Questions

[Taheera Sollo]

The speeder-bike revved and sputtered beneath her legs. A frown pulled at dark lips. Definitely second hand but it was all the Jedi could afford on short notice. Chestnut haired head tipped to the sky a moment.

Storms on the horizon.

She could feel that same buzzing sensation just like on the island with Val. So many things had changed since she'd...died. Myrtle-ellipses snapped forward toward a highway sign. She was getting close. Some information lead her to a man named [member="Gabriel Sionoma"].

Hopefully, this man would have some of the answers she was searching for. A man who lived in the middle of this place of rolling hills, farmland, and woods.

 

[Gabriel Sionoma]

A storm.

Eyes drifted from the harvest at hand skywards, looking over the incoming system. A dark billowing and ruffled blanket, slowly dragging across the meager hills of wheat and windswept prairie grass. The thump of thunder, lightning concealed within the gray, heralded the shadow of it's likeness across the terrain. Like soft foot steps in a mutually peaceful environment.

A storm was a rare thing in the land of drought. Tap trees stood vigilant within desiccated canyons and condensers littered the forest edges and the boundaries of the homestead, capturing what could be caught in lieu of water shipments from offworld. But to witness the occasional storm, rumbling over the land, was considered a blessing. No matter what damage or destruction was wrought. It was quite expected for Baron's Hed inhabitant to lose power or suffer from torrential flooding as the infrastructure wasn't constructed in a manner befitting storms of such magnitude.

"Oh Dear! That is quite the storm."
"I forgot something over on that Hill, Dick." Gabe lifted an arm lazily towards the crest with nothing evident in sight. "Mind fetching it for me?"
"And get struck by lightning! Heavens no, Sir. Unlike you, I prefer avoidance of electricity."

Gabe smiled at the low blow, pressing his fingers against the scars at the center of his palm. Dick hobbled back inside the homestead, seeking the safety built into the brick and mortar. But Gabe was of a different sort, enjoying the spectacle of lightning against the horizon and the shift of the winds. Gripping the rusted scythe, his eyes followed the horizon. The sound of thunder and gusting winds blocked out any noise, even that of an incoming speeder. The security systems would have likely given hint towards the incoming guest, but he was far too removed to hear or see it.

[member="Taheera Sollo"]

 

[Taheera Sollo]

[member="Gabriel Sionoma"]

The wind whipped up sand and dirt in her face as if they were really tiny shards of glass. The rain felt like rock pellets. She kept thinking it had turned to hail but it hadn't. Cowl whipped wildly behind her, completely useless, even as she slowed the speeder.

That buzzing energy she felt pooled inside her, making her feel as though she'd drunken six too many cups of caf.

By the time the speeder pulled up to the homestead, there wasn't an inch of green skin un-soaked. Legs trembled as she unsaddled the speeder-bike. The homestead cast a warm and inviting glow in the growing storm. Boots filled with rain water sloshed to the entrance. Fingers curled into a green fist as she went to knock on the front door.

Just as the lights went out.

"For frex's sake..."

 

[Gabriel Sionoma]

Hazel eyes drifted towards the ceiling. Soft white, though it neared somewhere between white and orange, flickered with every thump of the thunder. With every gap of luminescence, the homestead was filled with flashes of blue light from the ominous clouds that hung low over the building. He let out a slow sigh, realizing that he would likely need to walk downstairs and kick on the emergency generators. Just as he was opening the door to proceed downward, he heard something slightly akin to another thunder clap. But it didn't seem to shake the glass.

He peaked around the corner, catching what appeared to be a shadow at the front door. Looking back up towards a window, hanging high on the wall for ambiance, he could only imagine what sort of condition one had to be in to brave this sort of storm at this exact moment. Closing the door to the basement, he stepped slowly towards the door and pulled it open. The pressure from the incoming gust caused the door to almost cave in towards him.

He took another deep breath as he looked towards what he only assumed was a female Mirialin. After all, Destin was of the same physiology. The deep breath held for just a moment as he saw the ghost of someone who didn't exist. Not anymore.

Shaking himself from the memories of scars that would likely never heal, he looked up towards the sky and the rain bucketing down from it. Looking back towards the stranger, he stepped aside with an ounce of reluctance and waved in towards the breezeway. The power had gone out completely now and he was determined to remedy the situation.

"I don't know who you are but...I'm not one to leave someone standing in the rain. Come on in out of that..."

[member="Taheera Sollo"]

 

[Taheera Sollo]

[member="Gabriel Sionoma"]

Water carved its way down her face in tiny streams. A burst of wind knocked the soaking cowl from her chestnut-haired head as the door bannged open. The mirialan blinked in the near-dark, catching a glimpse of the man's face in a flash of lightning. It took no small measure of self-control not to take a half step back.

