Micah Talith
Draith Shamalain
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zf10YM6zAOo
Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos
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Star Wars Chaos : The New Generation
- Thread starter Micah Talith
- Start date
Micah Talith
Draith Shamalain
[member="Théodred Heavenshield"] [member="Roshki Belawiiks"] @Bounce @Mark Sage [member="Cassia Edric"] [member="Zak Dymo"] [member="Daiya"] [member="Aela Talith"] [member="Maleah Talith"] [member="Kaili Talith"] [member="Mara"] Merrill ([member="Jorus Merrill"])
Region: Mid Rim
Sector: Ottega Sector
System:: Ottega System
Planet:: Ithor -- Former Mandalorian Territories. Neutral Area
Ithor was the fourth planet located in the Ottega System of the Mid Rim. Originally one of the oldest members of the United Mandalorian Clans, it was a planet full of lush life, having long since established by the New Galaxy Reconstruction Project years before the spread of the Gulag Virus.
The Ithorians themselves along with the help of the Mandalorians, have rebuilt the great floating cities that did not harm the surface, which they considered sacred. However, in the wake of the Netherworld Event and the war between the One Sith, Ithor found itself rooted in deep reconstruction efforts and relief aide around the surrounding sectors.
It is for this reason that Jedi Master Kira Talith, along with her children, have come to the planet to lend a helping hand.
Micah Draith Shamalain Talith, the only son of Kira and Soliael Talith, would find this a great opportunity to hopefully get out of the nagging clutches of his three sisters.
The bright light of the Ottegga sun would flare brightly against his citrine eyes, causing him to scrunch up his face with a hand held up to block it. Tousled locks of dirty blonde and brown hair would stick in all different types of directions, almost as if a nerf had decided to lick his head for sport or to test a new meal.
He wore standard breeches under a tanned leather vest; an amalgam of semi tribal attire of his Kiffar heritage along that of the Onderon Beast Riders -- with a bit of the robes his mother was prone to wearing tossed in. He had leather bracers, almost gauntlets really, crafted by his father [member="Soliael Devin Talith"] to help make climbing easier.
At his hip a small lightsaber hilt would be clipped. Well, it was more like a wooden stick of sorts. It was made from the wood of the Brylark Tree, during one of the visits to Kashyyyk with his father to a Wookiee tribe he had good rapport with. It was this trip that beheld the construction of his first saber -- even if the power setting was locked at training strength by his father. Rules had it that it will remain that way until he was twelve... which at ten meant he had two more years to go.
[member="Aela Talith"], however, already had hers unlocked. His face would scrunch up in mild annoyance.
A gust of wind would send his hair ruffling, along with a few bits of leaves and the like as he went wandering from the busy area of commerce they were in.
He may or may not have been told to stay within the city limits... buuuuuuuuuut....
Where was the fun in that?!
Aela Talith
The Righteous
Aela sat upon a small perch just outside the city limits.
Unlike her younger brother she had been afforded a little bit of wiggle room in where she was allowed to go. Mother had given her some trust now that she was fourteen years old. The lightsaber at her belt signified that she was more than ready to travel and both Kira and Soliael and stated that she was now allowed to make her own decisions in regards to where she went.
Of course there were still some restrictions on that. She couldn't leave the planet, she couldn't go anywhere with strangers, and she was most definitely not allowed to try and fly a speeder somewhere.
They were simple rules really, and they made a lot of sense to her.
A strong gust of wind ruffled Aela's hair back and forth, long strands of blonde, partially tied into a bun, flowed over her back and fell into her face. A puff of air passed out of her lips to flip her bangs away. She smiled slightly as the light breeze carried the scent of Bafforr Pollen into her nose, the pleasant aroma tickling her nose.
She didn't know a lot about Bafforr trees, but mother had told her some.
In the distance she could see a herd of reeks wandering towards a cluster of the intelligent fauna, the great lumbering beasts feeding upon the Bafforr trees leaves.
A smile crossed her lips as she watched the calm scene, her hands gently folded in her lap.
Unlike her younger brother she had been afforded a little bit of wiggle room in where she was allowed to go. Mother had given her some trust now that she was fourteen years old. The lightsaber at her belt signified that she was more than ready to travel and both Kira and Soliael and stated that she was now allowed to make her own decisions in regards to where she went.
Of course there were still some restrictions on that. She couldn't leave the planet, she couldn't go anywhere with strangers, and she was most definitely not allowed to try and fly a speeder somewhere.
They were simple rules really, and they made a lot of sense to her.
A strong gust of wind ruffled Aela's hair back and forth, long strands of blonde, partially tied into a bun, flowed over her back and fell into her face. A puff of air passed out of her lips to flip her bangs away. She smiled slightly as the light breeze carried the scent of Bafforr Pollen into her nose, the pleasant aroma tickling her nose.
She didn't know a lot about Bafforr trees, but mother had told her some.
In the distance she could see a herd of reeks wandering towards a cluster of the intelligent fauna, the great lumbering beasts feeding upon the Bafforr trees leaves.
A smile crossed her lips as she watched the calm scene, her hands gently folded in her lap.
Mara D'Lessio Merrill
The Lesser D'Lessio
The Wookiee, she decided, had ruined her chances with the Rebel Alliance.
Sure, it hadn't been anything Beyyr had done exactly. And he hadn't really said anything mean. But the Rebels had quietly shuffled her out not long after she'd finagled her way in with audacity and a lucky guess, and her gut said Beyyr was to blame. She'd confronted him about it, half an hour ago at the Bafforr replanting/emigration ceremony, while Ithorians argued politely in the background. The old ways had been lessened, some said, and something about forbidden surface and the price of securing a species. No Ithorian could forget what the word Vong meant. When Mara asked why the Vong were so important, the Ithorians just looked sad. She'd been asking a lot of questions, really, and maybe that was why Beyyr and her father had been short with her. "You said when you came back," her father had said, in that explainy, remindy tone she hated, "that you felt weird around them. You said they made you feel like they liked to be hated."
Which was true enough, in her very limited Rebel experience. It didn't mean she liked being reminded of it. Rebels should be better, she'd remembered saying, and part of her was still upset about the whole thing.
It was probably Beyyr's fault. Sure, they couldn't understand when he got snide, but she could, and anyways who liked being talked about in a different language to their face?
Mara decapitated weeds with a vengeance. Her training sword was brylark wood, perfectly weighted. She'd had it since she was six, almost four whole years now, and she could give it just the right whip-and-flick to take the head off pretty much anything planty. Dimly, she sensed others' emotions, but she was busy imagining Wookiee and Rebel faces on bobbing weed-heads. Swish, slash, snick.
[member="Micah Talith"] [member="Aela Talith"]
Sure, it hadn't been anything Beyyr had done exactly. And he hadn't really said anything mean. But the Rebels had quietly shuffled her out not long after she'd finagled her way in with audacity and a lucky guess, and her gut said Beyyr was to blame. She'd confronted him about it, half an hour ago at the Bafforr replanting/emigration ceremony, while Ithorians argued politely in the background. The old ways had been lessened, some said, and something about forbidden surface and the price of securing a species. No Ithorian could forget what the word Vong meant. When Mara asked why the Vong were so important, the Ithorians just looked sad. She'd been asking a lot of questions, really, and maybe that was why Beyyr and her father had been short with her. "You said when you came back," her father had said, in that explainy, remindy tone she hated, "that you felt weird around them. You said they made you feel like they liked to be hated."
