Public Metropolitan Museum of Coruscant Presents | Echoes of the Jedi Exhibit

[Vilka Keldra]

STARLIGHT
METROPOLITAN MUSEUM | CORUSCANT
TAG: Yennic Zhan | Jerec Asyr | Junko Ike | Open

SATURN​

It had been quite some time.

Vilka had spent so much time in the Unknown Regions that she hadn't been to Coruscant for quite a while. The hustle and bustle just reminded the Sephi why she was never fond of the ecumenopolis. But exceptions could be made for certain things.

If it were only the artifacts from Jakku that were to be on display, Vilka would have been content to let Yennic accompany them. But the Sight that had come with the acquisition of the artifacts, was troubling. The loss of the spearhead of the restoration of the Jakku Enclave due to extradition warranted her personal support.

The Seer stood outside, looking up at the night sky. The lights of Coruscant made it impossible to see any stars, but Vilka could still feel their light. In the background, she could hear Romi Jade delivering the weighted blow to the public. They were so close to opening the Enclave to young minds again. It would be up to her and Yennic now to see it through.
"Force be with you, Young Master Jade." she sent the wish quietly to the night.

Then she slowly returned to where there was life around the building, knowing the press and public inside would be clambering all over Romi. And the viewing of the artifacts wasn't necessary, as she had helped move them.

Her former Padawan was talking to a vocal Ithorian just outside while a blast from Vilka's past in the form of Junko Ike took part in the discussion. The Sephi glided closer to hear.

"Thanks, but I've got flyers to hand out. If a Jedi gets rough with my friends out here I'm the only one of'em who could stop him." He grimaced, scratched his chin. "Look, thank you. You're the first Jedi in forty years who gave a shit when I talked about the murder, and I'm not exaggerating. I'm Captain Jerec Asyr."

"Is this one Quekko, was that your friend."

Vilka's head canted to the side as she assessed the situation.
"Master Zhan, Master Ike." she greeted with a regal incline of the head. "Captain, my deepest condolences to your loss. It saddens me to know something like that had transpired. Would you care to give official accounts of it for a Temple Journal? The most prudent teacher is truth, after all." she then asked Jerec Asyr .

If what he said was true, it saddened her to know about the aggression of some Jedi.

 

[Mishel]

Mishel observed from afar as Romi Jade and Briana Sal-Soren moved elsewhere within the crowds. Many arrived to oooh-and-ahhh at the collection assembled before them. Sure, some were aware of the significance of what was there at the Museum. For others they were simply there to play the part and have their pictures taken, and could care little for the affairs of Jedi or even if one was extradited or what that would mean. Others simply played armchair expert without having any actual expertise.

She could pursue her old master but for the moment decided against it, whatever it was she had to share with the other woman. Would not be for her ears to hear, instead she pulled back, it would be hard for her not to feel Romi's presence anyway. The Tygaran made her way toward the holo displays, and looked at the history that was on display. Mishel had hidden herself away in some form or another during these events making her presence known and felt on Tython. Memories of Jakku weren't as they should be, so she figured that her lack of memory meant a lack of participation.

Yet, as she wandered, she found herself near someone of vague familiarity at best. Thurion Heavenshield and the image went with the name, but so long ago she was not but a distant figure herself. A young child during the age of the Silver Jedi, the Coalition then. The Sanctum, before was it? Mishel's life started out so ordinary before she learned the truth of her nature, of her progenitors. She only bore an ever-so-slight similarity to either one of her parents. So she was simply a stranger in a strange place.

 

[Caltin Vanagor]

The last thing that evil wants...​

Location: Metropolitan Museum of Coruscant

Spoiler: Personal effects

"Vanguard" (Secondary - Long Handle)

"CONSERVATOR" (Primary - Long Handle)
Robes, Battle Armor,Toraynor-Henkan(mind crystal added) Advanced Jedi Utility Belt
Starship: Spectre, HK-88 (NC-1000 X-wing (Jedi Variant) in the hangar, Dilorian, and Bike both in the cargo bay, the late Karki Eusith's Armor, Shield, Temple Guard Lightsaber mounted on the wall)

Foes:
Allies: Romi Jade

”A real friend is one who walks in when the rest of the world walks out" - Walter Winchell​

Jedi Master Caltin Vanagor and his wife, Chrysa Vanagor , stood side by side in the grand lightsaber exhibit of the Jedi Temple. The room was filled with an array of lightsabers, each one a testament to the technology, creativity, and personality of its wielder. Caltin and Chrysa marveled at the intricate designs, the vibrant colors, and the stories behind each weapon.

