Pad-a-wans. Boil 'em, mash 'em, stick 'em in a- what?

[Tathra Khaeus]

Jaryn decide to politely excuse himself from the room. He had been ignored, three Jedi and he mentally waved at them and then someone he hasn't even directed it to was thrown at him by people too important to even acknowledge his existence. Did they know?! -How could they know? It wasn't my fault, I ran away.- It was clear many others had escaped or not even been at coruscant, but Jaryn felt as though they were all judging him, even by this point point sweat was rolling from brow to cheek, from cheek to neck and so on.

He had passed through what seemed to be the quarters of all the masters and students, safely arriving somewhere he could be along. He was tense, angry at himself and hurt that he had tried to communicate but was rejected. Would he always be rejected by them? These were questions part of him didn't want answered, the Master stomped about as he ripped his helmet from his face and set it aside. His movements were rigid and restrained, but his mind was in tatters. He fell back into a bench, his arms outstretched across the edge of the table as he rested his physical body and allowed his mind to ponder.

This guilt he felt, it was like something bad he ate living in his stomach, he made the wrong choice. It clung to him like a shadow and hung over him like a cloud, it was at this moment he sat forward and allowed one of his two blades to flow to his left hand through the use of telekinesis. If anything made Jaryn feel better, feel more confident; it was training and actual combat. He enjoyed so much to the point it made his question his identity. This was why he specifically carried two blades, a red and blue. To remind himself he was grey, to remind himself nothing was ever as simple as good and bad.

He ignited the blade, it's blue hue filling up the shadows and dim lighted area around him, he slimmed the blade in his hand and strikes down a illusional foe and practiced a few simple movements, but as the moments passed by his blade work became more complex. Soon, Jaryn had burst into a flurry of movement as he ignited the second blade and began to implicate its use into his practice. Jaryn adapted his mastery of Jar'Kai and knowledge of Ataru into tiring the entirely of his body into a weapon. Flips, kicks and leaps whilst spinning and striking down with his blades in a variety of directions.

However, Jaryn had never had an audience before. At least never someone he wasn't attacking, Jaryn got so sucked into his practice that he most likely wouldn't notice any spectators until he was finished.

Upon such an arrival, Jaryn was beginning to move at a sideways angle whilst holding his blue blade in a high grip and his red blade behind him in a reversed grip, then as he took another step forward he swung the blue blade at a downward angle and at that moment brought his feet up into a jumping stance before using the momentum of the swing to spin his body around in rotation of his body and feet which brought the red blade and his right side forward, and began to spin the blade in opposing diagonals and the. Flipped the blade the blade from backhand to forward and stabbed the blade forward before dropping down to one knee and whilst holding g the red blade in that exact position and tucking his left arm up into his chest so that the blade blade crossed his chest in correlation wit the red blade that was now positioned at his right shoulder and at the moment his body was half turned in the direction of red blade he leaped into the air and slashed down with both blades in quick succession one after the other before flipping forward and spinning both blades into a vertical lock in front of his chest. Surprisingly, he hasn't broke a sweat. He was used to such physically demanding fights.

He deactivated both blades and placed the blue Saber back in its respective holster, he held the red tightly in his grasp and contemplated other Jedi's thoughts on the use of such a thing, however it was at that point he thought he noticed maybe one or two people watching him. -Kark-

 

[Kiskla Grayson-Matteo]

As much as Avalore didn’t like the idea of talking about her experiences, Kiskla didn’t like being denied them. For someone who could be so mature, she was also the counter opposite when things didn’t go quite as planned. So, when the knight awkwardly excused herself, the blonde let her go, but bit the inside of her lip to refrain from speaking aloud on the matter. Blunt was efficient.

“Lesson learned — that I s’pose both parties have to be agreeable to a discussion. Right..” she paused, reflecting on [member="Avalore Eden"]’s suggestion to speak with the deadpan Knight “-Hal?” It wasn’t so much in words, as it was in action and ethereal senses. They both seemed clean, their ethereal echoes not as sodden with darkness as they could have been.

“You returned with Knight Eden from The Empress systems. How are you faring with The Order so far?

Anything you’d like to discuss?”