Fingers clutched tightly around the collar of her jacket, the other around the small bag's strap slung over her shoulder.

Chin nodded and she shuffled inside, trailing puddles of water behind her. Feet gave tiny stamps as she tried to brush as much water as possible from her dripping form. "Thank you," she found her voice. One that was weary from traveling and from...so many other things. "My name's Taheera." Last names might come later. If trust was ever built.

"I'm looking for someone named Gabriel Sionoma."

Another flash of lightning lit up the breezeway and the man's bristled face.

 

[Gabriel Sionoma]

A clap of thunder cut the silence between them, ever apparent with the momentary pause. The man had become accustomed to transient wanderers knocking on his door, finding shelter and safety beneath his roof. But they rarely came equipped with his name.

He was ever quick to give it away but found reminder in utterance from a foreign face, in the way it was carried and spoken. After all, it was the name another would have carried in infamy. A fate for his name, a string of actions that bore self admonishment and guilt. That sort of resilient annoyance of mental self-flagellation he only assumed would turn him into the person he hoped to be.

"Gabe...just Gabe." He wasn't sure that was truly his preference. But for the rainy day and the mixture of fear and exhaustion that painted her countenance, it was all he could seem to muster. While she shared no true resemblance with the ghost of his past, he couldn't shake the familiarity. And the way his heart grew colder with the realization, he couldn't deny that he still had those feelings.

With every glance at his children, given away, he was reminded of the very thing he made attempt to deny. There was no place in a Jedi's heart for anger. But as Avalore had once said so succinctly in recognition of unneeded title: Gabe wasn't a Jedi.

He reached over, pulling the door closed behind her before stepping back. Flinging a thumb towards the ceiling, fingers curved into a ball, he frowned. "Generator downstairs just needs to be kicked on. I've got a sensor on it that reads current through the house, but it seems to be on the fritz. Make yourself at home...Taheera."

Just a few steps in and she would be in the kitchen. A long table with stools, an island in the middle of an otherwise homely abode. Stone and wood, metallic when needed, and lit by the sheer ambiance of cloud cover and the occasional strike of lightning. With little to no offered guidance, he opened the door to the basement and headed down to assess the power concerns.

[member="Taheera Sollo"]

 

[Taheera Sollo]

[member="Gabriel Sionoma"]

Oh, this was him.

Chestnut brows shot-up in surprise. She hadn't been expecting, well, she didn't know what she'd been expecting. Perhaps someone older. As he reached over, she became very aware of how close they stood in that moment before the door was firmly closed. She knew the mirialan were more aware of their environment and she wondered if it had something to do with her cold, wet body being attracted to what was naturally warmer. Jaw clenched, slightly.

Just as quickly, the moment was over.

Myrtle-ellipses peered around the in the darkness of the front room. Soaking jacket was peeled off and she cast it on one of the stools. She made to follow Gabe but hesitated, giving the man who was still a stranger just enough room not to feel crowded. "Here...do you need help? I have a light." Cold fingers fumbled in her pack, pulling out a glow-stick, flipping on the light, immediately casting them in a warm, soft glow.

Admittedly, she wouldn't be able to help much beyond that. Machines weren't exactly her thing.

 

[Gabriel Sionoma]

By the time she made the offer of light, he was already half way downstairs. A few moments later, the sound of an engine kicked on and filled the downstairs floor. The slow rumble crept through the floorboards before he reduced the choke. The lights flickered through the primary locations in the house before stabilizing at low power. Closing the metal hatch around the generator, the exterior opened up to allow emissions out into the rain. And it served the purpose of further muffling the sound.

It was dark enough that he hadn't noticed nicking his knuckle on the hatch hinge. Walking quietly back up the stairs, he grabbed a towel from the hallway cupboard and breached the kitchen area once more. "It's fine...I spend a good deal of time down there." Rolling the towel into a burrito shape, he strode slowly around the island before setting it down on the stone countertop. He noticed the deep cut on his knuckle like a dark gash, the warm yellow lights above barely highlighting it.

What was more noticeable was the contrast of his blood on the white towel. He squinted and sighed before turning back towards the sink and cutting the faucet on. "Maybe not enough time..."

The towel was of course offered to help her dry off. But he realized he'd need to fetch another, just as soon as he was done cleaning out the wound to see how bad it was. "You picked an odd time to visit here. We haven't seen rain like this in a good while. Some might say it's lucky." While he looked out through the window above the sink, catching view of the dark bleakness above, he could clearly make out the green hue of her visage in the reflection.

