Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

Register a free account today to become a member! Once signed in, you'll be able to participate on this site by adding your own topics and posts, as well as connect with other members through your own private inbox!

Private Homecoming



Ishida Ashina Ishida Ashina | Inosuke Ashina Inosuke Ashina
Ilum, some time ago...


0v7RlQs.png

Crack.

The blow did not hurt; pain was anchored to her physical form, and in the heart of the icy temple, meditation had freed the master from such a burden. Even still, it startled her -- for a few moments, the ethereal glow faded in and out as her focus reeled. When she managed to regather composure, she saw discovered the source of that glow- and the racket. The short woman had not lost her intensity in death. Weathered eyes fell on her, examining, incorporeal but real all the same.

"I'm a little old for that now, don't you think?" Henna asked, breaking the silence.

"Older, yet you mope as the youth. It seems to me firm guidance is necessary."

The elder waved her cane about, as if threatening another blow.

"Moping, is it?" Henna criticized with an arched brow. "Here I thought I had come for reflection. As you taught me, self awareness is a Jedi's burden."

"You have reflected too long." Kona challenged.

"A lot to reflect on."

Crack.

"No, Henna. You have come to know in your heart what must be done. You must face it, now. You waste time by staying, kicking snow, hoping it will change. I have been patient. It is unlike you to avoid -- the child I knew took any challenge, perhaps too vehemently. Are you really so scared now?"

Henna's face contorted with anger. The smallest ray of light slipped through temple window as the storm clouds above danced, sending thousands of stars off the snowbanks. With eyebrows furrowed, Henna's face turned to study those walls, considering the question despite the fury it evoked.

"To return..." She finally said. "Is to admit I have failed at the greatest of those challenges. To realize all I lost. Yes, it terrifies me."

"Good. You acknowledge it. That's a start."

Kona moved to sit beside her, her phantom cane tapping the stone floor as the two considered the problem before them. Tython had been her home, as well -- a whole generation trained beneath her guidance in following of traditions previously lost. There was no doubt death had finally relieved her of that duty when the Maw had fallen on it, but Henna had a stark realization it had not relieved Kona of mourning as she did.

"The Jedi's burdens. They are many, difficult, often thankless. The heaviest of these is to garner hope, even when all seems lost. But one must remember what is lost can be found. Tython will heal, given time and effort. Your companions..." The ghost's head cocked, as if the bitter wind whispered in her ear. "They are finding their way as we speak. They see the light in the distance as well."

A deep sigh ruminated in Henna's chest. It held all the sorrow and righteous anger she had carrier in her bones since her departure in the aftermath, but beneath it, a flutter took to her stomach. The promise of friendship, love, safety -- all the things she had known in their time together on Tython ignited that spark of hope into a growing flame. It burned the open wounds, closing them for at least a while. When Henna turned to reply, she found herself utterly alone, addressing the abandoned temple instead.

"Then I suppose it is time to go home."


0v7RlQs.png

Tython, Present Day


Master's retreat was unseasonably warm this time of year; and with such a sweet temperature, Tython found balance in the skies above, as dark clouds festered and threatened storms. The temple had not been unscathed in the battle, but it's construction was prioritized, giving the New Jedi Order a place to stay in future restoration efforts. Fresh metal contrasted against dirt and rust on the older walls. A pond bubbled merrily in the distance, promising peace in the garden.

"Knight Ashina should be arriving shortly. Send her back to my quarters when she arrives."

Her quarters, as she found them, had been in a wing wholly decimated; her new quarters, complete with an office and connected to the library, were decorated humbly. The number of books and scrolls in her office alone challenged the number of Jedi in the temple at any given time. They were piled about on almost any surface that could hold them- chaotically organized, some left open to important material she would return to. In the center of it all there were chairs and a holomantle. The illusion of fire granted a snug ambience. Above it hung a saber hilt, silver and ornate, humming quietly in grief.

From the pocket of white robes she drew out the holo map, laying flat on the centerpiece table. Blue and green came to life, displaying Tython's surface, with white and black marking new damages. The meeting was of course one between old friends- and while she was unquestionably excited to reunite with the younger Ashina, the two found themselves sharing another bond. Fate had brought her to invest in Tython's future as well -- and no one person could complete all which need done alone.
 
