If perfection is stagnation, then Heaven is a swamp.

[Gabriel Sionoma]

Annaj

En route, Marrow and Illskin's

Morning

The last shipment of Ankarres wood came as a charity, a pro bono offering from a figure that went by the name of @Dissero. Not much more information was given, simply a place for shipment and a suggestion. That if the crafter wanted more materials, such as this Ankarres wood or leathers used for grips or particular crystals and artifacts, he'd need to come in person. It was a matter of showing his true interest, Gabriel had assumed, though the directions were a bit vague. Come to Annaj, wonder through the swamps. It was a test, one determinate upon the notions of fate. If he was to find the shop, he would find it. If not, well then he might drown or at the very least, go back to Sulon damp and empty handed. He didn't like the sound of that, stubbornness for not wasting time overwhelming any sense of survival. Pride may have had a part as well.

Grand Marshall Omai Rhen was skeptical. First and foremost, he wasn't one to just let a former prisoner move freely from Galactic Alliance space. On top of that, he, in his own way, had regarded Gabriel as a tool. Something he once accepted as a formality, he now accepted with a frown. But with plying, and indication of value gained from the trinkets and lightsaber provided to Chevu, rings provided for recruits, Omai gave that standard nod, pregnant with apprehension. A swamp, he said confused, seems like a bad idea. Gabriel agreed, for the most part, but he had always been partial to worlds inhabited by living and breathing wetlands. Before ascension in the One Sith, Reverance had spent some time on Dagobah. He even facilitated creation of expansive bogs on Selvaris during the vong forming process. After providing Omai this account, numerous instances of Gabriels expertise on wetlands, the Marshall relented with a sigh and smile. A member of the Hounds, slowly molding into the New Jedi Order, Gabriel was given leave to pursue materials needed for his crafting.

So here his Star Viper sat, on the tree line looking into a belching swamp. Cypress trees, exposed pneumatophores, a stale wind about, the smell of sulfur filled the empty spaces between burps of methane. Perhaps tide, perhaps creatures beneath the green glass, the thing moved for the film of scum atop it. Hummocks, amid hollows, littered the view with water interrupted with small hills of peat. And there Gabriel stood, pressing thoughtful hand against beard, looking for a path that seemed easiest. This is dumb. He shook his head and exhaled, wrapping the robe around him. He had to abandon the armor, couldn't use the weight here, but as the water rushed into his boots in the first step, he began to regret this decision. But warm water was better than frigid ice and snow, so he'd take what he could get. Filling the Annulum Ignis against his ring finger, he steeled his nerves and began sloshing through the wetland. Slowly, but surely, the Star Viper disappeared behind him. Replaced by creeping thick thorny vines and smooth rattan, binding adjacent tree limbs together.

He heard the buzz of insects, pulling his hood over his head, as he smacked a rather large mosquito. But he missed, simply smacking himself instead. With a gruff, he began to appreciate the extreme situation he might be in, wondering if any sane person would go through this for simple wood and stone. But in the back of his mind, it felt purposeful, a guided trek that meant something, no matter how small the reward might be.

[member="Silva Talith"]​

 

[Dissero]

There were a few rare people that knew the exact location of Annaj's Marrow & Illskins well enough to navigate the sea of wetland canopy from above to save them the same grueling trip [member="The Revenant"] now found himself undertaking. A select few regular customers, the shopkeeper himself, one or two suppliers, and of course the man of the hour. Having two dozen stealth fighters at his disposal since the Blackguard Auction now suddenly seemed very handy.

Hours ago he'd carefully deposited himself, several new crates of products, and a primly dressed woman on the raised decking of splintered wooden walkways. Some time was spent introducing said woman to the place, helping remove one of her heels from between the slats, and getting the supplies up the steeply sloped and uneven steps. All in all a quick venture - the stealth ship winged off towards the city on the horizon, engines softly whining into the darkening sky.


"I know it doesn't look like much on the outside ... or the inside, but it's quiet and remote," Dissero talked after the woman as she slowly made her way in, watching her silent procession through the narrow aisle of trinkets and things. It was a bit like watching a tiger quietly prowl new lands - cautiously curious. He frowned, finding her lack of response unnerving, "it'll be a good place for you to get adjusted to your new body. There's plenty to do to stay busy but nothing too demanding, and I'll be around to help and take care of the shop while you're here. I gave the Keeper a vacation ... not that I think he even knows what that means."

