Objective 2 Currently, Objective 1, Eventually...
CURRENT QUEST - There's no place like Home...
Immediate Goals -
1: Reconnect with
Matthew of Valendale
1.1:
Assuage the guilt of what you've done...
2: Walk the
beat beach (Active)
3: Strut your stuff on the catwalk
FRIEND(s) -
Matthew of Valendale
FOE(s) - N/A
TARGETING ACTION(S) -
Braze
Iko Vel
Jalen Kai'el
She didn't take off the
beskar'gam, for a variety of reasons - chiefest among them was that though she is of House Solus, and an adherent of the Resol'nare, she was a member of Centerra's finest:
the Sunstar Order. That, and in spite of all these years the air still caused her to be dizzy, the thickness and richness caused even one of a Lasat's constitution to sway! Of course, this didn'ts top Beviin, the juvenile
Vanquo Dragon that was her truest companion, to lazily fly high and above, the meter-long drakeling delighting in zooming around and pressing on just how much she-the-drakeling could strike terror into the silicate constructs of the beach - or any errant foodstuffs.
Telepathically, she would chastise Beviin, and keep her on a "leash" so to speak - but the Lasat would prefer to be within her own thoughts. It hadn't been too long since she left her second home to take up the call of a "knight-errant", utilizing her mother's
Cynthia Solus
' network of contacts to keep her busy and with plenty of dataries to keep her flying. She had daydreamt of Centerra all the way back then, and spent the years between her
verd'goten and a little while ago on the mystical planet - and for a while, she thought she had found her home.
Of course, this still was, she - despite the efforts of being aligned to the
Lilaste Order, and by extension, the Empire of the Lost, she kept true to the tenets of the Sunstar. ...Hadn't she?
The Galaxy was a complicated place, one where ideals don't neatly fit in with reality, nor vice versa - and this was the truest reason why she was here. Not merely to reconnect with the lands she once knew, and maybe even win a trip to a spa on her vacation, but to gain a sense of certainty. Already she had sensed her old mentor, the paragon
Matthew of Valendale
, so close and so tantalizingly out of reach. Was it the Force that kept them apart, her own fear of what to even
say - it was
almost enough for her to miss the fact that Beviin had selected a rather impressive looking "sand-city" as the target of her desolation.
Before the meter-long bringer of fire and misfortune could ravage the childish dreams made reality, the drakeling would find herself suspended, thrashing powerlessly in an unseen grip. "<<
Beviin, if you can't behave, you'll be brought to the ship.>>" the Lasat growled up at her flying companion, her hand reaching out and the Force clearly emanating from the cross Mandalorian. "<<
And you will help Tyme clean.>>" With a despondent yowl, conceding defeat, the drakeling was brought back to her perch on the Lasat's shoulders. Turning to the smattering of young lads around the almost destroyed city, she gave an apologetic bow and began in Basic. "
Sorry about Beviin, she can be... irritable when she's cramped on a spaceship for too long." She would turn her attention between the impressively built sand-city and the trio of gentlemen. "
Which one of you lads made this? Looks pretty good!"