Last edited:


THE DAUGHTER OF DUTY
TYTHON | THE GNARLS | MASTER'S RETREAT
Henna Sarratt Henna Sarratt | Inosuke Ashina Inosuke Ashina
white.png

stormy.gif



It hadn’t been like the battle of Coruscant, where man-made structures could be remade with funding and labour. Tython could not be boiled like water to be made pure again. The near-annihilation of the Jedi homeworld had deeply impacted the very nature of the volatile planet — a healing process that would take generations.

The Gnarls hadn’t been host to ground forces or starfighter conflict, but it was not unscathed. There were still scorch marks in some of the trees and holes in the ground from when reality had fissured, and the moon had rained craters. What had been thick, unruly, untameable overgrowth was thinner now, and the crevice where landing pads had been built, was more fallen away, steeper, and wider than before.

Ishida took a few seconds to look over the edge when her transport landed, and appreciated the whirl of wind through her hair as she looked down, down, down, down to the valley below.

“Welcome. Please, come this way, Knight Ashina.”

It was strange, walking the rebuilt halls. New nooks had been carved, and what once was one thing had been repurposed to something else. There was a mysterious inexplicability to the awe of the Jedi’s tenacity to keep rebuilding. To keep layering stones on the historic foundation and to inhabit the temple once more — though it was comparatively empty to Prosperity or Coruscant.

When it was time to separate, Ishida half-bowed thanks to the Jedi who’d helped her find where to go.

The doors unsealed themselves when Ishida asked them to. Inside, Henna was aglow in a blue-green light. With her white robes, she almost looked ethereal.

“Master Sarratt,” Ishida felt herself grin, and she half-bowed again. If she were to hug anyone, it would have been Henna, but Ishida’s polite reservations remained in tact. She kept her hands to herself.

“It’s so good to see you.”

Her voice went quieter, as if embarrassed, but trying to worm out more benefit to their relationship: “I missed you.”

As soon as the words were out, Ishida felt a great relief pool through her chest. Tension unwound and slid away and she was able to stand a little straighter and, more importantly, a little closer to The Warden.



 



For all the reservation in the knight, Henna possessed none of it. Once, she had tried to deny her affections for the Ashina family; time had proven such a fruitless endeavor. Acceptance has painted her with a cool confidence in the knowledge. They were the exception, not the rule - and if a lack of dominance over those attachments truly posed danger, it was a danger which she was granted powerless against.

"Knight Ashina. I've missed you, too."

Henna sauntered across the room, offering the young woman a brush of the lips on each cheek. It was a Hapan gesture saved for family and reunion. Upon withdrawal, a scanning gaze swept over Atrisian features. Illusion shattered with the act. There was but a trace of the padawan at a glance. Maturity and harsh certainty had filled in the lines of her face, painting the ghost of her brother in her form. Her presence in the force still resonated with the steady pluck of a koto. If she cocked her head, listening intently, she could detect the subtle shift in it's composition; bolder, purposeful.

"Time has been kind, but it has been too long. Come."

Floating to the corner, she absently gestured to the center of the room, allowing the knight to find her own way to settle. A bar cart waited with a gilded tray. Steam wafted from a teapot, earthy and inviting. Prompt collection brought her back to the table which housed the map to pour.

"Shantii root- I hope you like it. It's known for calming... I'm afraid we might need that today." She gingerly offered a cup to the knight. "I will not dally- we can catch up when the demands of duty are relieved. I've taken the liberty of mapping the wounds from the invasion. The smallest may be eased with light rituals, but the larger... we should not risk it. I'm afraid we'd do more harm. As dangerous as it is, raising temples in those regions may help, closely monitored for dark corruption, of course. Only the most cautious and long term efforts might heal those."

Henna frowned over the glass.

"I'm afraid we have more than our grounds to worry for, though. In what state is the Order's council?"
 