Which was true enough, in her very limited Rebel experience. It didn't mean she liked being reminded of it. Rebels should be better, she'd remembered saying, and part of her was still upset about the whole thing.
It was probably Beyyr's fault. Sure, they couldn't understand when he got snide, but she could, and anyways who liked being talked about in a different language to their face?
Mara decapitated weeds with a vengeance. Her training sword was brylark wood, perfectly weighted. She'd had it since she was six, almost four whole years now, and she could give it just the right whip-and-flick to take the head off pretty much anything planty. Dimly, she sensed others' emotions, but she was busy imagining Wookiee and Rebel faces on bobbing weed-heads. Swish, slash, snick.
[member="Micah Talith"] [member="Aela Talith"]
OriginsoftheJedi
Active Member
Mood Music: https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=9byKBmZDDU8 (0-2:15)
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Mark Sage pushed a branch out of the way, pushing his way through the jungles of Ithor. It was a beautiful little planet, a relatively peaceful one.
Ever since the Netherworld Anomaly, it had left the galaxy in its wake in turmoil. Mark was here to help with reconstruction efforts. But, he had to get into the nearby city first. As a safety precaution, he'd landed his greeb Eta-2 class starfighter in a little valley a mile or less away from the city limits, so it'd be a bit of a walk to get where he needed to go. As he came over a rise, he was still surrounded by the usual brown and green hues that characterized these grasslands, but, off in the distance, he could see a silver glint: the city. Between him and the city though was a large field with some trees toward the center and beyond. Toward the center though, a herd of Ithorian reeks grazed. The species wasn't inherently dangerous or aggressive, but they defended their young fiercely. He'd have to make his way past them.
"Good thing I can deal with animals." he thought.
A few raised their heads to look at him, but they didn't seem that alarmed. He sent waves through the force, ones that he hoped would keep the animals calm. One particularly large individual moved in to take a closer look. Mark remained calm. He held his hand up for it to take a scent test from. It sniffed curiously.
"That's right." he said soothingly. "Easy girl."
The animal snorted. It lowered its head in submission. Mark had to take advantage of the situation. It certainly didn't happen every day. He slowly and cautiously moved his hand toward the animal's head. It snorted again, but still stayed its position. Mark laid a hand on its nose horn. It closed its eyes and let out a breath. Mark grinned and stroked the horn once. Then, he slowly backed away and moved on.
Once he made it to the edge of the clearing, he felt someone's presence around him. He grew cautious, looking around for any sign of anyone. Not a living soul.
Then, he looked up and noticed a girl sitting up in a tree. He jumped a bit at first glance. She couldn't have been much younger than himself, and a lightsaber hung from her belt, similar to his own. She felt force sensitive and, judging by the lightsaber at least, she seemed trained. She was probably a jedi in training just like himself given her age.
"Oh.. Hello there." he said a little hesitantly. Mark wasn't exactly the most outgoing of people, but, given the circumstances, he felt it was safe enough to give a greeting.
"Uh, how're you?"
[member="Aela Talith"]
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Mark Sage pushed a branch out of the way, pushing his way through the jungles of Ithor. It was a beautiful little planet, a relatively peaceful one.
Ever since the Netherworld Anomaly, it had left the galaxy in its wake in turmoil. Mark was here to help with reconstruction efforts. But, he had to get into the nearby city first. As a safety precaution, he'd landed his greeb Eta-2 class starfighter in a little valley a mile or less away from the city limits, so it'd be a bit of a walk to get where he needed to go. As he came over a rise, he was still surrounded by the usual brown and green hues that characterized these grasslands, but, off in the distance, he could see a silver glint: the city. Between him and the city though was a large field with some trees toward the center and beyond. Toward the center though, a herd of Ithorian reeks grazed. The species wasn't inherently dangerous or aggressive, but they defended their young fiercely. He'd have to make his way past them.
"Good thing I can deal with animals." he thought.
A few raised their heads to look at him, but they didn't seem that alarmed. He sent waves through the force, ones that he hoped would keep the animals calm. One particularly large individual moved in to take a closer look. Mark remained calm. He held his hand up for it to take a scent test from. It sniffed curiously.
"That's right." he said soothingly. "Easy girl."
The animal snorted. It lowered its head in submission. Mark had to take advantage of the situation. It certainly didn't happen every day. He slowly and cautiously moved his hand toward the animal's head. It snorted again, but still stayed its position. Mark laid a hand on its nose horn. It closed its eyes and let out a breath. Mark grinned and stroked the horn once. Then, he slowly backed away and moved on.
Once he made it to the edge of the clearing, he felt someone's presence around him. He grew cautious, looking around for any sign of anyone. Not a living soul.
Then, he looked up and noticed a girl sitting up in a tree. He jumped a bit at first glance. She couldn't have been much younger than himself, and a lightsaber hung from her belt, similar to his own. She felt force sensitive and, judging by the lightsaber at least, she seemed trained. She was probably a jedi in training just like himself given her age.
"Oh.. Hello there." he said a little hesitantly. Mark wasn't exactly the most outgoing of people, but, given the circumstances, he felt it was safe enough to give a greeting.
"Uh, how're you?"
[member="Aela Talith"]
Rodians.
@Anyone wandering in the forest
Dirty, cheating, and often times worth a lot of credits. A certain green, scaly fiend had made his way onto Ithor and set up an illegal trading ring of Reeks during the confusion of the long war with the One Sith and the chaos that ensued during and after the Galactic disappearances. Now, Ithorians...were also idiots and pacifists, and they only caught on to this scum's illegal trade a mere two weeks ago, sending what little information they had on the man through Mandalorian channels. But he wasn't here for their bounty.
Ralo Baft was a Galactic slave trader, and rumor had it he was trading not only Reeks and other fauna native to Ithor, but Ithorians as well. He scoffed at the idea. The kidnapping probably went something along the lines of, 'Come with me if you want to live!' with the Ithor nodding his or her head shakily and fearfully and following meekly behind the Rodian. Now, this wasn't to say Ithorians couldn't be great warriors if they cast the shackle of pacifism to the earth. He had known an Ithorian Mandalorian once. He was a strong man, with a booming voice, the armor looked a little strange though.
A snarl from the Anooba at his side snapped him back to the task at hand.
"What is it?" The beast sniffed the ground deliberately and its tail swayed back and forth hypnotically as it processed the smells and scents left behind by their prey. Shifting the rifle in his arm to a more comfortable position he sighed and closed his eyes, reaching out with the Force. It was strong in this place, the sense of peace and unity was strong , but there was a disturbance in the ecosystem, he could feel it. He peeled away from the Anooba and began walking deeper into the forest and offended, but understanding the Anooba bounded after him.
@Anyone wandering in the forest
Dirty, cheating, and often times worth a lot of credits. A certain green, scaly fiend had made his way onto Ithor and set up an illegal trading ring of Reeks during the confusion of the long war with the One Sith and the chaos that ensued during and after the Galactic disappearances. Now, Ithorians...were also idiots and pacifists, and they only caught on to this scum's illegal trade a mere two weeks ago, sending what little information they had on the man through Mandalorian channels. But he wasn't here for their bounty.
