Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Remodeling (Open to Jedi)

Hannah, The Cog Girl
Location: Jedi Praxeum
Status: Curious
Equipment: Heavy Coat, and Patched Armor Plates

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With careful and wary glances, Hannah felt uncomfortable inside a Space Station, not that the station itself caused her any qualms but the mere fact that the vacuum of space laid behind the steel hull of the very Station meant to keep the dangers of space away from her. Nothing to worry about, nothing to worry about. Repetition had been told to her that it reinforces beliefs and facts, so now she hoped that it would quell her slight worry as she continued her impromptu tour of the station. Her tail swayed violently to one side to the other, and as the constant change of weight direction from her tail, Hannah's arm shot backwards and grabbed hold of her tail.

Now with her own minor annoyance dealt with, she gave herself time to focus on the strangeness of the idea to hold any sort of important facility in the void of space. The irregular sensation in her mind brought Hannah's attention to the growth of new Force presences, the weight of it almost overwhelmed the fledgling Force User as she attempted to push back against the pressure she felt. She turned her body around and found another large hallway and with no sound of footsteps or voices, Hannah quickly walked in the empty hallways. Her footsteps echoed and filled the hall as she continued to both explore and handle her anxiety that she now felt growing.

Steady Cog Girl, steady, you just need to breathe once and breathe out. Her heavy footsteps and low whirl of her cybernetics slowly filled the air around her too, and Hannah took small comfort with the familiar sound, something she akin to peace.
 
The bad thing about space stations was that they were like crowded cities.

That is, it was just a bunch of people cloistered together in a small amount of space.

As such, the young Anzat's mental shielding was at maximum, in order to keep the errant thoughts and stray emotions from plowing the empathic youngling over. On a world like Corellia, outside of Coronet City, it had never been an issue. Sor-Jan was from a sleepy little sliver of nowhere that was known as Bela Vistal. The only people's thoughts or emotions he'd known growing up had been his adoptive parents. Their closest neighbors had been acres away.

When the Jedi had come and taken him, things had changed. Overnight, the inherently telepathic youngling had been transplanted to a crowded city where billions resided in layers upon layers of strata, occupying the same space. It had taken weeks before the Jedi had succeeded in teaching the boy how to block out all of those voices. And then years before he'd mastered that ability.

People could drive you mad if you let them. Thoughts. Voices. Doubts. Fears. Emotions that were not your own. But he was Anzat, telepathy was as natural to him as breathing. And for just as basic of a biological need, even if for a somewhat more nefarious purpose. Telepathy was the means by which his species hunted sapient organisms. But Sor-Jan was still a child. He tried to block out the thought of that as much as he did the swirling miasma of consciousness that permeated the multitude of minds occupying the station.

His ears of course, worked just fine.

The low whirl of cybernetic servomotors created a faint, but discernible hum in the air. Glancing around, the tow-headed child turned his head and found himself looking up at a young woman that he'd have been hard-pressed to describe in terms that might have been clearly understood.

He'd spent close to fifty years out on the Outer Rim. He'd seen a lot of strange things, even some things he couldn't explain, but nothing that had prepared him for the sight of a cyborg chick sporting a set of mecha-horns and a mecha-tail.

What species was that?

Well, only one way to stop being strangers. "Hi," the youngling chirped brightly, turning around to face the taller mecha-girl.

"I like your horns."

Okay, so that last bit was random. Random youngling was random.

[member="Hannah"]
 
Hannah, The Cog Girl
Location: Jedi Praxeum
Status: Talking with [member="Sor-Jan Xantha"]
Equipment: Heavy Coat, and Patched Armor Plates

Hannah released her tail from her hand's grip and she now had both her arms crossed over her chest as she continued to walk, her eyes jumped from one side to the next though as she continued to walk into different hallways. She had to give the Station builder's credit of course, if they had to create something in the vacuum of space and not on a planet's surface, they needed to make the place huge. And huge this place is, Hannah mused as her head tilted to the side at the sound of a new noise, a different presence. Who-?