Stillness consumed Ishida, and she stood frozen in the wake of Henna’s warmth. It spread quickly from each cheek, loosened her shoulders, and softened her posture. Suddenly, she felt foolish with her reservations, and folded her hands in front of her sheepishly — resisting the urge to touch her face.

Only when further hospitality was offered did she unfold them, and accepted the tea with a nod of gratitude. There was a heaviness to Henna’s words, more than had been in her initial invitation to her homestead. Ishida should have anticipated it, but still an inkling of fret eked out.

More harm?” Ishida repeated, dumbfounded by the possibility of a light-aligned ritual worsening the state of the Jedi homeworld.

“What are you thinking of doing? We could learn from the responses of the smaller efforts.” She suggested, and poked a finger at one of the areas Henna had encircled on the multidimensional projection. “Adjust them for scale.”

So soon she was seeking the root’s calmness, and let her mouth sit on the edge of the cup. Warmth readily steamed up against her lip and warmed her nose — warning her not to sip. It was still too hot. Her teeth clicked against the porcelain and she considered the great task ahead of Henna. Ishida would help where she could of course. With the resources of The Silik at her command, she had more to offer than ever before.

“In what state is the Order's council?"

Ishida’s helpfulness was met with an obstacle. Bernard was her connection to the council, and they’d been at odds as of late — ever since she’d started actively embracing the legacy Sardun had left for her. She wasn’t ready to meet his scrutiny, and he wasn’t fully able to give it. All that was left unsaid was making things tense between them. Between both pains, the lesser evil was avoidance — it was easier to get distracted with duty.

She felt a trill of heartache at the thought.

“Uh,” she flushed, embarrassed at her shortcoming. “You haven’t spoken with Bernard?”

That might have given away more than she wanted to on her own status with her relationship. Bernard would have told her if he and Henna were working on Warden initiatives together, wouldn’t he?

Would she have been ready to listen?

She lowered the tea and sighed. “I’m not sure how accurate a tell this is, but the last I heard —” Bernard had offered enough at least for her to repeat. His own explanation on why they were being pulled in separate directions. Duty. “It’s much smaller than it was before and most of their focus seems to be on The Maw, and driving them out of the Core. Working closely with The Alliance for the ongoing Reclamation Campaign”



Henna Sarratt Henna Sarratt | Inosuke Ashina Inosuke Ashina
 
Last edited:

Navicomp chimes roused a slumbering Ashina into the throes of unconsciousness. Perception returned at the very moment pale striae snapped into singular points, the mere glimmers of distant stars. Tython's celestial body rapidly expanded, reaching its apex in sync with the subtle pulse of inertial compensators. The onboard holoprojector flickered cerulean light from the flight console, displaying a real-time model of the planet's system. Green light flared on the transceiver, accompanied by a small jingle and automated voice affirming the vessel's flight and landing clearance.

Not too long ago, Inosuke would have struggled to make sense of the sounds and displays that now lay before him. Flying had been a foreign concept once, but now it was mundane enough to grasp freshly out of sleep. Hebo's ignorance had been a wall that only existed for as long as he had been willing to let it. All in all, it was far from the most complicated thing he'd ever learned, and as such it made him feel foolish to have not done so sooner.

Tired hands gripped the yoke and maneuvered the vessel into a descent over Tython's atmosphere. One manus strayed to attend to switches and coax throttle adjustments. A haze of clouds broke against the viewports, unobscuring Tython's green-and-stone horizons. Landforms undulated as they seethed past the edge of viewing, detail clarifying with every league closer to the surface. Descent concluded with the scream of atmospheric engines and the harsh mechanical thud of landing gear onto an ancient platform.

Languorous stride scraped rhythmically down the docking ramp and onto the platform outside Masters Retreat. Inosuke drew a deep breath as the sun warmed his face, savoring his first whiff of fresh, non-atmo-filtered air in more than forty hours.

"Master Ashina, welcome," one of the retreat Jedi attendants offered with a bow.

Inosuke mirrored the gesture, remaining mute as he slung a small bag over his shoulder.

After scrolling through a holopad, the robed woman spoke again. "We were not expecting you, Master Ashina. Do you require accommodation?"

In declination, his head shook softly. "I am here to see Master Sarratt."