[member="Hal Terrano"]​

 

[Avalore Eden]

Avalore was very aware of the closeness Stali maintained, physically, and did her best not to lose herself in the very distinct scent of the man. Not here, not now. Maybe some other place, some other time. Who knew.

The Healer swallowed, brow knitting upwards at his tease. Yes, the Grandmaster made her uncomfortable. No, she didn't know why. Likely it had to do with the fact that Avalore Eden paled in comparison to what was, purportedly, the epitome of Jedi and Lightside and all things righteous. She couldn't hold a thumb to the woman's achievements in any way, never would either. Couldn't compare herself on any level. The mere presence of [member="Kiskla Grayson"] was a firm reminder that Avalore never would really amount to anything so grand.

Stali was walking away now and she watched him with a frown, lingering by his door. Not out of want to stay, but simply rooted to the spot by the weight of her own insecurities.

Eventually she moved, and yes, she did follow. Avalore Eden was simple as she was most-times predictable. She was also only human, and not even an enigmatic one. Pragmatic, maybe.

She drew next to the man as he strolled, arms clasped at her sides against the emotional frigidity of the Temple, "You are better looking than Brett Braker," Ava admitted, chasing the comment with a wane and fleeting smirk.


LUNCH - SOMEWHERE
(away from prying eyes and ears)

This was, perhaps, how Avalore Eden and [member="Marcello Matteo"] would one day become the best of friends: through food. If there was one thing that had yet to change since her pregnancy, it was that she found a wonderful comfort in eating, and she wasn't picky either.

Sitting across from Stali, full plates before them, Avalore reached for a fork and began helping herself completely unabashed. Her appetited had certainly undergone some serious discipline while serving as a POW within the clutches of the Sith - what meals they offered were bland, infrequent, and small. Enough to sustain, but never close to satiating. Still, today, her meal was decidedly minimal compared to the usual, not that Stali had ever seen her do anything but down a bottle of whiskey. Avalore found she had to pace herself. One couldn't simply indulge after a month-long fast without getting absurdly sick.

In between bites she spared glances at Stali, still unsure if he seemed unusually reticent or not. He certainly hadn't been overly talkative in their first encounter, other than to ask questions and offer condolences. Her guess was that he, along with most people lately, was ladened with a lot of things to think about considering the war and it's consequences.

Frowning slightly, she paused, giving the man a concerned look mired by curiosity, "Who...was it you saw earlier in the jungle? Was it even anyone at all?"

[member="Meeristali Peradun"]

 

[Meeristali Peradun]

When was the last time he'd eaten somewhere that wasn't the mess hall or out in the wild? A warm meal, in a somewhat more private locale was a nice change of pace, considering how much had happened, how much was on his mind. In fact, it was those very things that he was mulling over as he chewed contemplatively, so caught up in his thoughts that he almost missed Ava's query. Oranges flicked upward and he stopped chewing, looking at her for a rather long ten seconds before placing the fork back on the plate with minimal clinking, and continuing to chew for another few workings so as to swallow comfortably.

"Marakai," he began, more flatly than intended, his next words having more shape; a twinge of guarded emotion, "Mara is leaving the Republic. She has lost all faith in it."

He laced his fingers together, and rested his hands on the table, steepling the thumbs. The things that weren't said, how there had been no word for some time, only for her to show up to turn around and leave again. How she wasn't the only one in his life to have gone missing without a word said. How that made him worry, and at times hurt in ways he did not easily show.

"It's likely she's gone already."

[member="Avalore Eden"]

 

[Avalore Eden]

"Oh..." Avalore paused, forkful of food hovering over her plate. Her eyes searched her meal for a ticket of how to respond, but unfortunately only cookies and chocolates came with helpful advice. The Healer frowned - an expression she was becoming more and more comfortable with, which wasn't exactly true to Avalore Eden. Or maybe it was and she just didn't want to admit it.

She fought momentarily with an urge to question Mara's motives, and what good they would do in the end for her, and for the Republic. Yet, as she thought on it, this wasn't really her place to take a stand. Certainly Avalore was a proponent of the Republic, but only because she was too stubborn to let down on a promise she'd made to herself.

