ikanya Calthye

By this point, Ikanya had already become quick used to her Master's quick reactions to moving around, so had no trouble keeping up to him and boarding to fit his speed. Fairly soon, she was strapped into the ship, and they were off into space again. She found herself wondering if Shy-Ree would appear from the jaws of death ever again, just briefly. The girl had amused her slightly. But then, she thought with a dry humor, most things did now. How long til I go insane, I wonder. Once they were in hyperspace, she stood up and went to get herself a cup of coffee.

She followed him, pace quickened to match the odd smirk on her face. It seemed almost out of character, but something in Kany had snapped in her little stint with her own mind. One piece of that was just a bit of her sanity, and it set her into an irritating coolness that seemed impossible to shatter by her master being ticked off to no end. She didn't think he had expected her to survive. But she had. And she was here, in the flesh as some might say. Ikanya found an odd sense of amusement at listening to Barton's tone of voice. There was more than one way to convey darkness and intent. He was just one in a million of those ways. She loved it, derived a deep satisfaction from unleashing what lay within her own mind. It was... peaceful, in a chaotic sense of things. Kany couldn't help but grin.

Ikanya boarded swiftly. So she tastes the chill of death once more, a suddenly new piece of her mind whispered in her ear. A side that spoke of melodrama, of an ability to wield power through being noticed. It hadn't been there before, not so strongly... A rush of adreniline flooded her body at sensing Shy-Ree's power outburst ripping through every sinew of her mind's eyes. She shivered. It was terrifingly sensuous, a feeling she hadn't sensed ever before, and doubted she ever would again. And she smiled grimly as the ship entered hyperspace and they vanished into the nothingness between.

And Ikanya was there in the circle of Force-users somehow, feet having carried her to exactly where her powers were needed, her strengths could be used. New strengths, but existant all the while from the battle within herself. The dark energy... no. She refused to think of it as dark. Dark was without all hope. This was with a hope in mind. This was in order to save lives, after all... A hint of a grim smile touched her face. Dark, then. But no darker than the Jedi are at the moment. It touched her fingertips, spread outwards. Like all the others, she understood her Master's goal, and felt his power. Felt the power of the other Force-users, and the singular strange being. She didn't know about him, but his power stretched (or so it seemed to her senses) up and beyond the Force itself, delving into possibilities she only could dream of weilding. She could see nothing in the utter darkness that masked all senses beyond the Force itself. Her eyes, ears, and even taste was shunted away into the shadows brought up by Lord Barton. There was only the Force... Yeah. Right. No emotion? Rest in pieces... Her powers melded with the others, and the darkside grew.

((3)) A piece of herself had been killed through that little inner battle. A piece of herself had completely fallen apart. Ikanya took up her mind's weapons, drew them against her own enemies... the enemies that were herself. And she destroyed them. She slashed her mind's sword through her desire to eat caffeine, took minor pleasure in the sight of watching that need die away. She enjoyed this, enjoyed seeing her lighter weaknesses dying away at her touch. All she had to do was want them to. All she had to do was accept the Force as her ally, as her tool. And that she did, slashing that weapon through her fears, her weaknesses, and used them to build up into a powerful tool. Her own mind was her greatest weapon and her greatest enemy. She would have it as her weapon. Ones thoughts could do far more damage, she reflected, than a lightsaber. A lightsaber could be taken away. But one could lose their mind, and still contain the ability to focus it into a weapon even through insanity. A grim smile touched her mind's face. She was going insane, she knew it. She loved it. She desired it, the loss of sanity that kept her pinned to ingrained morals. With insanity, she could fight against what she knew was truth. What was power, what was the Force? What was anything without a person to use it? She steeled herself against the walls of her mind, against the trees and pathways, the maze and twisted being that was herself. And she let herself go, fall away. And when it seemed she was furthest from her mind, she pushed, and forced herself to fly through the barriers. She touched the anger that she had felt at being pinned in here. Touched the fear and moments of terror and kneaded them into that same anger. She felt that heat of rage in her very existance swallow her whole... And when she suddenly sat up, Ikanya felt whole. She felt stiff and a bit weary from the mental battle, but she still recovered enough strength to make it to her feet, grab her lightsaber and robes to toss on quickly. Garbing herself as a Sith, she headed out of the room. Her master and fellow apprentice were here. She could feel them. And so was the light... Light? She snorted. If they're so lightside, then why are they attacking us? Ikanya quickened her pace and opened her newfound awareness to find Shy-Ree and Barton.

