Faction All Who Walk the Jedi Path [Any Jedi]

[Tirin Raene]

TAGS: Tirin Raene Matsu Ike Katarine Ryiah Pari Sylune Jonyna Si Jasper Kai'el Braze Rik Perris Hwo Casaana Silas Westgard Alaric Kei Amadis Sera Rath Nihro Zark San Tekka Ala Quin Kyric
All Jedi are welcome to take part.

The Exonerator drifted in orbit above a desolate moon, a lone silhouette against the pale light of a distant star. A single transponder ping pulsed outward through the void, carrying the same message sent days before:

---

✦ Transmission: An Open Message to All Who Walk the Jedi Path ✦​

LOCATION:	Uncharted System | Desolate Moon, Outer Rim Territories | Aboard the Exonerator
DATE:	11/15/2025

Subject: An Invitation to Gather a Grand Jedi Council

To the Masters, Knights, and Initiates of all Enclaves, Temples, and Orders who hold allegiance to the Light,

Across the stars, the name Jedi has taken many forms. Some of us train within mountain sanctuaries; others teach beneath open skies or wander among the Outer Rim. Yet though distance and doctrine may divide us, the Force remains one.

An open invitation is extended to every enclave, every Order, and every solitary practitioner who still answers to the name Jedi.

A convocation is to be held, a Grand Jedi Council, not in title of rule, but in spirit of unity. All who wish to take part are welcome, whether few or many. The purpose of this gathering is not to impose structure or authority, but to listen, share, and seek understanding of the galaxy's present state and the role of the Jedi within it.

This council shall be a meeting of voices, and not of ranks.
Let it be the beginning of renewed cooperation, communication, and compassion among our scattered kin with the shared intention to build bridges where the years have left silence.

May the Force guide your journey, and bring us together once more.

(End Transmission)​

Inside, the main assembly deck had been cleared for arrival. The space was wide and uncluttered, lined with soft illumination strips that cast long, steady pools of light across the polished floors. A round holo-table rested at the center, inactive for now, its surface waiting for the voices that would soon fill the room.

Crew members moved quietly, making final adjustments in preperation for arrival of guests who wanted to come in person. Seating arrangements were set in a loose circle rather than rows, encouraging conversation rather than formality. A few small machines hummed in the corners, warming tea accompanied by simple refreshments for the arriving guests. Through the observation window, the silent horizon of the moon stretched out below, offering this large meeting room a serene Vista.

A walkway led from the docking rings towards the gathering chamber. Steps echoed lightly through the ship, making it easy for new arrivals to hear the presence of others before they met them face to face. This meeting was meant to feel open, approachable, and safe. Only the shared purpose of understanding the galaxy as it was and deciding what to do next.

Among them were Matteo, Raphalae, and Sable. Matteo oversaw the docks, guiding new arrivals inside. Raphalae handled the internal routes and helped visitors find their way. Sable prepared the main chamber, setting out seats and refreshments. Together they kept the ship moving smoothly and made sure every guest felt welcome.

Those who stepped aboard would find a simple sign at the entrance, projected in soft white light:

Welcome.
All Jedi paths, all traditions, all travelers of the Light.
Enter freely.

From there, the gathering could begin as soon as the first arrivals chose to speak.

Tirin settled into one of the plush velvet seats, letting the softness support his weight as the low hum of the ship filled the silence around him. For the first time since sending the transmission, he allowed himself to breathe and simply sit. He nursed a cup of warm tea allowing it to sooth his weary bones.

 

[Jonyna Si]

TAGS: All Yall I ain't pinging everyone​

The Tenacity exited hyperspace with a whisper. Inside, Jonyna Si, Master of the Bokken Order. It was still a small sect, but with her were a trio of jedi that she called her order. For now, it was enough.

As the ship came into the hanger of the Exonerator, Jonyna let out a sigh. She hadn't been back from her own self imposed exile since the founding of the Rebellion, and yet she knew what laid in front of her.

A lot of arguments about doctrine. About the Force. People telling her she wasn't a real jedi.

She didn't have anything to prove to anyone. She had seen this all before. She'd seen the galaxy turn dark, the light fade to an ember.

She wasn't here to argue. She was here to recruit.

 

[Matsu Ike]

Tirin Raene Jonyna Si

Location: The Antiquiem

The invitation had been an interesting prospect. If only because it wanted everyone there as the Silver Jedi's grandmaster remained standing. Her attention going from the central chambers of the temple where the padawans were learning. Their bodies subjected to the strangeness of the world between as they were learning resistances and focus. "That will be enough for today." She said it as the force vibrated around her... molecules shifting and vibrating where the petite masters form glided through it rising into the air to be in the middle of and look at all of them. "You are doing better, return to your temples and we will continue this next week."

They were tired and moving as the Arisen brought to them waters to refresh them. Their bodies shaking a little but they were strong and learning to resist mentally as opposed to just another kata. Her eyes followed them leaving as a hand came up altering the air while she manipulated and shifted the atoms. To stack, form and create the particles and screen in the air so she could read it. SHe smile remained on her face though as her hair floated behind her stringing itself through the bonds and connections to appear like a weightless curtain of black. Sparkling kyber beads and bells adorning it while they glinted in the light appearing more like stars.

"Well." She said it for a moment as the temple itself almost became a void of sound making her voice echo into the strangeness of it. "If nothing else." SHe focused on the force, letting it vibrate throughout her body as the unbeing came. The layer just below the galaxy, a weave of the force itself came into her minds eyes. Senses as she sought the lightside of the force and she plucked a ribbon of energy. Mentally the twang was there in a moment as it moved aside and she could see it.. the line of energy to where she wanted to go as she gripped it. Traveling in a displacement of rippling force energies that deposited her through and into the hand.

She stood there for a moment and looked around with a small look on her face as the displaced energy rippled around her.. coming back into her hands. She floated there just off the surface and suppressed her presence in the force. Making it small in the force through art of the small while manipulating the molecules so she didn't disturb the air. Her hair still fanned out and floating, skin almost glowing with a sub-dermal light that brightened her near ivory pale skin. Eyes looking more like black pools rimmed with a molten starlight but she made no sounds. Her breathing measured as she manipulated the molecules and particles in her lungs entangling them inner areas to other worlds to breathe.

She looked on but maintained a smile of interest. Her head tilting for a moment as she observed and placed her hands in front of herself clasped in an almost demure look. THe silvery white robes gleaming and clean. Both clinging to and baggy on her small frame as it almost seemed to be breathing with her. The over cloak part of it going to her boots. Her hair as she moved when she allowed it having the faintest sound of the kyber bells that resonated in the force. "Thank you for the invitation." She spoke and her voice was soft and barely audible but rebounded being able to bounce and be heard by the ones who she wanted to hear it.

 

[Fahlv Vehnek]

OOC: (If this is too stupid and a bit unrealistic, let me know and I'll edit if needed, or just leave if it's a pain... Also, my first attempt writing a mute character, so I hope I render her decently.)

It was amazing that she hadn't gotten her ass shot off on the way towards the moon.

Thankfully, the Light was with her. It always did seem to pull through, but it did seem to have quite the sense of humor about how it enabled Fahlv Vehnek to survive some of the predicaments she often got herself into...

As if being a mute wasn't enough!

The unusually designed TIE/sr scout had held up from where it had been... "Procured" from. It was wobbling as it approached the docking ring around the location that she was approaching. Apprehension and the slightest twinges of fear began to gnaw at her heart, and not from the possibility that the Imp kooks who she had gotten her ride from may have followed her... That was impossible, as heads needed bodies to move. No, Fahlv was apprehensive because she knew next to nothing about this damned research station that her damaged TIE/sr was drifting lopsidedly towards... The angle was off and worsening, buuuuuut...

KLA-CHUNKA! SCREEEEEE!

The Amaran huffed and winced as her ship roared and whined against the edges of the docking ring, making her ears fold as she hissed through gritted teeth. A swift movement of her hand allowed her dexterous fingers to scan through nearby space - her luck held out! Just at six o'clock behind her another vessel was on an approach vector! The excited Amaran stuck another key to send an automated distress beacon towards the ship at her aft-end (ha ha...)... Only for the console to explode in a shower of blue sparks at the poor Amaran's face! A gasp of shock and a twist of her face saved her whiskers and fur, even as the TIE/sr whirred and hummed, the lights fading as the power gave out at last; the ship still drifting away from the docking ring, having bounced right off of it!

A sigh of annoyance fled the girl's lower lip, and she took a moment to smooth her scarlet hair, a stray forelock popping back up at the same angle as she locked on a breath mask over her muzzle, feeling rather uncomfortable in the human-made device over her short muzzle. Adjusting the goggles and locking the oxygen canister into place at her belt, the black-furred canine lifted the mechanical emergency hatch with a nudge of the Force, popping open the "glorified can" of the TIE and gazing out into the vast cold of space.

The Light was indeed with her - Master Keeral, the crotchety old Cerean droidcrafter, was idling up right alongside her ship, which had rotated with the hatch facing his oncoming vessel! Oh, what a glorious ending to this stupid trip! Feeral was a good man - he had suspected something was amiss, because his ship angled towards the dead, drifting TIE, even as Fahlv angled her knees and pushed herself off into the coldness of space, her ghost-white robes flowing like a phantasm's eldritch glory behind her even as the chill bit into fur and skin...

 

[Casaana]

Jadefire

Casaana had arrived early, which was fortunate for her, as she'd been unable to resist the temptation to wander as much of the elegant white-gold ship as their hosts were willing to let her. The Exonerator was fascinating both visually and from a technical standpoint, though Casaana wasn't interested in expressing any of her admiration so eloquently. Instead she ran from one interesting thing to the next, removing covers and sticking her head into maintenance hatches before the caretakers finally managed to guide her to the meeting room.

Taking a seat there, she immediately sprang to her feet again to go help herself to a cup of hot tea and some finger foods, even slipping a few sandwich slices into a belt pouch for later. On her way back, she stopped in front of the Atrisian Master draped in shimmering white robes, startled by the sudden surging in the Force and her thanks echoing through the room. "Master Ike! When did you come in? Always nice to see someone from the Kashyyyk Temple!" That had been ages ago, she'd just been a youngling in those days and wouldn't be surprised if the Master didn't recognize her. Either way, she was excited to be here, taking part in what would hopefully be a historic moment.