Again, she searched through the data on her device. "Is she expecting you?"

"No."

The exchange caught there, hung at an awkward impasse for a few moments. "I see," the attendant offered apprehensively. She raised a hand to scratch at the back of her head. "Forgive me, Master. If may suggest that you wait here, I will-" She halted at the sight of the Master's slightly emaciated hand raising as an indication of repose, palm out disarmingly.

"I will manage," Ashina insisted before brushing past, softly indifferent to the sputter of protest the attendant spat in his wake.

Tired yet deliberate tread carried Ashina through the old halls, the subtle rake-and-crack of his Atrisian geta resonating down the stony interior. Despite the years away, the sparse time he'd spent here, and the reconstructions it had undergone, the path to Sarratt's accommodations remained seared into memory. Rounding a corner, his nose caught the elusive smell of tea, the vague sounds of familiar dictions hidden just beyond it. Ishida? Unexpected, but then again so was he. A pleasant surprise if ever there was one.

Ashina's figure, slightly withered from deaths uncounted, appeared in the doorway. Lacking the arrogance to flaunt his presence, he halted politely at the threshold. Quietly he stood, so as not to insert himself abruptly into something ongoing.




Henna Sarratt Henna Sarratt | Ishida Ashina Ishida Ashina
 



Intense focus met Ishida's explanations, never falling away. The master did not miss the uncertainty when she asked after the Sword of Tython. The men in our life deserve not the privilege to treat us so. The rogue thought brought a hard grimace about, but passed without voicing. The younger watchman was a topic to be broached later, surely.

"Perhaps harm is not the word. Imbalance would be better - the current source of Tython's turmoil."

Something shifted in the atmosphere, sending a shiver rolling down Henna's back. Her gaze instinctively moved to the window before continuing.

"That is the best news I've had in... a long while. Tython's metamorphosis remains incomplete... but given the chance, the Maw will surely see it finished. Perhaps our most urgent of tasks is thwarting that attempt."

The words were uttered not as speculation, but fact. Clearly the seer had seen something which had convinced her.

The earlier shift grew greater, sending Henna's eyebrows to meet the bridge of her nose as she tuned into it. Subtle, ethereal, it was the most nuanced of shifts, almost entirely hidden in the matching harmony of the younger's; but sweet, familiar, and welcome, the second koto strummed it's melancholic tune. Ivory slipped through her fingers, sending the cup rolling across the floor. It was forgotten in her disbelief. Tension took her as she turned robotically to meet the figure in the doorway. One blink, and he might slip away again.

"Inosuke."

Quick wit had clearly become an alien concept as Henna stood dumbfounded.

"You really should start calling." She finally managed, shock evaporating.
 
Last edited:
For some reason, Henna’s reaction to the council’s focus to go for The Maw surprised her. But a delighted surprise. If Henna saw purpose in the action, then it was likely the right one. Vindication bloomed behind her cheeks, and she nodded in agreement.

“Yes, the first stri——” But the plans remained unshared, interrupted instead by something else. Another surprise!

Ishida's reaction to both the falling mug and her brother’s arrival were belated. Where Henna’s grip loosened, Ishida’s tightened and she stared at the figure in the doorway.

Last time she and her brother had an unexpected reunion, and she’d tried to hug him, it had not gone well. Neither of them were familiar enough with touch to be comfortable, and for all that had changed through the years, that remained the same. She smiled, at least, and then her joyful countenance melted to concern.

“You look awful, brother.” Ishida murmured, more horrified than judgemental. She took several tight paces forward, closing the distance to scrutinize the accuracy of assessment. Where there’d been much muscle and posture before, there was a weariness to his physique. It was more than age, it hadn’t been that long since she’d seen him — had it?

“What happened to you?”

Inosuke Ashina Inosuke Ashina | Henna Sarratt Henna Sarratt
 
"You really should start calling."

Tired eyes slowly drifted from the cup they'd followed, then up to meet Henna. Signature austerity reigning, Inosuke's face feigned complete indifference. Pensive silence preceded any explanation, the weak semblance of a shrug rousing his shoulders briefly. "I did not think you would mind," he offered, direct and flat. Perhaps he'd been mistaken to think she liked surprises.