Before she could prepare herself a voice came up and she nearly doubled back but her tail swung downwards and both held her back and up. While she could treat her tail as some sort of a brake, it still gave her slight embarrassment that she did not notice the small human in front of her, and if her cheeks could redden they would have right there. Oh. Speech, of course, her mouth whirled open and quickly closed as no sound came out as Hannah realized she hadn't actually thought of what to respond with to the small human in front of her. Or Little Person?

"Hello," Hannah finally managed to sound out, she gently reached over on top of her head to run her left hand over her cybernetic implants where her horns should had been. "Huh, um. Thanks? Someone implanted these on without telling me." Hannah explained, a bit nonchalantly as she let her tail sway back and forth. "People call me Hannah, and yourself?" She asked. Well, I call myself Hannah, haven't really met enough beings to actually call me by my name yet.
 
Implanted without telling... what?

The youngling just blinked. Then a second time. "That doesn't sound very nice," the boy uttered finally. Even still, the cybernetic horn-things looked very astral.

Her name almost caused him to do a double take. For a woman whose species he couldn't place, her name was close to a Corellian one. "Hi, Hannah. I'm Sor-Jan," the child chirped brightly.

Yes, he'd totally forgotten that he was supposed to be looking for a hyperdrive motivator. The struggle was real with a youngling attention span. And right now, that attention span was preoccupied with cybernetic horns.

"Uh, people call me lots of things. Mostly obnoxious," the youngling knight relayed, pausing a moment to think about it. THere was also menace, and several things that [member="Julius Sedaire"] had been known to use to refer to him, but those weren't really meant for polite company.

"But you can call me SJ."

[member="Hannah"]
 
Hannah, The Cog Girl
Location: Jedi Praxeum
Status: Talking with [member="Sor-Jan Xantha"]

Equipment: Heavy Coat, and Patched Armor Plates

Nice? Hannah wondered, a lot actually, about why the things done to her happened, but overall there had been very little to find and less to even go on. Even my name, is, She only shrugged towards Sor-Jan with a sympathetic expression. She mouthed out his name, but the pronunciation felt foreign "-Soo, Sor-Ja-Jan," Even as she attempted to spell out the name in her head, Hannah felt certain that she added too many letters for the name to make sense.

Hannah moved closer to him, she slowly drew closer and with her bright red eyes she closely examined him, "-Obnoxious, extremely unpleasant, distasteful, and unpleasant. This does not seem something I can scan for or sense." Hannah explained, to mostly herself, "-Even so, my cybernetics do allow me to do more things than with what horns I would have had," She explained.

With a small moment of concentration, Hannah moved her cybernetic horns back and forth, small whirl sounds and with a rather amused expression Hannah returned them back to their normal state. Something on the Data-Slate I recovered said something about increased sensory range if I had them in a certain position. Hannah mentally shrugged as she leaned backwards on her tail, as if her tail was a chair she crossed her arms over her chest and gestured towards Sor-Jan.

"You a Jedi among here SJ?" She asked intently.
 
"You a Jedi among here SJ?"

Such an innocent question. Such a nostalgic bit of reverie that came with it. Memories of good friends, long gone. Thisspiasians. Twi'leks. Grans.

There was a certain sadness in his eyes as he smiled up at the strange girl. "All my life," the Corellian boy answered simply. Once, he would have been proud to say so. Now, he seemed almost melancholy to consider it.

So many dark times. All their progress undone, as if they were forever taking just one step forward and two steps back.

"Well, not, like, here here," the youngling amended, with a tilt of his head. Arkania wasn't unheard of, certainly. But Sor-Jan had spent most of his time as a Jedi on Coruscant. And, in the more recent time, Laekia and Voss. "I was once a member of the Silver Jedi," the boy added, glancing back up at the girl. "These days, I just sort of go where the solar wind takes me."

Just a leaf on the wind.

It was a predisposition to wanderlust that he could credit his master with instilling in him. And it had gotten him in trouble more times than he could count.

Always before, he'd relied on the idea that the Jedi would be there to pull him out of the fire. To have his back. Because they always had.