Delicate fingers laced around her upper arms as the woman tugged at her shawl, pausing to examine a shelf of trinkets.

"I've got several new scrolls that will require translation, including what I copied from the Taurannik and Aing'Tii codexes," he continued, moving to set a small crate down on the shop counter.

This seemed to catch her attention, drawing her gaze back to him where it lingered on the box.

"oh and you might be interested in something a friend of mine is working on. Lightside Alchemy. I know you never got into those sort of arts, but it's an interesting read and I'd like to see if you have any knowledge to add to our library of notes. Maybe something you came across in your time before, on Coruscant."

A blink, a nod, she moved forward and offered an empty hand to take something. Anything.

Dissero smiled, "I'll get you set up back in the Archive section. Why don't you take your things upstairs to the bedroom while I do that. Settle in, get comfortable. Let me know if you need anything, I can have Mahet pick it up in town."

There came a tense pause that caused the man to linger in a momentary state of uncertainty as he watched several emotional shifts occur in the woman's eyes. He felt a flickering surge of energy as she stared at him a coiled viper, prepared to strike for some perceived insult he'd never meant to give. Fingers tensing over the edges of the crate, he prepared to raise it to fend her off but found after a tight breath that she worked it out.

Still so volatile, unstable. He wondered how long it would take for those two halves of her soul to finally find equillibrium again. What would it take?

Dissero gently cleared his throat to break the silence, "the stairs are...just back there. Careful, they're a bit narrow."

She turned without a word and carefully wended her way to the designated doorway. The tigress slipped up the steps and out of sight to explore her new home.

[member="The Revenant"]

 

[Gabriel Sionoma]

Hitting a soft spot of mud and peat and silt, Gabriel sunk to his waist in what he assumed was a portion of solid soil. Smacking the ground with the flat of his hand, he huffed and blew air from his lips. Disheveled gray and black hair fluttered over his forehead as he looked around. No branches in sight, the closest thing a dead snag in the center of a bog, rolling fog cascading about like smoke. He exhaled and pushed his hands into the mud, feeling about. With a look of surprise, he pulled a muddy board from the soil and laid it in front of him. Using the increased surface area, he pulled himself out like a man sent from a boat, rocking a boat for level.

Stepping on it, he lunged forward and landed on a hard log. Leaning back over, he pulled the board to him, deciding to carry it with him in case he lost his footing once more.

The break in the vegetation indicated one thing to him: he was going the wrong way. If the shop was out in this area, he could have landed his star viper or floated above and dropped in. The vegetation was far too open for this to be the spot. He sighed and wiped his hands on his armorweave robe, before scratching his forehead. Reaching out with his force presence, he sat down on the log and closed his mind. The swamp was quiet but alive with whispers of noise, buzzes abound, the ever occasional bubble of water. Birds swooping down and skimming water, the flap of their wings, and the rare growl of a beast in the woods.

The woods, the forest. He felt it, a snap of his head as honey brown eyes starred down a foraging corridor. His vision focused in on it, the heat of light from the distance. This place didn't know the sun, but heat seemed to find trapping with gases. But in that location, he knew it was his path. Now he just needed to get to it.

Stepping across the log, board in hand, he plopped down into the forested wetland. Placing his hand upon the trunks, he felt the age of his place, he felt the passage of others looking for something. Psychometry might help, but it would hardly light his way. Each step meticulous, boot feeling for solid Cypress root, he continued to listen to this place. The whispers were there to be heard if he could simply have the patience to listen.

Water up to mid thigh, he continued to move forward with a guided sense and confidence that he would invariably get to where he was going. Foot set upon decaying stumps and rigid adventitious roots.

[member="Dissero"]​

 

[Dissero]

"Cera? Everything alright?"

An hour had passed. Maybe more. Dissero was not want for any hurry - comfort was something that took time and, he supposed, it would take longer here. The woman now under his watch was not accustomed to such places for living; she was of a refined stock meant for the luxuries of the civilized, modernized world. She'd spent the majority of her life living like royalty on Coruscant. Even on Korriban and Honoghr her places of homestead had been prime and sleek. Comfortable.

