Her wrapped feet skimmed lightly over the rough surface, cloth muffling any sound and protecting from the debris strewn about. She did not want to alert any residents below of her daily activities on this roof, wished to avoid unnecessary provocation. Yet the cramped rooms inside the holding did not provide adequate space for her training, prevented her from executing the sweeping strikes of Shii-Cho or the acrobatics of Ataru she'd begun to study. Her posture was erect, her movements lithe and graceful as a dancer's. She'd bound her long hair tightly to prevent it from getting in the way and obscuring her sight as she whirled and swung, feinting and countering imaginary blows.
She worked her way across the rooftop, reached the edge and leapt onto a rusty banister, calling on the Force to steady herself and the creaking metal she now balanced on. Bringing her saber in close she adjusted her centre, letting the scarlet blade flick out and around her to protect from all angles without moving more than her sword arm, her stance wide and firmly grounded despite the rickety construction beneath her. Flickering lights bathed her form in luminescence where she stood, recalling a memory of another girl, slender, dark-haired, eyes glinting with madness, dangling over a precipice while grim faced friends and concerned strangers looked on. For all of their silent fury and demands for the girl's blood, the one to put an end to things had been one of Qorr's own. A friend who'd pulled the trigger and let her fall rather than see her endanger any more people.
Pausing mid-movement, Liracen closed her eyes, sympathy resonating through her. It shouldn't have been him to do it. He didn't deserve the pain and guilt of his decision. It should have been one of them. Her, even.
She opened her eyes again, giving them barely a heartbeat to refocus before pulling her saber back and down in a diagonal slice while launching herself from the banister in a forward flip, landing heavily in a crouch, her weapon completing its path moments before the impact shook her. She clenched her teeth, extinguished the blade. Not good enough! A sloppy move like that would cost her her head in a real combat situation. She couldn't let herself get distracted and mope over her own indecisiveness, no matter how much it stung that despite all her training, all her progress, she still could not bring herself to act outside of the most dire situations. Even when friends' lives were at stake – be it the sneering Pureblood waving his saber in Jester's face, known threats like the dark-haired Sith who was so fond of creeping into people's heads uninvited or freak occurences like the crazed girl who'd thrown a grenade at a group of people in the middle of the Promenade – all she seemed capable of was freezing and watching.
Pushing herself up out of the dust and rubble she paced across the roof to begin anew.