Ralo Baft was a Galactic slave trader, and rumor had it he was trading not only Reeks and other fauna native to Ithor, but Ithorians as well. He scoffed at the idea. The kidnapping probably went something along the lines of, 'Come with me if you want to live!' with the Ithor nodding his or her head shakily and fearfully and following meekly behind the Rodian. Now, this wasn't to say Ithorians couldn't be great warriors if they cast the shackle of pacifism to the earth. He had known an Ithorian Mandalorian once. He was a strong man, with a booming voice, the armor looked a little strange though.
A snarl from the Anooba at his side snapped him back to the task at hand.
"What is it?" The beast sniffed the ground deliberately and its tail swayed back and forth hypnotically as it processed the smells and scents left behind by their prey. Shifting the rifle in his arm to a more comfortable position he sighed and closed his eyes, reaching out with the Force. It was strong in this place, the sense of peace and unity was strong , but there was a disturbance in the ecosystem, he could feel it. He peeled away from the Anooba and began walking deeper into the forest and offended, but understanding the Anooba bounded after him.
Cassia Edric
Witchy Wanderer
It wasn’t often that the Edric family ventured away from their farmstead on Bestine IV, there was always work to be done, but it was the slow season. Cassia’s father had heard of the reconstruction efforts on Ithor, and granted the family a short leave from the farm to help. Those in the Edric family were not in the construction trade by any means, but they were all used to working with their hands.
Cassia was no stranger to long days, but even she needed a break every now and then. It seemed like a perfectly fitting time to explore this foreign world. She’d only heard tales of the famous Ithor Flora and Fauna, and was feeling eager to see it for herself. Cass took swift steps that brought her outside the city limits and into the lush woods.
Her blue eyes grew wide as she looked up at the towering trees, and the vast spread of greenery in front of her. She’d never seen anything like this; her eyes were used to the rocks and water of Bestine. As she walked, she was thankful that the terrain was soft and lush, a huge contrast to the jagged edges of her island home. Cass paused and looked back the way she came, she hoped she wouldn’t get lost… she was just a farm girl after all. With a shrug the moved on, adventuring wasn’t for the meek.
(Just a note: Cass hasn't trained in the ways of the force yet.)
Cassia was no stranger to long days, but even she needed a break every now and then. It seemed like a perfectly fitting time to explore this foreign world. She’d only heard tales of the famous Ithor Flora and Fauna, and was feeling eager to see it for herself. Cass took swift steps that brought her outside the city limits and into the lush woods.
Her blue eyes grew wide as she looked up at the towering trees, and the vast spread of greenery in front of her. She’d never seen anything like this; her eyes were used to the rocks and water of Bestine. As she walked, she was thankful that the terrain was soft and lush, a huge contrast to the jagged edges of her island home. Cass paused and looked back the way she came, she hoped she wouldn’t get lost… she was just a farm girl after all. With a shrug the moved on, adventuring wasn’t for the meek.
(Just a note: Cass hasn't trained in the ways of the force yet.)
Sor-Jan Xantha
Got Soup?
One thing Corellians prided themselves in was their shipbuilding skills. Clunky, boxy, and often described -- not lovingly -- as a bucket of bolts, Corellian engineering know-how had produced light freighters that could make point-five past lightspeed. No Corellian worth his name piloted anything that wasn't produced at a shipyard somewhere near the Five Brothers. Not Corellians. Not Selonians. Not the Drall. Up and down the hyperlanes, from the Core to the Outer Rim, Corellian was synonymous with spacer. And Corellian ships were the pride of its people.
They were also COLOSSAL pieces of crap.
Corellians didn't really like to talk about how untrustworthy Corellian engineering was, because Duros might be listening, but Sor-Jan was worried the secret might be out.
A pair of saddle brown boots jutted up from floor, legs akimbo as the young Jedi wormed his way into the crawl space that was too small for even him. How the kark did adults work on these? "Horizontal boosters?"
Who was he speaking to?
No one. The answer was no one. That's how insane it was trying to work on a YT-series freighter. It made people do strange things. Even talk to themselves.
"Alluvial dampers..? No, that's not it."
...and answer themselves, too.
Squirming, wiggling, wrestling, and otherwise looking about as awkward as was physically possible, the half-century old Anzat writhed free of the hole he'd fallen into. Upright once again, the tow-headed vagrant made his way through the tube-like corridors of the ship until he had snaked his way to the cockpit of the small freighter. As the doors slid aside, the child stretched up on his toes to flick a series of switches and bring up the main computer. Dials and switchboards came alive, the cockpit illuminated with consoles that were like an array of stars as a mechanical vibration could be felt as the Alderaan Queen came alive.
...and promptly went dark a moment later as everything promptly died.
Rearing up with one knee, the boy lashed out with a donkey kick that echoed loudly as it connected with the panel behind him. The electrical hum resumed, as the lights suddenly snapped back on. Slipping forward to the pilot's chair, the young-looking Jedi tried his hands at the controls.
Ship's computer on-line? Check.
Thruster control?
A hydraulic line ruptured as he plied his hand to the lever, sending a burst of pressurized gas screaming as it shot out in the corridor behind him.
Quickly, the boy worked to shut everything back down. Which, turned out to be a lot simpler than he imagined, particularly since everything just kind of died. Not all at once. And not the way it was supposed to. Instead of cycling down, the ship gave a rather loud sputter. Like a corroborator that was choking.
And then the engines seized.
...and that sounded like something might have just fallen off, the boy realized, as the echo of a metallic clang echoed from within the docking bay.
This ship had gotten him to Ithor, but it sure as Sith wasn't getting him off it any time soon. With a sigh, the small Anzat just collapsed back into the pilot's chair. Maybe it was time to trade this thing in.
He wondered what Nubia Star Systems had in their current catalog...
...who was he kidding?
Sometimes being a Corellian was really a pain in the arse. Kicking up from out of the chair, the young Jedi snaked back through the ship to the entry ramp. Peering through the inside of the ship, the boy spotted the silvery metalic frame of a 2-1B medical droid. "Tell Three to guard the ship," the boy stated simply, adjusting the fit of his tunic that had become disheveled from the work on the Queen. "I need some air..." he explained, keying open the hatch.
"...and a parts store," he deadpanned, proceeding down the loading ramp.
The ship was berthed beside a busy market, which was bustling with activity. Farmers, hustlers, merchants, wanderers. Most were Ithorian, but you were just as likely to run into someone who wasn't. Duros. Gran. The boy even passed a pair of Tynnans as he made his way into the avenue packed with street vendors, tourists, residents, and everything in between.
At first glance, or even a second or third, the tow-headed boy looked like a human of about ten or so years. A little young to be anything more than a Jedi hopeful, though a lightsaber hung from his belt. He could be a padawan, though his hair wasn't braided. It wasn't even all that neat. Instead, it was in a bowl-cut that had been allowed to grow out into a shaggy mass of dirty blond hair. He wore an unbleached tunic over a pair of drab colored trousers, which were tucked into the tops of the saddle brown boots he wore.
There were green robes that went with this ensemble ordinarily, except Ithor was a little humid to be walking around wrapped up in a coarse blanket. So he left that folded up in his cabin on the Queen.