As they admired a particularly elegant lightsaber, Caltin's comlink buzzed softly. He glanced at the holographic display and saw the face of his dear friend, Romi Jade , appearing before him. This was a recording of the announcement she had just made and helping the volume down they had reqatched it. Romi was a fellow Jedi Master, known for her unwavering dedication to justice and her fierce loyalty to her friends.

Even from where they stood, it was easy to see, not to mention disheartening, how Romi took a deep breath, her eyes filled with a mix of determination and sadness. She had been informed that the Senate has issued an extradition order for me. They believe that she had been involved in a mission that went against their interests.

Going back to their conversation on how best to be friends with her, he wanted to do what he does, take on the galaxy, perhaps recruiting his friend and “brother”, Jedi Master and Midvinter king Thurion Heavenshield . Chrysa was the voice of reason and just to be there for her however she needed them to be. That was something he took a moment or two with, but agreed was the right thing. This was just as a redhead in green robes walked into the exhibit and looked around. His lament was not boisterous but they both heard him.

I regret that no effective way has been found to defend, other than to kill."

Denn Verdan looked to be a true pacifist, a picture of what the Jedi are meant to be. However, while putting down their lightsaber due to peace is something worth wishing for, they do what they must in the meantime.

I understand that you express regret over the lack of effective alternatives to killing as a means of defense. It is indeed unfortunate that in certain situations, violence seems to be the only perceived solution. However, it is important to remember that resorting to violence should always be the last option, and efforts should be made to explore non-violent means of defense and conflict resolution.

Throughout history, humanity has made progress in finding peaceful resolutions to conflicts, such as through diplomacy, negotiation, and mediation. These methods may take longer and require more effort, but they have the potential to prevent unnecessary loss of life and promote understanding between parties involved.

It is crucial for societies to invest in education, dialogue, and fostering empathy to address the root causes of conflicts. By promoting tolerance, understanding, and respect for one another, we can work towards creating a world where violence is not the default response to threats or disagreements.

While it may be disheartening that we have not yet found universally effective alternatives to killing, it is essential to continue striving for peaceful solutions. By doing so, we can contribute to a more compassionate and harmonious world, where violence is truly the last resort.

... is my undivided attention.
[/CENTER]

 

[Denn Verdan]

​

He looked up at Caltin as he spoke.

Denn was a fairly tall, athletic man, but this figure dwarfed him in both height and muscular bulk. His eyes were strange- at once bright and empty.

Cybernetic?

His presence in the Force suggested a strong but atypical connection that Denn could not identify.

Denn thought that this man looked familiar, but there were thousands of Jedi in the galaxy... and five years was a long time to be out of circulation.

He smiled at the man. "It has ever been my aspiration to see such ideals realized in my lifetime... but I see no way to bridge the distance between the bloodshed of the present and the peace of that luminous future." The carnage of the battlefield was still fresh in his mind.

Then he dipped his head in respect.

"Forgive me. You seem familiar to me, but I do not recall your name.

I am Denn. Denn Verdan. I have recently returned from a consular assignment to Aing-Tii space. I have been lamenting the state of the galaxy upon my return.

Still, it is glad to hear such sentiments from a fellow Jedi during a time of conflict. Perhaps the bridge can yet be made, though I cannot see it at present... if enough of us still believe."



