Private For Force and Faction

[Efret Farr]

Silence was not always blissful, especially if you lived a majority of your life in it. It was never noisy in an auditory sense but often would fill nevertheless, becoming busy with images of meaning, of ideas, of trepidation.

Thus, it was times like these—times when she was troubled and left alone to her thoughts—she reached out through the Force to listen to her surroundings in hopes that the sounds would distract her Deaf mind. When it wasn't silent, she found it harder to think about anything but how to interpret a footfall or a distant conversation in the hall. What direction was the sound coming from? Was one or the other approaching her location? In the case of the latter, she could not understand even if she strained; her knowledge of lipreading was tied only to the meaning to spoken words, not their phonetics.

She continued on lighting the many candles situated around the open meditation room the a long matchstick. For now, no one walked through the open door leading off one of the main hallways to join her.

Outfit + equipment; lapel translation clip (currently switched off); lightsaber (green blade color)
Gene Kenobi​

 

[Gene Kenobi]

Many a time of late had his mind been troubled by the state of the galaxy. Whether it was the well being of his sister, the atmosphere of the politics or merely the safety of the many innocents he had aided his mind continued to cloud with troubling thoughts and feelings. With them, much to a moderate disappointment, came a weight that his sister had warned him about. A weight that she insisted proper training would have given him reprieve from had he been willing to step past his unfaltering belief that not every Kenobi needed to be a Jedi.

Such were the nature of his thoughts as he traversed what was now beginning to appear as much emptier halls of the Jedi Temple; or more specifically the temple archives. Distracting him briefly as he moved to the towering shelves of the record halls that he was most familiar with only to be met with far less data than he oft found himself met with. A result that brought a furrow to the aged mans brow and a flick of his gaze about the halls in an attempt to find someone who might be able to clarify what it was he was witness to.

Only to be met with silence and the faint echo of a Force presence reaching out into the nearby area.

Curiosity won him over and within moments he found himself stepping into a dimly lit room that was strewn with candles; something he had not seen nor expected in all his turns to the temple. It was the woman, however, that ultimately captured his attention as he mindfully moved through the space and into what he believed to be her line of sight.

"I beg your pardon," he uttered with little hesitation as his eyes fell on her face. "I seem to have come at a bad time, would you know where they've moved most of the records?"

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Outfit
Efret Farr​

 

[Efret Farr]

Efret heard his approach. When he came into her line of sight, she stopped listening and began watching. She pulled back the match, leaving a flame flickering on a wick in its wake, and gently waved the stick to extinguish it. She set it down on the shrine before drawing closer to the man and squinting at his lips as if that would help her see them any better. Still, she managed to catch the end of his question.

Something about most of the records.

She looked down at a clip along the high neckline of her tunic. After pressing a small button on the side of it, she looked back to him.

"I'm sorry," she said, her lapel unit verbally interpreting her hand gestures. "Could you say that again, please?"

He did and she was able to understand in entirety.

Her gaze slid to his. "Oh. Uh..." The occasion was rare where an appropriate response did not come rather immediately to Efret. Under any other circumstance, she would have disclosed the new location without a care in the spirit of assistance, even to a non-Jedi. She, after all, did not believe in privileged knowledge or keeping oneself to their ivory towers, but both were the best courses of action now. War had come to the Core and she did not recognize this man, not even by his likeness. Historian as she was, she remembered important figures by their names and deeds rather than by their appearances.

"The answer depends. Who are you, sir?"

Gene Kenobi​

 

[Gene Kenobi]

Repeating himself hardly concerned him. When the device at her neckline began to put a voice to gestures he recognized he smiled to himself through a soft chuckle, feeling a mite foolish for being lacking in observance even regardless of consequences. Allowing for a mild flush of embarrassment to trickle away he watched and listened as she conveyed her response and subsequent question; a question he had anticipated from the moment he had even tendered himself to her attention.

"I do apologize, miss," he spoke aloud first before glancing down at his own hands and began to continue his conversation with her in the freshest form of GBSL he remembered. <It's Gene.> He continued in an admittedly somewhat clumsy manner with his hands as he tried his best to convey what he was thinking to her through the use of hand signals. While he had studied all forms of langauges during his travels through the galaxy he was not one to shy away from the reality that he was hardly fluent.