"I'm sorry, Stali," these words were spoken slowly as she set her fork back down to her plate, "did...did she tell you where she was going?"

[member="Meeristali Peradun"]

 

[Meeristali Peradun]

He blinked, breathed in shallow, and breathed out, a vague sigh running at the front. His head gave a calm, narrow shake.

"Not even she knows, apart from secluding herself in a cottage in neutral territory..." if he remembered the galactic maps right "...and a visit to Zeltros."

He unlaced his fingers, looked at his food, and picked up the fork again. He intended to dig in again; it would be so unlike him to leave a plate in any state other than cleaned of the food upon it. Instead, he put the fork down again, and lifted his eyes to return them to looking on the woman across the table from him.

"It's not only that," oh, so here we go, then, "my master has... vanished, as well."

His mouth assumed a grim line to match the now-serious tone of his face; he re-laced his fingers on the tabletop. Last he knew, Sardun had been on the ground, in the midst of the war effort. Next thing... nothing. Missing.

"If not for you being here, Avalore, I'd very well be in the position of starting over again, for the second time this year."

And there it was. If she hadn't come back, the number of people he'd taken into his acquaintance, into his friendship, and cared for to one degree or another... the leavings, the disappearances would exceed what he could count on one hand, in the mere handful of months since he had come to the Jedi. Things had been tumultuous from the very start. It was almost as if he had arrived just in time for war.

[member="Avalore Eden"]

 

[Avalore Eden]

So now their roles had swapped, the proverbial tables had turned.

Avalore's thoughts briefly traveled back to that short period of time following the disappearance of Mark Starkiller, her savior, her friend, her first Master. His fate still unknown to this day, still bringing the hot sting of hopeless heartbreak to her eyes, was something she often thought about. Sometimes she even dreamed about it.

Then Diana's death.

Giving up her baby.

One loss after another.

Her own lips drew thing as she looked at the man's hands on the table, wanting ever so much to reach out and clasp her own around them. The table, however, felt a mile wide.

"I know... that feeling," she began, clearing her throat softly for the tightness forming there, "better than I should. It's like you have nothing. Like you don't even belong anymore. You're just lost at sea..."

But sometimes you find a place to away-anchor. Sometimes you get lucky and you stumble across old treasures you'd forgotten about.

Now she had Hal and Johnny. Now she had friends like Marcello and Ryan. Now she had a place to call home.

Something struck her then.

"...what were you learning with your Master?" Avalore queried, eyes lifting back to his face.

[member="Meeristali Peradun"]

 

[Meeristali Peradun]

That was without a doubt exactly what he had been feeling. Seeing her before him had been such an untold relief, but hearing of Mara's intentions, and watching her walk away from him set him back in that floating feeling of seemingly unyielding loss. Uncharacteristically, because of it... the food was forgotten, at least for now.

"Concealment... was really the only thing he taught me," he realized, but, "...but there were plans, prior to his disappearance."

That was a talk he'd initiated himself, after poring over materials in the archives, back on Tython, before everything had been moved, before the Sith had made further in-roads into the Republic's territory.

"I was to start my training with the lightsaber, yet with his frequent absences and now..."

He shook his head.

"...I've been finding my way back to how I managed before he took me under his guidance, and attempting to pursue the fulfillment of those plans, on my own. It's progress, but I can't discount the benefit of having a mentor."

[member="Avalore Eden"]

 

[Avalore Eden]

Avalore nodded, her eyes falling across the table as thoughts filled her head.

"Maybe...I could help. I mean, not me - I'm just a Healer, I never even managed to use a training saber. Younglings could disarm me without much trouble at all. I'm pretty useless for anything that doesn't have to do with ... well, being a Healer. But," there was some uncertainty present in her tone, "maybe I know someone who could help."

Marcello could help him, right? He was a warrior type and, so far as Avalore could recall, she hadn't seen him with any new Padawans since Knighting Ryan. Feth, even Ryan could help, though she hadn't seen him since their return from Coruscant. It made her wonder...

"That is ... if you want," she glanced back tentatively, "I don't want to be intrusive."