Caltin Vanagor

 

[Caltin Vanagor]

The last thing that evil wants...​

Location: Metropolitan Museum of Coruscant

Spoiler: Personal effects

"Vanguard" (Secondary - Long Handle)

"CONSERVATOR" (Primary - Long Handle)
Robes, Battle Armor,Toraynor-Henkan(mind crystal added) Advanced Jedi Utility Belt
Starship: Spectre, HK-88 (NC-1000 X-wing (Jedi Variant) in the hangar, Dilorian, and Bike both in the cargo bay, the late Karki Eusith's Armor, Shield, Temple Guard Lightsaber mounted on the wall)

Foes:
Allies: Romi Jade

”A real friend is one who walks in when the rest of the world walks out" - Walter Winchell​

Caltin was listening to the Aing-Ti assigned Knight, but noticed the touch by his wife on his arm. Through the Force, Chrysa Vanagor told him she would go over to Romi Jade and offer their support to her and Johannes. He appreciated her efforts and kept his attention to the man across from him. Denn Verdan looked to be a pained in the subject that they were discussing. It was undeniable in how they were warriors of necessity not choice.

Master Caltin Vanagor, and your words resonate deeply with me, Varden. It is understandable that the horrors of war and the seemingly insurmountable challenges we face can make it difficult to envision a future of lasting peace. The path to peace may appear elusive, but it is precisely during times of conflict that our commitment to non-violence and compassion becomes even more crucial.

Your experiences and insights from your consular assignment to Aing-Tii space undoubtedly provide a unique perspective on the state of the galaxy. It is heartening to hear that despite the darkness that surrounds us, you still hold onto hope and believe in the possibility of bridging the gap between bloodshed and peace.

As Jedi, it is our duty to uphold the values of justice, harmony, and understanding. We must continue to strive for peaceful resolutions, even when it seems challenging or impossible. By embodying these ideals and inspiring others to do the same, we can create ripples of change that have the potential to transform the galaxy.

Let us remember that peace is not a destination but a continuous journey. It requires patience, perseverance, and unwavering dedication. Together, as Jedi, we can work towards building bridges, fostering dialogue, and seeking common ground amidst the conflicts that surround us.

May the Force guide us in our pursuit of peace, and may our actions serve as beacons of hope for a brighter future.

... is my undivided attention.
​

 

[Denn Verdan]

So, he was a Master.

But that was plain from the quality of his words and thoughts. Here was a figure who could guide others and perhaps even guide the order as a whole.

Denn dipped his head, "Thank you, Master Vanagor. I feel bolstered by your words, and have a renewed hope for the future.

May the Force be with You, and may the Order long benefit from your counsel."

Not wanting to take more of the Master's time, Denn made a discreet withdrawal, moving now to the exhibit on the recent Hyperspace War.

A curious term, that. Hyperspace War. Sanitized, to Denn's mind. It made the war sound like it had been a conflict with Hyperspace itself.

He began reading displays, as an audio presentation played in the background.

It had clearly been a terrible conflict that he was privileged to largely avoid.

But the time for avoidance was over.

For better or worse, he was back now.



Caltin Vanagor

 

[Yennic Zhan]

Location: Metropolitan museum of coruscant - exterior moving in
Objective: Visit exhibition
Tag: Romi Jade Jerec Asyr Vilka Keldra Junko Ike

Forty years without acknowledgement would be enough to drive the most patient to distraction. She nodded to Jerec Asyr kindly, it had cost her nothing to try to understand his pain. "Very well, I wish you the best in your endeavours, awareness breeds accountability which is cannot be a bad thing."

Her mentor was the next person to arrive and she felt the warm familiarity of the Sephi. "Master Keldra, I was just about to head inside and observe the exhibits, Master Jade has managed to garner quite a lot of interest here." she would leave the Ithorian to carry about his legal right to protest and hope to join the other patrons inside. The Zelosian took a quick moment to close her eyes and bathe her face in the light from Coruscant Prime as it peaked between the clouds. It wasnt the greatest star in the galaxy, but so many people on this world would never get to see it so the woman thanked the force that she was so privileged.

 

[Jerec Asyr]

"Is this one Quekko, was that your friend." She held it and read at it while seeing some of the other flyers and their titles.

"Captain, my deepest condolences to your loss. It saddens me to know something like that had transpired. Would you care to give official accounts of it for a Temple Journal? The most prudent teacher is truth, after all."