Matsu Ike Jonyna Si Fahlv Vehnek
Tirin Raene Braze​

 

[Rath Nihro]

H O P E

Outfit
Tag: Tirin Raene Jonyna Si Fahlv Vehnek Braze Matsu Ike Casaana

Jedi. Such a term was often placed on the enemies of the Sith, and by the same token, it served as a symbol of hope. Rath had been mistaken to be a Sith in the past, yet he never claimed to be one. For he never followed their doctrine or their rules, but followed the Force itself. He never claimed to be a Jedi either, and yet the Sith continued to call him as such.

His boots were soft on the metal flooring, nearly silent, like the whisper of his approach. The arrival of his presence would have been felt before Rath’s ship entered the hangar bay. As if the air itself had grown heavier with the Force, but unlike in the past. His presence didn’t inspire dread and violence. The moment the landing ramp popped open with a hiss, Rath’s nose was filled with a multitude of scents. So many attuned to the Force were present on the vessel. He breathed in hints of spice like cinnamon, and with it came a plethora of herbaceous scents as well.

’At least it’s better than smelling blood and death all the time.’ Rath mulled over his thoughts. His hand gingerly reached up to cover his nose as the Force felt like the celestial currents were pulling him off the ship. His feet carried him down the ramp, where he was greeted and welcomed by the one named Matteo. In contrast to how some carried themselves, he certainly didn’t wear any of the traditional robes or armor for that matter. Instead of his attire, Dawn was clipped onto his belt, and on his left flank was a Shroudsaber. Both of which served more than just mere tools. Both were the physical manifestation of Rath’s journey.

’That reminds me, I need to make my armor again.’ Rath noted. The Empire’s Shadow had served to be a dauntless ally that had kept him alive all these years, and yet it was still a stark reminder of the shadow he once cast. Regrettably, Rath didn’t pay much attention to the others aside from passing a fleeting glance in their direction. A habit of being aware of the faces within view and noting the layout of the ship. That was until he came upon the chamber where the scents were at their strongest point. Ever go into a candle shop and immediately get bombarded with all manner of scents? Yeah, that’s what it’d feel as Rath’s nose was positively burning.

There were a few that Rath recognized in passing, but he couldn’t say that he was acquainted with any of them. A habit that Rath noted he should break. His eyes were vibrant green, like the lustrous leaves of Kashyyyk, with flakes of gold that glimmered under the lighting. To him, the majority of the Jedi present were foreign, but that was the point of this meeting. To rekindle the embers of hope that had been laid bare before them.

He wasn’t anyone of importance, and given his history, Rath doubted that anyone would want to hear from him. He noted how, despite his lack of recalling faces, Rath wasn’t a stranger to eyes that seared into him from those who suffered by his hand. Without a word, Rath opted to take a seat with some gaps between himself and the others. And there he simply waited for the gathering to begin. Well, that and he’s a bit antisocial to begin with. He’d rather choose silence and observe before speaking.

 

[Fahlv Vehnek]

Tag: Tirin Raene Tirin Raene Jonyna Si Jonyna Si Braze Braze Matsu Ike Matsu Ike Casaana Casaana Rath Nihro

Fahlv didn't get exactly why Master Keeral tended to yell at her so much! For one, Fahlv couldn't exactly say much of anything back, and for seconds, didn't he realize that the Light called each person, Force Sensitive or not, back home to the Netherworld on a purely individual basis?

It was probably one hell of a weird sight for the service crew: a strange little canid alien shuffling along on bare feet, trailed by a cursing, yelling old Cerean man behind her, even as her ears twitching, absorbing every word but choosing to ignore it for decency's sake, as well as to focus on the plate of baked Gloomroots with herb-laced Nerf butter that she had prepared for herself just now, after having located the kitchen. He had lectured her once just before they had arrived in his shuttle - Thank the Force for that - just now, but she didn't see why he had to keep on about it. His brisk steps - walking sideways alongside her as she walked forward - through those bright halls made her worry... She wasn't the idiot, he was! He was one wrong step away from falling and breaking a hip! It wasn't practical to walk sideways like he was doing.

At last, the Cerean concluded, with a stroke over his long, multi-braided and intricate beard, practically tugging it out in his frustration-fueled rant. "You'd do DAMN WELL to actually plan more than two steps ahead!! It's your lack of focus and foresight that constantly get you into these situations and are holding you back from Knighthood, as well as your abject REFUSAL to construct a lightsaber, or to allow a new Master to take you under their wing! KRIFFING IDIOT! Those are the only things holding you back from Knighthood!!"

Seriously?! Lack of foresight? Refusal of a lightsaber?

He was just jealous that she had received both a prophecy when she had been called to the Order (however minor it may be) and a specially crafted sword give to her by the Hermit that had demanded she be inducted into the Order eight years ago, most likely. The large blade was a constant weight across her back, and it was only slightly too big for her, but she used it well enough, almost like a broadsword when aided by the Ataru fighting style, and only when she used it, even then, and she had a perfectly good, borrowed lightsaber on her belt, as well. Old fart. He was a good guy, but his jealousy often got the best of him.

The Amaran entered the meeting as Master Pissypants broke off from her to find a distant chair - doubtless the other Jedi would have heard his cursing and ranting from a whole system away - but the petite alien pitter-pattered forward, set aside her still-steaming Gloomroot and utensils, and went back against the far wall, removing the bronzium scabbard and the bandolier of her pseudo-broadsword; laying it carefully against the wall. The demure Amaran shed her ghostlike outer robe, to bunch it next to the sword, properly. The petite and slim little fox alien, smoothing over her short, blood-red hair, sighed as she made her way back to her waiting vegetable, hand signaling her arrival with a wave towards the other seated at the table, with her attention focused on her plate of vegetables.

She hadn't eaten in days!

 

[54361]

