maskormenacelogs | Lessons Learned [Open]

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Lessons Learned [Open]

WHO: Darth Jadus, Cipher Nine, anybody else who likes the prompt!
WHERE: Jeopardy
WHEN: Early June
WHAT: Darth Jadus leads a meditation class. ...Yes, really.
WARNINGS: Jadus. And some minor body horror in the thread with Nine.

[OOC: this prompt is primarily for Cipher Nine, but if anybody wants to jump in, feel free to do so in a separate thread!]

Classes at the yoga and meditation center were largely mundane. Mindfulness and meditation, following local trends.

Twice a week, things changed.

Darth Jadus had evidently seen no reason to abandon the government assignment he was given at the outset. Though he had moved his public operations to Jeopardy, each week he still led two guided meditation sessions at the local branch.

The first lesson is open to beginners. The regulars are mostly welcoming, eager to invite novices to spaces at the front of the class, but they are quiet. Jadus waits at the head of the room, kneeling, unmoving, and silent. He does not stir until the class is assembled. Then, he begins.

"The mind is powerful, and beset by limitation." His voice is calm and resonant, further augmented by his eyeless mask.

"Emotion has purpose, but its energy goes wasted in the untrained mind." He hasn't moved, but one might get the impression he is looking at the newcomers.

"The comfort of happiness can lead to stagnation, pride in accomplishment can blind one to risk, anger set free will weaken the mind, and fear without focus leaves one broken." There is little hint of emotion in his tone, but the conviction is obvious.

"This need not be so."

In the absence of instruction, some of the students have closed their eyes. Others stare blindly, their eyes half-lidded. Any who remain alert will eventually realize that Jadus is slowly becoming blurred, as if the eye can't focus on him. "No emotion is negative. All can destroy the mind, and all can strengthen it."

His voice is no louder than it was before, but it seems to fill the entire room. "Others have taught you to seek peace. I will not do so. Here, you will learn to be free."

The class continues, under his strict control. He speaks, calmly, and without pause. When the class is done, some retreat quickly to warmer air outside, shivering. Some are guided out by regular students, at a gesture from Jadus. But many stay, joined by other students. They sit on the wooden floor, some with mats, some without.

An hour of guided meditation follows. And, oddly, Jadus barely speaks. Those taking the course might not notice it at all, even as the air grows colder. As he warned, it is not peaceful, but to some the swell of emotion felt in the tense silence may be electrifying. Those who can read auras or have mental abilities, however, will see another side of the meditation.

Jadus' aura reaches out to envelop his students, curling around them, probing them, reaching inside to pull something to the surface. Occasionally he retreats, ignoring a mind in favor of another. Once or twice, one that lost his interest burns with a sudden spasm of emotion, strong enough to bring his focus back to them, a seething darkness boiling around their mind.

And to the one watching this play out, it may become clear that they have not escaped his scrutiny either. He works more subtly around them, but he is watching.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Edwon isn't hiding his presence, not exactly. There's no point in trying to cover up the fact that he discovered Darth Jadus' place of employment, not when it clearly wasn't a secret in the first place. That said, he's also not going into the room. He's sitting on a couch outside in the lobby, pretending to read a magazine, looking like he's simply waiting for someone. Meanwhile, all of his attention is on the other side of the wall.

He's been there since the first class started. The lobby is quiet, and some of Darth Jadus' words have managed to reach him, even there. It's nothing new. He's heard the speech. He hadn't been swayed by it then, and he certainly isn't swayed by it now. But the fact that these other people are... That's worrying.

And then the second class starts. He's trying to focus on the people there, figure out what's going on, but his attention keeps being dragged back to Darth Jadus... And Darth Jadus almost hurts to focus on. It's even worse than usual.

What had he called it? An inoculation?

Now Edwon is really worried.

He's stubbornly staying where he is, but he suddenly wants to be anywhere else. There's no outward sign of it - he seems calm, maybe a little bored, occasionally flipping a page - but sitting still is becoming almost physically painful. It's the part of him that itches to act, that throws itself into danger, activated to an extreme. Running would be the smart choice, but he also wants to storm in there and confront the Sith that's apparently brainwashing those people. Brainwashing, or something too close to it, and it's making him angry.

He doesn't immediately realize that Darth Jadus has noticed him. The pressure grows, his mind attempting to fight back, but he's failing thoroughly with no training. His emotions keep building. He can't sit still anymore. He stands up - And that's when he recognizes the attention on him.