"Very well, I wish you the best in your endeavours, awareness breeds accountability which is cannot be a bad thing."

Jerec felt conflicted. At some level he both wanted and did not want to be comforted about Quekko's loss. Compounding that was the tension between how he'd so often known Jedi to behave, both institutionally and as individuals, and how these ones were behaving now. Maybe things had changed for the better.

Hell, he'd even wagered the Jedi would be the first to pull a war crime in the Mandalorian Enclave conflict and wound up needing to shell out money when proven wrong. Change might actually be in the wind.

"Thanks," he said to Vilka Keldra . "I'll be staying with my group for the next few hours, but I'll make time to come in and give a statement."

He disengaged from the three Jedi and continued handing out flyers with the rest of the Ithorians.

 

[Junko Ike]

Yennic Zhan Jerec Asyr Vilka Keldra

SHe bowed as the Ithorian was leaving... there was a point you had to disengage and move forward.... and he had already seemed to be willing to listen or at least humor them trying to offer help. "As you wish." SHe bowed her head and stayed there for a moment with the other two jedi... the idea of saying they did good seemed tacky... at the lwast though she offered a smile. "THank you for the assistance." She said it and looking at the two she turned towards the place that had drawn all of their interest with a nod of her head. "Shall we go inside?" She said it and kept two of the pamplets tucking them into her robe... she would be able to look at them later.

 

[Nathan Bloodscrawl]

Wearing: Suit and Tie

Armed With: Nathan's Lightsaber

Ionized Stun Pistol




He could feel Syd Celsius in his head all the time since Ukatis. She stayed away from him physically most times but since Ukatis it seemed the bond had strengthened even more nightmarishly.

He was still very injured from Ukatis. Everything hurt. He hadn't slept. Hadn't eaten well either.

He didn't wear robes. He had gone in a cheap (It hadn't cost more than forty two credits because he was a cheap bastard when it came to himself) but well made three piece carnation pink suit with a navy blue tie. He really needed to stop letting Moya choose the colors. He wasn't sure if she was trolling him, or if her taste was legit bad, but this was embarrassing. He had worn it to be polite. And because it was cheap AF.

For the life of him, he didn't know why he was here. These items on display were important on a morale basis, he supposed. But they didn't improve his morale. Not in the slightest.

With the recent defeat and damage of Thyferra as an asset, Bacta-Works was poised to pick up the slack. But he had one extra play he was considering, though he wasn't sure how to explain it to the masters.

He knew the location of Kytrand. He just wasn't sure if he should share it.

Nathan was wary of getting too caught up in this war with the Mandalorians. He was already fighting his own private war without the Order's knowledge. He didn't care if The Mandalorians were exterminated as they had been a thorn in the Galaxy's side for millennia, yet somehow they always got cut more slack than the Sith did despite basically being guilty of the same crimes.

But he also didn't ultimately care about the Alliance's survival either. He wouldn't blink if it vanished tomorrow, even with all the chaos and bloodshed that would ensue. If the Alliance wasn't meant to survive, it wouldn't, no matter how much effort was thrown into saving it. It was bloated anyway. The Jedi were much too attached to it for their own good. The same sin they had committed with the Galactic Republic.

Nathan didn't voice any of this. He knew he would not be listened to. The bosses never listened to anyone if they didn't have to. It was true of most Masters in the Gulag, and it was true now. Even his own master, Moya De Lifte, had suffered from this flaw.

He would be the knife up the sleeve, rather than the sword in the hand. He would not voice his misgivings, his criticisms. He would not rebel as his daughter had, when she had witnessed the absurdity of their choices.

He would simply act on his goals. Without their approval. Or knowledge, even.

As far as he was concerned, as long as he wasn't trying to screw with The Order, what he was doing counted as a simple side hustle.

But that still left the question of whether to reveal Kytrand's location, he thought, as he observed the ornate weapons. He never gave his own such elaborate engravings and such. Seeing them told you about the personality... perhaps more than what the creator had intended.

Kytrand, from what he last knew of it, had reserves of Bacta that could easily rival, if not surpass those on Thyferra...and it supposedly was a location for extremely rare lightsaber crystals.