He worried she might never come to fully appreciate the warmth of this place. Annaj's storefront had become one of his favorites after losing track of Coldharbor and what remained of his stores and stock there. Dissero like the peace here, the separation from society. The landscape of mud and fog and grey where secrets could develop and bloom and no one would be the wiser except those who already knew about them.

But no one knew about this secret except two other people.

Dissero walked to the bottom of the stairs, looking up into the dark with a brow knit in mild concern, "Cera?" Tentatively he ascended the stairs, blue eyes searching through the uppermost railing of the landing for the figure of his sister. He found her standing before the bay windows staring out through the gloom intently.

"Something wrong?" he glanced around as he cleared the last few steps, noting that her things remained untouched, still packed. A hand lifted to itch at the back of his head, despondent grunt escaping him as he noted the amount of dust covering a nearby bookshelf. He wiped at it with a hand, "Jas...knew I shouldn't have expected him to bother cleaning. I'll give the place a once-over tonight before you go to bed and we'll make sure you have new linens tomorrow. Sorry - wasn't really expecting to be bringing you here. You know Sila," he caught a sharp glance from her, "...mother. Everything on a whim."

A few steps further into the room, Cera turned her gaze back out the window.

"At least she still had all your old things? Bit of a miracle isn't it, that it survived for so long...suppose that's a bit of a sting actually. Bring back all those memories. If you want we can take a trip into the city and get you all new clothing. That could be fun right? Or not...what are you..." he narrowed his eyes and slowly moved over to her at the window, looking out as well, "what are you looking at?"

Someone, unseen yet felt, moving in the distance.

"Well...something to get used to. We don't get too many customers at this location, but they're usually big spenders. But you don't worry about that right now, I'll take care of this one."

[member="The Revenant"]

 

[Gabriel Sionoma]

A branch broke as he grabbed it's frail offering, falling forward towards the water. A root, upright and out of water caught him by the waist as he let out a groan. Wincing, with a glare towards the paltry offering of sunlight in the woods, he lifted himself from it, drenched and dripping. Squinting his eyes, he couldn't recall his actual path through this place. The Star Viper a memory left somewhere in the past, his senses were scratching at the paint, finding antiquity beneath. He couldn't place it but his senses, they drove him forward as he high stepped through the water, pushing forward. A magnetic north, he continued to use his hand against peeling bark, feeling his way through this place. But just as ancient was the slop and silt beneath him, his destination began to radiate strongly with such an aura.

The flooded pines, the flooded hardwood forests, leafs littered the surface, coated in stains of the stagnate water. Now rippling over from his movement through, his hand drifted through the warmth and fingers disappeared into the darkness. It felt like water but looked like tar, 2 inches beneath the surface, as chemicals pulled from detritus stained the translucent sheen black. Until finally, the woods cleared in their entirety to reveal a wooden structure on stilts. Torch light at the base, a boardwalk upon pylons, Gabriel smiled until he realized that the next expanse was open water. Giant cedar branches stringing fingers over the canopy to give a green ambiance and glow, reflection of water against understory.

Pulling the force to him, he stepped up on a ledge of roots and balanced himself. With a projection of his aura, he flung himself across the open water, wind whipping his armorweave robe about and giving it a solid drying. But he over powered for the weight he normally hoisted in armor, hitting the boardwalk and skittering off it. Turning before the fall, he hit the water with fingers clasping to a pylon. A mental exhalation, he pulled himself up and rolled on to the planks. After taking a few moments to humble himself, he stood up and grabbed the robe by the end, ringing it out, as he looked around.

The structure was above him, stairs of wood would lead the way, and the boardwalk trailed back off into the woods in the opposite direction. Likely the actual appropriate route for entering and exiting, he huffed as he scratched his forehead. Making a mental note to take that easy way out, he started to walk quietly up the stairs, wet hand drying against the treated wood of the guarrdrails. That old feeling, feeling of ancient power through presence and trinkets and unknown entity, it was all but blaring in his ear now. He pressed on his tragus and opened his mouth, trying to get his ear to pop, as he approached the door and knocked.