[member="Meeristali Peradun"]

 

[Meeristali Peradun]

His eyebrows rose as his head rose and eyes rose to meet hers again, some amusement at her slice of rambling evident in those eyes. There was something endearing about seeing and hearing a woman fumbling her own words.

"Well, for all intents and purposes, I've spent pretty well my entire short career as a Jedi left to my own devices, puttering along at my own pace, grasping at straws..."

A ghost of a smile tugged up only one corner of his mouth, for a moment. He'd not been on such unsure footing since he learned to walk as a cub! This Jedi business was still such uncharted territory, when put up against the strict conduct and routines of his prior occupation, and while the change was welcome it was still quite an adjustment.

"...help would be welcome, Avalore," he admitted, "and you can be as intrusive as you like."

With that, he picked up the fork, scooped up a forkful of lunch from the plate in front of him, and guided it into his waiting mouth.

[member="Avalore Eden"]

 

[Avalore Eden]

Avalore gave a slow, wane smile, "I'll see what I can do."

At least she knew where to find Marcello, which was fortunate for her. Where the man stayed when not at the Ossus Temple was anyone's guess, and certainly Avalore wasn't going to go asking the Grandmaster for her bedmate's whereabouts. Things were already quite awkward enough in regards to even talking to the woman, let along asking such private things.

They ate for a while, and the silence between them was not an uncomfortable one. It was the silence shared between company of understanding. They both seemed to appreciate the act of self-soothing over food, or at least this is what Avalore believed, and that was just fine with her.

When the pace slowed and the plates were not quite so burdened, the Healer reached for her drink and sat back with a sigh, quietly sipping, watching her companion.

"How did you come to join the Jedi?" a question she asked of most all Jedi she met at one point or another. It was quite interesting, the variety of stories she'd come to hear.

[member="Meeristali Peradun"]

 

[Meeristali Peradun]

"Thanks," he said after a mouthful, after which the comfortable silence settled in. A comfortable silence was one of the most contented positions to be in, in his mind, the silence of nature undisturbed making the top of that list that wasn't a list. He took another forkful and chewed thoughtfully, wondering how it was that Avalore might help. From there, on, his thoughts moved on to other considerations over the course of the meal.

After a time, the plates in differing states of emptiness, he sat back with his drink in hand. The meal was rather satiating, and the food had time to settle and digest as he sat there, drawing in liquid through the straw in his drink. After a particularly long sip and a swallow, he set the half-empty glass on the tabletop, and laced his fingers over his stomach.

"Well, I was out to track down Marakai - if it sounds like a theme, you're right in thinking so - after leaving home, myself, for reasons that only seem different at first blush from hers," he started, somewhat surprised at how easily the words came; Avalore was the first to hear this story, and Marakai simply knew that it had been only a matter of time. He looked at the woman across from him, and his tail loped around to rest over the wrist of his right hand. "But our reasons were very similar at the core, for leaving the homeworld behind: discrimination, prejudice, Avalore. Social ostracisation."

He shifted in his seat, sitting up only a titch.

"Felacatian society prides itself on purity, and places such high importance on mating and the production of offspring. Marakai's father... I guess you could call him my 'uncle', in that sense, was Shi'ido. And so, she was ridiculed virtually since the day she was born. As for me?"

He cracked a half of a smile at this.

"I find attractive both that which is capable of producing offspring and... that which is not, but I hid it well, and served since the age of fourteen until around eight months ago. Somehow my superiors found out, or suspected, and decided I wasn't their best marksman, or their brightest tactician anymore. 'Useless, wasteful activities' are frowned upon, and are apparently grounds for dishonourable discharge."

His smile turned rueful.

"When all was said and done, and my family had done everything short of disowning me, I left. I went out and traveled for a few months, before tracking down my cousin, and deciding that maybe these things that had made me faster, sharper, and stronger than my peers were worth a deeper look."

He shrugged, and found one of her feet under the table, nudging it with one of his own.

"So here I am now, months later, telling you all of this."

[member="Avalore Eden"]

 

[Avalore Eden]

Avalore listened attentively, an obvious curiosity in her expression for both the man sitting across the table and for his heritage. She knew next to nothing about Felacat and it's people. Most assuredly she had wondered quite often about this very subject during times that her own thoughts traveled to Stali. So here it was, plain and simple, a run-down of the human-felidae, complete with social stigma and societal flaws.