...okay so, no, it wasn't actually folded. It was on the floor. Somewhere.
He should probably toss it into the refresher, except it still passed the smell test. At least, the last time he'd checked.
Lost in a sea of adult like bodies, the small predator found he had to focus to try and block out the swell of emotion and thoughts, which bled through the crowd in random bursts of consciousness that were sometimes overwhelming. Crowds were always like that for telepaths, so in as much as it was normal, the boy was reminded why he avoided the crowded star systems.
He might have to get out of the city just to clear his head for a moment.
They were also COLOSSAL pieces of crap.
Corellians didn't really like to talk about how untrustworthy Corellian engineering was, because Duros might be listening, but Sor-Jan was worried the secret might be out.
A pair of saddle brown boots jutted up from floor, legs akimbo as the young Jedi wormed his way into the crawl space that was too small for even him. How the kark did adults work on these? "Horizontal boosters?"
Who was he speaking to?
No one. The answer was no one. That's how insane it was trying to work on a YT-series freighter. It made people do strange things. Even talk to themselves.
"Alluvial dampers..? No, that's not it."
...and answer themselves, too.
Squirming, wiggling, wrestling, and otherwise looking about as awkward as was physically possible, the half-century old Anzat writhed free of the hole he'd fallen into. Upright once again, the tow-headed vagrant made his way through the tube-like corridors of the ship until he had snaked his way to the cockpit of the small freighter. As the doors slid aside, the child stretched up on his toes to flick a series of switches and bring up the main computer. Dials and switchboards came alive, the cockpit illuminated with consoles that were like an array of stars as a mechanical vibration could be felt as the Alderaan Queen came alive.
...and promptly went dark a moment later as everything promptly died.
Rearing up with one knee, the boy lashed out with a donkey kick that echoed loudly as it connected with the panel behind him. The electrical hum resumed, as the lights suddenly snapped back on. Slipping forward to the pilot's chair, the young-looking Jedi tried his hands at the controls.
Ship's computer on-line? Check.
Thruster control?
A hydraulic line ruptured as he plied his hand to the lever, sending a burst of pressurized gas screaming as it shot out in the corridor behind him.
Quickly, the boy worked to shut everything back down. Which, turned out to be a lot simpler than he imagined, particularly since everything just kind of died. Not all at once. And not the way it was supposed to. Instead of cycling down, the ship gave a rather loud sputter. Like a corroborator that was choking.
And then the engines seized.
...and that sounded like something might have just fallen off, the boy realized, as the echo of a metallic clang echoed from within the docking bay.
This ship had gotten him to Ithor, but it sure as Sith wasn't getting him off it any time soon. With a sigh, the small Anzat just collapsed back into the pilot's chair. Maybe it was time to trade this thing in.
He wondered what Nubia Star Systems had in their current catalog...
...who was he kidding?
Sometimes being a Corellian was really a pain in the arse. Kicking up from out of the chair, the young Jedi snaked back through the ship to the entry ramp. Peering through the inside of the ship, the boy spotted the silvery metalic frame of a 2-1B medical droid. "Tell Three to guard the ship," the boy stated simply, adjusting the fit of his tunic that had become disheveled from the work on the Queen. "I need some air..." he explained, keying open the hatch.
"...and a parts store," he deadpanned, proceeding down the loading ramp.
The ship was berthed beside a busy market, which was bustling with activity. Farmers, hustlers, merchants, wanderers. Most were Ithorian, but you were just as likely to run into someone who wasn't. Duros. Gran. The boy even passed a pair of Tynnans as he made his way into the avenue packed with street vendors, tourists, residents, and everything in between.
At first glance, or even a second or third, the tow-headed boy looked like a human of about ten or so years. A little young to be anything more than a Jedi hopeful, though a lightsaber hung from his belt. He could be a padawan, though his hair wasn't braided. It wasn't even all that neat. Instead, it was in a bowl-cut that had been allowed to grow out into a shaggy mass of dirty blond hair. He wore an unbleached tunic over a pair of drab colored trousers, which were tucked into the tops of the saddle brown boots he wore.
There were green robes that went with this ensemble ordinarily, except Ithor was a little humid to be walking around wrapped up in a coarse blanket. So he left that folded up in his cabin on the Queen.
...okay so, no, it wasn't actually folded. It was on the floor. Somewhere.
He should probably toss it into the refresher, except it still passed the smell test. At least, the last time he'd checked.
Lost in a sea of adult like bodies, the small predator found he had to focus to try and block out the swell of emotion and thoughts, which bled through the crowd in random bursts of consciousness that were sometimes overwhelming. Crowds were always like that for telepaths, so in as much as it was normal, the boy was reminded why he avoided the crowded star systems.
He might have to get out of the city just to clear his head for a moment.
Micah Talith
Draith Shamalain
Micah's wanderings would take him a bit further out towards where the mass of sapients would dwindle. Out here, the bits and pieces of flora would become a bit more of a common sight.
Which is why the wicked sound of a swish, slash, snick caught his attention. A frown would mar his freckled face, brows scrunching up under the mop of long bangs that were his mother's curse to his genetics. Well more that he kept delaying it getting cut, but hey he liked his version better.
As the observer that he was at sating his curiosity, the ten year old would wander on closer. There in the distance, was the rather vigorous petite figure ([member="Mara D'Lessio Merrill"] ) of another youngling giving the bobble head weeds a taste of their medicine. Curiousity would turn into puzzlement and then into amusement. While he wasn't as good at his mum, he could still read bodies with a similar knack as she.
And what he caught from the young girl was enough to prompt a level of mirth at that. Oh she was not happy! It showed in the vengeance in her strikes, in the shift of her weight, and in the swish and flick of her wrist.
Oh, there was skill there. There was no denying that. This wasn't your average attempt at playing waving a sword around.
"Huh," he'd say aloud, scrunching up his face. Without realizing it, he made his way closer to get a better look.
Unfortunately for him, with his eyes set on the girl, he completely missed the other youngling [member="Sor-Jan Xantha"] that was walking by.
And promptly crashed into him!
[member="Mara D'Lessio Merrill"] [member="Sor-Jan Xantha"] [member="Cassia Edric"] [member="Davin Skirata"] [member="Mark Sage"] [member="Aela Talith"]
Which is why the wicked sound of a swish, slash, snick caught his attention. A frown would mar his freckled face, brows scrunching up under the mop of long bangs that were his mother's curse to his genetics. Well more that he kept delaying it getting cut, but hey he liked his version better.
As the observer that he was at sating his curiosity, the ten year old would wander on closer. There in the distance, was the rather vigorous petite figure ([member="Mara D'Lessio Merrill"] ) of another youngling giving the bobble head weeds a taste of their medicine. Curiousity would turn into puzzlement and then into amusement. While he wasn't as good at his mum, he could still read bodies with a similar knack as she.
And what he caught from the young girl was enough to prompt a level of mirth at that. Oh she was not happy! It showed in the vengeance in her strikes, in the shift of her weight, and in the swish and flick of her wrist.
Oh, there was skill there. There was no denying that. This wasn't your average attempt at playing waving a sword around.
"Huh," he'd say aloud, scrunching up his face. Without realizing it, he made his way closer to get a better look.