[member="Dissero"]​

 

[Dissero]

" -'s open," came a gruff voice from inside followed by the sound of something heavy being dragged.

The door gave a long, loud creak as it swung in by Gabriel's hand and what met his gaze was much the same as most other Marrow & Illskins stores. Their layouts, while not a carbon copy of one another, were similar in nature and structure. Everything was more or less in the same place in one store as it was in another. Differences in stock, however, were taken into account. Annaj almost always had the better stock of weapons whereas Varunda IX boasted a plethora of crystals and this new unique wood.

Interest often begets flux. When demand for said wood grew on Annaj, so too did the supply.

It was not Dissero that owned the voice inside, but a man named Ereza Kep who could be found flitting from one store to another, bringing fresh stock and trading out that which had sat for too long in one location. If you frequented at least one store long enough, you'd likely met him once. Jasker the storekeep of Annaj seemed to not be there. Unusual, as it was very rare to see him anywhere other than the chair behind the counter.

Kep dragged a large wooden chest into the back Archives room, grunting with effort.

"Jasker's out," he growled from the back, "if yeh need something let me know. An' wipe yer feet. Got 'nuff bog in here already."

[member="The Revenant"]

 

[Gabriel Sionoma]

The door moaned as the handle released it from the frame, Gabriel stepping into this rustic place. It smelled of wood and leathers and oils, resin and the like. He could hear the sound of heavy chest against the slats of the floor, dragging it's way through the back of the storefront. The jingle of rusted metal handle against it's own facing, he raised his eyebrow as honey brown eyes scanned the place slowly. Wiping his feet, he tensed as he felt the presence within the place. "Jesker..." He said quietly to himself, not knowing the names of those who tended to this particular place. Just as in his effort to get to this place, the process had been a walk through the dark.

"Ankarres wood and leather..." He said loudly, pulling the damp hood from his head, running fingers through the gray and black hair. He could throw out an abundance of other things that he needed, particular ingots and ores, alloys and metals, crystals and stones. But from what he could see, it was a relatively easy thing to find. A rack against the wall contained an assortment of items, particularly refined metals. No labeling. That was fine, he had grown accustomed to sorting that out.

He ran his finger across a particular block, the dust pulled away revealed electrum beneath. An ornamental metal but one he could use, nonetheless. When someone makes a lightsaber, they enjoy the idea of setting it apart. Even with a useless metal like this, it had its place. Just like everything else in the universe. Everything had a utility.

Turning away from it, he approached a wall, running his finger across the sharpened blades of relics. The sort that he didn't know the name, but the antiquity was enough to incline him towards the idea of importance. They had to be significant in some way, lest there be no reason for the crafting in the first place. "And any information you might have on lightside alchemy..."

[member="Dissero"]​

 

[Dissero]

"Seems yeh sh'ed know a fing or two about tha' if'n yer askin after the Ankarres," Kep grumbled as he set himself down on a chair, strange eyes lifting to watch through the Archive doorway after the customer. The man sighed, lifting a hand to itch at his ruddy blond head before throwing open the chest hatch.

"Jes' got sem Ankarres in here now," a calloused hand patted the hatch top, "catchin' on quick, idn't it?"

He withdrew a medium slab, the bark grain rough in his hands, and set it aside, "Is'sah fing of Lightside Alchemy is'self, accordin' to the man-in-charge. I don' know much of alchemy meself, I jes ...move the stuff aroun'."

Soft footsteps echoed from the back stairwell behind the counter. A woman emerged from the shadow there, rich burgundy curls strewn about a careworn face. Spying the man, rose-violet eyes took him in with a deafening, intense silence - the tigress sizing up an unknown quarry in a new home that was still so much a mystery.

"I fink I 'ave somefing 'ere for it; notes from the creator of Ankarres," Kep gave a cough as he pulled out a worn journal and flipped through the pages, "but it ain't transcribed yet. Check back in a week or so n'it should be ready."