This was rather surprising, but not quite as surprising as the next bit of information shared.

So Stali was bi-sexual.

If Avalore thought ill of such a thing it did not show in her expression. Indeed, the woman took this news as though Stali had just told her the sky was blue or that her caffe that had just arrived would be hot. Pensive while adding cream and sugar, the corners of her lips twitched downwards as he continued. It was all rather sad, wasn't it? The man had effectively lost his family much like she had, only in a far less ...holocaust-flame-scene-memory, permanently dead sort of way. Who knew, perhaps he could never return - they might as well be dead, right? Avalore could relate, and for a moment she felt like she were Spencer Jacobs and had suddenly pulled her emotions and understanding to match, pitch perfect, Stali's wavelength.

Something nudged her foot, catching the Healer momentarily unawares, and her spoon clattered into the mug she'd been stirring. What on earth...? Oh.

Footsies? Really?

Brown eyes turned upwards in their sockets to stab the man with an accusatory glance, but the smirk that tugged her lips back up couldn't be helped. Avalore shifted in her seat, brows lofted, gaze sly but reserved. She was trying to be an adult, because it was so much easier to downgrade the awkward when she wasn't allowing the flippant teen-aged child in her mind to run things, "That's awful. I don't think I've heard a single Jedi-origins story yet that wasn't depressing on a level of-" he nudged her foot again and Ava immediately bit back a snort of laughter, one hand snaking forward to slap down onto the table by his plate, "I'm trying to be serious ..." brown eyes leveled with those presumptuous orange flecks. How very much a cat he was with that cool, coy smugness.

I can have an adult conversation ... Avalore thought to herself, but that doesn't mean I'm not thinking about other things.

"...I don't think I would have been brave enough to leave my family. That's awful that you had to make that decision. Family is about acceptance and understanding above all else. Or at least it's supposed to be ... what an old wive's tale."

[member="Meeristali Peradun"]

 

[Meeristali Peradun]

He smirked when those deep browns leveled with his citrine orbs, and laid one larger hand over her smaller one, curling fingers over the edge of it. How little he too knew about her, each piece of her history, her troubles coming slow and careful as if they were caught on a narrow edge, overlooking a precipice, thus far only drawn out when her guard was sufficiently loosened by the aid of liquid substance. He gave the hand a light squeeze, shaking his head.

"My family is here now, Avalore," he said, the playfulness still evident in his eyes, but subdued as he was still making some attempt at maturity himself before it would all devolve entirely, "with..."

He cleared his throat, and swallowed, swallowing words.

"...with the Jedi. As is yours."

And he released her hand, retracting his to the edge of the table, fingers curled over it. He looked down at those fingers for a moment or two, feeling the discomfort of self-imposed restraint before returning his gaze to the Healer to pose a question of his own, curious about whether he would get an answer to it or not without the liquid courage.

"I'm... happy you're back, Avalore. I am, but... where have you been?"

[member="Avalore Eden"]

 

[Avalore Eden]

Brow settling flat over her eyes again, the momentary lapse of words from the Felacatian didn't quite fly by unnoticed. The Healer gave him a closer look, gaze flickering from his hand upon hers and back to his face again, following his expression. What was that stumble there, she wondered. What words are you swallowing, Stali?

All thoughts of sophomoric foot-games beneath the table vanished the moment he released the pressure of his fingers from her hand. Suddenly everything ceased to be a fight for maturity - now they were in over their heads and she hadn't even taken a pre-emptive breath for the leap. His question sent her mentally reeling for the surface.

I don't want to be an adult anymore, somebody toss me a humorous life-ring. A lewd-joke-flotation device. Something. Anything.

But there was none to be had and all the light seemed to drain from her face.

"...oh..."

She withdrew her hand slowly back across the table, brown eyes taking a moment to connect with his again.

Now it was her turn to gently clear her throat, maybe change the subject or just ... very carefully skate over top of it.

