Jedi Academy

Zanja determinedly bit back a yawn as she approached the room Master Kerra had specified. She wasn't at all sleepy--too high on all kinds of excitement for that--but she was physically tired. Maybe she'd be too tired to mind the pain much? A Zabrak could hope.

According to one of the files she'd looked up yesterday, some xenologists believed the ancient Iridonians used to give their young people tattoos after the first time they participated in a successful hunt or raiding party. Zanja felt a little bit like that at the moment. Ancient species memories and all that. I'll try not to bite anybody, though. She chuckled to herself.

The room set aside was one that was often used when recieving visiting ambassadors from Iridonia, and as such the room had a few decorations from the Zabraki world - including some large paintings of the world's nature.



"Zanja, good evening," Kerra recieved her, dressed in muted greys and sand-colored robes. "Are you ready?"

"Evening, Master Kerra," Zanja said in a respectful tone. "I'm as ready as I'm going to get, definitely." The young Zabrak was a bit too tired to be eager, but she definitely didn't look apprehensive. Quiet, but self-assured.

It was as if Kerra either sensed or knew the ordeals Zanja had faced that day, and she gave the younger Zabrak a proud nod of approval.

"Have you thoughts about your patterns, or is it up to the will of the Force?"

"I did think about it, some," Zanja admitted. She fished a slightly creased flimsy out of the capacious pocket of her robes. "I, uh, I'm not very good at art stuff, though."

It appeared to be a printout of several images from the archive's files, adorned with some extra scribbles. Zanja had picked out some motifs that seemed to have meaning for her, though how exactly to combine them would fall to the discretion of the artist (or the will of the Force). Some were easy to interpret--it was fairly obvious why a girl like Zanja would gravitate toward the 'thorns' motif. Others were less obvious; maybe they reminded her of family or other people she'd been close to, maybe she just thought they looked cool.

Kerra looked over the pictures, smiling faintly herself. It was a bit different from her own patterns which were more fluid and circular.

"Seems very fitting to a warrior. It will be so, Zanja." She gestured to a low table that kind of looked like those massage-tables seen in advertisements for spas and resorts. "Make yourself comfortable."

"O-okay." At the moment of truth, Zanja did look a little nervous as she arranged herself on the table. Lying down and staring up at the ceiling was a vulnerable-feeling position, after all.

"Do not worry," the older Zabrak managed to sound rather calm and soothing in her tone. Or maybe it was just her presence in the Force that made it seem so. Her voice at least was considerably softer than it used to be, and somehow also authorative... maybe like how the ancient Iridonian tribal leaders had a long time ago during a youth's coming of age?

Her calloused hands could be felt framing Zanja's face as she brushed away some the girl's hair. "Close your eyes, and relax. Take a deep breath and open yourself up to the Force."

Zanja nodded, tucking her hands into her sleeves so she wouldn't be tempted to reach for her face. She took a few measured breaths and shut her eyes, trying to hear the music of the Force over her own heartbeat.

It probably felt like forever until she felt the beginning of the tattoo needles poking her skin. At first, it hurt - a kind of stinging sensation that spread like warmth across her face, but after the first few minutes, the pain was becoming less intense and was slowly but steadily being numbed down.

Zanja focused on breathing slowly and evenly, slipping into a trance-like state as the process continued...

Even for someone who wasn't the greatest student at meditation, the Jedi training was a good foundation to help time pass at a somewhat tolerable pace while doing nothing.

Time dragged on, and it felt like forever. Legs were probably falling asleep too by the time Master Kerra spoke again. "It is done. You will feel sore, and perhaps the need to scratch it, the next days..."

"... but don't scratch it. Right." Zanja's voice was a bit creaky as she blinked her eyes open. Talking made the fresh tattoos on her cheeks twinge a little, and she winced, which of course made the forehead tattoos move... well, it was a good reminder to maintain a calm and serene facial expression. "Ooof." It took a bit of effort to sit up. Is this what being an adult feels like?

Itchy?

She blinked a few more times.

"Don't scratch it, no," Kerra had a deadpan expression in return. "How are you feeling?"