As a moment passed, the rationale that giving only his first name likely carried little value, he heaved a voluminous sigh before pressing the fingers of one hand against the bridge of his nose. Lowring it again and with a gesture to assure her it was not her mistake he made to continue the conversation.

<My name is Gene. Gene Kenobi.> He ultimately conveyed with a mild bit of reluctance in how slow the letters were formed by his hands despite a practice that would have had him acting more rapidly. It was rare that he gave his full name openly, knowing well how others often reacted when the information was made known, but when he visited the temple it always seemed to be burdensomely prudent. <I fancy myself something of a historian but it would seem my routine visit has found me with a lack of archives to peruse.>

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Outfit
Efret Farr​

 

[Efret Farr]

A smile broke across the Jedi master's face when Gene began to sign. She was always genuinely surprised and delighted when she found another person who knew how to communicate in her preferred manner. Gene brought the recent count to a dozen. That was more than enough to satisfy her.

She chose to leave her interpretation unit on, guessing correctly that Gene was not fluent and would appreciate its modulated voice.

Kenobi? "Any relation to Erianna?" she asked, electing to keep her question to familiar bonds of this generation rather than the other one that his surname invoked. He was probably well used to that being asked about. Efret didn't have nearly as great of a heritage, but she felt she could still empathize. The things that strangers sometimes wondered about the Deaf experience, while mostly meant well, did get old rather quickly—even to a patient Jedi master.

Once again, depending on his answer, she would divulge more information.

Gene Kenobi​

 

[Gene Kenobi]

No sooner had he given her his name, the very idea of it lingering in the air hanging as the burden it generally was, did she take one of two angles that could have been expected. While it was likely that others within the order knew of his sister and her endeavors to garner recognition through her name it went without question that he would have also expected this woman to respond merely to the name itself. A great many had and still would, much to his chagrin in spite of the many years he had spent building reputation based upon his deeds instead.

<My younger sister,> he explained with yet another heaved sigh as he signed the answer to the woman in front of him, the smile upon her face making him feel a bit less haggard than he would have typically been. <I don't suppose she has you listening to her stories as well?> He asked and leaned back with a fold of his arms and a furrow of his brow; the aforementioned notion of her bluster bringing a grumpy guardian demeanor to him before he drew in a slow breath and let his arms relax again. It mattered little how she knew Erianna, only that she knew her.

And know her she did.

<I apologize profusely on her behalf. She can be exceptionally thick headed when she's not being absurdly stubborn.> He continued and lowered himself down to sit before his host. <She plays Jedi and I refurbish and perpetuate historical accuracy.>

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Outfit
Efret Farr​

 

[Efret Farr]

The smile did not fade, but it did morph into an amused expression.

"I'll take your word for it," she said before shaking her head. Her smile changed subtly yet again. The emotion now behind it was restrained sorrow. "I don't know her well. I don't normally interact with other Jedi." Efret felt like she was catching up for lost time now that she was back at the Temple. She loved her station more than she loved her life, but she had forgotten the social side of being a Jedi in her nomadic years alone. Now she could not refuse the regret gripping her that such unfortunate circumstances had been what drove her to return to Coruscant. "But war habitually pushes us all out of our comfort zones, so here I am." She took a small pause, then realized that she had not introduced herself either. "Master Farr, Jedi archeologist." She gave her formal sign name instead of the fingerspelling of it. A bow of her head sealed the exchanging of names.

She continued, feeling as if it was safe to tell him the truth of the archive matter, "All unique records have been moved elsewhere, and will likely remain there until the Core is secured again." She paused again, the weight of mentioning the Dark Empire's presence just a few star systems away taking her by surprise. It rendered her hands still for a moment more before she pushed the notion away.

"Are you in need of something particular?" She did not feel any ill intent from Gene, but she was not prepared to reveal one of two location where the holobooks, datasticks, or holocrons he was looking for might be. Still, she wanted to be as helpful as possible to a fellow historian.

Gene Kenobi​