"...like I said, I was on Empress Teta, assigned to a group of Padawans to help clear out a museum of art before the Sith destroyed it. We, uh, we were surrounded, at some point, and were taken hostage," Eden's eyes narrowed, her words quickened, "then I spent a month and a half in a dungeon cell of the Sith Palace on Coruscant as a prisoner of war, and then I was rescued. And now here I am, telling you this."

[member="Meeristali Peradun"]

 

[Meeristali Peradun]

He let out a deflationary sigh, blinking as his eyebrows lofted in surprise. And yet somehow he wasn't surprised much at all, given the current climate of war... just that it was surprising hearing the fact that it happened put into words; the surprise covered over the concern he felt at her well-being, despite that she was right in front of him, if a little thinner than the last time he'd seen her. At least now he knew why.

"You win," he said, lifting himself to sit up and fold his arms over the table in front of him, "no, not win, this isn't a contest, but..."

A smaller smile appeared on his face. Time to move on from this.

"...well, what do you say we head back to the temple..."

He nudged at her foot again, that smile turning to a sly grin, as he unfolded his arms to lean and reach across the table, resting his chin on the other arm and looking up at her; his hand laid open and waiting.

"...and face the rest of our lives, together?"

A gesture, saying: Neither of us is alone, with each other.

[member="Avalore Eden"]

 

[Avalore Eden]

Avalore eyed that hand, that open invitation, and looked upon it unsmiling, brows knitting upwards in an acute hint of wariness.

Together? What did that mean? Were they a thing now? Or was this something more existential? Was he trying to grasp at their solidarity of one-ness in facing the challenges of the galaxy? Were they supposed to hold hands? Was she supposed to call and visit him on a regular basis? What if she just ran away right now, back to Cato, and tried to forget this ever happened?

No, she absolutely wouldn't do that. Avalore might be many things, but a coward wasn't one of them unless it involved fire. Or Sith. Or Sith with fire. That shit is scary.

Eventually the Healer shut down production on all that over-thinking and slowly reached forward to take his hand, a decision she immediately felt good about.

Avalore smiled faintly, nodded, then following Stali's lead got up from her seat and walked out at his side.

 

[Meeristali Peradun]

Whatever was meant by the outstretched hand wasn't expanded upon further by word or action. It just was, and what it was could be a very plain thing. Support... the want to be closer, connected perhaps, but in his mind words took precedence where stating the way things were was concerned.

Every step of the way, every change in the way things progressed was marked by steady patience and by one simple question, varied in the asking, but the same in what information it begged: is this what you want, Avalorrre? He might take the lead, but he gave control freely. Was this what he wanted? Of course. Every step of it that was granted him, he took.

"What fills your days, now that you're free?" he asked after several minutes walking in silence, "where do you spend your time, Avalore?"

These were somewhat similar to the questions he asked himself - where was he going, now? His time had thankfully been filled with a mission here, a journey there, and his training stagnant for a swath of time until recently.

[member="Avalore Eden"]

 

[Avalore Eden]

How long had it been since Avalore had walked beside a man, hand in hand?

"Cato Neimoidia, mostly," the answer came rather easily despite the fact that she had only been free for little more than a week or so, "I own the Jedi Temple there now - Diana left it to me in her will," she sighed, "it's just me and one other there, so we came here to take in some Padawans, help lighten the load off the Ossus Masters a bit, and give us something more to do. I'm not really sure I'm the right person to be teaching any Padawans, but if I don't do something then I'll likely go crazy from the isolation."

[member="Meeristali Peradun"]

 

[Meeristali Peradun]

His eyebrows ticked upward in mild surprise, then settled again.

"You own a temple..." he drew out, looking to the side and down to her, his expression showing signs that he was at least a little bit impressed, a smile on his lips, a slight tease in his voice, "...Avalore, you're full of surprises today. And I'm sure you're a great master."

Then his expression turned thoughtful, and Meeristali turned his citric gaze to the path ahead, the Ossus temple standing tall, imposing over the trees.

"If only I could do something to help."

He was aware of the severe imbalance between the padawans, and the knights and masters. Acutely aware, ever since it had become deeply apparent that he was without once again, himself. He shook his head, a small laugh escaping him; he gently squeezed the hand he held.

"In time. Soon enough."

Not that it was for certain, but... soon enough.

[member="Avalore Eden"]