He sits back down, and grabs another magazine. No one seems to question the fact that a blindfolded man is reading these magazines, and no one pays him any attention. No one except Darth Jadus, and if Darth Jadus knows he's there, he's not going anywhere. The fear and the anger are almost overwhelming, but that has never done anything but make him sharper. He can tolerate this. He's done it before.

It had only been a few minutes that time.

When the class ends, Edwon will still be sitting there, apparently calm, inwardly feeling like an explosion waiting to happen. He doesn't lift his head, but then, he doesn't need to. He flips another page.

This Cipher Nine is a strange thing. An agent that rejected him. It had happened before, within Intelligence. He still found uses for them. But in another world, this one had thwarted him, and profoundly so. It was enough to inspire a kind of hate, but also... curiosity. He had never had the opportunity to see this for himself.

But that fear and anger are familiar. He had touched this agent's mind, and left something there. He knew what he had done to the one who became his Hand, but what would he leave within a creature like this?

Regardless, there was business to attend to. When the lesson was over, he stood, turning his back to the class. That was the signal for them to leave--he would speak no more to them tonight. And most complied. Some hovered at the edges, hoping.

They would not find what they sought tonight. "There is another in need. Go." he dismisses his disciples. They do not understand, until they see the Miraluka as they leave. For now, this will remain another mystery to them.

He begins to walk towards a back door, gesturing for the agent to follow him.

Edwon doesn't hesitate to follow, though internally he bristles a bit at being described as someone in need. It's quickly drowned out by all the other emotions currently overwhelming him.

It helps a little to step outside. He focuses on the semi-fresh air, on the sounds around them, and he tries to let that distract him at least a little from Darth Jadus' presence. It's still overwhelming, but at least he feels a tiny little bit less like he's under attack now. He keeps his arms behind his back, and finally he tilts his face up towards Jadus, just to signal that he's paying attention. Some people assume he isn't, otherwise.

"I can't say I was expecting you to teach meditation." He's doing an impressive job of keeping his emotions out of his voice, too. "But it makes more sense now."

"They are subject to far less monitoring than imPorts. In this, they are useful." Cipher Nine was a complication--these people were not trained for espionage. They were as fanatically loyal as his followers had been before, but they were less viable against a trained agent, possibly harboring a pointless grudge.

"This planet dooms them to stagnate, but I have done what I can to elevate them." That would, no doubt, provoke a reaction.

Edwon remembered the followers Darth Jadus had brought with him aboard his flagship. He'd heard their terrified messages. Some of them had attacked him, before he'd activated stealth, because he didn't want to be forced to kill someone who wasn't even trained to fight. Someone who wouldn't even have turned violent if they hadn't been brainwashed by this Sith.

"I've seen what you call elevation." His followers on the ship had just been scared, until they'd lost all sense of self. Anger flares up stronger inside Edwon again, strong enough to show on his face finally, his lips tightening before he gets it under control.

"They'll be useless to you if you push them too far." He doubted Darth Jadus would listen, or really cared. "Unless you prefer people not to use their brains."

"You witnessed an experiment." Scores of survivors, selected from a population he had chosen for that purpose. The results had been beautiful and loathsome. "Thirteen years have passed since I left the Empire. That time was not wasted." Though he still debated if the two years here could ever be counted as productive. Certainly not if the Porter was allowed to act out its desires upon them all.

"They are resilient. And you should be thankful to them--they have been instructive. The removal of your conditioning will bring you less pain."

He shouldn’t be this angry. He needs Darth Jadus, much as he hates to admit it, and what he does to his follower has little to do with him. He’d be useless to Darth Jadus if he lost his independence, because he’d no longer be able to work as an agent, so that can’t ever have been his plan for him. It had worried him - it had been another reason to say no - but it hadn’t been a main concern.

“Pain was never a concern.” He gestures dismissively, like he’s offended by the idea --

And sparks fly out from his hands, straight towards Jadus.

He did not feel danger rising, only an inkling of something... unexpected. He started to turn towards the agent, just in time to see the flash.

The armored robes harmlessly dissipated much of the energy, drawing it away from his body. The rest danced, tugging at feebly at muscles and nerves before he banished the charge with a closed fist.