“You look awful, brother. What happened to you?”

Ashina spared a glance to the manus unoccupied with keeping a bag slung over his shoulder. Palm inward, it raised toward his regard, turned over beneath it before dropping back to his side. "The gift takes what it is due," he explained cryptically. Despite being sapped, his scrutiny was as firm as ever when it came over to oblige his sister.

"I am not decrepit yet," he appended. "Nothing regular meals will not solve, I suspect."

After a beat, the bag on his shoulder slumped and fell, caught shy of the floor by the full extension of his arm. An exhale resonated, diminishing his shoulders more than they'd already shriveled. Slow steps, geta raking against the tile, carried him from the threshold toward the center where the seating arrangements laid in wait. Surely they wouldn't mind if he saw himself in, he thought. Lowering weakly, he sat and allowed the bag to fall where it seemingly wished.

Suddenly the lack of closure in the awkward silence wasn't lost on him anymore after settling for a moment. "Please... You both act as if you are seeing my ghost," he remarked with gentle, weary indignation.
 
Last edited:



Words failed. Henna's mouth opened and closed and opened, only to settle firmly into a hard line. Joy was there, but corrupted. Her eyes moved back to study the hologram that had their attention before his entrance. Did he know? He couldn't have, else he would have came sooner. Right? Yet even so, how did she explain all which had passed since his last departure. He must know. Atrisia was remote, but...

Internal debate continued as she chased the cup. It was not only Tython. The gift. Inherited divinity, he had once named it. The knight had been a ghost of himself when he rose, yet that ghost looked more a man than the one who had marched into her offices. One logical conclusion to explain that, and it was unsurprising.

The cup settled in it's place, just so, and a plate of scones appeared from seemingly nowhere. Glass tinkled against wood as she placed it before him.

"Eat."

A clean mug, filled, appeared beside it.

"I am glad to see you, ghostly as you may appear." She added.

Robed posterior perched on the arm of a chair. A pose of indecision. Gaze firmly held on the map, a deep sigh escaped her chest. It would be a conversation, but not now. Rationality dictated their prolonged separation was not entirely on him. She had chosen duty, too.

"How was home?" She worded purposefully, recalling their last conversation. Atrisia. Perhaps the inquiry would invite the younger, breaking the tension. "Did you find what you were looking for?"

Thoughtful expression turned to Ishida.

"Tell me of your ancestors- how many times did one have to fall on the sword before this gift failed them?"
 
Last edited:
Ishida felt her ears flatten at the reference — The gift.

No wonder Inosuke Ashina Inosuke Ashina looked half-alive. She felt her jaw tighten indignantly at the way he withheld precious information from her. Again. And it always seemed about this, the gift. Like it was his sole burden, and it was offensive for her to even know about it. She heard herself make a sound at the back of her throat that was very close to a scoff.

Henna Sarratt Henna Sarratt went about being loving, caring and helpful, and Ishida just stared at Inosuke through it all. The gift. He joked about his appearance, audaciously calling it ghostly, and Ishida felt her arms flatten in a fold across her chest. And her fingers curled into her biceps the more information Henna sought to draw out from Inosuke. These words were like triggers for the second-attempt Ashina. Home. The Gift. Ancestors.

It took Ishida a few seconds to realize Henna was looking directly at her, inviting her into the conversation at the expense of her brother's self-proclaimed duty and responsibility. It was a marvellous balance she managed to tread — caring for Inosuke and fiendishly holding him accountable to the wider world while inviting Ishida to participate in the dynamic.

She felt a small smile crack through the tension of her frown. Bit by bit, it eked through and sharpened the corners of her mouth.

"One too many." Was all she could offer, feigning a lightness to her tone she didn't feel. It took every ounce of restraint not to launch into an interrogation to her brother. She wanted to pursue more information about home, and what that meant to him. Was it home home? Or just Atrisia proper.

There was no way he went back to Hebo...

right?

Wide-eyed, she waited for whatever the answer back to Henna could be. What had he been looking for?
 