Ţ̶͉̖̘̠͔͉̐̉̋̓͝͠͝h̶̼̯̘̝̯̠̔̋̎̇̃̓̊͌̇̀͘̕e̴̫͇̰̘͑͜ ̸͎̑̊͛̒̈̊͒̄̉́̚͜͜t̵̨̛̬̹͇͚͙͔̰̽̌͊̀͒̆̑͑͝͠a̶̧̞̞͉͙̮̲͗̔̀̔̔̈̒̆̐͆ļ̴̘̫̻̦̥̳̪͉́̔́͐̾͆̀̿̿͑̃̽͊͆̕ͅk̸̢̡͓̜̺̻̲̩̝̮̺͔̦̃̅̑̾̌͂̊͛́̓͑̎̈́́ ̸̨̧̮͔̮̥͍̺̥͔̦̐̐̄̽̅͜͝ẗ̴̯̮̋̀͑̍̚͝ư̷̭̭̰͉͚̥̱̐͂̌͒͒͝ͅr̷̝̞̻͔̪̣͔͚͇͚̣̬̞̞̺̓̔̀͋̿̅̋̈́͌̓̉̕n̴̛̞̍̈́̈́̇̐̋̓̆͂̈́̕e̷̢͇̦̭̼̳̰̼̼̯̫̼͊̐͛̌̌̑̑̈́̂̐̎̕͠͝ḑ̸̣͚͚̦͙̟͍̥̺̾̾̊̎̓̈͗̃͌̕ͅ ̸̛̘̣̰͔̥̓́̇̓̚͘͝ț̴̛͈̝̞̹̰͊̈ò̶̧͎͓̞̳̘̟̘͙͒͐̔͠ ̶̨̧̠̝̫͈̖͉̬̳͎̼̰̠̳͑͂͋̆̚̚͝t̵̻̹̭̞͈̯͖͇̬̞̟͙̦̼͔̆̿̍̅͊̂̌̈̌̈́ą̵̳̫͍̤̟̤̩͈̇̈̑́̎͗̅͜͠͝ç̸̨̧̡̡͈̞̪͎͚̦͓̤̠̙̉̌̿̅̂̿̂̃͛́͘̚̕͝t̴̡͔̳͙̞̜͎͓̠̜͎͈̙̬̐͐̈́̃̇͠ī̴͕́̅̿͘c̴̡̨̗̰̥̞̈̓̔̈̒̓̂́̐̚͘s̷̺̦̝͖̦̖̜͈̩̬̔̈́̒̄͜͠ͅͅͅ ̶̡̻̞̠͍̯̣̯̬͍̮̣͋̋͊͒͋̎̐̽̒ā̴͇̼̼̰̺̖͓͓̠̔͊͌́̂̐̒͑͂̍̚͘͘͘͜n̶͇͍̞̝̄̔̂͐d̸̹̋ ̶͖̂͗͒͒̽͝͠͝K̴̹̐̊̇̃͊̃̉̓̾a̷̮͍̝̮͙͑t̴͈̹̎͊͠a̴̤̻̠̣̋̄̊r̵͙̍̾̑͋̓͗͝͠͝î̴͎̥̪̝̔͛́̄̒̈́͠͝n̵̼̱̙̖̹̄̓̓ȩ̷̡̡̛̙̟̰͍̼̳͔͉̦̊́̇̂͌͂͐̃͗̈́͝͝͝͝ ̵̧̅̉̎̈́͌̅͝p̵̡̤͍͔͎͙̹̜̪̣̝̲͑͆̎͌͆̒͋̍̆͜͝o̸̥̟̰͐̔̑͐̓̈́̽̕͝͝ǹ̸͇̀͗͛̃͒̀̓͌̓͘̕͝d̴̨̜̙̱̦͇͒͛̓̓̽̅̏͠ͅè̷̪̱̂̃̕r̵̨͇͙̯̖̦̽͠͝e̷̠̼͂̽̌̈́̐ḑ̴̛͎̫͉͈̪̬͖͈̀̓̑͂ ̸̨͕̘̪̫̹̂̍̋͘f̴̧̦̮̹̺̟̗̙̥̜̊̑̃̚ͅŏ̵̪͚͕̰͉͖̬̻̳̈́̉̓̐̀̽̊̀͋̈͐͜r̶̨̢̛̩̯̫̱͕̖͔͂̂̽͒͌̑͛͆̃̓͑̕͘͝ ̴̢̢̡͙̖̰͈̙̮͉̝̖̖͖̉a̷̬̰͈͋̈́̀̃͘ ̸̡̢̛͚̗͍̼̰͔͓͕̥̫̞͐̂̆̌̉͂̂̂͐͘̚ͅm̶̹̣̟̜̑̾̆͆̆͠o̸̡̢̥̙̯̫͙̱̽̅̍̌́̋m̶̨̧̡̰͎̜͙͔͙͓̗̎̋̎̚e̶̡̙͕̟̲̱̘̿͑͌͒͊́̓͆͂͘͘n̸͈̖̞͈̙͕̭͖͐͛̄͋͊̿͜ţ̵̻̩̪͎͔͒̈́̇̃̆͂̅̋̄͐.̷̧̰͑ ̵͎͖͎͘E̶̼͔̠̺͚͍͈̓̽̿̉̾̋̂v̶̜̞̰̪͗̀̈́̀͊̊̓͜͜͝ẻ̷̢̢̮̙̥͉̤̻͇̬̄́͊͑̎͗͗̄͂̉r̵̢̧̺̪̳̺̥̬̖̼̼̼̤͍͂̊͋͊̎̀̓̐̀̀̌͐͘͜y̶͉̬̱̞̗̠̩̤͊̈́͂̂̎͒̚͜͝͠t̴͓͆̑̈͌̄́̀̑̀͝h̵̭̺̠̏͗̌͆͑̎̈́̾͂̏͂͗͘̚͜i̴̩̟̩̰̗̹̰̲̞̦͉̫͓͉͇͛͆͒͆n̸͔͕͎͖̻͉̦͕̰̖̻͍̽͊̾̋̊̈́͛̃̅ğ̸̻͉̂̃̚ ̷̢̭͕͕̖̜̮̯͙̳̏̃̐̽͝ă̶̢̙͇̪͎̤͚̦̰͌͊̐̓̿̕͜b̸̼̊̽̾̏̄̏̈̒͜͠͝ö̷̡͙̖͙͍̩̤̞̦͈́̓̐̈́́̔̍͋̈́̌́͜͠ͅừ̴̗̪̹̤̯̘̆̿́̀͒̀̽͝t̴̫̻̮̯͙̤̠̯̲̅̍̚ ̸̟̻̖͇̹͉̮̰̬̍͋̌̀͆̋͂̂͗̏͊͆̎ͅt̸̺̖̙̯̗̼͖̯̗̖̘͆̓̉̏́̽̔̈̕ḩ̷̨̙̮̜͙͈̪͇̟̪̜̞̕͜i̸̖̟̓̓̅̍̃̀̊̋́͌́s̵͖̟̦͚͎̄̌̽͗̊̀͆͠ ̸̧̨̨̢̛͙͉̮̪̤̦̰͓̱̠̈́̃͌̃̒̉͆̊́̀̔͜͝t̷̛̩̤̘͙͉͕͎͎̗̥̎̒͌͛̉̍̄͌̆̊͌̕͠ͅr̶̯̟̭͓̬̩͕̯͈̪̫̬̈́̎̀̀̍̋̋i̸͖͓̬̤̺̞̩̺̯͎̙̲̬̎̐͜p̶̢̩̦̯͚̟̦͈̈́͌̄͛̌ ̸̫̣͐̇̃͂̒̐͘ẁ̸̪̬͔̞͔̻̫͈͍́̂̒̂̊̓͆̈̌̚͜ͅͅa̵̛͈̱͚̥̥̫̰̮̫̜̼͆̈́̊͛̑̀͒̇͗̚s̸̢̛̭̭̱̠̟̰͎͓̼̊͂̑̓̌̌̄̔̉̃̄͆̿̕ ̵̡̛̱̜̳̮̖̣͍̱͚̦̟̮̹̌̈́͌͊̑̄̔̅̐̏͑͘ḏ̶̳̱̬̬̹̣͍̱̯͇̝̍͒́́͐͒̽ͅa̴͚͇̖̩̜̐̿̆͒͒̐͒̈ǹ̷̢̝̯̠̝̤̤͕̖̺͓̅͒͗͗̒̊͜ğ̷̢̟͉͙̗̦̬̲̱̙̓̇́̿͑̈̕e̵̟͉̖̐̒́́̂̋̀̃̎́̆̀̏̕͜͜r̶̻̩̠̘̟̺̘̺̐́̈́ỏ̸͉̠͎͍̑͑̀͗̓̚ų̸̨̧̫̠̙͕͈̼̜̫̪̄̅̈́́s̷̟̖̤̯͓̫̬̰̘̻͍͉͚̋̐͗̃͜ ̶͚͉̜͖͚̘̟͍̃͗͌̃͜͝ş̸̻̰̖̬̙̺̭̩͉̗͂͂ǫ̶̡̰͔͇̟̭͇̫̫͈͍̀̆̐̈́̒̈̌̊̕̕̚͠ ̴̨̛̯̜͚͍̙͓̲̰̠̱̖̙̖̌͆̓̐̉̃̔̆̆t̴̛͔͎͈̱͔̖̎̐́͗̽̎̕h̴̦͍͓͈͕̼̘̥̪̫͓̺͂͊̋̄̑ẽ̷͕̰̮̪͇̥͗r̵̡̬̞͓̯͚͉̜̗̯̗̽e̴̢̛͇̟̮̘͎͙͔̣͙̘͆̽̈̂͗̿̇͊͝ ̶̛͕̠̜̼͓͕̫̠̝̻͕͔̈̈̓̾̃͆̆̉͌͜w̷̢̙̙͎͕̗̩̖̮̆̈́͐͊̈̕͠à̴͔̭̺̯̎̈́̉̾̀͐͊͑̈̆́̀̀͜s̵̢̠͇͚̺̞̜̘̲̜̩͐̿͋̍͝ͅ ̵̧̨͚͍͙͙̭̞̙͖̙͔̗̽͋̈́̕͜ȑ̵̡̨̨͕̦̺̣̖͓̗͇̼̖͌́͂̔̈́̕͝͝ͅe̷͚͌̉̋̓͆́̇̃̿͂̃̈a̴̧̘̪̘̾̀̕ļ̷͈͖͚͍͇̤̹̝̥͕̠̄̊́̑͘l̸̞̣͑̄̀ẙ̵͚̭͓ ̷̹̮̭̳͚͒n̵̛̬̞̗͔̆̾͆͘͠͝o̶͔͎̲̩͐́̑̈́͐̓̈́̐͠͝ ̴̭̩̲͔̱͈̳̗̥̎́̃̈́́̏̊̏̿͝ẅ̴̛̩̲̰̦͈̘̫͍̰͕́̈́̿̊̄̽̏̊̃̔͑͜͝͝a̷̡̧̳̺̲̦͉̺̮̠͖̱̞͊̔y̴̨̧̱͙͚̺̗͉̖͑ ̸̧̳͎̭̻͍̥̭̋t̵̨͒̄̓̈́͝o̶͎̫̭̘̼͉̜͔̓ ̸͖͉̪͈͎̭̖̿̏̋̈́̈́̑̄̄̎͠͝m̶̧̧̡̹͖͍̪͗̈̑͂̔̾̉͋͝ī̶̧̨͎͓̜̪̩͍͙͓͓́͜ń̵͍̀͆͆̄͘̚̕i̶͙͙̐͗̔̃̑͌͋̀͋͒͝͝m̴̡͈̼̩̼͖̰̭͖̥̾̔͋̀͝ͅḯ̵͉͕̬̠͗̑̍̄͒͂̍̏͒z̴̹̳̰̻̭͖͖̩̮͍̰̝̅̌͗̀̒̌̀͛̅́̂͒̓͘ȩ̴̤̩̂͊ ̴̘̤̝͕̟̣͓̲̘̱̲̾̆̑́̑͜t̷̪͈͈̞̣͙͉͕̪̣̬̭͈͆̈́̈̀͜h̸̫̦͕̓̊̂̀̂̀̆̓͆͆̎͋̍͠e̷̛͙͎͇̗͕͉̣̣̘̒̂̄͑͑̐̃̐͛̒͘͝ ̸̭̹̓̀͛̊͗́̃̓͑͌̓̚͝h̴̢̧̲̺͉̠͓̭̮͚̿͛̈́̑͒̆̃̊̃̑̒̇͆ạ̷͐̈́̈́̇͒̀̔̄̓̚͝r̵̘̔̾̑̈́̈́͌̎̆̈́͆̒̀̀̾́m̶̨͔̬̪͈̥̿͆̉́̋̽̑̐͐̊͗̕͘͠ͅͅs̵̘̻̬͕͕͈͉̮̈́̓́̀̆͛̓͠ ̸̢̰̘̱͔̣͛̈́̔͂̂͜w̵̧͉̭͔̞͋̋̏̀̑̚̚a̴̢̡̯̮̩̝͎͍͖̤̾̆͑̌̉̄̉͐̒̈̽ỷ̸̩̲̳̖̗̹́̐̑̽̈́̐̇ ̸̨̯͎̥͉̀s̶̨̨̫͓̰͙͔̝͑͊̐̑͑ͅh̴͉̯͍̰̤̘̯̭́̏̄̈́̋͐͝͠ȇ̵̡̢̱͙̙̠͔̦̻͚̣̓̑̎̆͌͋͌͜ ̸̩̣͉̠͔̰̻̺̘̦̲̞͚̮͔̌̑͊̐̓̅̽̏͌̾̍͑̄͆ŵ̴̨̈́̓͆̊͂͘a̵̰̭̦͖̭̱͉̓̌̈́̓̉͜ͅs̸̛̺͓̉̽̏̓̈́̂̀̓͘͘͘͜͜͝ ̵̧̬͓̖̝̣̊̓̏͒̈́̊̑̾̇͌͂͊̚͠p̶̧̣̼̝̹̬͚̅̏̃̆̂̅̂͌͗͌̑̍͝ͅĺ̶̨̡̨̥͓̣̬̙̦̰̫̘̠̝̏̉̃͂̈́̓̓̎̀̋̚̕a̶̢͎̣͑͊͊̾̑͋̏̒̈̓̚c̷̛͓̈͋͌̃͗̅͗̃͋̂̚͝ì̶͚͉̞͓̞̟̘̤̻̍̾̅̓̓̔̀̏͘n̶͓̻͇̯̥̟͎̞̬̮̎̃̍͋̋̇̅g̶̻̗͕̜̘͓̬̊̎̓͒̕ ̴̢͚̣̹̦͚̺̥̯̯͊̄̃̑͆͐͌̎͗͑̉̈́͝ͅͅh̸̡̧̜͎̟̟̫͚̘̳̬̪͕͚̓̋̀̓͐͆́̔̾͘̕i̶̧̪̣͍̝̪̥̟͎̦̯̺̝̬̦̽̎̆̈̎̈̏͌͒͘̚m̴̛͖͊̎͆͝ ̵̛̥͍̼̳̮̫̗͗̃̆͗́į̶̲̖͈̭͍͕͓̖͍̳̼̭͉̏̓̎͋͂̓̎́n̷͎̼̺͚͖̜̊͌̇̎̈́͒̀͋͊̇͐͊̆.̵̼̮̗̦̫̩̬̤̭̪̫͆ ̴̨͉͚̝̝̩̜͍̿̒̿̆͐͂̉Ş̴̛̦̆̐̀̿̐̏̽͑͛͒̔h̶̰́͛̉͗ȩ̶̧͉̰͔͎͙̣̖͖̤͖̌̓̓́́̿͒͂͘ ̴̯̋̑̍̌̏͌̐͑a̷̢̳͌̾̉̀̅͋̓͆̄̚͠͝ļ̷̞͉̭̱̝̥̖͈̾͐̊̽̊̃̑̃͛̚͜͝ś̴̡̛̪̮̼̞̞͂̽̑́̂̈́͛̏̾͒͂̆͋ͅȯ̶̻̣̙̘̖͓̜͇͔̙̮̟̏͒̐͐̈̄͗͛͌̍̆̕͘͠ͅͅ ̴̢̧̢̯͎̘̳̘̽̿̀́̆̓́͑̈́̕d̶̡̳̱̗̄͂̀̋̔́̍́͘͘i̸̧͉̱̪̳͕̣͖͋̈͛͠d̵͙̞̼̤̹̀̐̈́ͅn̷̜̑̂͂̇̋̀͊̍̓͝'̶̭̺͙͈͉̭̙̟̽̀̏̃͗̏̊̆͛̏̇̔̿̕͜t̶͕̝̃͑͂̃̊̇̒̉̍̀͌ ̵̛̼͔̘͎́̊̿̈́̿̔̓́̿͘ķ̶̨͓͕̻̼̪̙̖̯̥̖̺́̉͒͗͌̏̃̒̕̕̕͝n̷̺̒͂ớ̸̡͈̥͖̤̣̣͚̰̹̱̻̘̱͑̀͋̈̊̓̉̋͗́͛͝w̴̬̺̱̺̣̯͎̯̍͌̋̌́̊̋̑̉̏̃ ̷̡͍̮̖̘̪̠̮͚͐̓͊̑͗͌̒́̑͗̑̎̚͜͜͝h̸̠̾̿̓̄̐̃̽̍́̎ǫ̵̡̫͈̦̳͙̺̃̒̒̓̑̅́͑́͘͜ẇ̶̮͑͂̄ ̸̹̍̍̀̈́̈́̾͊̄̅͠m̴̨̢̢̯͇͓̳͓͇͎̼̬̅̈͆͘͠å̵̧̧͎̫̱̹̥̖̜̟̳̙̱̅̋̋́͐͝ñ̵̯̻͚̍̐̐̌̂̋̊̅̂̍̄͗y̷̺̳̼̹̼̩̟̿̀̎̔ ̶̛̞̤̌̍̀̽ç̶̧̦̞͓̟̰͔̫̙̓̃̋͂̽̈́̇u̴̡̫͕̎̀̀͋̀̾͝l̷̫̠͕͔̻̚͜ť̶͇̲͋̾̓̇́̈́̊̍̑́̓͝i̷̧̛̠̞̞̜̭̘̓̀̑̋̋̾͐́͘ͅs̴̛̹͈̮̬̰̲̫͇̖̻͇̮͙̜̋̀̄̽̂͂̈̕̕̚͠͝t̷̞̻̒̏͛́̑͒́͂̿͠͝͝ ̶̢͚̟̭̬̠̹͋̈́̄͂̈̈́̌̈́̈́ͅt̵̡̨̺̤̰̞̹̱̫̰͚̩̦̬̊̀̈́̀̾̒̿̌́͝ĥ̴̢̨̤͕̙͈͇͚͇̯̰͉̪͓̘͛̈̏͐́͗͗̊͝e̶̳̬̝̎̒̀̒̇̊̃̂̀̚͝͠ŗ̸̗̜̞̟͊̒͆́̒̐̋̓̈̔̎͘͝ę̵̘̠͚̝̭͎͔͇̗̘̗͓͑̈́̔͒͐̈́̈́̂ ̴̛̜̮̳̪̜̭͎̍̈́͝ͅw̶̢̨̥͍̝͓̟͇̭͔͍̰͍̔͒̎̋̈́͝ǫ̴̪̪̠͎̣̲̟͖̍̾́̕ư̶̢̧͕̣̗̳̻͇̩̮̜͎̫̈́̒͛̒̾͐̎̃̏̒͘͝l̴̻̻̗̦͒d̸̬̟͑̇̌͒ ̴̢̻̳̽̀̔̒̈̀̑͘͝͝b̶̥͋ě̵͓̞͔͇̲͚͈̺̫̿̐̎̊́͝ ̴̨̨̺͖̦̤̠̙̺̙́́͆͘̚a̸̛̰͓̰̹̙̜̝͉̦͊̃͑̊̀̂͆̆̋̽̎ͅț̵̗͚̺̔̀̓̎͌̿̂̋͑̃̎͝͝͝ ̸̢̯͓̦̝̱̮̠͚̑͐̀̃͐t̶̯̼͓̭̲̯̱̬̳̠́̿͊͊̅̀͜ͅh̸̛̛͖̯͇̀̈͒͂̈͛̈́̇̌̿̚͝è̸͇̞̼̼̂̚ ̸̧̡̛͖̟͉̖̣̘̥̙̳̳͎̐̽͗ţ̵̨̛̰̳̥͕̩̫̋͋͗̾͗̊͌ẹ̷̢̧̧̱̣̻̠̳̲̱̆̔̇͊̏͗͊̾́͠ḿ̵̛̛̰̲͈̮͔̒̌̍͛͆̓̀̉̓͌̚͝p̷̡̛͚̮͕̪̼̻̽͂̚l̵̫̖̖͍̙̉͆̽e̸̝̍̈̀͊̍͆̉̓̀̚ ̴̡͔̫̳̻̪̹͉̣͖͔̙̈́̔͌̇̀̔̏̋̚s̶̢̧̹̟̳̭͇̖͍̲̮̝̖̻͒͗̌̔͆̉̌͠͝ͅḩ̵̧̡̮̩̬̠̬̟͖̫̂̾̍͛̑̆̆̔̋̆͘͝͠e̷̬̠͚͑̈́̑̈́ ̵̧̲͕͔͍̘͙͔͔̓̐̽́̂̃̈͠ͅş̵̲͓̱̅͌̌̂̔͆̚̚a̷̬̮̬̟̠̫͐w̴̟̪͎̼̦͎̹̜̥̭̤̼̜̹̏̎̀̂ͅ ̵̗̺̺̝̓͒̔͌͆̔̇͠i̶̡̛̠͙̜̬͎̝̅͆͒̍̐̋͋͆͗̎̓̍͝n̵̙͓̠̍̒͗̎̿͊̚ ̵̺̞̫̈́̃̀̐̒̋̍̋́͝h̸̛̖̣̦̯̮̏̓̑̀́͛́͘͝͝ę̶̨̩̫͍̘̤̝̮͖̟͕͇̟͛̈́̾̾͘r̷̩̻̤̽͒̌̉͝ ̶͇̱͕̺̳̘̥̘̋̌̈́͗v̷͉̹̗̺̠̋̏i̷̛̖̇̈̌͛̉̒͆̿̽͂s̸̡̬̩̖͍̹͓̠̄̽̂͊̀͋̓͋̔̃į̵̫̼̮̯̯̦̰͔̙̤̟͊̐̈́̃̏̃͝ồ̵̢̨̳͇̯̆̄̃n̴̡̩͓̲̭̗̫̩̹̯̯̥̈́͋.