The agent seemed to have recoiled from his own action. And no agent with that much potential would have been allowed to make their way through Intelligence untrained. That left one likely explanation. "The Porter has made its own alterations to you. You are in need of my help, agent, no matter how loathsome you find it."

Edwon has no idea why just happened. His first thought is that someone else is attacking them - he sees the sparks, and turns his focus outwards, in case there’s a threat he’s somehow missed - but the sparks came from him. It shouldn’t be possible, but there’s no denying it either.

His second thought is that Darth Jadus will retaliate. He steps back quickly and braces himself in case he’s about to be electrocuted by him again.

His third thought is a jumbled, confused mess, and it’s only when Darth Jadus speaks that he snaps out of it, focusing his thoughts on that statement. His adrenaline is high, and it’s not from anger anymore.

“Alterations?” It’s not really a question. The anger threatens to come back, but he can feel the electricity ready to burst out of him again, and he can’t risk it. But he’s sick of people changing him for their own purposes. “There’s no need to pretend you’re helping me. We both know you’re using me.”

"And you know I offered you more. Your rejection does not change this." He could not truly, entirely speak for another him, in another world. The idea of another's existence was in itself unpleasant. But yes, he would use it.

"The Porter changes all that it takes. Some alterations are subtle. Others, calamitous." All of them an affront. "It has given you greater connection to the false Force it projects within us. Inauthentic though it may be, it is a competent mimic. Combined with your conditioning, it will be difficult for you to control without training."

That surprises Edwon as well. He hadn’t thought the offer would stand after he’d attacked and defeated Darth Jadus, preventing him from going through with a plan he’d been working on for years. But then, that had been a different version of the Sith. And, more importantly: Much as Edwon hates him, he has to admit that Darth Jadus is clever, and if he has the chance to gain a useful asset, he isn’t the type to waste it. Edwon doesn’t like admitting it, but he respects that about him, even now.

Not that it matters much. This is still all about leverage, something Darth Jadus has too much of. Edwon takes a moment to respond, though it’s not because he’s struggling to decide. He shifts his stance, stepping forward again. “I already agreed to help you.”

Edwon will have to find a way to deal with that leverage - he doesn’t trust Darth Jadus to help solve those problems without also making sure he has something else to hold over him - but for now, he’ll gain more from playing along. He’s definitely not happy about it, but he can let that push him to work harder. “If I agree to the rest as well, what will the next step be? How are you planning to train me?”

He waited through the silence. The agent already knew that this was inevitable. There was no need to push further.

"I have no intention of training you to be Sith." Zhorrid was his first and last apprentice. "But you are not the first agent to come to Intelligence with hidden and overlooked sensitivity. They are trained to maintain a temperament that matches their skills. You will be instructed according to those principles." And according to his own.

It really is inevitable. Edwon is unwilling to keep accidentally attacking people, and while he’s usually good at keeping his emotions and reactions under control, it will eventually happen again. Next time, it might be against someone who can’t defend themselves the way Darth Jadus can. He doubts he’d be able to train himself, and he has no one else he can ask.

“I have no desire to be Sith.” He tilts his head slightly, but decides not to comment on the rest of that. “Alright. I’ll accept.”

"Nor should you." Though he still acknowledged his own connection to them, his disdain for the order had grown since he left the Empire.

He began to walk, in a direction headed toward the outskirts of the city. Instruction began now. "Regardless, the dark will test you. It is easily channeled through hatred, fear and degradation, both your own and that of others who leave their thoughts unguarded. Intelligence teaches all agents to turn emotion into action. But these techniques are not enough--you will now feel a pull to consume, and be consumed. Submit to it, and you will become no better than my daughter. Carried wherever the tides of emotion would take you." And never, ever diving deeper.

Edwon follows after, hurrying to keep up with Jadus’ much longer strides. He’s a little annoyed that apparently Darth Jadus decides this was the best time to do this, but he’s not surprised. And he supposes there’s no point in waiting.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he says, holding back comments of I’ve heard that before. He has, but he knows this will be different, and there’s no point in being antagonistic right now. He tries not to think about Darth Zhorrid - Darth Jadus was the one to train her, which doesn’t suggest he’s a competent teacher - though he’d actually felt pity for her more than anything. “I normally keep a better check in my emotions.”

"Your previous condition is of no consequence. This is not an outlier. This is what you are now, agent. Denying it will only allow your instincts to push you further."

Cutting through back streets perpendicular to the central strip, they were moving swiftly away from the life and light of the city. "This is your first lesson: You have failed. You will be made to understand why."

