Keepin Corellia Weird
Location: Okyaab VI, Ordo Homestead
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4N3N1MlvVc4
Where does one go when ones own mind has gone mad? When the life and galaxy as you know it is just... Not so anymore? You got to one who has lived through it, and worse. Whose troubles makes yours seem like spilled milk on the kitchen floor. So that is why Ijaat had gone dark. The galaxy, for what must seem like the hundreth time, thought him dead. He had a habit with that particular act. But this time, he was in a wholly different body, and a Force User to boot. Nothing remotely about him spoke of the aging Aliit'buir of House Mereel.
As the shuttle touched down roughly, Ijaat groused about being no better a pilot then before, and the engines whined down to dead quite quickly. Stepping out was a different man garbed in simple green and tan workmans clothes of a nondescript nature. Well dressed, and groomed. A single DE-10 hung low on his right hip, and the gleaming two-handed saber like beskad he had made in his old life rode at his left hip in its electrum studded belt, soft bantha leather dueling 'gauntlets' tucked into the small of his back around said belt. Each step rang with a click and clip, durasteel heel and toe bandings on his boots echoing on the ramp.
Looking about, he grunted a bit. Ordo wasn't one he knew well really, but this place seemed odd for a man of his reputation. And it had been hard to find. Terribly hard. He shifted the pack at his gun-hip, something within giving a heavy clunk and gazed about. Sighting a little ranch or settlement, he sat off for it at an idle pace. Stance relaxed, form open and unworried. If Ordo hadn't gotten his messages, then... Well, he was dead no matter what if he willed it. And if he had, then he might still be. And having already died once, really, this month, he wasn't so worried about such a prospect again...
So he would walk, and raise his hand as he crossed to the ranch, letting out a 'hallo' and stopping.
[member="Ordo"]