((2)) Trapped in her mind, her body remained lifeless. The spirit was willing while the body was weak, so often it went... but in her case the spirit was weakened, and though there was nothing left to move her body, it was the only strength that anchored her to a reality that shouldn't've existed. She didn't know if it was a dream, or if it were real... And then it was as if she held control of her body again. She sat up, stood, checked the lightsaber at her waist, and it seemed real. The Mimban scenary was around her, the white pressing walls that beckoned for nothing. She walked forward, touched the wall, and it felt solid... You've walked into a shifting maze, your eyes a gleam of hope that's not there. You don't know what you're trying to do, only that it's there, only that it can be done... You take a deep breath, and it tastes metalitc. But you're in your mind, not real... none of this is real, yet if you're killed here, you will die. Because your mind is what binds you to your body. Your darkness is what binds you to light. Your light is what keeps you bound to darkness. She found herself entering a shifting maze as the walls fell apart, faded into a twisting labrynth of torment and tiny screams that raked at the edge of her mind's eye. Ikanya knew then that it was still a dream, as the walls pressed inwards, guiding her though shadows. She wanted to wake up... she wanted to pull herself out of the ever gray scenery that unfolded before her, she wanted to escape what pressed at her physical form... Over and over again, in a piece of her that was far behind everything else, her life played like an old holovid. It was blurry, but all too clearly whispered of every wrongdoing she had done, of every moment that something had gone wrong. You're too wrapped up in your mistakes. You see only them, and you don't look ahead. You're looking back, and not literally enough. You've been grabbed by the first of your mind's torments, and that is your past. It won't let you go now. It'll keep pressing at you, distracting you, and keeping you from what's real, and what truly matters now... A being lies behind you, and suddenly a flare lights through your mind. Your body twitches, but your mind is still caught deep within... ...And she drew her blade, and it suddenly flashed to existance in her mind, the crimson blade slashing at a flickering figure. It had no face, and that bothered her. It was a faceless enemy, with less of an identity than she herself wore. It was nothing. She didn't like to see that nothingness in her own realm. The maze seemed to expand, the walls growing as she rose up to battle the faceless enemy. And they battled on in her mind, blades whirling through stances she had never been taught, but somehow knew. Parry, thrust, dash and run through... no... suddenly she realized she couldn't kill this enemy, and her mind's weapon sank away from her hand and into the floor of the maze. The faceless enemy shoved her against the wall, and it collapsed to form into her body's shape, melding backwards as she sank by gravity's pull. It walked forward, its blade to her throat. [Who are you?] she managed to think through a growing agony. It seemed to smile, for all its lack of face. And then she knew the answer and why she hadn't been able to kill the faceless one before. [You're... me...] And she knew then she couldn't kill this inner demon by a sword. A smile touched her pained face for a moment, humorless and predetorial. She knew then why she had been pushed into her mind, weaponless and helpless... You can't kill yourself, you can only learn to accept yourself and your nuances... She shoved her mental hand outwards, and into the faceless figure's chest. She knew it would work, knew her fingers would meld into nonexistant flesh, a seering pain digging into them, and colorless agony spreading up her arm. And knew that she could control herself through that choice, if so she chose... And that was why she was there.