Edwon is now jogging lightly to make sure he’ll keep up, but he doesn’t comment on the pace. He has no problems maintaining this speed for as long as they need to. “Very encouraging.”

But he doesn’t need encouraging. He needs realism, and that, at least, is something Darth Jadus is good at doling out. Of course, he’s also arrogant, believing his own methods and beliefs are inherently superior, and Edwon isn’t about to put his faith in him, but he still prefers that over someone who’d give him a false perspective. So: He needs to relearn control, is that it?

“But I’ll accept that. I never intended to attack you, which means I failed.”

"An agent should always strike with intent," he agreed dryly. He had not forgotten what this agent professed to have done. But that was in itself a truth that required his method: he had failed, in another life, and he would learn why.

Soon enough they were far from the evening crowds, in a disused industrial lot. "Summon that anger again. Lash out at me, for what I have done. I suspect you will have little difficulty doing so."

Edwon comes to a halt several feet away. He doesn’t want to lash out - it goes against everything that he is, everything that he prides himself on - and he takes a moment to push down his own reservations.

But finding that anger again really is easy. His hatred towards Darth Jadus was never that personal, but stemmed mainly from Edwon’s disdain towards all Sith, towards people in power believing in their superiority. Darth Jadus has proved to be exactly the same when he’d been so willing to kill millions across the galaxy, and to brainwash his own followers to the point of turning them mindlessly violent.

And that’s enough. Darth Jadus is just as willing to brainwash someone as the rest of the Sith, as whoever had planted that word inside Edwon’s brain to force him to obey. The shock of discovering that he’d been betrayed by the Empire is still new, and mostly unprocessed. It makes anger flare up strong.

“You’re right. You make anger easy.” He steps closer. So he’s supposed to let these feelings overwhelm him?

He’s still resisting.

“You’re a disappointment. You’re no different from every other Sith, from that Emperor you turned against.”

Violence should never be used as a winning argument. It should be a deliberate and necessary act to be effective. Edwon clenches his hands into fists and tries to let himself go.

“I’m not sure why you think you’re better.”

The problem with lashing out through violence is how helpless it makes the victims feel. Edwon has worked hard to never be in that position again, to build himself up, prove his own strength, but the Sith have the power to destroy all of that on a whim. They took what he was proud of.

The anger feels painful under his skin now. Edwon darts forward with surprising speed for someone so small, wanting to get up close and personal when he lets that pain go. It feels like it’s exploding out of him.

This time the electricity is stronger - and still as surprising to Edwon as it flies at Darth Jadus. But there’s no reason to stop there. He pulls out his dagger, slicing at him at the same time.

He caught the lightning easily, the electricity dancing in a controlled arc over his body, down again into an open hand. It discharged precisely, striking the agent's arm with just enough power to make the muscles spasm, forcing the attack to miss.

"Then strike me. You are more powerful than when you defeated me, agent." Normally, an agent would be more of a challenge to manipulate. Though they were mostly without sensitivity, their training made them difficult targets. But now that training was stripped away, and it was simply a matter of power. And that anger, usually held close and carefully guarded, was free for him to draw upon as well.

And he would push the agent further. Far enough to make his point abundantly evident. "Destroy me, in the name of the humiliation you have endured."

Edwon nearly drops the dagger as the electricity hits him instead. His muscles spasm out of his control, and it slips free of his fingers, only for him to snatch it back at the last second. It hurst, but he barely shows it.

And more daggers are already flying at Darth Jadus from his other hand. "This doesn't make me more powerful." He wants to hurt him. It isn't a feeling he normally dwells on - it isn't about pain, it's about playing it smart, and doing his job, and about proving himself better. But right now, it's about hurting, and about trying to summon more electricity to do just that.

He's darting around, never staying still, but when he starts thinking about lightning there is no waiting for the best moment. It just bursts out of him, and it's all he can do to aim it the right way.

"A lie. You know that the sith keep their grip on the Empire by their violence, no matter the cost. Violence the Force permitted us to work upon people like you. That brute strength is now yours." But Jadus' own tactics were in contrast now to his words. Daggers seemed to strike home, but then kept flying through curling wisps of dark red vapor, his form blurring into and out of the mist. The lightning flashes towards him, but it is neutralized with precision.

"Destroy me, or admit defeat." The latter was the correct answer. The agent was already defeated, not by the power of a sith, but by his own failure of control.