[member="The Revenant"]

 

[Gabriel Sionoma]

The rumble, the sort that he recalled in his prison cell. The feeling of a volcano adjacent to him, the turning and tossing of a planet. He knew this feeling but it felt different, sharper, like cosmic power pushed into a pin prick. Like the trees that fall to the fire, the ocean spray that rises, and someone had tried to trap that in an open container. It poured out, smoke and steam twirling about, the growl of a planet through rose-violet eyes. Gabriel heard the man talk but his eyes drifted to the woman and her auburn hair, a curious squint of his eyes, as he turned back to the vendor and tried to recall exactly what he said. Between the distraction and his curious accent, Gabriel rolled his tongue over his back teeth.

Running his fingers across the grain of the ankarres slab, feeling the kasha stone and shards of upari crystals, he felt that same feeling as before. Something great beneath the splinters, but it felt dull in this place. Where he had thought the antiquity of the shop drew him through the swamp, it was evidently this figure that sat silent. He'd thank her for the help, the lighthouse through the dark, but he felt that very comparison adequately run its course through her. She felt new and old, dark and light, and at odds with herself. He couldn't tell whether she was sizing him up or looking for a fight, the intent confused him. So he turned back towards the man and blinked.

"A week...that's fine." He searched his pockets. Knowing his passage took him through swamp, and his anachronistic tendencies, he had scribbled his list on nerf hide from a recent butchering instead of using parchment or datapad. Pulling the damp leather out, he unfolded it, a small purple dantari crystal. Scratching his beard, he exhaled. "Do you have any of these? I found a small cache containing one of them but I'd like more." He pushed the item forward. "And 4 of those electrum ingots with alchemized leather, if you have any."

[member="Dissero"]​

 

[Dissero]

Kep made a thoughtful sound as he grabbed up the Ankarres slabs - five medium pieces in all - and shuffled through the narrow isle to inspect the item in his hand.

"Dantari," the man's yellow eyes casually drifted to the woman standing behind the counter, statuesque in her stance as she was - her gaze had shifted from Gabe's face to the crystal in question.

"Thassa rare color, it is," Kep remarked and itched at the stubble on his chin, "fraid I don' 'ave any purple, but-eh," placing the Ankarres slabs on the counter with a noise intended to break the woman's stare but failed utterly in doing so, he grunted and turned to walk dog-legged over to a dusty glass display case. The man pulled a ring of keys from his jacket and fiddled for several minutes, muttering as he went about finding the right one.

The woman took a step forward, stopping at the back of the counter, eyes locked on that crystal. There was a part of her that felt an intimate familiarity with it and her gaze narrowed, head tilted as she tried to internally work out why.

Until the pieces of your soul settle and realign, everything will be difficult. Emotions will run rampant, unchecked. Memories will come and go, sometimes in great floods and other times in faint trickles, and then even not at all...

Images of bright violet - a blade glowing hot in a roiling mass of unidentified memory. The scent of the man, of the swamps surrounding them permeating that wall between the physical and metaphysical grew within her mind an image of Myrkyr. A miasma of shadows, furling and writhing, massive and clinging, sprouting from the ground. There had been a man...

THUNK.

She blinked, the vision immediately dissipating before her mind's eye, and bristled noticeably at the loss. Her eyes flashed a vehement glint of red as she turned to look for the source of the interruption.

"Roight," said Kep while locking up the case, "two green and a blue. Thassall we 'ave 'ere," he placed a small velvet-lined tray on the counter within which the crystal's twinkled, "more at the Varunda store. A'least there were las' time I checked. No promises."

[member="The Revenant"]

 

[Gabriel Sionoma]

His eyes moved lazily from the man to the woman, in presentation of stone, as she focused on the gem planted against untreated leather. She wasn't looking at him anymore but something else entirely, staring through him as a creature that looks beyond the trees for the game that hides behind it. Smells and flavors, the expression of something ghostly, he looked towards the store tender and watched him ruffle through keys. But just like eyes that meet in an awkward silence, darting away from each other in the moment, he caught a glimpse of those eyes once more. And the flash of red that followed, to the sound of a cabinet closing, with the approach of the man once more.

He laid a small array of stones out, green and blue. Almost identical to his own, he inspected the elements with a watchful eye, for any fractures in crystals. "Rare...perhaps." He exhaled. "But not precious to me, not nearly as much as it might be to others."

