Kyrie Blaze
She didn't speak, the girl did, and continued to speak while asking questions, but the Jedi Master just offered an attentive ear to her for the moment. The girl's words came in quick succession, curiosity pushing them out faster than she could fully organize them, but the Master didn't interrupt. She let the sound of the girl's voice fill the work space outside of the main temple. Where the faint echo of distant training sabers formed a familiar backdrop. She looked at the two Jedi who were there with a small motion of her head, acknowledging their presence without breaking the girl's flow. Both of them stood in partial fittings of formal garments, the fabric pinned and marked in places, waiting for adjustments.
The Master waited until the girl was done for a moment, then calmly stuck the needle in a small cushion beside her. The cushion was worn from years of use, its surface dotted with tiny punctures and colored threads. Only when the girl paused to breathe did the Master finally answer. "Well, how else would you get these wedding dresses?" she said, and looked at the dresses that had been worked on, the two Jedi who were in them standing as still as they could manage. A small smile formed while her fingers deftly moved, drawing another line of thread through the fabric with practiced precision. The needle slid in and out in a steady rhythm, guided by muscle memory more than conscious thought.
She took another needle from the cushion and set the fabric up for the next seam, checking the alignment for a moment before she spoke again. The garments were ceremonial, not traditional in any planetary sense, but adapted to their sensibilities simple, functional, yet respectful of the significance of the event. The grandmasters eyes tracked every movement, from the way the two masters stood while she measured the hem with her thumb to the way she adjusted the fall of the cloth over the slipperss. The Master's focus barely wavered, but it was clear she was aware of every person there. "If there is a lesson to be found in this, it is that one is not above the others."
She said, her tone even, as if she were delivering a standard teaching rather than sewing formalwear. "A Grandmaster is only more experienced, usually older and wiser than another, but I suppose I am also one of the better for domestic duties." She tied off a thread, bit it cleanly, and reached for another spool without looking. "I take care of all the Jedi under me as if they are my own children." She looked up at the two who were standing there, her gaze softening with something like pride. "These two I have known since they were padawans scrapping their knees on the temple floors." One of the Jedi in the dress shifted slightly at that, a faint flush rising to her cheeks, but she didn't protest the description.
The Master's eyes moved to Kyrie, and she motioned to a nearby stool and a clear space on the floor where she could stand or sit. The invitation was casual, but it carried the weight of long habit this was a place where people came to meet the grandmaster instead of in the main halls. "But if it is a display of power you want," the Master added, her eyes returning to the girl with a hint of dry humor, "I could hold you in place with the Force and fill your mouth with the most spicy and sour substances in the universe." The words were delivered in the same calm tone she used for everything else, but the image was vivid enough to make one of the Jedi in the dress huff out a quiet laugh.
The Master's hands never stopped moving, guiding the fabric, adjusting the drape, checking the fall of the sleeves. The Force around her felt steady and contained, like a reservoir held behind carefully maintained barriers. There was no flare of power, no dramatic gesture, just the quiet certainty that if she chose to do exactly what she described, she could. There were a handful of jedi who had actually seen Matsu use her skills... less who had seen her in combat but most agreed she had moved beyond in many cases. The things she often knew, did and ways she acted were beyond what others expected. It was a kindness more than a threat.
She could have made it a threat and manipulated the matter with Art of the Small to make it into anything, to alter the composition of what she placed in someone's mouth or bloodstream, to turn a simple taste into something far more invasive. She did not mention that part aloud. Instead, she let the implication rest in the space between them, trusting the girl to understand that power did not always need to be displayed to be real. Her focus remained barely divided while she watched the girl who seemed curious about it all the dresses, the work, the casual mention of abilities most Jedi never mastered.
The Master's hands continued to work as the faces of the two Jedi in their wedding garments looked to the tools laid out on the nearby table: scissors, chalk, measuring tape, spare fabric, and a small container of pins. Everything was orderly, functional, and clearly used often. Matsu was looking at more of it as she had a smile on her face. "You expected something else," the Master said after a moment, not as a question but as an observation. She adjusted the fall of the skirt on one of the Jedi, then stepped back to assess the overall line. "Crackling ions from the fingertips, perhaps. Stones lifted into the air. A demonstration that would leave scorch marks on the walls."
She moved a hand as she shifted her two masters weight so she could see it and looked up at them with a nod of her head. "Those things have their place," the Master continued, "but most of a Jedi's life is not spent in battle or spectacle. It is spent in service. Sometimes that means negotiations. Sometimes that means teaching. And sometimes" she tugged gently at a seam, satisfied when it settled correctly "it means making sure the people under your care have what they need for the important moments in their lives." She nodded toward the two Jedi in their dresses. "This is one of those moments. It deserves the same attention as any mission."
Matsu Ike
Switch Kinthal
after forming a quick bond with her on Daiyu. All intentions were to reach out to hunter guilds and take on a new job. Every time that she logged into a guild registry however her thoughts drifted to the Echani woman. A lot of the thoughts were fanciful and needed to be pushed down. Her life couldn't stop because of a new relationship. Though Kyrie wasn't sure exactly what her life was. Perhaps following Switch around was a viable option. Other thoughts however were in concern for how Switch would do out on her own. Switch was more aware of the Sith Lord within her, but it was still uncertain how its presence pressed into the world. For that matter it was also unclear how the true Switch reappeared.