"Anyone can be defeated if you outsmart them! Otherwise how did I defeat you?"

But he's not defeating Darth Jadus now. The daggers are doing nothing. He's going to wear himself out without even giving him a scratch. But he can't stop either, not when the anger is so strong, fueled by the reminder of his humiliation. He wants power, so he'll never be this helpless again, so he'll never be at the mercy of someone else's whim.

The electricity arches from both hands, again and again... But getting weaker. He reaches for his blaster instead, aiming at Darth Jadus' head.

Lightning is not easy for a novice to generate. That the agent can manage it at all is interesting, but it will be of no use to him now. It was never supposed to. That failure was the point.

He suddenly closes the distance, one of the Cipher Nine's own daggers brought to the agent's throat.

"Enough." That would do, to illustrate his lesson.

"What did you feel, as you lost control?"

Edwon freezes. He'd nearly thrown himself forward into that dagger.

He still wants to attack, has to physically hold himself back, but the cold metal against his throat is a good reminder. It takes him several moments to respond. He feels like he has to wrench himself back to the present.

"Angry." That much would have been obvious. "I just want to hurt you."

He still wants to, more than anything. It's taking every ounce of control he has to keep standing still. "Pain isn't usually my goal."

He kept the blade against the agent's neck. It was time for him to listen, not to be tempted to strike again. "It is beguilingly simple. Your rage becomes your strength. It becomes your purpose. It becomes all of you." It was always such disappointment. He had watched so many become such simple creatures. Eventually, he had realized why.

"The Emperor taught us to give in, for his own benefit. And it is easy to fall." And then their actions would serve only to feed their master. It had been so wasteful, yet still impressive in its extent alone.

"The first step is to know that it is failure. And know that your enemies will use it against you. I will use it against you. And you will not allow that to happen."

The blade is effective, and maybe later he'll be willing to admit to himself that it's even necessary, because there's a part of him that still thinks attacking Darth Jadus is a good idea. And while the threat doesn't scare him - if anything, he's always enjoyed that type of danger - it works as a focus as much as a warning. He's not the type to act rashly.

He repeats that in his head. This anger is justified, but it's not him. He extends his mind outwards as a distraction, paints a shape of the lot they're in inside his head, paying attention to smaller details. He struggles not to get hung up on the idea of some abandoned, rusted equipment being a convenient weapon, so he stops.

This is frustrating.

"No wonder so many Sith are easy to manipulate."

Still sane enough to respond to immediate mortal threat. A pathetic sign of restraint, but important nonetheless. He watches the agent struggle for safer thoughts, and the failure.

"Many do not have the skill or will to restrain themselves. But you can be different. This raw hate you feel can be controlled. It can be shaped. And it can be hidden. You can learn techniques that will make the weight more bearable. But you can never become complacent." When one did, they lost. He suspects that is how an agent, this agent, could defeat him. To be profoundly defied at the moment that should have culminated years of planning, a moment that seemed like the one, singular chance to reshape the Empire? The fury would have been too much to contain.

And so, in another world, he had been defeated. More than decade since that moment had turned in his favor, it was still instructive. "I told you before, agent: Your body and mind will fail you. They will betray you. To truly understand this is the first step to mastery."

"Now: Dissect this moment. Make your report on how you have failed."

This is humiliating, too. He prides himself on having more control, on playing it smart instead of letting his emotions rule him, and yet now he can’t shake off the desire to launch himself headfirst into an attack. He judges Sith for their lack of control, their reliance on violence. He has to be better than them.

The demand for a report finally helps. It gives him something to focus on that doesn’t require him to use the force. He shifts his arms behind his back and goes quiet, considering his own actions. He’s trained to analyze events.

“That isn’t how I fight.” Normally he doesn’t like talking about his own techniques, but he’s not giving away anything that wouldn’t be obvious to Darth Jadus. It doesn’t take a genius to guess that Edwon doesn’t rely on direct attacks, considering his stature, and Darth Jadus is highly intelligent. “I was never going to win that way. “

He tilts his head, the habit of analyzation finally allowing him to let go of the edge of his anger. There’s still a voice at the back of his mind telling him not to accept his own failure, but that voice at least he’s trained not to listen to. “I failed because I sought instant gratification. I lost perspective of the situation.” He exhales slowly. “I hate you, like you said. Hurting you would be satisfying. That desire shouldn’t turn me into an idiot.”