Unfortunately for him, with his eyes set on the girl, he completely missed the other youngling [member="Sor-Jan Xantha"] that was walking by.
And promptly crashed into him!
[member="Mara D'Lessio Merrill"] [member="Sor-Jan Xantha"] [member="Cassia Edric"] [member="Davin Skirata"] [member="Mark Sage"] [member="Aela Talith"]
Aela Talith
The Righteous
[member="Mark Sage"]
She jumped slightly as the boy spoke to her.
Boy.
He was older than her, she could tell at first glance, but the title stuck almost immediately in her mind. It wasn't to put him down of course, it was simply how she thought. Her mind brought the idea to the forefront and she simply ran with it.
Better not address him as such. Mother had told her that boys get touchy with that sort of things.
“Hello.” She answered him back in her soothing neutral tone.
There was no obvious dislike or like, no emotion at all in fact. It was much like talking to a tree and hearing a voice back. One wouldn't expect it to talk in the first place so the voice that it cave was rather dull and boring. Perhaps that was because she put no inflection or tone into the word, or perhaps she had done it on purpose.
It was hard to tell.
She jumped slightly as the boy spoke to her.
Boy.
He was older than her, she could tell at first glance, but the title stuck almost immediately in her mind. It wasn't to put him down of course, it was simply how she thought. Her mind brought the idea to the forefront and she simply ran with it.
Better not address him as such. Mother had told her that boys get touchy with that sort of things.
“Hello.” She answered him back in her soothing neutral tone.
There was no obvious dislike or like, no emotion at all in fact. It was much like talking to a tree and hearing a voice back. One wouldn't expect it to talk in the first place so the voice that it cave was rather dull and boring. Perhaps that was because she put no inflection or tone into the word, or perhaps she had done it on purpose.
It was hard to tell.
OriginsoftheJedi
Active Member
There was an awkward pause between greetings, and Mark thought about moving on. But, Mark was curious who this younger jedi was. She seemed familiar in some way. Maybe it was something about the face... or maybe it was the eyes. He could almost swear he'd seen her before.
Anyone who knew Mark knew that he wasn't exactly the person to go to for being "smooth", and not just around the opposite gender either. (Though that was mainly the case, and Mark wasn't afraid to admit it.) In the end, he decided to continue the conversation.
"So... uh, are you also a jedi?" he said, sensing that sort of feel emanating from her. "And what brings you out here?"
[member="Aela Talith"]
Anyone who knew Mark knew that he wasn't exactly the person to go to for being "smooth", and not just around the opposite gender either. (Though that was mainly the case, and Mark wasn't afraid to admit it.) In the end, he decided to continue the conversation.
"So... uh, are you also a jedi?" he said, sensing that sort of feel emanating from her. "And what brings you out here?"
[member="Aela Talith"]
Sor-Jan Xantha
Got Soup?
It was unseasonably dry, and the roots of Mrs. Onca's donar flowers were creeping upon their lawn.
Such were the complaints of a tree.
Several trees actually. An older one in particular, whose branches sheltered two saplings that were barely taller than the Anzat was. Considered by many to be the consciousness of the planet itself, the bafforr tree was an almanac of wisdom about anything and everything one might want to know about shrubbery.
Repairing a YT-series freighter? Not so much, and so this wasn't at all the conversation that Sor-Jan had expected to be entertaining when he had left to explore the market. But then, he hadn't expected to be conversing with a tree at all. It was really quite fascinating in that respect. The Anzati had developed empathic and telepathic abilities as hunting mechanisms. But a tree didn't hunt, and such abilities were not really effective in protecting one from predators, so why had a plant developed them?
The Ithorians were such a horticultural society that Sor-Jan had wound up out in what seemed the wilds, even though he'd sworn he was headed into the center of town. Then again, from what he knew of Ithorians, this could very well be the center of town. Of course, with so much plant life interwoven into the landscape, it was really hard to say what exactly constituted a 'town'.
In any case, the Corellian Jedi had made two rights and a left in what seemed entirely the wrong direction and wound up conversing with a tree. Which, was polite enough company for a tree, though the foliage was seemingly as surprised to have encountered a telepath as much as Sor-Jan was startled to be having this conversation in the first place.
Even more to the point, how did one end a conversation with a plant? Because as illuminating as this might be as an experience, it was quite difficult to get a word in edgewise. The tree just kept talking and talking in one long, incredibly unbroken sentence, moving from topic to topic.
It was really quite hynoptic...
Fortunately for the small Jedi, an object in motion collided with an object at rest. The sudden jostling breaking the connection with the bafforr tree -- thank the Force -- but at the same time, as the tow-headed youth reached out to steady himself, the physical contact formed a rapport of its own. One that broke through the shields that the young Anzat used to try and protect himself and others from unwanted intrusion. In that moment of impact, he saw a thought.
It wasn't his own thought, it was from some where else. Someone else. The person he'd touched just now, or that had touched him. With the sudden impact, the Corellian was a little confused on the exact details of that. He just had a thought, but it wasn't really a thought. It was an image of something. Like a figure.
A... shadow. Holding something.
A weapon..? No, not quite, but there was particular attention to how the object was held. Almost like...
Stumbling back a few steps, the blue-eyed Corellian managed to keep on his feet. A little bigger of a kid, or one with some more momentum behind him, and the Jedi probably would have wound up sitting in the dirt. Raising his eyes, the Anzat looked at a boy who was about his age -- relatively speaking anyway. He had the same kind of dark blond or light brown hair that Sor-Jan did, but with orange eyes.
A human, with orange eyes?
Well, very near human anyway.
Diverting his eyes a moment, the young Jedi stole a glance down at where he suspected he'd find a lightsaber. Then he turned his head, his gaze cutting over to a girl he hadn't noticed before. She was brandishing a stick like a sword.
The edges of the Corellian's mouth turned up slightly. "You know," the tow-headed youth began, as he looked over at the other boy with a Sith-eating grin. "if you spent less time looking at girls, you wouldn't run into things."
Such were the complaints of a tree.
Several trees actually. An older one in particular, whose branches sheltered two saplings that were barely taller than the Anzat was. Considered by many to be the consciousness of the planet itself, the bafforr tree was an almanac of wisdom about anything and everything one might want to know about shrubbery.
Repairing a YT-series freighter? Not so much, and so this wasn't at all the conversation that Sor-Jan had expected to be entertaining when he had left to explore the market. But then, he hadn't expected to be conversing with a tree at all. It was really quite fascinating in that respect. The Anzati had developed empathic and telepathic abilities as hunting mechanisms. But a tree didn't hunt, and such abilities were not really effective in protecting one from predators, so why had a plant developed them?
The Ithorians were such a horticultural society that Sor-Jan had wound up out in what seemed the wilds, even though he'd sworn he was headed into the center of town. Then again, from what he knew of Ithorians, this could very well be the center of town. Of course, with so much plant life interwoven into the landscape, it was really hard to say what exactly constituted a 'town'.
In any case, the Corellian Jedi had made two rights and a left in what seemed entirely the wrong direction and wound up conversing with a tree. Which, was polite enough company for a tree, though the foliage was seemingly as surprised to have encountered a telepath as much as Sor-Jan was startled to be having this conversation in the first place.
