Rolling out of the bed Aran gingerly touched her aching jaw. It was better than taking a boot to the face but the swift hit from the training weight had put her out as surely as a knock on the temples would've done. Her jaw hurt, feeling the bone almost assuredly cracked - it had a kolto wrap on it and another few on the little dents she'd taken from the spinning weights, but she knew she was in medical. It smelled like it, crisp and clean and horrifying, every memory and association woken up by the place. Too many days spent in medbay 'for her own safety' came to mind, too many times she'd been bottled up.
Swinging legs over the edge of the bed Aran put her fingers to her jaw, shakily calling on the Force to knit the weakened bone back together. The pounding in her temples lessened as she knitted the damage away, breath caught in the pain healing with the Dark Side meant. It was far, far easier to call upon the Dark Side of the Force than to try to knit herself back up with the distant Light Side. Even though it hurt - the Dark Side hurt to use, pain-riddled but soothing at the same time, a dichotomy she had stopped questioning - she worked, hand pressed against the cool wall of the medical room.
There were droids bustling nearby. She could feel the bruising leave her jaw and she gave her head a shake as if clearing it. Her skin crawled at the droids but she had accepted them. The staff - slaves? - were just as easily accepted now. "Mistress-" one of them began and Aran lifted her hand to silence them, patting her belt before cursing as she headed for the door.
No saber. Or at least, her hand patting her jacket again, not the right one. She still had the cool, small and sleek hilt that had been a gift what, two years ago? But she was missing his hilt. The one she'd just gotten back.
She didn't particularly care if Krassk was alerted that she'd left medical with a grabbed pack of kolto and a blistering oath at the person who'd tried to get her to remain. She didn't head to the training arena though, swearing again as she turned and slammed a fist into the nearby wall. Anger simmered just below the surface of her thoughts, swirling, rolling and crashing. She'd been in the trancelike state of working on forms, smooth as water over a rock, when Krassk had yelled for her. She'd spent more time in combat practice over the past few days than she'd openly logged in years. Ever since Krassk had pressed pure anger into her mind and she'd snapped from it...
She wrenched her thoughts back. Krassk had realized one of her hidden little secrets. Same as Xan had noticed that one time, noting how she'd moved her feet. Clandestine. She'd devoted ten years to the study of niman's form, ten years putting her makashi and juyo roots behind her. And in one moment Krassk had snapped that line of control and one of the small lines she'd clung to had blurred. She inhaled sharply, shaking her hand out and rubbing the heel of her palm, feeling the scrape of skin and raw cut in flesh. She was still easy to manipulate, sway - the constant broil of emotions frayed her control. And her own knotted emotions - the constant practice of forms that pressed her control - and she let out a shaken breath.
She was unbalanced. Her inclination was to pull back, to hunker down and settle herself again, center herself, regain the fragile control. But - there was a fragment of a scowl tinging her lips - she had... asked for this. Logically she knew that. She knew this was what she had approached Krassk for. And she'd already been lectured like a greenie, grilled and tested for her knowledge of the Code - he'd clarified before she could flippantly ask which one he wanted - and although some of her answers had been accepted, the majority had been found... lacking. The back of her neck burned at the recollection.
Two desires warred in the woman and eventually she rubbed the heel of her hand again before turning towards the training arena. She could center herself with a little bit of physical activity at least and maybe she could shake the itch in her shoulders before she turned to another round of hurting her liver.
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