"I am glad to see you, ghostly as you may appear."

Inosuke discharged a small sigh of refreshment once he concluded a long sip of the beverage offered. "Likewise, dear," he offered, placidness nearly betraying sincerity. A weak smile strayed upwards from his drink, assuring where there may have been doubting. That same look drifted over to Ishida, and presented itself before her wordlessly, masking an inuqistive scrutiny behind it.

"Did you find what you were looking for?"

"No," Inosuke replied stiffly. "I was unable to elucidate anything I did not already know." He suspected that wasn't the answer either of them was anticipating. Yet, all the same, the confession was stated as straightforwardly as one would expect from an Ashina; no inclination of disappointment or shame, it simply was.

Brow furrowed over a thin gaze, evincing an internal abstract he still struggled to mold into something cognitively tangible. "I merely..." Ashina trailed off, putting several fickle pieces together before he could finish the thought. "Acquired an alternate perspective." Hardly an unambiguous answer, though lucidity didn't feel entirely necessary. "All of that time just to unveil an answer that had been before me all along." A twinge of frustration slithered beneath the expected serenity. "Fool's wisdom," he appended.

Inosuke's laconic reputation was suddenly, dangerously on the verge of evaporating.

Once again, he turned to Ishida with same searching glance she'd been subjected to twice since he'd arrived, though not it lingered as a fully-fledge gaze. "You've grown," he observed cryptically as if she hadn't already been fully grown the last time they'd been in one another's company. Perhaps it wasn't literal, but rather parabolic as his observations often were. "Yet, not so much that I cannot sense you are disquieted," he contented.

"Speak."
 
"Fool's wisdom," he appended.

A brow raised to meet the exposition. It was all the gloating she allowed. She knew the only answers which would have led him back to the heart of the core stood in the room with him. Of course there was no way he would have believed her before he left; some answers could only be found through trial. Her eyes wandered to the discarded bag, though before she inquire about the length of his stay, provocation presented itself.

It was only then reality broke the fog of infatuation. Stark body language conveyed the silvery fury without need for words. Empathetic comfort was instinct, but Henna resisted the pull. They were as volatile as the skies above, but buried emotion was far more dangerous. Corrosive, it could break even the strongest of bonds; best to get it out in the open.

"Temperance."

Soft reminder was all the intervention Henna allowed herself. Words cut deep as steel when wielded without care. She settled into the seat, watching carefully. The words needed said all the same, and some small part was grossly satisfied with the admonishment she hoped the younger would deliver.
 
Last edited:

Ishida sucked in a breath and thinned her expression.

"Temperance."

Somehow, they managed to be both gentle and humiliating. She felt her rage stutter and die, and a vast embarrassment flooded into a place it had been. She wanted the anger back.

“A gift isn’t meant to be abused.” Her voice and fists were tight.

She unclenched her hands, and shook her wrists. The looseness didn’t recover her dignity. She could feel it slipping away with the tension in her muscles.

Well, if it was gone anyway…

“I don’t understand how you can dance so close to so many futures, and leave them behind each time. Your transience is hard.Maybe she was projecting now, so she stopped, bit her tongue, drew in a deep breath, held it, and let it out.

The age gap between them inserted a distance that might not have otherwise been there — but the true distance was in their point of origin. The man her father had been to her had been that way because of Inosuke’s disappointment.

“You’re on Atrisia, and you do what? Push the gift to the limits instead of considering every opportunity to deal with what was home there? I would, and I will if you don't.

But how can we know what your intentions are when you're just..."
she gestured, inconclusive with her descriptor and instead motioned to the brunette in the seat who felt a little bit like a one-woman jury.

“And there’s Henna, here, you just come and go at your will without any consideration otherwise?” She sprung up her pointer and middle finger to emphasise the number “And all this moving around between two points without actually having any impact on either. When you should and you can.”

Ishida stopped, tightened, and huffed.

“I’m happy to see you though.” She added meekly, almost like an inaudible after thought.

Henna Sarratt Henna Sarratt | Inosuke Ashina Inosuke Ashina
 
Last edited:

Users who are viewing this thread

Top Bottom