He took the knife away from the agent's throat, examining it now as he spoke. "You opened your thoughts to me, agent. Every movement was laid bare. So too was that hatred, and its source. You lost your focus, yes. But more vitally, your anonymity."

There was a loathing growing in him now. It was not a new thought: He should not have trained Zhorrid to be sith. The training of an agent would have given her a greater portion of what he had hoped for her.

"You have training to guard your thoughts from us, but it will require adaptation to your new urges. This will not come to you now. You may never fully perfect it. But you know that it can be done." Because Cipher Nine had seen him. He would not fully understand it, but it was plain to all that there was a stark difference between the aura of a sith, and his own. Theirs were shot through with seething emotion, inflicted upon others. His was simply darkness. The emotion had been stripped away, so carefully and completely.

He suspected that the agent may have felt him falter, in the moment of his defeat. Allowing some portion of himself to be known. And he hated that, so completely and purely.

The knife being removed almost feels like a reward, to the extent that Darth Jadus is capable of something like that. Edwon hadn’t even fully succeeded. He had been partially right, which wasn’t good enough, not when he’d missed the most important factor. He needed to focus.

But he is getting his emotions under control again, so there’s no longer any need for a threat to keep him in line. It’s a step in the right direction. He’s not supposed to want acknowledgment from a Sith, either, but he’s always been driven by his need to prove himself, and having his potential recognized, and it’s difficult to ignore the satisfaction it brings.

He doesn’t even want to learn how to use the Force, but he recognizes that he doesn’t have another choice right now. So he might never fully perfect it? He’ll show him, then.

He keeps his mind on the analysis. It helps. “And I fueled you, at the same time.”

And he hates that, too. He never wants to give Darth Jadus anything, especially not that.

Anakin had, if he was honest, nearly walked straight back into the Porter's office and left Jeopardy when he realized how much like Tatooine this place was. But no. He wanted to at least scoop out what this Darth was doing. He wasn't coming for a fight, just to get information.

He wasn't, no matter what anyone said or thought, trying to prove to anyone including himself that he wasn't afraid. That would be ridiculous. He was a Jedi Knight, he was not afraid. He was the hight of cranky over the heat and dust and grit, however.

And he's hanging back. Anakin does terribly with meditation that requires him to sit still, and he's suspect almost as soon as Jadus starts to speak - calling him hostile wouldn't be quite right, it's more he's pickled all over, ready to launch spines at anything that touches him. Defensive. But because his attention is split - on Jadus, on the other students, he can actually meditate some. It's almost like flying through a debris storm to suddenly find oneself face to face with a white drawf that could go supernova any second. Blistering in intensity, unstable, almost overwhelmingly powerful. But so long as Anakin doesn't face it head-on, he can maintain some equilibrium.

He only somewhat notices he is levitating almost two feet off the floor, any loose objects in his vicinity floating around him in orbit, mimicking orbital patterns of star systems he knows well to shift to aerial battle formations to other patterns, shifting in and out at almost random from natural patterns to tactical ones.

Edited 2020-06-23 10:48 (UTC)

From the start, he is aware of a familiar presence. Anakin Skywalker. The newer iteration. Younger, more idealistic, less self-pitying, and still just as rotten through by Jedi training and circumstance.

[He has learned by now: Skywalkers have the capacity to surprise him with their reckless behavior. Everything he has seen has only reinforced his initial assessment that they are not worth the trouble they can bring. His observations have prepared him, but Skywalker's presence still shifts his focus for today's meditation. Rather than focusing on the uplift of his followers, he turns inward.

His mental shields are so thick and treacherous that even the Emperor never saw his thoughts. But even the strongest defenses are useless if they are undone from within. Skywalkers can aggravate him, and he must make sure that hatred does not drag him down to the rawness of other Sith. His mind and emotions will remain unreadable.

Trapped within the building mental pressure in the room, some of the students begin to buckle. He draws the attention of one of his advanced students, gesturing to the failures. They are quietly escorted out before they can disrupt the rest.

And so it continues in slow attrition, until only a few are left by the end of the hour.

Younger and possibly feeling a little more...full of spit and vinegar than he would be in even a few years. But he's not poking at Jadus - he's watching, sensing, all but screaming 'Don't. Karking. Touch. Me.' - but he's not moving either. Even to his own ears, the tiny objects he has moving are leaving a whizzing sound. Most are clearly his own - tiny screws, smaller still beads of solder, flecks of wire, flakes of black and gold plating.