And then Mandalore had happened. And it hadn't been the Jedi coming to his rescue. He supposed that he could have gone to [member="Thurion Heavenshield"] and asked where were you?

But would the answer have changed anything? Sor-Jan and the Silver Jedi had traveled in two different directions. And Sor-Jan had done what he did best, ventured out into the Rim and become lost. Lost in the Corporate Sector. Lost in the Underground Lost in the Confederacy. Now, he'd been lost for so long that he was certain he had no idea what he'd been looking for when this journey had begun.

"What about you, Hannah?"

[member="Hannah"]
 
Hannah, The Cog Girl
Location: Jedi Praxeum
Status: Talking with [member="Sor-Jan Xantha"]
Equipment: Heavy Coat, and Patched Armor Plates

Hannah gave Sor-Jan a concerned look but as he explained further she nodded and stood back up, now with her tail free to sway left to right. All his life? She wondered how long such a life the young boy had lived already, but the real astonishment was how he said with all certainty of what and who he called himself. A Jedi.

With her arms crossed over her chest, she pointed at Sor-Jan with her tail, "-You know who you are and what you are." She commentated with a sympathetic tone. Her smile returned, a warm smile from rather cold steel cheeks.

She had heard of a particular poem once, similar to how Sor-Jan allows the Galaxy to determine his next path, the poem made the comment of people who ran after what they cannot hope to ever achieve. To Chase the Wind on a Windy Day. Or perhaps the right path will show up.

Hannah pondered on Sor-Jan's last question, her eyes glanced upwards towards the ceiling as she hummed to herself in attempt to stall for some time. After she had finally managed to gain her freedom, the silence worried her and often her mouth would begin to hum or whistle to fill up any silence. "-I only recently discovered my inherent abilities with the Force," Her hand reached and rubbed the back of her neck once again, an embarrassed laugh whirled out of her mouth, "-Even my name is something new to me, I'm not even sure if it was supposed to be pronounced in such a way," Hannah explained.

Though with a shrug, "-I would like to know who I am, and I believe the Jedi may provide me the answer." She answered honestly, her tail swayed a tad faster in distress as her uncertainty climbed higher within her.
 
The tow-headed youngling just blinked.

That someone would be seeking out the Jedi was strange to him. Granted, it was a rather common narrative. Several of his more recent padawans had come seeking the path of the Jedi.

In Sor-Jan's day, the Jedi sought out Force Sensitives, for whom the life of the Jedi had been all but compulsory. Sor-Jan had been with the Jedi from the time he'd been a toddler, taken from his adoptive parents on Corellia to the Jedi Temple on Coruscant. Where he'd lived until he'd reached the age that a Jedi Knight had taken him as a padawan learner, which had been the point at which some of his fellow younglings had joined the Jedi Service Corps or the Antarian Rangers as alternatives to continuing their training as Jedi. Even among those who had been padawans, Sor-Jan was one of a handful who'd completed the trials to become a Jedi Knight.

Many had been tested. Few were chosen.

Now it seemed as though the opposite were true. While the war machine of the First Order or the Sith seemed to supply an endless terror of Darksiders, the Jedi were scattered and splintered across diverse and divisive groups seeded across the cosmos -- from which they each struggled to recruit or retain able talent.

So the fact that Hannah was seeking the Jedi was something of a miracle.

If he'd ever been given a choice, would Sor-Jan have sought the Jedi? Or stayed on Bela Vistal and had an ordinary life on Corellia? What would that have even looked like?

"You are a seeker," the boy remarked with a bright smile. Was there anyone who could help her on this journey?

If they were back in the Old Republic, he'd have said Yoda. Except this was several centuries too late for that.

[member="Corvus Raaf"]? [member="Rasu Gan"]? Were either of them still living?

"Among the Jedi, there is no more revered vocation than that of someone who seeks understanding," the youngling knight opined lightly. It was hardly his own philosophy. He was quoting Tyvokka. Who had likely been quoting or paraphrasing another Jedi.

When it came to sage Jedi quotations, there was no new material. It all got recycled to one extent or another.

"I hope that you find what you are looking for."

[member="Hannah"]
 

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