̸̡͈͈̬̭̺͚̥͔̬̥̥͕̭̲͊ ̷̺̖͕͎̥̜̗̠̬͈̖̺̹̝̈́̀̉͑̄̌͜͝Ṭ̴̱͖̋́̽̓ȟ̵̨̨̧̗͚̤̩̲̐͆͐̉̅̾͐̄̄̓̚ỉ̶͖́͒̿̋͛̈́̋̿̎̇ş̷̡̛͍̖̠͙̞̭̜̯̣̣̓͐̚͠ ̵̦͈̱̪̳͗͂̈́̆̎͜ẅ̵̧̡͔̥̯̻͓̌̓̑̓̍̒̌̆̾o̸͇͈͍͈̝̥̟͔͗̽͜u̷̧̮̖̲̬̼͙͕̳͋̏̃̾̃̑͌̋̃̐͠l̸̨͉̤̟̟̬̝̬͍̼̊̈́̆̍̾͂̽͐̓̆͂̀̚̕͜ͅd̴̡̡̨͍͈̞̦̾̌̑̾̓̄͗̾͜ ̸̡̡͍͎̜̯͇̜̏̽̓͋͝r̴̺͔͇̄͗̍͑̕̕e̷͇̣̱̘͑̆̆̚q̶̨̧̣̹̣̭͕̬̻̮̳̙̭̾͗́̈͝ǘ̷̡̢̼͙̘̥͎̂̄͂͊ͅi̸̛̛̙̤̪͆̾̈́̆̐͆̑̊̌̉̕̕r̵͈̗̓̍̐̔̀͑̾̽͐̾̓̑͘͝ę̶̨̛̮̝̝͔͍̞͖̺̼̼͚̗̓̾̽̂͐̐͑́̾̈̊̽͊͝ ̵̣̖͐̉͌̏̈́̔̑̔͘̕͠s̸̘͓̱̺̏̾́͂̋̊̏̊̃̓̓͘͘͠͝t̴̖̜̀̊̿́̐̎͑͘͝͝͝͝ȩ̴̞̜̝͎͒̏͐̈́̎́̾͋̚͠ͅạ̷̧̡̡̼̦̳̠̣̃̈́͜l̵̢̗̰͉̣͎͍̟̗͕̳̈̓̒͊͘͜͝ţ̵̨͈͕̬̜̗͓̟̲̦́̆̀̓͌̈́̏̊͋̆́̂̚͜͝͝ͅh̷̢͖̱̯̬̝̥̟͍͔͖̱́͜ ̵̗̄̅͗͒͑̒ã̸͚̻̀́̍͜͝n̵̡̖̫͉̗̟̥̜̪̟͍͈̞̓͛̆̅͆̏̽̎̆̇̄̈́͐d̵̨̨̨̡̺̻̱͕͕̊̎͛̉͐̊̍̽ͅ ̶̢̖̻̙̮̦̝͙̥̗͌̑̿̂̊́̌̐͗͆̂̽̆͘p̸̡̬̠̟͓͚̟̄̌͂͗̍̑͋̏͘̕̕r̸͍̞̠̝̥̘̦̰̯̗͎̖̐͗͌̆͊̽̆͂̀͘͜͝͝ë̵̪̐̑̄͑̉̊̿́̀̄̂͒c̸͇̲͕̦̜͈̙͊̏̒͋͜i̴̖͘s̶̞͉̫̹̱͖͍̝̬̼̘̟͉̙͒̽̀͂̑͊͊͝ȉ̸̡̹̠͒͒̀̌̓̌͒͐̅́̄͜͝ǫ̴̧̮̍n̵̬̈́.̵̨͎̯̬͙̳̠̪͍͗̍̕͝
̶̨̡̛̩̲͙̫͓̼͓̙̈́̀̂̐̓̀͂̔̊͂̐̕͠
̶̤̥͇͙̖̱̻̝̜͌͐̿̅͘͘ͅ"̴̟̊̀͛͌̆I̴͈̙̰̖̟͖̩͈̞̳̞̙̊͊̓ ̵̢̰̖̓́͑̓̒̈́̂̿̍̂̋͠͝t̸̬̖̙͙̏͒̌̒̍̏̔̈́̾͛̉̕ḧ̶̛̙́͛͛̅̅̾̊͊̚͝͠͝ì̵̢̢̢̛̲̘͙̙̘̼̦̗̻͕͖́̀͆̾̋̾̿̉͝n̷͚̙̥͖̰͓̱̜̎͛͗̈̍͒̓͒̏̐̕̚͜k̸̻̙̪̟̪͈̤̮̙̜̔́̌̒̂͂̉͝ ̷̨̛̪̲̜̻̫̪͖̪͙͓̗͚̽͂́͋̀̾͋̉͜͝͠ͅő̸̻̩̜̟͐̓̍ú̷̧̲̲̞̞̩̘͙͕̝͍̝̲̟̔ṟ̴̡̤̤̙̟̻̘͂̄̀ ̸̡̡̞̬̯̜͇̜͕̈́̈̇̅́͂͌̔̇͝͠ḅ̶̛̽̅̈́̎́̉̍̈́̓̉͝ẹ̵͙̝͔̻̗̥͍̦́̓̓̃̽̀͘s̶̨̹̪̜̣̹̰̫͇̾́̓̎̅̄̂͊͒̕̕t̷͎͇͖́̽͂͜ ̸͇̟͎͚͚̺̺̲̂̌̊̐͌̍̓͑̌̀͆̌͗̔̚b̴̡̢̬͕̪͊̆̒́̒̈́͘͜͝͠ẹ̸͚̳̩̘̥̹͔̋̽̂͑̎̄̿̃̒͠t̷̨̤̜̪̥͔̺̘͇̽̈́͜ ̶̛͉̮̤͓͈̻̫̗̒̒̆̂̾̒̾͌̂̽͛̽̕͜͜i̶͎̙̪̠͗̌̆̎́̒̐̆̐͑͑͘̚̕͝ͅs̷͓͔̭̪̬͍͈̪̲̫̳̺̄͋̆̈̓͐̓̾̅̍̾̑́͠ ̵̢̡̲̠̜̭͚̹̣͒̒̓̄͐̿̌̾̇̎͒̃ͅt̶̢̜͚̘͔̱̐͗ỡ̴̮͕̹̠͍͚̦̣͓̈́͒̊͜͠ ̷̨̧̢̛͇̼̪̗͉͖̥͒̔̊́̋̓͂̐͜͜͠ͅm̸̘̂͒̉̆͌͌͐̈́͋̾̇̔̀̔͌á̸̡̨̡͔̤̮̳̘̰͇̘̲̟̘̞̎̅k̵̨̛̼̝̮̮̮̠̭͙̬̺̱̃̽̇̎̒͂̋̒͆́̇͘ͅẻ̸̛̫͉̟͚̫̥̠̯͉̤̓̊̈́̅̀̒̑̀͝ͅ ̶̧̛̲̹̉̄̃́̓̽͆̑͐̈́̈́͆̍̉ţ̷̡̮͈͕̫̙̞̓̈̾͜h̴̞̭͈͍̻͖͍̺̊̉̔ͅį̵̨̟͙̗̟̤̯̞̱͔̑ͅs̷͉͚̮̬͓̊͋̿̂͝ ̷̨͇̟̱͕̠̗̋̈́̉̒̽͑͌̀͋̈́̊̇͜͠ͅa̵̡͎̦̖̺͌̌͑ ̴͕̫͓͎͖̲͖͕̥̣͙͓̞̥̏̆̍̒͛̾̑̉ṣ̶̨̛̻̜̙͖̑̇͆̃̊͌͘̚n̴̻͙͛́̓̀̊̌̈́́̄́͆̔̏͝à̴̛̛͔̤̲̺̬̥̽́̔̅̈́͛̓̆͂̒͝t̴̗͉͑̉̓̈̈́̑͋̄͑̍͆̒͌̕̕c̴̠͊̏̄̈́̍̎̄̇̓̈̀̉̕h̶̘͚͍̞̯̾ ̵̼̻̲͉̐͂̿̍̅̚̚͠͝å̶̢͈̪̞͕͇̒͗̈́̓͜n̸͉̂̈́́̈̄̊̅́̔̕͘͝͝d̵̳̜̻̫͇͌͑̒̌͜ ̵̛̟̻̲̪̘̠̟͚͈̓̂̅̈̎̇̑g̷̨̪̜̱͚͖̜͇͚̲̥̙̮͓̋͛̄̔̀̆̑̈́̏̚͝r̴̡̝̟̠͔͙̥̭̹̊̄̍͂̄͂̋̀̕͘͝a̶̧͇͒͌̈́̐̿ḅ̵̧̛̦̲̬̰̰́̎͑̀́͗͒̆̌̈́͘̕͝.̸̡̨̛̦̻̫͔̻͍͈̯̏͒̃͌̇̿̈́̂̔̚͠͝͠͝ ̵̡̢̙̫͈̪̦͇̙̦̀̒̈́̈́͛͑͒̚͝G̷̡̹̲̻̜̗̫̯̹̜̪̠͕͐̌̉͗̽̽ͅͅe̸̡̢̜̠̬̦̽̓̑̈́̾͂̐͠ẗ̸͖̮́̆̄͠ ̵̨͔̠̻̫̰̞̺̬̖̟̤̹̱͘i̴̡̢̳̤̳͉̺͇̥̼̘̘͔̿̆̏̒͋̏̃̈́͠ͅň̵̢̘̈͛̅̍̓̋ ̷̡̢̨̢̝̠̹͓̺̪̳̫̣͗̂̍̇̒a̸̧͛͊̾͛̌͂͋̿̊ṉ̵̢̧̯̬͔̯͛̏͐͑d̶̢͚̟̫̭̠̥̱̺̩̲̘̯̼̪̐̆̀̾̇͝ ̵̼̻͚͔͉̲̣̈́̒͊͝͠n̶̮͈̥̘͕̫͈̹̩̻̲̱̯͙̓́̅͂̓̽ȇ̴̡̢̛̝͕̳̩͍͓̞̍̎̓̈͒̚ͅͅu̷̢̹͖̠̼̟̗̙͐̈́́̃͛ẗ̴̠̠̘͓̊̍͌͐̓̂͋̾͋̒̇̄̓́͜r̷̨̛͔͉̳͚̙͉̋̂̋̀̆́̇̈́́̒͠ͅā̴̛̭͚̣̭͑̏̑̾̊̅̔̓͆̚͘͝͝l̴͓̝̖͉̺͔͖͊̀̎̂͋̔͆̆̕͠͠i̷̡̡̡̘̖͍͔̝̬̭̠̥͇̞͌̄͝ẕ̵̡͍̰͎̘̓͋͌̈́̓̓̍͛͛e̶̪̣͙̹͖͇͚͜͜͠ ̷̫̹͎̻̗̘͙̠̭̦̏̈́̊̀͑̋̉̽͛̽̒͘̚͜a̷̧̨̛̦̫̋̈́͂̑́͝s̶̨̧̛͉̝̹̯͇͇̒̓̂̔̿̉̈͒̿͆̽̿̍͝ ̶̧̪̫͚̽̈́m̷̢͚̩͔̜̟̈̈́̔̀̈́͑ą̸̗͙̺̬̲̟̪̭͉̺̼͒͂͗̓̄̐̄n̸̡̧̨͓̲̖̞͔̺̲͚͍͍̜̻̾̐́̈́̏͗̃̔̈͌̀͘̚͝y̷̨̨͈͓͓̫̻̝̦̬̝̗̌̒͑̃͑̅̈̈͠ͅ ̸̪̖̿̄̄͌̑͌͒͑̃t̴̢̥̝̥̫̦͈̿͌̋̆̒͂̈́̊͂͐̈́͂̉̑͝h̸̡̞̻̮̻̲̰͖̔̄̎̈́̒̉̀̓̎̀̎͋͝a̶̗̝̗̘̰̙͎͍͓̤̱̿͑̅̽͘ṱ̷̤͉̠̥̙̊̿́̚͠ ̵̘̯̟͑̓́́͊̅͆̑̄̾͗s̶̛̠͈̟̫͍̮̟̩̫̜̯͚͔͜t̶̡̙̭̰̫̠̼̘̠̰͋̌͑̎̒̓͝ą̴͕͉̙̭̬͍͖́̅̅̓͂͗̍̊͒̃̽̽̚͝n̵̨͇͕̭̳̱͕̄ͅḍ̵̨̟̫̬̲̰̹̄͌͒͐̏͊̊͒́̚ͅ ̶̧̮̱͓͍̰͓̪̳̟̞͔̊̇̀́͌̏i̷̪̗̹͉̳̗̅͐̾͆͗́̔͌̌̑͑͝n̸̡̹͎͉̣̣̜̮̤͎̲̗̣̼͌́̿̋̂ ̵̧̗̜̮̖̣͉̩̟̟̭̫̗̍̀̆͋̊̅͛̾̈̊̚ͅǫ̴͖̙̭̆̏̾͆̈́͂͛̽̃̂̓̚͠ų̸̧̥̻̻̘̭̞͉͔̗̙̹̽̀͒̏̔͊̐͠r̵̢̪̎̽̔̋̃̂̈́̑̂̕̚ ̴̡̪͖̠̹͉̃̾̎̚ẁ̴̢̛̖̩̥͙̞̤̯̩̫̗͍̤̎̀̈́̽̔̾̄̈́̿ä̷̙̼́̔͛̈́͝y̶̨̨̹̹̱̘͈͍͐͐́͋̅̑̎͜͝,̷̡̳͚̺͎̪͙̫͎̣̳͇̦̂̃̂̉̈̄́̏̍̄̀̍̆͘ͅ ̷̱̮̲̟̼̻̏̾̃̔̆a̷͎̞͓̰̜̮̪͚̥͉̩̣̼͊͛̃͋͑͐n̴̜͇̥̄̈́̋̑͑̽̍̅̇͗̽͋͑͑̚d̴̩̭̣͍̿̀̊̒̔̒̃̏̌̎͊ ̷̢̞̫̞̔̅̉̂͑͐̊͑̈̒̎t̸͉̠̰̳͖̍͒̍̂̈̑̐̿́̆̚h̸̨̨͚͈̮̟͙̘̺͎̳̺̝̋͝e̵̥͛͐̐͌̆͊͛͠n̵̨̨̛͎̤̹̮̘̯͎̱̯̝̼͎͎̑͐͆̃͆͆ ̸̠̲͓̰̒̆͒̑̆̃̐̃l̴͔͖̮̠̻̅͐̿͐̄̈̽̃̃͊̾̋̐͝ê̷̱̥̯̼̗̻̆̾̔̾̓̀͝ṫ̵̡͍͈͚̖̬̙͚̹̲͍̜͐̾͜ ̸̛͉̳̙̞̰͔̘̳͈̦̫͉͖̪̐ͅm̵̨͈͈̘̱̠̪̬̬̭̑̀͘͜ë̷̩̣͙̠͔̩͉̣̭̰̝͊͊̂̎̂̃̀́̏͗͝ ̷̡̖̜̝̱̘̣͐̔̌̍̐͐̈̀̽͘͜͜͠͠ͅg̶̡̫̰̲̲̱̤̍̅̃̌̔̿̓͂͝͝r̸̢̨̛̤̞̻̠̣̼̅̊̏́̊̅̀̓̍̓̚̕͜ą̷͎̭͎͈̼̪̳̰̫̩̎̐̆̈́̌̇͌͋̔̇͌̏͆̕͝b̴͎̣̺͖̝͔̰̘̲̠͎̅͌́̉͗̒͊͗͘͝͝ ̸̢̢̡͇̭̪͔̙͚͉̓̎̋̚̕͜D̷̛̳͚̞̜͙̗̝̃̀̾͆͗͂̌̀̃̅͘͝a̶̖̻̱̙̓͂̓̆̒͛̚x̶̱̮̯͓̤͊́̀͗̐͌̀̌̂̔̚.̸̧̛̦̘̘͙͓̼͎̩͈̹̫̟̌̆̔̌̊̆̕͝ͅ ̶̢͔̝̟͎̠̩͖̥̩͙͈͉̞̏̋̈́̍̋͑̀̏̆̕̕͝W̶̢̯͓̹̪͎̮̠̺͙͖̤͕̉e̷̯̞̗̠̟̘͕̯̺̭̤͙̖̔̽̾̒̈́̑̕̕ ̸͕̘̤̤̩͉͗͋̏̔́͒͌̑̊̚̕g̷̛͕̍̾̍̂͌̋̽̂̓̌͛̄̕e̴͓͈̱͕̞̔̅͆̚t̵͔̝͍͉̏̓̈̑͆̒̒͘ ̵̡̧̢̠̟̳̪̹̞̮̂͋̃́̈́̓i̸̹̹̼̝̦͓̯͍͎̘̼͙̣̒̌̍̋̾̓͐̈́̓͝ͅn̴̛̥͈̲̲̪̻̓̇̓͆̋̔͗͂̀͆͘̚͘͝ ̶̺̳̳̞̬̘̬̘̥͇̘̼̞͎̿͊͋̈́̅̋̏̓̔͗̚͘̚͘q̷̟͈͔͓̟͎̯̞̣͉̙͆̍̋̈̏̈̓̋̀̔̓͆͘͝͝ú̷̯͓̺͔̞̘̫̿ͅį̷̧̱̯̤̐̑̈́̍e̴̳̐̎̇̈́̆̒͋̀̎͛̌̕͘̕t̵̻̪͚̓́̒̐͒̄́́͒̀̍͐̅̾͋,̵̩̲̱̻͔̍̔̈́͂́̆̔͗͌̕ ̶̛̣͓͖͕̌̈́͆̀̊̀̇͒̕̕h̵̡̨̥̤̗̩̣͙̗͈̑͒o̸̘̩̤̪̪̦̱͖̮̟̖̣͈͒p̸̢̛̛̠̘͒͌̈͋͛̀̍͌̏ę̴̛̯̤̜̹̥̉̔̽͂̾̂͒̌͒̎͊͘͝͝f̴̢̢̢̬̃́̀̃̌̄́̕û̵̢̫̪̩͖̹͎̦̝͎́̓͆́̌̚͠ĺ̵͕̣̃̐̽l̴̛̦͚̇̐̊̃̎̅̕͠͝͝͠͠y̴̡̨̢̪̦̺̤̙̪̮͎͈̣̅̋̑́̂͌͊̈̽̈̚ͅ ̴̺͕͔̼̣̼͛̈́̀́̊̈͋͝w̵̢̝͖̼̺̬̰͉̺̦̣̦̦̯͌̀͗͝ę̷̬͈͎̦͑͐̂̔̈͜ ̷̰̳̳͙͈̟͕̲̠̻̏g̴̫̈́̄̈́̂͋̄͘̚ȩ̷̝̳͛̈́̋͗́̚t̷̢̢̠͕͎̝̍͊͆̚͝͠ ̵̛̗͚͙̻͕̥̗̤̩̦̌̅̅͛̉̽͐̿̓̈́͒̽͊́͜͜o̴͓̳̳̥̺̓̾̇̅̍̔͑̔u̵̱͇̱͍̫̹̤̫͉͙̞̣͍͔͜͝t̶̥̳̅̊͒̋͒̀̂̇̓̈́̾̈́͝͠ ̶̢̡̦͕͍͎̫͈̜̺̬̯̇̄͂́͊̈́͊͆͛͛̚̕ͅͅq̷̢̡̱̬̟̰̟̪̩̖͙̗̓͜u̷̹̼̻̯͋͋̉̈̓̓͜i̸̛̺̰̖̰̼͍͕̅͗̀̆̀̏̓e̸̡̙̰̖̟̾̋̈́͑̎̔̈͒̉́ẗ̵̨̻̩̤̠́͋̇͊̂̓͠.̴̢̳̟͊ ̷̛̫̤͈̪̤̞̝̮͉͙̓̈́̀̋̈́͋ͅI̴̢̳̯̟͍͚̫͍̭̝̘̯̊̈́̏͛̀̚͠f̵̩͚̗̣̬̬̤̲͖̩̽̇̀̌̍͛̿̓̚͝͠͠ͅ ̶̢̡͍̞͓̳͍̹͖̺̳̰̊͋̋͋͜ţ̶̖̣̻̭̫̙̘̲̟͉̘̓̇̔̕ͅh̸̼̙̻̠̠̮̟̃̇̃̊͂̽͜͜a̸̼̰̔͑͒͌͌ţ̶̮̔͊͆͂̋̇ ̴̨̧̜̭̺͍̲͙̺͍̈̓̒̑̅͂̓͋̂͗͝ď̸̛̪̱̖͍̊̓́̌̃̽o̴̧̞̮̘͋̈́́̋̆͒̽̏̒̾͆̕ę̴̨̣͙̝͓͎̰͈͙̭̻̎̊̽̇̅s̷̪͕͔̞̦̜͓̓̍͋͗́̀̔͒͛̌̐̎͐̚n̸̬̱̱̈̌̍̒̀'̶̢̗͔̲̪̽̒̈́͑̐̐́̉̉̇͑͘͝͝t̷̞͓̹̩̺̗̻͆͘͠ͅ ̸̲̮̤̤̯̳̺͚̬̹̩͉̋̐͐̅̊͋̇̇́̚̕͝͝w̸̛͍̮̲̪̜̱̖̋͛̉̇̂͐͒̚͠o̸͖̓̓̀̂͛͠r̴̛͉̹̤̆́̀̈́̀̇͠k̸̲̲͖̬̋͂̆̈́̈̉̉̚ ̸̢̧͎͚͕̄̿̂̆́̚͜w̴̗͉͕͈̙̑͊̾̂͝ė̸̡̲̰̼̩̗̫͙̹̜̭͔̝̲̰̈́͆̽̍̉̑͐̈́̔̀̇̽̎͝ ̶͉͑́͒͌̓́͘͝m̶̯̩̦͇̹͚̩̦̯̗̟͇̈́͌̓̊͝i̶̙̇̽g̴̢͎̹̲̱̯̘̤̞̤̖͚̞͛͑̏͐̌͊͆̐ͅḩ̸̢̢͙̯̦͉̇̉͌̑̈̆̚̚͜t̶̡̢̢͖̩͖̠̱̦̊̐̅̑͆̅̏͠ ̷̛̛̭̯̩̞̯̬̭͔̪̩̪̮̻́̓͋̉̆͛͛̑̔̎̊̕̚ͅn̴̹̱͓͖͖̋͗̔̾̋̌ȩ̸̡̙̜͍͈̞͓̲͎̏̅͊̇͋͜͜͜͠ę̴̨̣͔̲͕͍͙͎̠͙̳̞̔̅̋͆̈́͆̅̽̆̆̚͝d̴̛̩͇̔̑̇̈́͐̈́́̄̓̑͊̿̀͠ͅ ̸̺̦̆́͂̅̈́͑̓͛̐̓̎̀̕͠ḁ̸̤͉͕͍̰͉̭̾̔̐̌͌̐͐̇̈̉̈́͗͐͜͝ ̸̼̜͚̜͐̐̄̊͊̑̃̀͗̚d̴̢̤͙̟̬̱̎̋̚ḭ̸̡̡̡̗̻͚̻̮̝͓̼̲̯̒̉̈͆̉͜v̶̡͔̼̙̺̟̮̥̪͓̼̠̀̐̾̿͐͑̊̋̇̈́͛͘ͅe̵̥̥̗͈̦̚͝ṛ̴̢̡̨̧̨̝̲̱͚͍͖͗͂͂̾͘ś̴̨̛̥̭̘̋̎̚i̴̳̱̥̭͂́ͅo̷͍̰͚̺̳̙̘̥̒̾̉̈͌̇̐͠n̵̳͖̲̺̣͎͙̎́̉͐̐͆̈̊͜ͅ ̷̨̧̨̨̛͇̣͇̰̟̘̱̜̮̤̫̔͒̇ş̸̻̦̏͗̒̉́̽͑̏̐́ǫ̸̢̧̙͖͙͚̹̘̇̓̒͗̒͆͊̌͊̃̈́̇͐̿ ̸̢͎̲͎͌̈́̕I̵̛͖̮̖̙̅̆ ̶̨̩̪̝̫̪̜͑̇̌̍̆͊̏͒c̶̛͓͈͙̼̰̖͙͊͛̀̒̊̓̅̄̽͆͋̾͌̕â̷̢̭̮̤̘͉̪̍̔̉̋̋̏̊̉ṋ̶̏̒͊̉̉͌̚̚͘͘͜ ̴̝̃̍͆̓̋͘g̷̞̻̮̤̲͔̪̝̗̖͉̰̻̿̈̓̌͋̒̓͌̉̈́̀̕͠r̴͔̯͕̣̭̘͒͛͒a̸̛͕͊̓̎b̷̳̹̝͍̫̭͔̱̳̏̽̏ ̵̧̝̖̼̞̟̥͙̫͉͕̳̥̎̄̄̄̀̅͒̃͋̅ḧ̶̡̢͔̮͔̜̗̘͚̰͎͚̮́̄́̊͐̌̈́́̽̂̄͋͑͊į̷̦͚̮̘̭̩̫͚̯̻̝͗̇̅͐̌̿͋̒̾̊͒̈̿͠m̵̺͕̾͋.̶̢̡̨̡͕̦̗͙͈̬̹̞͔̠͛̀̓͂͗͌̂͐͌̐͗̇͘͝"̸̺͚̙̟̩̃̈́̋̔̍̀̔͗̎̕͠
̵͉̗̦̯̖̯̜̣̰͚̠̤͉͙̗̍̽̏̉̕
̷̢̢̧̢͍̙͍̻̻̥̞̪̀̌̈́͝

