Ee'everwest Summer Home
Surrounding Grounds
Lake Country, Naboo
Sometime after the Gala, yet prior to the Cataclysm
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The mornings of many recent days left him pensive; the dreams his mind cobbled together from his wonderings, his processes of thought, giving him more questions than answers. The gala had been an enjoyable evening and a fantastic reprieve from the deep work that preceded it,
Teyla Sal-Soren
making better company than he expected, or with his summary knowledge of her thus far, better company than she might think he deserved. She pulled the wool over his eyes, and too well, at that... but why? He was no fool; she was too proud, too stubborn, and had bristled too strongly at his manner of being, to have suddenly changed tack, to just like? him despite who he had shown himself to be - for his half-truthful façade, what with his own reservation at revealing more of himself... that being beside the point.
"I hope you've been spending time with my holocron," he started, "I'd like to see what you've managed. If you've managed."
By now the whole matter of that night was less confusing, and by now he had separated that beguiling memory of her from the reality of the woman in the here and now. But it wasn't easy. That dress didn't leave much to the imagination, and he found himself mentally giving her his jacket every time it floated across his consciousness. To not make the effort would be disrespectful to her, as a woman, regardless of everything.
"Then something new, if I'm satisfied you're ready."
It wasn't just his bluster she took exception to. He pulled the unlit cigarra from between his lips and pushed off the large stone he was reclined against, and gestured to said dark gray stone that had to be one-third the size of a fully-grown Hutt.
"Move that. Whatever way you can. No touching."
Surrounding Grounds
Lake Country, Naboo
Sometime after the Gala, yet prior to the Cataclysm
--------------------------------
The mornings of many recent days left him pensive; the dreams his mind cobbled together from his wonderings, his processes of thought, giving him more questions than answers. The gala had been an enjoyable evening and a fantastic reprieve from the deep work that preceded it,
Teyla Sal-Soren
making better company than he expected, or with his summary knowledge of her thus far, better company than she might think he deserved. She pulled the wool over his eyes, and too well, at that... but why? He was no fool; she was too proud, too stubborn, and had bristled too strongly at his manner of being, to have suddenly changed tack, to just like? him despite who he had shown himself to be - for his half-truthful façade, what with his own reservation at revealing more of himself... that being beside the point."I hope you've been spending time with my holocron," he started, "I'd like to see what you've managed. If you've managed."
By now the whole matter of that night was less confusing, and by now he had separated that beguiling memory of her from the reality of the woman in the here and now. But it wasn't easy. That dress didn't leave much to the imagination, and he found himself mentally giving her his jacket every time it floated across his consciousness. To not make the effort would be disrespectful to her, as a woman, regardless of everything.
"Then something new, if I'm satisfied you're ready."
It wasn't just his bluster she took exception to. He pulled the unlit cigarra from between his lips and pushed off the large stone he was reclined against, and gestured to said dark gray stone that had to be one-third the size of a fully-grown Hutt.
"Move that. Whatever way you can. No touching."