Live in Light, Surf Master
OOC: Open to any Light Sided Force User, who wants to up their skills in Healing, Calm and the Living Force.
Mandos. It always has to be Mandos, doesn’t it? Me, good traditional Echani I am, who do I get as the first non-Echani Padawan in five hundred years?
Yes, a Mandalorian.
Not only that! But [member="Kaine Australis"]. Kaine Feth-You Australis. Alor of Augh Not Again! Man of many complicated wifely attachments, and father of the most adopted and genetic babies I’ve seen since Darth Carnifex discovered how his hips moved to music. Although estranged from my Padawan, it’s impossible to miss the HoloNet stories of the pig-nosed (or was it headed) green clad Mandalorian Alor.
After a few of them, I figure in order to restore some form of Balance, I might have to teach a few pacifistic skills to make good on the dude who learned how to surf in my pool. I recognize most Jedi haven't heard my name in, okay most of them probably have never heard my name. Ego can sit where it belongs, in a very tiny box next to a collection of recycling on the curb.
My aura of peace, of healing and calm should do enough to call those who wish to learn here.
By the Light. In the rags of the Mandalorian retreat, where do I find myself again? Watching politics stretch across the stars. And yet I’ve removed myself from the vestiges of my hermitage on Sabarene to once more trod the space lanes. Teach a healer’s trick or two.
All because [member="Livia Maddox"] commed me up with a place, a time, and a lesson plan. I might have deleted the lesson plan, and by might have I mean I hit the delete button faster than Livia gets a sideways glance from her husband the Pirate McGuffin or whosawhats.
There were Light Siders who required lessons in the Light’s mercy, in its’ resilience and healing without falling to the ravages of ‘ends justified’ Dark.
One in particular was worth the entire trip: [member="Taozi Fuyuan"], whose medical work I’ve kept a tab on for some time. Call it a fellow doctor’s fascination at new methods and surgical technique.
I plant my white robe clad backside down on the grass and set my elbows on my knees. Inhale the Venan air and hold it. Let it ruminate. Exhale into the breeze.
See who turns up.
Mandos. It always has to be Mandos, doesn’t it? Me, good traditional Echani I am, who do I get as the first non-Echani Padawan in five hundred years?
Yes, a Mandalorian.
Not only that! But [member="Kaine Australis"]. Kaine Feth-You Australis. Alor of Augh Not Again! Man of many complicated wifely attachments, and father of the most adopted and genetic babies I’ve seen since Darth Carnifex discovered how his hips moved to music. Although estranged from my Padawan, it’s impossible to miss the HoloNet stories of the pig-nosed (or was it headed) green clad Mandalorian Alor.
After a few of them, I figure in order to restore some form of Balance, I might have to teach a few pacifistic skills to make good on the dude who learned how to surf in my pool. I recognize most Jedi haven't heard my name in, okay most of them probably have never heard my name. Ego can sit where it belongs, in a very tiny box next to a collection of recycling on the curb.
My aura of peace, of healing and calm should do enough to call those who wish to learn here.
By the Light. In the rags of the Mandalorian retreat, where do I find myself again? Watching politics stretch across the stars. And yet I’ve removed myself from the vestiges of my hermitage on Sabarene to once more trod the space lanes. Teach a healer’s trick or two.
All because [member="Livia Maddox"] commed me up with a place, a time, and a lesson plan. I might have deleted the lesson plan, and by might have I mean I hit the delete button faster than Livia gets a sideways glance from her husband the Pirate McGuffin or whosawhats.
There were Light Siders who required lessons in the Light’s mercy, in its’ resilience and healing without falling to the ravages of ‘ends justified’ Dark.
One in particular was worth the entire trip: [member="Taozi Fuyuan"], whose medical work I’ve kept a tab on for some time. Call it a fellow doctor’s fascination at new methods and surgical technique.
I plant my white robe clad backside down on the grass and set my elbows on my knees. Inhale the Venan air and hold it. Let it ruminate. Exhale into the breeze.
See who turns up.