((1)) She knew nothing. Nothing about her location, her 'Master's' location, or the location of her mind. There was one thought for a moment, and that was that it wasn't there. And then that too was gone. Outside, Ikanya lay peaceful, almost stone-cold. She could have been taken as dead but for the rise and fall of her chest, still wearing the scoundrel-like garb. But she lived, at least as one little flicker of flame deep within her mind from a dark and cruel deed from a teacher to teach... to show... exactly what one's mind could do. Outside, the walls were white, the roof and floor silver cold metal. The only things to break the continual white was a stain of crimson left of blood, the lone symbol of pain, of a being's agony... to look within the room with the Force, a lingering fear remained. The darkside was strong there, but Ikanya's face was utterly peaceful. Peace. It wasn't an emotion of the Sith, she knew. Or perhaps she didn't, but it was there all the same. Yet she wasn't a Sith. She wasn't a Jedi. She wasn't anything in between. She walked the fine line between shadows and glory, between black torment of eternal ink and a forever standing beam of gold. And between that line there was no gray... there was dark and there was light. And there was a girl who stood between, casting a darker shadow on the blackness, and a reflected light back at the light. She was no Jedi, she was not peaceful. And there was turmoil, a lash in the paradox, and light and darkness became shadows. There were shadows that whirled, and twisted, leeching off of what light dwelled in Ikanya's heart, the tiniest flame that remained within her. Her very life force was at danger from the demons within, that threatened to grab her and suck her down. Yet a piece of her knew... knew that within was the power to overcome! There was a stable point, she merely had to grab it... And the vortex was overcome with that sudden knowledge. There was just a hint of stability in a sea of roaring emotions, and she was able to stand. The dark and light faded away into herself... and she was shadow, until the darkness smothered the light deep within, leaving it to gleam behind darkness' bars. For a moment she thought she had walked out, until the scenery became all too real, and all too fake. A dreamrealm, a piece of her mind whispered that still held control of her body's ability to think. It was too bright, too overdone, colors slashing everywhere that seemed all too picturesque for their own well-being. It seemed too peaceful. [Where is the war?] her voice came. It resounded in the hollow world, the painting, the frame that tried to mimic herself. It sounded too surreal to be herself, too teasingly good to come from her mind. It was another self entirely, yet it had control of her mind now. [Where is the inner turmoil? I'm not through yet...] There was a stir. And she could see the picture in it's entirity for a moment, so she stepped forward to a wall, and a tiny, tiny door that lay in its frame. Ikanya opened her mind's door, and stepped into a depth of herself she hadn't known existed, having thought the ocean of emotion to be her center. But it wasn't. Here was her realm now, and it was nothing. Her last concious thought from her physical body was, I must never tempt fate...

"Don't let him toy with us like this," Ikanya urged of her fellow apprentice, snapping her lightsaber down and off as their master vanished and the sun went down, leaving them in starlit darkness. She wondered if perhaps he was using the Force to darken the area somehow, as evening wasn't generally this dark, even with the sun having set. She reached out. During the brief fight, she had opened herself to feel his darkness as if it were her own... Ikanya felt certain she could trace it now... and hurt it. I don't care what he does to me! And her touch snaked out towards the water to see just what she could do to his hair with a bit of salt water...

Ikanya stood up, nearly fell over, managed to catch her balance again, and nearly fell over. Again. An unfortunate molocule died, but she managed to catch herself, standing up dully. The girl dropped her hand to her lightsaber, drew it, and ignited the blade. It sent a red flare over the area, and the distant taint of ozone to the air. The nature seemed to quiver with antisipation of the possible bloodshed, intensified by the Force flowing around them... nearly tangible in the oceanic vapor. It was too beautiful to lust like this for blood. Yet it did. And the girl seemed to almost catch his thought. "I'm not going to end up killing myself, or cutting my own arm off," she snapped, "since I know you're thinking it." I suppose I'm more worried about cutting Shy-Ree's arm off... "And I'm not going to make some quip about your death," she added. "I'm not that overconfident. But I'd rather like to think I'm not going to die." She swirled to attack the Sith Lord with a blur of red blade, sinking herself back into the momentary connection she had had with the Force, and reopening herself into that wholeness.