He had garnered a simple watchful gaze from the mysterious figure, but the stone, the stone had been rewarded with proximity and the light step of foot. He didn't know why, but he was inclined towards bartering. "My purse doesn't allow for purchase of these. But I would appreciate the favor. Trade with me, your three more common stones for my more rare one." He lifted it from the binding, the force taking over in an expression of telekinesis, as he floated it to the auburn haired woman, for her to claim if she wanted it. He looked back towards Kep and smirked. "I fear the stone doesn't favor my eyes nearly so well..."

In truth, it was simply of matter of his character. It meant nothing to him, it might mean something to them. Or to her. He wasn't sure which one mattered more to him.

[member="Dissero"]​

 

[Dissero]

Kep exchanged a glance with the man and the hovering stone, eyes straying towards the silent woman as her own honed in on the gem.

"Mmm," the man rubbed at his chin and nodded, "lessee," and reached to pluck it from the air where it spun. He held it up to a nearby lantern and turned it this way and that, rolling the edges through rough fingers, seeming to test the feel of it, "tha' be a fair trade. Now lessee to them ovver fings..."

Four electrum ingots, a medium slab of Ankarres wood, and three lengths of alchemized vornskr hide later Kep stepped around to the back of the counter. He spent a moment conversing with the woman as much as one could with someone who seemed to be stubbornly reticent, handed her the worn leather-bound journal from before and gently escorted her back to the archival room. She disappeared without another look back at their customer.

"Roight," a rough clearing of the throat as Kep returned and shuffled back behind the counter and produced a datapad from his jacket, "tha' should do yeh fer today, ay?" Total tallied, Kep set the pad on the counter and turned it to Gabe, "Gave yeh a brek on the leavver. Tha' purple stone worth a bit more than them three ovvers."

[member="The Revenant"]

 

[Gabriel Sionoma]

His eye contact broke from the woman as the man lifted stone from air. Lazily, his eyes drifted back to Kep as he weighed the value of the stone, eyes drifting to the stone and its fondling. Giving a nod, he wrapped hand in hand and rung the moisture from it, glancing around the facility as he waited for the return.

And the man came back, absent his female companion, the void felt but the presence still abrupt and jarring. He looked over the datapad and leather. He knew it, that particular grain and felt, Vornskr hide. His mind drifted back to the tower of Taloraan, flung from it's brass symbol, to careen downward to the roofs below. He shook his head and pulled the necessary credits to cover the rest of the sum. "I appreciate your honesty on the matter..." Truthfully, the cache had come with a few of those precious dantari crystals. But knowing their worth, he preferred to not travel with such a lump value.

Laying the ingots and crystals in the middle of the hide, he tied the leather around it in a bundle, placing the slab of wood atop it. He exhaled and scratched his beard. "I don't imagine you know an easier way out of the swamp then the route I took coming in..." He hadn't exactly taken the most direct route. "That boardwalk out there, it lead along a more proper path?"

[member="Dissero"]​

 

[Dissero]

Kep gave a sidelong glance out towards the exit of the store, itching at at a sallow cheek, "Tha' walk goes on fer 'bout a mile 'fore it sinks in. Pops up again 'ere an there. You keep followin' it, it'll take yeh back to town...'ventually."

He didn't seem too concerned with the state of disrepair the boardwalk was in.

Kep gave a rueful grin, yellow teeth showing, "Good luck," turning with a cackle he moved back to the archive room and his womanly companion.

[member="The Revenant"]

 

[Gabriel Sionoma]