A whole planet, just waiting for a bustling refugee population surge...

But it would have to be done carefully. Everyone he brought in would have to be carefully researched. Bacta-Works as a company had been long gone from Epica for about a week before The Mandalorians occupied it. Production had not been halted in the slightest.

As he stared at the displays, walking past famous and powerful Jedi he didn't care about, a tiny thought bubbled in his head.

Do I actually 'want' to help?

He stared at all these relics, silent and grim faced as always, and felt nothing stir in him. No inspiration. No patriotism.

They were nothing but objects to him.

This Museum was nothing but the Order trying to lick it's wounds after getting it's ass kicked. Again.

Nathan, in that instant, realized he could gain nothing from walking such a place. He had no interest in the relics. Or the teachings or writings of dead people. The secret to eternal life could have been on display, and it would have been as worthless to him as a used napkin. It's not like they still bothered to use the relics most times...they were mainly kept under lock and key, the only difference now was that the public could watch them be under lock and key. He himself would certainly have never been allowed near them under most circumstances.

And what use is a relic if it's just occasionally brought out?

But Nathan still walked the place anyway in this ridiculous suit, if only to see and really take in just how soft the Order had gotten...

 

[Thurion Heavenshield]

As he turned away from the holo-display, preferring to leave the past where it belonged, Thurion took a deep breath while again observing the exhibit and its visitors. Some familiar faces had begun to appear, not least of all Caltin Vanagor chatting with another Jedi. He'd earned the oath of brotherhood after having saved Thurion from a watery grave on Tython, along with the successful retrieval of the Jedi Forge. To the Valkyri, there was no stronger bond between two unrelated men than that of sworn brotherhood. For all intents and purposes, they were now considered of the same blood.

However, it wasn't Caltin he found himself drawn to, nor was it Romi Jade still beleaguered by people looking to speak with her. It was the young woman to his right meeting his gaze which garnered his attention, for it seemed to him she was somewhat familiar. No name came to mind, but her youthful appearance suggested she must be the daughter of an old acquaintance.

Throwing the cloak over his shoulder revealed more of his garments, the gold embroidery hinting at his noble lineage. Removing his leather gloves, he swept a hand through his greying mane of gold while sidling up to the young Jedi. "Truly puts things into perspective, does it not? That our lives are but a single grain of sand in a desert the size of Tatooine when taking the entire history of the Jedi into account. It is humbling, though I am unsure whether I should consider it a comforting or terrifying thought."

Turning to face her, he was again puzzled by her features. "Forgive me, Lady Jedi, but I cannot shake the feeling we've met before, elsewhere. Your face... it triggers the faintest of memories of old acquaintances either lost or estranged. Might I inquire about your name?"

Mishel

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

Ship: The Red Night
Weapons:
Tag: Lossa Darcuhl Briana Sal-Soren Romi Jade

Gatz felt like an imposter, walking amongst Jedi relics and curios.

He had to remind himself that this exhibit was open to the public, not just members of the Order. There was no 'belonging' here. All were welcome to the knowledge and history displayed in the museum. And even if this had been a private affair, he'd come on the heels of a Jedi Knight and a Padawan. Hell, he'd grown up in the Temple here on Coruscant! This was his history.

And yet, not a single one of those simple facts made him feel any more at ease. Gatz supposed that he would always feel like an outsider. Maybe he'd always be one too. A fitting fate, for a man guilty of his sins.

But then he spotted her, a bright spattering of pink against dull greys, and the usual angst came to a dead halt. In its place, a new thought process claimed dominion over his mind: now that he'd found her, what did he say to her? It was such an odd thing to wonder too. Lossa, Briana, himself—they'd literally shown up together. Lossa had disappeared while Gatz was attempting to be a pillar of support for a moody Briana, but they'd only been separated for, like, fifteen minutes.

So it wasn't like they hadn't seen each other in a while. There was no reason to be this fixated on figuring out what to say to her. He could just ask what she was looking at, and boom: conversation started. It should have been no problem. He wasn't some middle schooler trying to work up the courage to speak to his crush. He was an adult... trying to work up the courage to speak to his crush.

