Keepin Corellia Weird
Theme
Coruscant. Hell, it had been a while since he had been in ANY real Jedi Temple besides the little wayward Guardian Academy he ran on Socorro. Let alone THE temple of temples, so to speak, in Galactic terms. But Valery Noble had called out to him, arranging a meeting with himself and her and her husband Kahlil Noble , and he wasn't one to pass up such an invite. Especially with the galactic scene being what it was, he was surprised someone hadn't called to him sooner honestly. Then again, he was a has-been, and until recently on mission with the Aing-Tii, a geriatric that wasn't capable of much. But now? Now he was clean-shaven and looked hardly a day over 30, and felt as young or younger. Time to get back out in the world for a spell.
Running a hand along a jaw mostly devoid of stubble, Julius checked his gear before stepping into the Temple proper. Trousers pressed and neat, armor polished to a bone-white sheen. Thankfully, his tattoos hand remained in place, the concentric swirls from the Aing-Tii and others mostly hidden or glimpsed in flashes and bits marked him as a veteran of dozens of wars and units, a soldier more than a statesman, though at need he could smooth talk and politic. Over the armor was thrown his longcoat, and at his hips hung the first and second lightsaber he carried, and strapped to his thigh was his pistol, which his artificial arm drummed Aing-Tii made digits across the butt of.
Moving from his belt to his Jed-Cred, his flesh and blood hand stroked the pendant for a minute, heavy with his Rebellion ring and his Kathol Outback signet. He would feel the same in the force, but the sand-blonde hair and blue-grey eyes and youthful grin might throw Valery at first. And he couldn't recall meeting this husband of hers. With a hand to adjust the beskar pauldron blazoned with his wife's sigil under the coat, he reached up with his white-and-silver prosthetic and knocked at the doors a Temple guard had guided him too, resisting the urge to dress him down over the challenge of Julius' appearance and being belonging to the name he gave.
Here went nothing...
Coruscant. Hell, it had been a while since he had been in ANY real Jedi Temple besides the little wayward Guardian Academy he ran on Socorro. Let alone THE temple of temples, so to speak, in Galactic terms. But Valery Noble had called out to him, arranging a meeting with himself and her and her husband Kahlil Noble , and he wasn't one to pass up such an invite. Especially with the galactic scene being what it was, he was surprised someone hadn't called to him sooner honestly. Then again, he was a has-been, and until recently on mission with the Aing-Tii, a geriatric that wasn't capable of much. But now? Now he was clean-shaven and looked hardly a day over 30, and felt as young or younger. Time to get back out in the world for a spell.
Running a hand along a jaw mostly devoid of stubble, Julius checked his gear before stepping into the Temple proper. Trousers pressed and neat, armor polished to a bone-white sheen. Thankfully, his tattoos hand remained in place, the concentric swirls from the Aing-Tii and others mostly hidden or glimpsed in flashes and bits marked him as a veteran of dozens of wars and units, a soldier more than a statesman, though at need he could smooth talk and politic. Over the armor was thrown his longcoat, and at his hips hung the first and second lightsaber he carried, and strapped to his thigh was his pistol, which his artificial arm drummed Aing-Tii made digits across the butt of.
Moving from his belt to his Jed-Cred, his flesh and blood hand stroked the pendant for a minute, heavy with his Rebellion ring and his Kathol Outback signet. He would feel the same in the force, but the sand-blonde hair and blue-grey eyes and youthful grin might throw Valery at first. And he couldn't recall meeting this husband of hers. With a hand to adjust the beskar pauldron blazoned with his wife's sigil under the coat, he reached up with his white-and-silver prosthetic and knocked at the doors a Temple guard had guided him too, resisting the urge to dress him down over the challenge of Julius' appearance and being belonging to the name he gave.
Here went nothing...