Even more to the point, how did one end a conversation with a plant? Because as illuminating as this might be as an experience, it was quite difficult to get a word in edgewise. The tree just kept talking and talking in one long, incredibly unbroken sentence, moving from topic to topic.
It was really quite hynoptic...
Fortunately for the small Jedi, an object in motion collided with an object at rest. The sudden jostling breaking the connection with the bafforr tree -- thank the Force -- but at the same time, as the tow-headed youth reached out to steady himself, the physical contact formed a rapport of its own. One that broke through the shields that the young Anzat used to try and protect himself and others from unwanted intrusion. In that moment of impact, he saw a thought.
It wasn't his own thought, it was from some where else. Someone else. The person he'd touched just now, or that had touched him. With the sudden impact, the Corellian was a little confused on the exact details of that. He just had a thought, but it wasn't really a thought. It was an image of something. Like a figure.
A... shadow. Holding something.
A weapon..? No, not quite, but there was particular attention to how the object was held. Almost like...
...was no denying that. This wasn't your average attempt at playing waving a sword around.
Stumbling back a few steps, the blue-eyed Corellian managed to keep on his feet. A little bigger of a kid, or one with some more momentum behind him, and the Jedi probably would have wound up sitting in the dirt. Raising his eyes, the Anzat looked at a boy who was about his age -- relatively speaking anyway. He had the same kind of dark blond or light brown hair that Sor-Jan did, but with orange eyes.
A human, with orange eyes?
Well, very near human anyway.
Diverting his eyes a moment, the young Jedi stole a glance down at where he suspected he'd find a lightsaber. Then he turned his head, his gaze cutting over to a girl he hadn't noticed before. She was brandishing a stick like a sword.
The edges of the Corellian's mouth turned up slightly. "You know," the tow-headed youth began, as he looked over at the other boy with a Sith-eating grin. "if you spent less time looking at girls, you wouldn't run into things."
[member="Micah Talith"] [member="Mara D'Lessio Merrill"]
Mara D'Lessio Merrill
The Lesser D'Lessio
[member="Micah Talith"] [member="Sor-Jan Xantha"]
Well, feth.
The downside of being half a Zeltron was the telempathy. It was tougher to be alone, so she'd come out here where she couldn't pick up emotional background noise. So even though she couldn't quite hear the two boys' voices, her sword-forms blurred to a halt as she whirled in their direction.
"Would you two shut up! I can smell you getting embarrassed from all the way over here! And you thinking things are funny! Well, they're not!"
She decapitated a nearby weed with extreme prejudice.
"This isn't funny! I got kicked out of the Rebel Alliance!"
Well, feth.
The downside of being half a Zeltron was the telempathy. It was tougher to be alone, so she'd come out here where she couldn't pick up emotional background noise. So even though she couldn't quite hear the two boys' voices, her sword-forms blurred to a halt as she whirled in their direction.
"Would you two shut up! I can smell you getting embarrassed from all the way over here! And you thinking things are funny! Well, they're not!"
She decapitated a nearby weed with extreme prejudice.
"This isn't funny! I got kicked out of the Rebel Alliance!"
Micah Talith
Draith Shamalain
[member="Mara D'Lessio Merrill"] [member="Sor-Jan Xantha"]
Annoyance would have flared on Micah's face -- had it not been for that awkward half grab to catch one's balance. The flash of a silvery metallic frame of a 2-1B medical droid came to the fore of his mind.
There it was again, the brief images of psychometry. He couldn't quite control it, just random images or perspectives that came to mind. He had yet to really refine it, but it was a work in progress. Annoying.
Although the image wasn't as random and out of the blue as hearing the shriek from the Velmor Zorro chick. The heck?!
He was confused and annoyed, righting himself with a few light steps as he'd dust himself off. "I wasn't looking!" he said, defending himself to[member="Sor-Jan Xantha"]. Adding hotly, "Well, I was but at how she was practicing,' He'd gesture, pointing at the girl who was even more agitated.
At both of them to be precise.
Then another angry streak at both their heads. Although this time, it came with a bit more information. Well that was how quick Micah would drop his defense, "Sorry," he'd mutter, half meaning it half not.
Mainly because his next comment was towards [member="Mara D'Lessio Merrill"], "Wait, you got kicked out of what?"
The Rebel Alliance?
No way.
Annoyance would have flared on Micah's face -- had it not been for that awkward half grab to catch one's balance. The flash of a silvery metallic frame of a 2-1B medical droid came to the fore of his mind.
There it was again, the brief images of psychometry. He couldn't quite control it, just random images or perspectives that came to mind. He had yet to really refine it, but it was a work in progress. Annoying.
Although the image wasn't as random and out of the blue as hearing the shriek from the Velmor Zorro chick. The heck?!
He was confused and annoyed, righting himself with a few light steps as he'd dust himself off. "I wasn't looking!" he said, defending himself to[member="Sor-Jan Xantha"]. Adding hotly, "Well, I was but at how she was practicing,' He'd gesture, pointing at the girl who was even more agitated.
At both of them to be precise.
Then another angry streak at both their heads. Although this time, it came with a bit more information. Well that was how quick Micah would drop his defense, "Sorry," he'd mutter, half meaning it half not.
Mainly because his next comment was towards [member="Mara D'Lessio Merrill"], "Wait, you got kicked out of what?"
The Rebel Alliance?
No way.
Aela Talith
The Righteous
[member="Mark Sage"]
Her head swiveled away from the young man for a second, turning towards the wilderness again.
For a few seconds she pondered turning away from him and simply leaving, that was her go to when Micah or Maleah was annoying her. Oddly enough she had never done that with Kaili. Of course she couldn't do that here though, it would just be rude, and Mother had taught her not to be rude to strangers.
“No.” She answered truthfully.
Aela wasn't a Jedi, none of her siblings were. Mother was a Jedi, but father...well it was easy to say that he rather disapproved of the Order and their ways.
“I'm here watching the animals.” She gestured to the reeks. “You?”
It was polite to show interest in what others were doing, another thing that Mother had taught her. Kira Talith really was the nicer one of her parents, at least to other people. No one was nicer to her Mother than her Father. Briefly she wondered if that was the norm, though quickly the thought went away as she looked at the young Jedi.
Her head swiveled away from the young man for a second, turning towards the wilderness again.
For a few seconds she pondered turning away from him and simply leaving, that was her go to when Micah or Maleah was annoying her. Oddly enough she had never done that with Kaili. Of course she couldn't do that here though, it would just be rude, and Mother had taught her not to be rude to strangers.
“No.” She answered truthfully.
Aela wasn't a Jedi, none of her siblings were. Mother was a Jedi, but father...well it was easy to say that he rather disapproved of the Order and their ways.
“I'm here watching the animals.” She gestured to the reeks. “You?”
It was polite to show interest in what others were doing, another thing that Mother had taught her. Kira Talith really was the nicer one of her parents, at least to other people. No one was nicer to her Mother than her Father. Briefly she wondered if that was the norm, though quickly the thought went away as she looked at the young Jedi.
OriginsoftheJedi
Active Member
"The same sort of things I geuss. I was just heading into the city to help with rebuilding stuff since that whole anomaly thing went down. But, I thought I should sick around a minute to take it all in. I've seen a lot of forests in my fifteen years, and each one is so much different. You know, everyone seems to think that reeks are mean." He said, now turning his attention back towards the animals he'd just encountered.