God dammit.

Over a dozen one-night stands over the years, no problem. One Zeltron girl with a pretty smile, and it's like I'm a stuttering virgin again.

Or maybe—just maybe—he wasn't that foul scoundrel anymore. Maybe a year of repentance had taught him how to be a decent human being: and that meant actually caring about people, instead of seeing them as objects. Gatz took one look at Lossa as he approached, anguish clear on her face, and felt an immediate compulsion to help. He was pretty sure he'd never felt compelled to help an object before.

And for once, he knew that feeling was his own, and not Briana's.

"You know," Gatz started quietly, as he stepped into the empty space at Lossa's side, "I just got done telling your cousin what frowning does to a pretty face. So, do you wanna find a bench, maybe sit down and talk about it? Or would you rather glare at inanimate objects all day? I mean, I'm game for both, but one seems more productive than the other."

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

On a bench in front of the museum, Cora held a pamphlet in one hand, reading it with eyes the size of saucers. The tips of two fingers from her other hand were pressed against her lips in awe.

She set down REMEMBER THE LAVA CELLS in the stack with the others, and started in on JEDI RIPPED MY FLESH.

“Oh my.”

 

[Mishel]

Quietly, Mishel observed the exhibit that had been thoughtfully put together. She hadn't been entirely present for any of the conflicts presented so she took her time and read through them. Occasionally, looking over her shoulder in Romi Jade and Briana Sal-Soren 's directions to discern when it would be a good or at least more 'appropriate' time to check in on her old friend and master. Yet the passing familiarity of Thurion Heavenshield was there, she likely knew of him or heard of his name from her time as either a Knight of Ren or in her career as a Jedi under the tutelage of Coren Starchaser.

The Tygaran answered him first before turning to meet with him properly, "It is both terrifying and comforting, I think."

It was perhaps the first time in a long time since anyone had actually studied her face the way he had. Her smile shifted into a smirk when he asked if they had met before, "Mhmmm, I don't think we've met but I probably remind you of a very particular person. Something about fire, I'm sure." Then a look over her shoulder and back at the older man who had the purest blue eyes she had ever seen, and he definitely towered over her. "My name is Mishel, a pleasure to meet you...?" She left off the end hoping he'd fill it in.

 

[Briana Sal-Soren]

Wearing: XoXo | Equipment: Lightsaber | Location: Coruscant | Tag: Romi Jade​

The ripple from Romi's touch told her enough, making a mental note to keep her eyes from wandering while silently extending her awareness outwards to see if she could gauge just how closely they were being monitored. "You didn't expect that I'd sit back on my haunches and leave you to hang out to dry, did you?" Briana forced a nonchalant smile, attempting to lighten the dour mood. "Besides, there's actually something else that I needed to talk to you about." Her gaze fixated on the artifact in front of them. A pause.

One beat, two.

"It's about Brandyn," she continued, "He's gone missing and I think — I know, he's connected to the prophecy. When you shared your vision with me, I saw Brandyn there. I've known for a while now that he was part of it." When she'd witnessed Brandyn's role and his eventual fate that morning in Romi's apartment, Briana had done what she always did. Dragged it on her shoulders like it was a personal responsibility.

After all, she'd been the one who'd pushed and driven Brandyn away. Why should she infect others with her own failures? The very last thing she wanted was to lay this burden at Romi's feet. Especially now.

Guilt pricked at her. "I'm worried he's slipping to the dark side, and you're one of the few people he still listens to. I thought... perhaps if we found him together and confronted him, we might have a chance at saving him from himself." But it would mean leaving sooner, rather than later. It would mean potentially worsening Romi's already precarious situation. "I know it's asking a lot."

 

[Romi Jade]

CORUSCANT
METROPOLITAN MUSEUM OF CORUSCANT

Heh - she lurched forward in an airy burst of laughter, "You're right, I'd expect nothing less." Briana, forever reminded her of herself in that stage of her life. All of her mentees did in some capacity, but with Briana it was like looking into a mirror sometimes...the energy she mustered brought about a certain nostalgia.

