With an open invitation such as your pinned post, I couldn't resist. At your leisure, if you like, Grandmaster
New to Voss and the Jedi Order as a whole, but not to her place in the Force, Tempest Yore had a day off from Master Syn's physical training, so she decided to break out of the barracks' scene, to finally venture through the Silver Temple. She walked around inside for hours, eager to not miss one single twist to its halls, nor a staircase. She quickly dubbed it a representation to a grand celestial castle in her mind's eye. She found it beautiful, and she was justifiably captivated.
She had first explored the Stores of the Resident Apothecary on the ground floor, where she picked up a stash of a rare herbal tea. It had been her father's favorite. She is so surprised to have discovered it. After a few hours of exploration, she couldn't admit it aloud to anyone whom she passed, and it would have been terrible should she be discovered, but trekking throughout the myriad of rooms, ups and downs, lefts and rights, has this young Jedi Padawan utterly disoriented! In short...lost.
She knew not wether she was high in the tiers, or low in the catacombs. Spotting another living soul in this particular area, was quite sparse. At one point, she simply felt compelled to continue; go figure. Tempest figured she had to come upon turning about at some point! She will either hit an outer wall with a window where she can reclaim her bearings, the top attic floor, or the very bottom at some point!
She ducked unseen into an atypical slender corridor and stopped abruptly in her tracks outside a door which was titled with Grandmaster. Stories she had been told long ago by her Father flashed in her memory. Her last Master only compiled upon her intrigue. She reached out to knock, yet suddenly froze. 'Should I?' It is not common for Tempest to feel her heart suddenly in her throat. It isn't every day she meets someone who only a moment before was merely legend!
'Hey! Maybe its just a door, Tempest! Maybe its all a ruse? To keep people in line? It very well could be, Tempest! You will never find out if you pass out; an excellent self defense mechanism, by the way, Tempest!'
Tempest, one usually cool and confident, caught her breath again, and a queer smirk broke across her face. "Alright, Tempest...and Master Syn is centuries old!" she whispered to herself, bringing her expectations back to logical! The Grandmaster is not some phantom demigodd, no more than her new Master, a Miraluka, could possibly be 'Centuries' old, as he tells her!
She knocked upon the door and took a step back, clicking the heels of her ankle boots against the floor. She quickly dropped her gaze to her knee length dress and matching coat. Nothing to straighten up, as usual. Her petticoat unruffled, she tugged lightly at her belted waistline before patting down her collar. Her hat? Just fine. Hair? Likely helpless about now, she tucked stray strands behind her ears. Then juggling the box of tea from arm to arm, she smoothed her white gloves over her small hands.
'The moment of truth is at hand! Legend shall be tied to a face! Provided he exists and is in!'