"Still better than the route I took in..." He pulled up his hood and smiled with a nod, grabbing his goods and exhaling. It was a decent walk, with some jumping along the way, but it seemed to fit better than the wading he had done previously. One week. He'd be back for the details regarding that lightside alchemy transcription. Closing the door behind him, the Marrow and Illskin facility disappeared in his rear view, along creaky and cracked boards. Still better than the route I took in.

~~~​

​

The new landing spot was the more abrupt entrance to the boardwalk, clearing of thicket and vine paved way for the slats and guardrail. Though without having known it was there, Gabriel likely would have missed it entirely. It looked simply like a bushwhacked path someone might have use to poach rare bog plants from the wetlands held within. The town, if it could be called that, seemed a breeding ground for quiet dialogue. The quasi spaceport wasn't much, enough to allow entrance into the vertical space over the city limits, but nothing more. Gabriel had gotten a few odd looks on his way through the place, scouting out the location before leaving the Star Viper planted in a more public location.

Pulling up his hood, he heard the flick of the leaves. And then another, until the forest tops clapped to his entrance. The rain bludgeoning down, fat and heavy, he tightened his hood and huffed. It seemed like no matter how he went about this, he was meant to be damp and downtrodden. But things were looking up, the satchel around his shoulder contained a number of items for trading, he had learned new methods of carving out the ankarres wood, and he might get a look at some clues to lightside alchemy. All for the budding hobby of doing things for others, idle tasks focused towards the idea of being productive.

As he walked, he was reminded of gaps and potholes that the yellow toothed man had spoken of. The likes of which he had seen a couple weeks prior. After all, space travel took time, and he had other work that needed tending. A week pushed the limit.

After his mile plus trudge back through the wetlands, the croak of frogs and the splash of water from the sky and wetland, Gabriel found the view of the storefront once more. And he found that same feeling he had felt before, that guiding light surfacing through the darkness. She was still here. He had fixed his interpretation to her presence, not the relics held within the small store or the aura, or lack thereof, coming from Kep. It was with those thoughts that he ascended the stairs, knocking on the door. It was early morning, he wondered if they were open yet. He could have messaged via holonet but that felt somewhat at odds with the nature of the place.

[member="Dissero"]​

 

[Dissero]

NOK. NOK. NOK. NOK. NOK.

The sound of hammer against wood echoed up through the din of rain on the roof. Further investigation following the wrap-around porch would reveal Kep at the backside of the house opposite the boardwalk hard at work on the roof fixing a leak. He was soaked, oh but he was saturated by the weather and looked all the world like a drowned rat. Kep never did claim to be handsome.

"Ayy," he greeted Gabriel with nails pinched in his teeth, "yeh din' drown. 'as good."

WOKWOKWOKWOK. Another barrage of quick strikes to drive in a particularly stubborn nail.

"Door's open," he called down after pulling the nails from his mouth and waved the man inside with a static sweep of an arm.

~~~

Ding.

The smell of the swamp stopped at the door to be immediately overcome by the aroma of an earthy, sweet something. Soft sounds of a crackling fire and bubbling liquid echoed from the alchemy room. The shadow of the woman lingering in the archive room could be seen from the entrance.

[member="The Revenant"]

 

[Gabriel Sionoma]

"Nah, haven't drown yet...I'm sure I'll figure it out eventually..." He said with a wave and a smile. He could have offered to help the man, having spent some time working on the homestead recently. Repair of the roof was often the name of the game, on a 15 or 35 year interval. For the homestead, it was about 70 years overdue. Opening the door, he shook the wetness off him as he pulled the armorweave robe from his back and clamped it to the coat hangar.

The smell was nostalgic in a sense, reminding him of the rustic and Tuscan style home on Sulon. The smell of wood burning, the life of the smoke as it weaved it's way into the fibers of everything, he found a certain longing for it. Placing the satchel down on the counter top, brown eyes lifted from the dented wood and top to the back room. The origin of the smell, the origin of that particular presence, the faint hints of something otherworldly. He scanned back towards the door, recalling how guarded Kep was over the vicinity of the storefront.

Pressing his hand against the counter in contemplation as he wiped his wet hair back over his head, he slowly approached the open door. As he saw the woman in her archive facility, his eyes drifted to the alchemic devices held within, the burning of wood against metal grates, the senses entangled with physical stimuli. His eyes lifted to the view of auburn hair, always in seeming silence, as he exhaled and took into the subtle tones of ash. Approaching a relic, he placed his hands against it, hoping to try and pull information from the surface via psychometry. But like the woman's identity, and the identity of this place, it seemed off limits to him.

"Do you have a name..?" He spoke to the woman without looking back towards her. His intention clear, unless there were more people within the shop, whom would have gone undetected by the man. More or less focused on the banter of this particular presence.