"But they're just protective. They're excellent mothers. I just had to walk straight past them, and they didn't show the slightest interest in attacking me. I was honestly a bit nervous at first, but then again, I guess truth is stranger than fiction sometimes. I just wish people wouldn't prejudge them so much."
Mark wondered why the heck he was saying all this in front of someone he didn't even know, or even why he was still here. It was strange. He didn't usually talk to people very much, especially on his own. He wasn't sure whether he was sick in the head today or finally becoming a normal person. (Nah.)
"Uh.. So what's your name?" He asked a bit awkwardly.
[member="Aela Talith"]
"But they're just protective. They're excellent mothers. I just had to walk straight past them, and they didn't show the slightest interest in attacking me. I was honestly a bit nervous at first, but then again, I guess truth is stranger than fiction sometimes. I just wish people wouldn't prejudge them so much."
Mark wondered why the heck he was saying all this in front of someone he didn't even know, or even why he was still here. It was strange. He didn't usually talk to people very much, especially on his own. He wasn't sure whether he was sick in the head today or finally becoming a normal person. (Nah.)
"Uh.. So what's your name?" He asked a bit awkwardly.
[member="Aela Talith"]
The Spacer
[Sorry, wrong account.]
The Hunter
--Somewhere on Ithor
Aela pushed her speeder to go faster, her armor-clad body pressed tight to the frame. The world was a haze of green and browns, and wind whipped through her pink locks. Any other girl would feel excitement, or exhilaration, or even fear, at driving so fast, at the sheer feel of it all.
Aela felt nothing. She hardly ever did. Life, in her eyes, was just a series of dull events, each as dull or duller than the one before. There were no highs; not anymore. But there were lows though, bad days on top of bad days...
Go-Go was her only escape. Her only reprieve. Go-Go enjoyed life. She had highs and lows. She was what Aela wanted to be, almost, but couldn't find the will to become. And Nono...the less said about her, the better.
Her speeder knifed through thick rows of brambles and hedges, branches and leaves slapping at her face. There weee buildings here and there amongst the forest, blending in to the scenery. She slowed, twisted around a tree, hit the accelerator --
And then slammed on the breaks as she came around the bend, swerving to avoid three kids who seemed to appear out of nowhere. The speeder tipped over, skidding against the grass to crash into a tree. Aela's head slammed into the ground, knocking her senseless. She saw stars for a moment, and then...
And then the pain was gone, and she wasn't Aela anymore. She was Go-Go. "Your parents never taught you twerps not to stand in front of speeders?! Go-Go almost hit you!" She climbed to her feet, frowning at the dirt marring her clothing. There was a smudge on her revolver!
Go-Go drew the massive slugthrower from its holster on her hip, pulled a cloth from her packet, and started wiping down her beloved .357. "Ahhhh," she sighed contentedly when it was clean. "That's better." She holstered her revolver and approached the children, tucking her trusty taozin amulet back under her armor. It was pretty basic as far as armor went, and lightweight, colored a dark, rust red. Her super special Mandalorian super glove didn't match the rest of her ensemble, but she wouldn't have been able to shoot the gun without it. The recoil was ridiculous!
All the kids looked younger than her, not that she was old herself. She hadn't even been 14 for half a year yet. "Well?" she asked, hands on her hips. "Go-Go asked a question. When Go-Go asks a question, Go-Go exp--!"
Her mouth dropped open and her eyes widened. They were all so cute! Even the scrawny little girl! They were like little bunnies, but without the ears and the fur! She almost squeed, only keeping it in through sheer iron will.
"Go-Go is sorry, cute little bunnies. Go-Go shouldn't have been driving so fast." Her eyes flicked down to her .357. Kids liked guns, right? She certainly had. "You guys wanna play with Go-Go's gun?" She pulled it from its holster with practiced ease, before noticing, for the first time, a lightsaber hanging from one of the boy's belts. Her brow furrowed, green eyes narrowing in suspicion. "Heeeey... You aren't a little Sith, are you?" She angled the barrel towards him. "Go-Go doesn't like Sith unless they're full of holes."
[member="Micah Talith"] [member="Mara D'Lessio Merrill"] [member="Sor-Jan Xantha"]
Aela pushed her speeder to go faster, her armor-clad body pressed tight to the frame. The world was a haze of green and browns, and wind whipped through her pink locks. Any other girl would feel excitement, or exhilaration, or even fear, at driving so fast, at the sheer feel of it all.
Aela felt nothing. She hardly ever did. Life, in her eyes, was just a series of dull events, each as dull or duller than the one before. There were no highs; not anymore. But there were lows though, bad days on top of bad days...
Go-Go was her only escape. Her only reprieve. Go-Go enjoyed life. She had highs and lows. She was what Aela wanted to be, almost, but couldn't find the will to become. And Nono...the less said about her, the better.
Her speeder knifed through thick rows of brambles and hedges, branches and leaves slapping at her face. There weee buildings here and there amongst the forest, blending in to the scenery. She slowed, twisted around a tree, hit the accelerator --
And then slammed on the breaks as she came around the bend, swerving to avoid three kids who seemed to appear out of nowhere. The speeder tipped over, skidding against the grass to crash into a tree. Aela's head slammed into the ground, knocking her senseless. She saw stars for a moment, and then...
And then the pain was gone, and she wasn't Aela anymore. She was Go-Go. "Your parents never taught you twerps not to stand in front of speeders?! Go-Go almost hit you!" She climbed to her feet, frowning at the dirt marring her clothing. There was a smudge on her revolver!
Go-Go drew the massive slugthrower from its holster on her hip, pulled a cloth from her packet, and started wiping down her beloved .357. "Ahhhh," she sighed contentedly when it was clean. "That's better." She holstered her revolver and approached the children, tucking her trusty taozin amulet back under her armor. It was pretty basic as far as armor went, and lightweight, colored a dark, rust red. Her super special Mandalorian super glove didn't match the rest of her ensemble, but she wouldn't have been able to shoot the gun without it. The recoil was ridiculous!
All the kids looked younger than her, not that she was old herself. She hadn't even been 14 for half a year yet. "Well?" she asked, hands on her hips. "Go-Go asked a question. When Go-Go asks a question, Go-Go exp--!"
Her mouth dropped open and her eyes widened. They were all so cute! Even the scrawny little girl! They were like little bunnies, but without the ears and the fur! She almost squeed, only keeping it in through sheer iron will.
"Go-Go is sorry, cute little bunnies. Go-Go shouldn't have been driving so fast." Her eyes flicked down to her .357. Kids liked guns, right? She certainly had. "You guys wanna play with Go-Go's gun?" She pulled it from its holster with practiced ease, before noticing, for the first time, a lightsaber hanging from one of the boy's belts. Her brow furrowed, green eyes narrowing in suspicion. "Heeeey... You aren't a little Sith, are you?" She angled the barrel towards him. "Go-Go doesn't like Sith unless they're full of holes."
[member="Micah Talith"] [member="Mara D'Lessio Merrill"] [member="Sor-Jan Xantha"]
Daughter of Fen
So, technically Aella wasn't a youngling. In fact by the standards of her species she was considered an adult...just about. To these kids, she was ancient. She'd lived most of their life spans perhaps six times over. But she'd seen barely half of what they'd seen of the galaxy. Her life, till a few years ago, was lived on a Sh'shuun. A planet tucked away in the unknown regions. Her family, large and extensive as most shi'ido families were, were content to remain out of the galaxy, content to enjoy their sheltered lives and skinchange into trees or rocks when colonists passed by.