But he's also focusing on what he can pick up from the other students, what Jadus may be leading them in, or towards.

The debris around him even rolls like waves in a current when a student leaves, a subtle reaching out and strong ebbing back away. He's still largely unaware of what he's doing.

Precisely on the hour, he stands. Usually he would remain kneeling, and dismiss the first class, making way for the rest of his followers. But not today.

He selected three from the remaining students, still dazed as the exited their trance. "I entrust them to you. Lead them through their abnegations and report to me on their progress."

"Skywalker--You will follow me." He left the room, walking towards a back exit to the building.

Anakin was more unconsciously attuned to Jadus than he realized because as he started to stand, so did Anakin. Even if it took him a few seconds to find the floor with his feet and for the objects around him to settle, as they moved organically around him, his own objects falling back where they were when he started. Still, there is a moment when the objects are settling where they looked like a cloak of sorts behind and around him. And if he looks calm, it's entirely superficial. Smooth water over a rip current, so seemingly still sand over an unstable and shifting foundation.

There was a part of him that considered refusing. He hadn't come for a chat after all and didn't enjoy the idea of being alone with Jadus. (Actually, he'd have rather been buried in a sand dune and have to fight his way out. Naked. Into a Tatooine sandstorm.) But ultimately, that would have been directly hostile which wasn't at this point what he was trying to do. Instead, he just nodded his head faintly, hands lightly clasped and folded in front of him. Typical Jedi bow.

That didn't mean he followed closely. And he was studying the building with an eye for ambush spots, exits, pathways, improvised weapons.

Anakin Skywalker had always been more volatile than his children. It would eventually cost him--the previous iteration of him was absolutely fixated on that.

Unproductively so, in his eyes. The losses he had incurred could be used to purge and focus the mind, as many Sith had done before. But he had never outdone his master, a fool who thought himself a new Emperor.

But for now, Skywalker was a Jedi. An a volatile one at that. If his Order had any sense of history, they would have understood the risk. Skywalker was a perfect target.

For those who cared to corrupt him. Jadus did not--but he could not rule out the possibility of a violent reaction from the Jedi tonight. And so he led Skywalker out into the barren lot behind the building, away from the noise and life of the main street.

"What have you learned from your observations?"

For all Anakin knew the basics of what those more forward in time said happened - and it wasn't that he didn't trust them, although really? He didn't, not really. Which wasn't personal, he wasn't trusting much of anyone these days. Padmè of course, and Rex more and more, but those were it. He wasn't yet fixated on his Fall to come.

"You teach meditation that's just as useless." It's tart but also shallow. Of course Anakin wasn't here to learn what kind of meditation Jadus taught, even if he'd barely been able to keep still for an hour. "Is there any real point in making people stay still?" It had been worse than normal, due to how he was trying to avoid allowing Jadus' presence to touch his.

"Can they really not tell what you are?" It's not hostile, it more confused.

His devoted continued their meditation inside the studio. They were fumbling, unlovely creatures, but they desperately wished to be more. That desperation brought them a tenuous hold on the Dark, even though they could not sense it, and none among them ever truly would--the Porter would never extend its simulacrum of the Force to them.

But it still held some small spore of meaning. "It is foolish to believe that the Force cannot benefit those who do not sense it. Even upon this isolated world, the Porter's imitation of cosmic power still reacts to them. They are blind, but no less worthy of knowledge."

"I do not hoard my prizes. Both Sith and Jedi have long made this mistake. You see a Sith, and they see their only teacher."

"That isn't what I meant." No, his remark had been in more tart than that. "Even if it seems cruel to tease them with something they can't begin to truly understand. We use the term 'blind' but it's more than that. They can't sense the whisper much less the roar." Sith going to Sith, he supposes.

"I feel a Sith. It doesn't matter what I see. And if you think I believe Jedi should hold their teachings so closely, you don't know me at all." Anakin would never forget - nor forgive - his first introduction to the Jedi High Council.

Ironically, his words had obviously not been heard. "Then you would doom them to total ignorance in the name of mercy. I refuse to do so."

"The Sith hold more than your manipulator ever comprehended, or mine ever created." He had spent decades watching the Empire tear at its own throat, and then another decade studying why, as the Emperor's plans were revealed to him.

"You know only the Sith Emperor's stunted ideology, a distraction for those content to torture the alien, the slave, the citizen, and ultimately their own kin, all in the name of his own unceasing appetite for death. It is not the Dark as it should be." In spite of all he had witnessed, he still had some lunatic inclination toward hope. That others would one day see this, and he could make it so.

Oh, Anakin had heard them. Had he been able to make sense of them? Kriff no. "It's you leave them striving for something they can never obtain because you presented it to them, they are going to resent you. They are going to get frustrated and quit and be more bitter for the result. So what do you plan to do with them?"

"And what should it be?" He knows damned well what he felt on Tattooine the night his mother died. What he felt going after Dooku. Ventress.

"Self-knowledge, unclouded by denial." This had always been his thesis, though he still struggled to explain it to others, no matter how many years he worked to perfect it.

"Emotion is inevitable, no matter how Jedi ward against it. Frailty too, and the Sith deny it. Both will find their moment and overwhelm you. Uncomprehended, they will destroy and consume and corrupt." That was clear enough in Skywalker. In himself, as well. He had his flaws, buried deep within himself, but subject to merciless scrutiny all the same.

"To understand this inevitability is not fatalism. It is not submission. This understanding is mastery. Transcendence." It had brought him so much, and so many refused to see it.

Edited (needed an appropriately luminous icon) 2020-12-19 22:07 (UTC)

"So just understand your emotions?" Shockingly, Anakin wasn't being as flippant as the answer sounded - call the tone a learned response to something just outside his grasp that he expected mocking for not understanding. Gears were turning, and yes, Jadus had a point. You'd always feel things.

Anakin couldn't say he always understood what he felt, couldn't name the storm that was taking him - too many things felt bad, felt like anger and that's what he called them.

Still he was pretty sure there was a step or ten to whatever Jadus was saying that was...missing.

"Yes. The Jedi Code exalts knowledge triumphing over ignorance, and I agree. But in practice, the Order is at war with this concept. Especially in your era." What information he had collected on the future had been disappointing.

"The Order now only admits young children, does it not? At the age when one is most receptive to learning, the Jedi teach you to ignore, to deny, and to bury emotion. This does not eliminate them, it transforms them into a fearful mystery that cannot be fully sensed nor understood." Skywalker was proof enough of what failure that produced. Dooku had been as well.

"The results are plain: a blinded Order that remained unaware of a Dark Lord in their midst, and produced Jedi that shatter irrevocably upon the experience of anger and terror."

Truly, it was little different in his time. Padawan, Knight, and Master alike became sport for many Sith, taking pride in their ability to turn them from dull pedants into ravening monsters. It was an activity he had engaged in as master of Imperial Intelligence, but with no particular passion.

"The Sith also value ignorance, but fashioned through different means, and to different ends. A warrior that rages without moderation and self-reflection is a powerful, short-lived weapon, one many masters prize. And they themselves are little better, for their masters trained them much the same." He had been an acolyte in the Sith Academy, barely escaping conscription to the front lines. And after that, an apprentice to a myopic schemer. These things he knew intimately.

"In the face of these failures, the only choice is to learn, or to fall."

"Very young. In toddler developmental stages generally. But very occasionally a little older." No where near his own age.

But he did at least listen to this part. "So you are critical of the Hedi suppressing all emotion, and the Sith of embracing only anger and rage." Repeating back the words, only truncated. Ask a question. "You would have them then, all of them, embrace all emotion in order to understand it? Or just to study emotion?" Given how Jadus felt, he couldn't fathom the...man? Possible human? Feeling anything like joy or love.

"I would have them embrace and understand what elevates them, and what might spell their downfall." It was his personal philosophy, the source of his strength. If he did not seek to spread it, he would be a monstrous hypocrite.

"I found eternity through terror and loathing, but my attempts to recreate that clarity in others have failed. If any emotion brings epiphany to another, I would accept this." Zhorrid had been a failure. The Eradicators, while efficient, had not yielded true success.

He would truly hate to see another rise by other means, but he would accept its reality and adapt accordingly, should such a thing ever occur.

"Yours sounds like a truly great time." He didn't mean to be flip but the words were out of his mouth before he'd fully realized he even thought them.

Not that Jadus sounded wrong until that last bit - while in battle feeling angry and protective fueled him, he didn't like how it felt to be angry all the time. "How'd it work it out for you?"

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