Cherry Bomb
TAGS:
Colette
She insisted on linking up with the Naboo Order after meeting with Jasper. Was it a good call to be clocking in already? She wasn't sure, but lately she wasn't sure of many things. Nightmares still plagued her, shadows in the corner of her vision still made her jump. She told herself that it was nothing, that she was fine to be in the field again. Jasper insisted that she wasn't, he was usually right about these sort of things.
She pressed on in any case.
The New Jedi Order was long gone, the second home she ever had was up in flames. First it was Kashyyyk, then Coruscant, now she stood in yet another temple surrounded by unfamiliar people. Her reception was as polite as one could expect, though nobody seemed too sure of what to make of the ragged Jedi. Her hair had grown back a bit, at least reaching her neck again, but scars still littered her body and her cheeks had yet to regain their puffy nature. Her robes were brand new, courtesy of Jasper, but the Zabrak wearing them looked weathered. If it wasn't for the lightsaber on her belt, they would likely have thought her a beggar or something. They told her that the grandmaster was busy but a council member would meet with her.
Many unfamiliar faces. Strangers surrounded her. A reminder of how few of them remained.
She excused herself and took up residence in one of the meditation chambers... at least, she figured that was the purpose. Everything was lively and serene on Naboo, nothing had changed in the twenty years since her last visit as a padawan. The silence was getting to her as the waiting dragged on. It probably wasn't too long of a wait, but she felt as if it was taking hours. She dug through her handful of belongings and pulled her old guitar from its weathered case. It looked like its owner, beaten and battered with more scratches than was probably acceptable. But it still played true and it held firm.
Her role model...
Seated on one of the benches, Ara's calloused fingers danced along the strings as she decided on a tune. She decided on an old tune she always came back to. But her notes were wrong. A melancholy tune meant to invoke certain emotions came out harsh and angry, adding to the growing frustration within the Knight. Grief, guilt, rage, regret, her heart poured into her music and it could be heard. She finally stopped as a tear hit the guitar and drew her attention from the instrument. A breath, a wipe at her eyes, she composed herself and started again. Slowly she got back into what it was supposed to sound like.