 

[Jonyna Si]

TAGS: Katarine Ryiah Rath Nihro​

As Jonyna walked towards the meeting room, a familiar feeling washed over her. She expected to see some familiar faces, but Kat's face was unexpected. Not that she didn't welcome it. She needed someone like her in these dark times.

"Well there's a sight for sore eyes." Jonyna chuckled, walking over. Even now, in the era of darkness, Jonyna still have that soft giggle that lit up a room. "Hey Kat. Where you been?"

Ever casual, her ears did wander still. A soft breeze ran through the hall, shifting towards Rath. The silent one sitting in the room, waiting for the proceedings to start. A troubled soul, or an introvert. Jonyna couldn't tell yet.

What she could tell though, was that he was eager to be here. Eager to find allies. Find his place. A loner wouldn't have traveled here if he wasn't.

She wondered if she could connect with him. Find another like herself to join her order. A Bokken.

 

[Braze]

​

Braze arrived and slipped into the meeting chambers, pale eyes drifting across the room as he tried to see who he might recognize. His steps were almost hesitant, the way someone walks into a place they are not entirely sure they belong. He wasn't convinced he would be welcome here, but the host's Charges had not turned him away, so he forced himself to keep going.

He spotted familiar faces. Jonyna Si and Casaana. Relief softened his shoulders for a heartbeat.

"Good to see you again," he offered to Jonyna, managing a small nod.

The moment the words left his mouth, he caught sight of a tea station. Perfect excuse to move. He beelined toward it with a touch too much eagerness, hands fidgeting with the edge of his sleeve. He poured himself a cup, hoping the simple motions might steady the jitter in his chest. The steam curled upward and he breathed it in.

Still, he didn't sit. Instead, he drifted to one of the walls, claiming a quiet stretch of space like a shield. He leaned there with his cup held a bit too tightly, eyes scanning the room to see who else might arrive. His posture looked relaxed at a glance, but the way his fingers tapped against the ceramic betrayed the nerves he was trying very hard not to show. He offered a shifting glance to Fahlv Vehnek and offered a weak smile holding up his cup in a simple 'cheers' motion towards her before taking a sip.

 

[Matthew of Valendale]

​

Matthew stood by the wide curve of the panoramic window, watching as individuals slowly filtered into the round meeting chamber. The space had been crafted for dignitaries, all soft lights and subtle ornamentation, a place meant to lower defenses and invite conversation. Outside, the yacht drifted in a gentle orbit, and a pale moon hung just beyond the glass, its glow spilling across the gold inlays of the floor.

He wore white and gold patterned after temple guard regalia, the design chosen with intent. It conveyed authority without threat, formality without coldness. As host, he had seen to every detail, including the presence of his retinue stationed discreetly around the chamber. They were prepared for trouble, though their purpose was more to reassure the guests than to enforce anything.

Matthew remained mostly silent, only trading a few quiet words with Tirin as he observed each new arrival. The gathering was meant to be welcoming, and he allowed ample time for everyone to settle before the real conversation began.

Soon enough, he knew Tirin would ask if anyone wished to speak about the trials they had faced, or the projects and initiatives they had begun since their last meeting. Judging by the gentle hum of voices and the easing of shoulders around the room, many seemed eager to see one another again in a place where calm finally had space to breathe.

Briefly, he found himself wondering what had become of members such as Valery Noble and Kahlil Noble , and whether they might appear at a gathering like this. It was a small impromptu event, and brought about unhurried, yet it was the sort of space where familiar faces sometimes chose to resurface. The thought lingered only a moment before he turned his attention back to the arrivals already here.

 

[Fahlv Vehnek]

Braze Matthew of Valendale

OOC: Frickin' COOL OC and species, Matthew - I LOVE what you've done with all of that lore!

The dark-furred fox alien eagerly dug into that earthy, soft and warm Gloomroot, occasionally casting a glance over the meeting room's other occupants; an ear would twitch every-so-often as she caught the gentle words of a conversation or two of interest, but the eccentric and lone Padawan needed energy if she was to participate in properly listening to the grander affairs of this meeting. Out of the corner of her copper eyes, of course, she kept a constant watch over her sword and its sheath. Her gaze wandered to and fro even as more people began to make their way into this conference.

The white-and-gold robes of one Matthew of Valendale caught her curious gaze, and she was... A little unfamiliar with the details of such intricate and wondrous regalia, but she admired the articles for a moment or two, perhaps looking like a fool, as she had stopped chewing a mouthful of buttered vegetable to do so. She swallowed after a little more chewing and then noticed a stranger meeting her eyes. She met young Braze 's eyes with a toothy grin of vegetable matter over faintly yellow teeth, over which a bizarre, flat midnight blue tongue shifted to clean them (somewhat) while she raised a hand to wave with slight shyness as he raised a cup to her!

Setting aside her meal utensils, her hands raised and began to move as the dark Amaran signed to him. [May we gain much wisdom and resolve from this meeting.] She wasn't sure whether he could understand or not, but she kept going anyway. [The Order is facing dire peril, after all.]

 

[Matsu Ike]

Matthew of Valendale Braze Jonyna Si Katarine Ryiah Fahlv Vehnek Rath Nihro Casaana Tirin Raene

Her attention went around the room as more people came in and the voice of the girl came. A smile as she bowed her head. "Just a moment ago. It is good to see you padawan." She offered a small smile and held a hand out as the air shifted forming crystallized orbs for a moment before a sheath of celluloid formed around it that rested in her hand. "Some Force Candy?" She said it offering the small edible kyberite crystals. "They just pop on your tongue." She said it while offering a small grin before she was floating a little to find a place to sit with a small bow of her head towards others. There were a lot of people... she had no idea whom they were but jedi were jedi even if they were an unknown element.