"You expect me to do it when you don't even say how to," Ikanya grumbled, having recovered from the incredibly fast (it had seemed) trip through space. Why these trips always somehow managed to just pass as if they weren't even there... "And just so you know, I don't desire power, per se..." She closed her eyes to tune out the beauty around her, to turn off the sense of what existed, and to dive inside of herself... To turn off the whispering voice that clearly said, it's impossible... The Force... it's there... And suddenly she was overwhelmed by the openness of her mind, the flare up of existance that poured into the depths of her mind and soul, that attacked her with light. Speaking to Shy-Ree when the Jedi girl had offered to die to save her soul had hardly been a challenge to ward off. This was worse. This was overwhelming, battering, trying to yank her off of her rope and out of her comfort zone... this was... Ikanya clenched her fists, and strove to focus on the emotion of distrust instead. Strove to take that battering ram and twist it. It didn't have to just bother her. It wanted her to be overwhelmed, and she didn't blasted well want it to take over her. She was her own person! She was, she was... And the coin snapped off of the ledge below where it had lodged, flying into the air with a sudden outlash of powers and the opening of a mind, flying right towards the Sith Lord's face.

"Yaagh!" Ikanya nearly fell off of the chair she was sitting on at the sudden Force-contact, but luckily caught herself a moment before her behind made contact with the hard surface. She quickly found herself bustled off with Shy-Ree back to the ship (still wishing she had something she could use on her fellow apprentice's hair) and into the ship. Soon enough, they were back in hyperspace, and back into the other reality of lightspeed.

"Well, I haven't fallen apart yet, though I could use some coffee," Ikanya commented, closing her eyes to take in a deep breath through all of her senses that remained clear of the murky air. It smelt like a thousand races, like a universe of possibilies. It felt like emotions, though the little door in the back of her mind that was the Force. And through her fingertips, through the skin on her face, it felt warm and lush for the pickings. "But perhaps I could get some duct tape just in case I stop holding together anyway," she quipped. "Or for you. You're not holding together too well... torn between light and dark, eh?" She opened her eyes and glanced at Shy-Ree's hair. The apprentice proceeded to walk over and brush a few strands of long hair off of Shy-Ree's clothing of what was left of the bad haircut to neaten up her appearance. "There... the mess looks kinda cute," the girl mused. "Perhaps with a bit of gel one could make it look like it's suppose to be hacky..."

For a moment Ikanya gazed at the roof, above the patrons that crushed the room with glamor and lights, flaring sounds that drove into the thick of her skull, and sent her mind reeling. She had never been in a casino before. Through the gambling masses, Ikanya trailed after Shy-Ree, half tempted to see how well she could do on a sabacc game. The games had a chance of not being rigged, though she wasn't too positive of the patrons. That was an entirely different story. Needless to say, around fifteen minutes later, Ikanya was clad in a low cut hunter green shirt with long sleeves, a black vest, and black pants, the Sith gear packed into a bag after she paid for the simple yet charming (think scoundrel) outfit. Her weapon was tucked away, same with Shy-Ree's, strapped against her waist to be disguised by the loose vest. She gave Shy-Ree a critical one-over. "The outfit's all right," she finally said over the clamor. "But I don't think I'd mind taking a hairbrush to your hair, and seeing what I could do to that look."

((EDIT: I guess we posted at the same time... ergh. Rewriting reply.)) 1000 credits... Ikanya took the chip and held it silently before pocketing it. Well, I suppose that the Sith clothing isn't exactly something considered inconspicous. She glanced at her fellow apprentice for a moment before drawing in a deep breath and turning. "You want accompaniment? Females going clothes shopping isn't exactly darkside... and I do know what fashion is," Ikanya offered, pausing at the ship's exit door. She didn't know what lay ahead, or whether she wanted it.

Space passed quickly, silently, and deadly, and all too soon the Sith's ship was at their location with the two apprentices on board. Ikanya was still wondering whether she was following this correctly.