[member="Dissero"]​

 

[Dissero]

Sitting at the table with several tomes and datapads settled about her, the woman looked up briefly at the sound of Gabriel's approach. Silence persisted - the woman went back to her work of transcribing a work of archaic languages by hand while the man poked about the shelves of a nearby case. A creak of moist floorboards, the scratching of quill across parchment, the gentle bubbling of that sweet-smelling-something towards the back, the crackle of the fire.

A soft intake of breath.

"Do you have a name..?"

A sudden ripple in what had been a still, serene pool. Energy - previously tumultuous and seething - now steady, a controlled simmer contained within. The quill stopped moving, the woman turned from her work to a small table nearby where she picked up a brassy object from a velveteen pillow. Circular in shape, at first glance it appeared to be a large compass or pocket watch - metallic casing with a sprung cover toggled by a switch at the one side; three crowns; a noticeable weight both physical and non. There was a power contained within the object as old and mysterious as she. The brass and golden case gleamed in the firelight as she smoothed delicate fingers over the surface and stood from her seat, presenting the object to the man and offering it for him to look at.

The Mastercraft etchings along the case front revealed a name in fine script:

Cerusia Shamalain

It was an alethiometer, it was her holocron. A piece of her soul resided there as well as all the memories of her very long life ... and the lives to have touched it for long after.

 

[Gabriel Sionoma]

He looked into her violet eyes, as she cut away from her work and presented a golden item for his hands. With a tender caress that might come with the handing over of goods, he felt a mystic antiquity laden within not just the golden object, but in the briefest moments of touch. He made a thoughtful expression, curiosity overcoming him as he looked back to the face slightly shrouded by drapes of burning burgundy. Eyes drawing down to the item, agelessness of the device flowed through his finger tips as he felt just a morsel of what stood beneath the nearly still glass of her porcelain skin.

"Cerusia Shamalain?" He wasn't sure if that was her name or some incantation, the likes of which he had no obvious talent. As there was no response that he could discern, even among the bubbling and burning of logs that would indicate some potential mystic consequence. His arms felt heavy holding it, his fingers running over the crowns and trim. Pressing around the edges, resemblance of a pocket watch married to a compass, the object clicked open with a spring inlaid in the ornamental designs along its equator.

He was briefly overwhelmed with the articulate embellishment. Having taken up crafting recently, in mending of the broken pieces of his heart, contained within the healing carcass that contained it, idle and meaningful work allowed him a chance to not think about the ache. A furrowing of his brow accompanied his attempts to make out symbols and emblems he didn't understand. It was the same with her, her identity and presence. She understood him all too well as by the expression of it in her eyes, in the micro expressions that some might miss. But for the intuitive nature of a man once stuck in a body that he couldn't control, he understood all too well.

"Have you always been mute?" He couldn't help himself, not entirely sure she would take to communication beyond what she had already done. After all, she wasn't likely to have a relic that would specifically answer this question. Unless, of course, it was a simple yes or no.

[member="Dissero"]​

 

[Dissero]

The use of an Alethiometer was as intuitive as it was instinctive, and sometimes ... natural. For Cerusia Shamalain it had been all three, and for the man standing before her it was something a bit more esoteric. What was in a question? More than words, more than curiosity, but an intent behind the processes of the mind and the spirit. A desire to seek out answers where none were forwardly given. That carried through from the mind, into the body, expressed through passive energies into the artifact in his hands.

Sometimes answers happen by chance alone.

Upon the face of the Alethiometer the fine point of the fourth needle began to move. Roving like a compass lost within the hills it seemed insistent on flickering awry until finally it settled, briefly, upon the symbol of an hourglass, then moved again. Counterclockwise it found a secondary pause over an Alpha Omega symbol and proceeded to circumnavigate back to the Hourglass, and back again, and again. Over and over.

Cerusia's gaze drifted down from one face to the other and watched the fourth needle with intrigue. Curious how quickly it had reacted to the man - even Dissero had difficulty getting answers from it. The ability to hold a question in one's mind so lightly, as if attempting to touch a cloud but never to capture it, was a rare skill indeed.

One had to be content with not truly knowing the answer but learning it in raw. Oftentimes the answers people were presented were not the ones they wished to have.

She looked back to him, head faintly tilted in curiosity. Could he read it? Decipher the symbols?

[member="The Revenant"]