She'd scoffed at them for it.
Yet here she was, back pressed against a baffor tree, skin morphed to match its texture...
...utterly terrified.
Children of the galaxy unnerved her. So full of mirth and hatred, scorned by their elders and witnesses to some of the greatest tragedies during the Great War. She'd not meant to hide from them, but when the swish and flick of a angry wooden sword had made her panic. So foolish. She was stuck now, if she revealed herself they'd question why she'd been there, or they'd be frightened. But when the gun swung round to point at a child...
"Are you completely out of your mind?!"
She stepped away from the tree, still looking like it. "Put that away."
She sounded like her mother.
Force, let the ground swallow her now.
[member="Aela Darkstar"] [member="Micah Talith"] [member="Mara D'Lessio Merrill"] [member="Sor-Jan Xantha"]
She'd scoffed at them for it.
Yet here she was, back pressed against a baffor tree, skin morphed to match its texture...
...utterly terrified.
Children of the galaxy unnerved her. So full of mirth and hatred, scorned by their elders and witnesses to some of the greatest tragedies during the Great War. She'd not meant to hide from them, but when the swish and flick of a angry wooden sword had made her panic. So foolish. She was stuck now, if she revealed herself they'd question why she'd been there, or they'd be frightened. But when the gun swung round to point at a child...
"Are you completely out of your mind?!"
She stepped away from the tree, still looking like it. "Put that away."
She sounded like her mother.
Force, let the ground swallow her now.
[member="Aela Darkstar"] [member="Micah Talith"] [member="Mara D'Lessio Merrill"] [member="Sor-Jan Xantha"]
Sor-Jan Xantha
Got Soup?
The Rebel what?
An alliance of rebels? That sounded like a contradiction, though perhaps it was merely an example of something else he'd missed in history. He'd probably been about to ask a stupid question, except the boy who had run into him had asked it first.
Not entirely as Sor-Jan would have phrased it, but certainly an invitation for some further elaboration on just what the femme chevalier was talking about. Which, any added context would be helpful. Not just to help him understand the gist of what she had said, but even to just help him acclimate to the galaxy as it was now -- as opposed to what he knew it as.
And then a speeder came barreling through.
With one hand, the young Corellian stretched an arm out with the intent of shielding the other boy from stepping out into the path of careening, no-longer-in-control speeder. With his other, he was prepared to use the Force to push the sword girl out of the way if need be.
Apparently, traffic was as much an issue on Ithor as with any other civilized world.
The series of events which followed came in such a blur that Sor-Jan would have struggled to have described the precise sequence of events. He'd looked to be certain that neither the boy with the stick-lightsaber, nor the girl with the sword, were hurt. And then by the time he'd turned his attention toward the girl that had been driving the speeder, she had turned her attention on them.
...and a weapon.
It somewhat resembled a blaster, but not quite. Was that a slug-thrower?
The nuances in behavior. The sudden, violent mood swings. The fact that she possessed weapons and armor, and more so the skill with which she drew and aimed them. There was something decidedly off about this child. The girl was dangerous.
Positioning himself so that he was between the pink-haired teen and the other boy, the young Consular was at something of a crossroad as to how to deescalate a situation which had spun so rapidly out of control.
And then a tree up and asked if the girl was out of her mind.
...not precisely a tree, exactly. And that whole bit would have otherwise been fascinating if not for the slug-thrower aimed at younglings, but Sor-Jan much preferred to focus on just one crazy situation at a time. And that was the pink haired girl in front of him.
Plus, asking someone who was out of their mind whether or not they were, in fact, out of their mind was rarely an effective strategy.
He rather liked the part about putting the weapon away though.
"No one here is Sith," the small Jedi stated calmly.
Did he know any of these people from Adam? No. But the Sith rarely had patience or tolerance for young ones. And Sor-Jan was fairly certain he'd never met any shape-shifting trees that had gone over to the Dark Side.
"You fell out of the speeder," the Corellian boy noted, in the same quiet, placid tone of voice. "Are you all right?"
With a normal situation such as this, he'd have tried a Force Persuasion or Mind Trick to try and convince her to put the weapon down. But if her state of mind was already disturbed, that was more likely to only make matters worse.
Of course, when weapons were drawn down on younglings... it was difficult for things to really go much further down toward hell than they already had.
An alliance of rebels? That sounded like a contradiction, though perhaps it was merely an example of something else he'd missed in history. He'd probably been about to ask a stupid question, except the boy who had run into him had asked it first.
Not entirely as Sor-Jan would have phrased it, but certainly an invitation for some further elaboration on just what the femme chevalier was talking about. Which, any added context would be helpful. Not just to help him understand the gist of what she had said, but even to just help him acclimate to the galaxy as it was now -- as opposed to what he knew it as.
And then a speeder came barreling through.
With one hand, the young Corellian stretched an arm out with the intent of shielding the other boy from stepping out into the path of careening, no-longer-in-control speeder. With his other, he was prepared to use the Force to push the sword girl out of the way if need be.
Apparently, traffic was as much an issue on Ithor as with any other civilized world.
The series of events which followed came in such a blur that Sor-Jan would have struggled to have described the precise sequence of events. He'd looked to be certain that neither the boy with the stick-lightsaber, nor the girl with the sword, were hurt. And then by the time he'd turned his attention toward the girl that had been driving the speeder, she had turned her attention on them.
...and a weapon.
It somewhat resembled a blaster, but not quite. Was that a slug-thrower?
The nuances in behavior. The sudden, violent mood swings. The fact that she possessed weapons and armor, and more so the skill with which she drew and aimed them. There was something decidedly off about this child. The girl was dangerous.
Positioning himself so that he was between the pink-haired teen and the other boy, the young Consular was at something of a crossroad as to how to deescalate a situation which had spun so rapidly out of control.
And then a tree up and asked if the girl was out of her mind.
...not precisely a tree, exactly. And that whole bit would have otherwise been fascinating if not for the slug-thrower aimed at younglings, but Sor-Jan much preferred to focus on just one crazy situation at a time. And that was the pink haired girl in front of him.
Plus, asking someone who was out of their mind whether or not they were, in fact, out of their mind was rarely an effective strategy.
He rather liked the part about putting the weapon away though.
"No one here is Sith," the small Jedi stated calmly.
Did he know any of these people from Adam? No. But the Sith rarely had patience or tolerance for young ones. And Sor-Jan was fairly certain he'd never met any shape-shifting trees that had gone over to the Dark Side.
"You fell out of the speeder," the Corellian boy noted, in the same quiet, placid tone of voice. "Are you all right?"
With a normal situation such as this, he'd have tried a Force Persuasion or Mind Trick to try and convince her to put the weapon down. But if her state of mind was already disturbed, that was more likely to only make matters worse.
Of course, when weapons were drawn down on younglings... it was difficult for things to really go much further down toward hell than they already had.
[member="Aella"] [member="Aela Darkstar"] [member="Micah Talith"] [member="Mara D'Lessio Merrill"]