Public Where the Tall Ferns Grow [All Jedi]

[Corazona von Ascania]

Cora felt the way the Force shifted around Connel at her mention of his father. She remained silent, letting his feelings settle. Then she smiled, soft and somber.

"The mark of a true Jedi."

No ego, no bluster. Caltin's sacrifice, as much as it pained her, was the epitome of their path.

"I'm sorry to hear about Gabriel. He was a good man."

Cora drummed her fingers against the armrest of the chair, humming in thought. "That is kind of you, thank you. I'll be sure to call on you if I think of what I might need. This enclave and the particulars of the Ukatian monarchy have kept me busy. Some of the younglings from the Order have found shelter here."

Her fingers stilled, expression slowly sobering. The departure of seasoned masters of knights from the core had stung. Cora didn't understand the moves they made, but hoped that the Force would reveal it in time. It would quell many a frustration.

When she spoke, her words were slow and careful.

"How fares…Master Noble and everyone?"

Connel Vanagor

 

[Akela Ru]

Reina Daival

AKela looked at the Reina and nodded a sign of ultimate respect. "An interdependant confactor, I can respect that but our goals are the same helping. By being in the rebellion against naptime it allows padawans to properly join the cause and they can help people." She said it standing there as her thoughts raced on what they could do.. there was a lot of people but she knew the secret to surviving the adults and their agents was not to linger. This one if she could not be an ally in the eternal war she could not risk upsetting her and making her an enemy. "But you have given your answer and I will take my leave. The day is beginning and there are padawans to liberate for the war."

She was nodding her head but stopped and dug in her robes pockets producing a piece of paper, irregularly cut into a rectangle, covered with something sticky that smelled of artificial syrup... and adorned with crayons making words... maybe might have been scribbles of a togruta. "Take my card it has the ways to contact me when the oppression of the adults becomes to much." She handed it over leaving the string and lint from her pockets to stick to it. "Until we meet again don't let the danger and power of the adults corrupt you Reina... now.... AKELA VANISH!!!" She shouted it and threw some glitter into the air as she started to run off towards the temple again.

 

[Connel Vanagor]

UNDERGROUND NETWORKING
UKATIS
JEDI ENCLAVE

Michael, Gabriel, Azrael, Sariel, Raphael, Jeremiel, Connel, Raguel
[Any text in brackets signifies comm-link usage and not face to face conversation]

Her well-wishing of his father’s fate brought out a soft smile from him. He did not think about what those who might not have kind things to say would have thought. Their opinions did not matter, but he knew that they existed out there.

Gabriel died fighting the Sunfyre brigade, or whatever they were called. There was no emotion there. The one who assumed his sign isn’t trying to replace him, but lives up to his choice. It’s what I’m trying to do in regards to my father.

The words hung in the air as Connel took another breath. Then the question he was not looking forward to, but was expecting. What about the others?

How should he answer? She was deserving of the open truth, but what of those around her? What were their intentions? From what I know, about as well as can be expected, they are surviving. If you wish, I’m sure that you would be welcomed to see them. Vague enough to not turn any other ears on their scent, but direct enough she would understand.

TAGS • ARE • WIDE • OPEN • TO • ALL • Corazona von Ascania​

 

[Kael Varnok]

The earth gave beneath the weight of his hands, damp soil clinging to his fingers as Kael leaned into the work. Sweat streaked down scarred shoulders, his broad chest rising and falling with the rhythm of labor. His robes lay discarded against a stone wall nearby, leaving only the plain trousers, boots, and the belt that bore his sabers. The hilts glinted faintly in the mist, out of place among the rows of green.

"Force take me…" he muttered under his breath, jaw tight as he drove the spade into stubborn ground. "Battle's so much easier than this." The words were low, nearly swallowed by the mist, yet weighted with truth. His voice carried the rasp of a man who had seen too much war — and perhaps missed it even as he sought peace.

He straightened, wiping his brow with a wrapped forearm. The scars that marked his body were a testament to survival, yet his expression flickered — a rare moment of weariness, almost as if he could not decide which part of himself belonged here. The warrior, ever restless… or the Jedi, trying to coax life from soil instead of ending it with steel.

His gaze turned toward the manor, toward the voices carried on the air. For a heartbeat, he lingered — divided, as always. Then he bent again to the earth, as though burying the choice beneath the rows of budding crops.