Brandyn...he's gone missing...her face scrunched up at the thought, shooting the Naboo noble a quick glare riddled with confusion. Though, not so soon after she realized where she was, throwing stray glances around the room as her expressions returned to normal -- all looked fine.

This entire time she assumed Brandyn was occupied with his Jedi-ship, and then everything that had transpired with the Sal-Soren family lately, she felt like space was necessary, and should he need her then...

"The prophecy...so he's either one of or connected to the four perils, hmm..." she sunk into herself, lost in thought. "It would make sense."

In her mind she was trying to place him in all of this, as of now, she had only found one of the perils...that being Briana. She wasn't sure where any of the others were or who they were, but realizing now her connection to them both, and them being siblings...she was putting the pieces together; she needed to be sure.

She nodded, "We find him, confront him, and figure this out. I can't move as freely at the moment, everything I do is...being watched. It has to be somewhere discreet, and it has to happen before I leave for Pantora."

-----
Briana Sal-Soren

 

[Lossa Darcuhl]

Accessories: Bracelet, Echo Stone
Tags: Gatz Derrevar

The staring faces around her did little to help the swirling thoughts of her mind. Only further placing what the intrusive thoughts had offered in her time of reflection.

Scratching a spot on her brow that had not earned it as she tried to calm down.

The free hand moving to her mouth as her thumb became the next victim of her attentions. The point of her nail settled between her teeth as she looked past the items in the display. Looked through everything as her thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a familiar voice.

Eyes wide as she turned to see Gatz beside her.

She'd fethed off suddenly after they'd arrived, leaving Bri and Gatz wondering no doubt as his commentary sank in. Thumb not yet free as she grinned behind it. The foul mood seeming to evaporate.

Distract and deflect. Always avoid the issue huh?

"Mm. Difference is Bri can still look good giving someone a death glare and be magazine worthy." Humor plainly in abundance as she pondered the offer.

"Until I talk with Romi, I'm not up for my own stuff. But," The thumb finally freed as she waved a hand to the displayed items from Ossus. "Option three you get to listen to me ramble. I studied at Ossus before coming to Coruscant."

There was no pause between her mention of another option and her capitalizing on his presence.

"Friend and I painted the halls a few times even. Both temples. Had to, uh. Clean them after a certain Master found us. I don't think she was surprised after the third time." The memory of laughter and mischief bringing about a real smile as she stared. It felt like forever ago. And that likely meant the places had gotten a few coats of paint in that time. Or a decent washing at least.

A reminder of how something that seemed important to some could be easily forgotten and replaced by another.

"I miss how close we all were."

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

Ship: The Red Night
Weapons:
Tag: Lossa Darcuhl

Gatz was dimly aware of Briana's conversation with Romi. He was doing his best to tune her out, and to try and offer her just a small bit of privacy. Even so, he still caught bits and pieces of the conversation. Something about Brandyn. Something about a prophecy. But he shook his head free of those thoughts. They felt... very personal to Briana, much like how his trauma with Jedi Shadows was very personal to him.

She'd never gone digging for that. So he wouldn't go digging for this. Instead, he simply doubled his attention on Lossa, and frankly, she was a good distraction. Both from Briana's troubles, and his own.

"Mm. Difference is Bri can still look good giving someone a death glare and be magazine worthy."

"Don't sell yourself short. As soon as I spotted you, it was like you were the only woman in the room."

He was here to lend a friendly ear, not flirt. But Gatz supposed old habits died hard. And... well, what he'd said was true, from a certain point of view (his own).

Lossa jumped into a short explanation of her history, and Gatz found himself following along and making mental notes of things: she'd originally trained on Ossus, she liked to paint, she was a troublemaker—though, he'd long since picked up on that one. And... she sounded a little lonely, as she mentioned how much she missed her old friends. That struck a deep chord in Gatz.

He knew all too well what it was like to be lonely.

"I get that," he said quietly, "I grew up in the Temple on Coruscant—in the creche. The boys and I there got along just fine, and maybe we made a little trouble from time to time. Then I... left. Sometimes I wonder where they're all at. Wonder if they even remember me. I'd give up a lot to go back to those days, when things were simple and happy."