"So many people I have never seen, the Silvers may need to start looking back towards the galaxy again beyond temple repair." She said it and looking at Casaana though she took in the sights of the room she she could get a better idea. "Do you know who any of these people are?" She was curious but the Silver Jedi were always around to offer supplies... and food. She might be able to learn a few things about research orr force endeavors they could look into.

 

[Aliris Tremiru]

She was a Jedi.

That hadn't changed, hadn't faded. Aliris kept to the side, kept her eyes moving. Watching and listening. Her gaze briefly settled on Tirin Raene as she gave him a respectful bow of her head. He'd been the one helping her to even be able to walk this path. Strength had returned, some, in her body. She wasn't the fighter she had been, but she could at least hold her own.

That she didn't need to stay hiding on Lothal.

Maybe here she'd at least find something else she could do to help.

 

[Jace Rhane]

​

I AM ONE WITH THE FORCE, AND THE FORCE IS WITH ME​

Jace, had seen this sort of song and dance before. And in less than ideal circumstances, although, with the dissolution and failure of the Alliance- it felt more desperate. Despite the hopeful nature of the room, the Knight was less than idealistic than some of his counterparts. He saw many representatives of many orders. While no open hostilities or perhaps even bad blood existed among sects of the Jedi, he could not feel the weight realizing how disjointed they all were.

This order here, this order there. Even he, was subject to the whims of the actions and machinations of the enemy. The Republic was in better straits than the Alliance presently, and with Master Noble vanishing into the wind- well. Perhaps he was a cynic, or just more of a realist than those gathered. That, and the people they needed on their side were so splintered and inside small sects of Jedi- ultimately, he felt the Jedi were weaker as of late. Their enemy gathered strength, reconciled old wounds and new ones appeared. The Black Sun, the Galactic Empire, The Diarchy, even the Mandalorian Empire, resurgent in their resolve to support the Sith.

So, it worried Jace when there was a lack of cohesion. So this-

Was nice to be at. It alleviated some fears that there was some animosity between Jedi, and provided some much needed relief from worry. Jace, unlike some of the Jedi gathered, wore traditional Jedi robes- though the armored vambraces made it apparent that Jace was still prepared for a fight or a strike at any time. Jace, could not bring himself to relax quite yet. Despite his many meditations, the meeting made him anxious, restless. He was giddy with excitement and hope for the first time in quite a while, and it caused him to pace quite a bit.

Jace looked around the room, taking stock of who was there- and sadly, who was not there. And it seemed that there were far more that were not there, than who were. The thought made him take a hitched breath- wondering of the safety of his comrades in arms and fellow Jedi. Many had fallen on Coruscant, Atrisia, and elsewhere-

He hoped that many more would show up or at least be accounted for. For the time being, however...

He could not completely stifle his worries. He was but a man, after all.

 

[Casaana]

"Oh! Thank you!" Eyes wide at such a display of power and complexity beyond most of what she'd ever been taught or seen, save in the most dire of life or death circumstances from Jedi Masters or ritualistic castings, Casaana took the candy and pocketed it to look forward to later. "I know most of them by reputation, Braze is a friend," she said slowly turning around and taking in what she could see of those gathered. Her eyes alighted on Aliris and Fahlv, and she hoped to meet and be their friend too. Perhaps after today's meeting. "Other than him and you, not really, I've met our host, but I wouldn't say I really know Master Raene. If you'll excuse me, I think it's time, Master Ike." Looking around again, the Padawan took a deep breath and nodded to Matsu before heading back to the round table.

((Speach for Everyone))
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~​

Running through a calming exercise as she walked to the table, she found her chair and climbed onto it after setting down her tea, standing on the seat to raise her head level with most of the gathered adults. She had the heavy responsibility of starting the more official part of today's gathering, meaning she had to face the terrifying task of public speaking. It was supposed to be symbolic of everyone present having a voice that could be heard, having a Padawan start things off. Raising her arms, she called out, "Everyone, your attention please!" She folded her hands behind her waist as conversations drifted to a halt and peopled stilled before speaking out in a calm, if elevated, voice. "First, on behalf of our host, I'd like to thank you for coming. Many of our number are troubled by the recent dissolution of the Alliance, the dimming of its light, and the potential for darkness to encroach. We wonder at the state of the many Jedi orders and the obligations they strive to uphold. At the same time, every one of us holds an ideal of what the Jedi are, or a belief of what we should be.

"I was a youngling in the Silver Jedi temple on Kasyyyk, became a Padawan and made pilgrimage to Ilum in the New Jedi Order of the Galactic Alliance. Currently, I base out of the Kattada Enclave and am enrolled with the Jedi Order on Naboo. I've fought Sith, Empire, pirates, and foul creatures almost since I took up my lightsaber. Looking into the crowd, I see Jedi with pasts just as turbulent. Whether cast about by the tides of time, outcast for disagreeing with doctrine, or simply feeling like they never fit anywhere. I see Jedi long exhausted with the warring, hearts heavy from endless conflict and the loss of friends. Some present are dissatisfied with the politicization of the Light Side, more interested in matters of galactic importance and government, that it interferes with the concern for individual beings.

"Such is the purpose of this convocation. To voice our concerns and ideals, take the pulse of the community. And perhaps, build connections among ourselves to elevate us to be more than we are currently. If anyone has words they'd wish to share with those gathered here, I'll now yield the floor."

Matthew of Valendale Braze Jonyna Si Katarine Ryiah Fahlv Vehnek Rath Nihro Tirin Raene
Matsu Ike Aliris Tremiru Jace Rhane
​

 

[Fahlv Vehnek]

Matthew of Valendale Braze Jonyna Si Katarine Ryiah Rath Nihro Tirin Raene Matsu Ike Aliris Tremiru Jace Rhane Casaana

Fahlv was curiously watching her fellows and softly listening in, even as she was using the Force (even despite Master Keeral's harsh, grumpy gaze a few seats down and across from her) to levitate her food dish away, towards a servant with a waiting tray, giving him a thumbs-up with her free hand as she did so. She WAS making the job easier for him, after all. Releasing the tray to the attendant, she turned in time to hear and take in the young girl, one Casaana 's, speech, even as she was rather haphazardly seated, with her tail draped across her lap and one ankle folded over its twin as she kicked her clawed feet restlessly to and fro, like a toddler in a chair too big for her.

A finger played over a forelock of her short-cut and unkempt hair as she listened to the speech of the girl, one of the few here that was actually younger than she herself. Community was a strange thing to emphasize, and, to Falhv, the concept was amorphous at best, and always temporary even for those who believed in it, but... Sometimes, it was good that she was a creature who was capable of keeping her thoughts to herself. In her heart, either you manifested the resolve to believe in morals and truth purely on your own, or else you didn't.

Community just wasn't a thing, in the Amaran's eyes.

However, that didn't mean that she wasn't a servant. As one of many archival assistants, the girl gained a great deal of satisfaction from her small part of helping others with her protocol droid's voice speaking where she could not.

The lithe fox alien leapt to the floor with a swift motion, intent on making her point before anything else! She jogged towards Casaana , waving to catch the girl's attention. Standing before the younger human girl. Standing next to her, the Amaran was still panting, looking down at the floor as her hands began to sign to her.

[Isn't our own belief in the Light all that is needed? One should check his or her own heart separate from all others to see if they are trusting in the Force's will and following its doctrine when no one else is watching. Doesn't that matter more then groups?]

The Amaran raised her copper eyes to meet the girl's own, curious both as to what she and others thought, assuming the girl would relay her idea to their fellows!

 

[Casaana]

The biggest speech of her life given, but reluctant to give up her place of visibility in case there were questions directed her way, Casaana turned where she stood in her chair and drew her cup of tea up into her hand with the Force. She was just soothing her throat when she caught sight of the vulpine padawan Fahlv Vehnek charging and waving at her.

Standing awkwardly on her seat as the other girl peered up at her, Casaana listened to the protocol droid as it translated hand signs for all to hear. She herself was still young and forming her own beliefs, but found herself nodding along. "I agree with some of that." She cautiously continued, "No matter your intent, or if you choose to follow someone else's orders, you'll have to justify the outcomes of your actions to yourself and live with the consequences." She paused here to think and put her own mixed thoughts into words, her only prepared speech having run its course. "But it's also against others that we measure our beliefs and have them challenged. Not to mention the power of teamwork! Groups help us when we're weak, teach and support the less experienced, like myself." She shook her head. "I trust in the Force, and try to let it guide me. But my own heart can be clouded by fears or wants. Others here will know more, but I think seeing past yourself is what truly being a Jedi is about." She shifted, a little embarrassed about speaking of her beliefs in front of all these assembled Masters as if she had some great wisdom. But then, that was what this convocation was about, giving everyone a chance to express themselves.

Matthew of Valendale Braze Jonyna Si Katarine Ryiah Fahlv Vehnek Rath Nihro Tirin Raene
Matsu Ike Aliris Tremiru Jace Rhane​

 

[Matsu Ike]

Aliris Tremiru Jace Rhane Matthew of Valendale Braze Jonyna Si Katarine Ryiah Fahlv Vehnek Rath Nihro Casaana Tirin Raene

There were more people a few as she found her small place. Then listened to the speech for the opening with a nod of her head. She flicked her senses around the room more then her eyes. The one signing a questioon got her attention as she followed and heard a response to it. Individuals were something to have and helped but you needed the group at times for the resources to ensure the training went forward. Easier to teach aand serve the light with a full belly and clothing that wasn't going to tear. She smiled though and offered a small clap. "Oh sharing time." The jedi master remained where she was but spoke with everything able to be heard. "The dangers from Atrisia showed a need for more involvement. I don't know many others here and there is a danger most won't be at the next convocation but the Silver Jedi always have their equipment and ships on offer. We worked on the Solari towers for Atrisia and have finished construction of a xenoforming temple. It will be able to help on worlds."

 

[Jace Rhane]

​

Jace pursed his lips in thought, in response to the many there, the long-winded speeches. It wasn't clear if he was for- or against the notions they were presenting. But one thing did strike him, and he felt compelled to speak.

"In the face of a loss of so many Jedi to combat and to war and infighting, perhaps construction of new temples should not be high on our priority list."