[member="Taheera Sollo"]

 

[Taheera Sollo]

[member="Gabriel Sionoma"]

She set the pack and light on the kitchen island. "Luck or a curse," she muttered and propped her chin up in an upturned palm, elbow resting on that island surface. Myrtle-ellipses tracked from the stained towel to Gabri- Gabe's hand. Another flash of lightning lit up the small space in a moment of blinding light.

Had she started the storm?

Purple-lips curved into a frown. Moving around the island, she stopped next to him. "Here. May I see? Your hand. There's something I can do about that." He'd sense it then, perhaps, the pull from the lightside as she began to gather the force around her. "I'm a healer."

And so many other things. But starting with that seemed appropriate. Clone. Dark transfer. Storm witch. Cursed. Those things could come later - if there was a later.

 

[Gabriel Sionoma]

"How often those two things are confused..." He spoke with the shadow of a smile, knowing all too well the feeling of self-loathing. He could recall how he stepped into the fray of war so soon after entering the Galactic Alliance, quick to prove himself. Maybe for the alliance, maybe for himself, maybe for her. He looked down as her green hands moved to his, fighting some inherent urge to pull away. To muster some form of machismo or to conceal the sense of doubt brought about by her presence, by the familiarity. They looked nothing alike, beyond the tone of their skin, but the way lightning framed her silhouette in the breeze way. It felt like a punch to the stomach.

"I'm...not a big fan of that." Quick healing removed the process inherent in consequence. To prove his point, he turned his palm over. Besides the wounds of the crucifixion, obtained on Lujo, his arms were covered in the scars and tribal inks of a life gone by. Even when Ava took to healing him, as she often did, he only ever accepted begrudgingly. Pain and the healing process, and the weight of his actions, were the only thing that kept him from the early grave he sought through war.

Hazel eyes lifted away from her, towards another window, as blue and white light filled the dark sky with a snap. Through his time on the homestead, speaking with the dark skinned Jedi Master, he had learned to appreciate nature in all it's form of expression. There was power, rippling through the air and across the land, the likes of which was not often seen. "Why are you here, Taheera?" Not that he was unwilling to shelter and house her, as much as she might need. He was not entirely unaccustomed to that and, in fact, such a disposition had become a significant motivation for the upkeep of the home. But she had asked for him by name.

He was no Healer.

He was no Jedi.

And based on the way she healed, with pronounced efficiency, there were far more capable Masters for further training in that art. Under this sun or the next.

"I assume it wasn't to watch me stumble around in the dark..."

[member="Taheera Sollo"]

 

[Taheera Sollo]

[member="Gabriel Sionoma"]

Eyes widened in the semi-dark as Gabe showed her some of his past. The writing on his flesh. She knew every scar had history - a story. Fingers twitched slightly. She had to keep herself from tracing the storylines on his skin.

That would be highly inappropriate.

"I can see that," she spoke quietly. She of all people could understand the value in learning a lesson. And perhaps he was just stubborn. Maybe a mix of wisdom.

Myrtle-ellipses lightened at his comment but no smile reached her lips. His stumbling was slightly endearing. She wandered back to the other side of the island but didn't sit. She had too much wound up energy to sit and anticipation with how Gabe would react with what she had to say. To ask.

Green palms gripped the edges as if she needed grounding.

"What can you tell me about....essence transfer?" Eyes lifted from the countertop and locked with his hazel set. Her surface reflected vulnerability and echoes of fear. Water carved paths down her tattooed cheeks from still-wet hair and her breath held in her throat.

 

[Gabriel Sionoma]

"They're not really...mine." He confessed. "Well, not all of them. I've done a good job of adding my own, I suppose."

The answer came appropriately as she asked a question, regarding a specific technique to which very few had living experience. Calloused fingers lifted, inspecting the wound, like an old scar from time long passed. Going even further, they pushed through his salt and pepper hair, gently tugging at the braids to tighten them. With that, he took a long moment in the darkness to breath in, searching for words as he attempted to recall a memory without visualizing it.

"That's an interesting question, Taheera. I'm a fan of the past in its symbolism and physical display...not so much it's recanting."

He made his way around the table. Now free of blood, he reached down the stairs and grabbed another towel. Rolling it up, he placed it on the island in front of Taheera. "This body is much younger than I am." He pressed a hand against his chest, instinctively. "A number of these scars were put on this body before I inhabited it, to mimic the aesthetics of my former self. Twisted and demented by a parasite." He proceeded around the island, crossing thick arms across his chest. With a heavy lean against the sink, he thought of more ways to detail it. "I was born on Arkania. And then again on Selvaris. In a lab, ejected from my former self."

He scratched his beard, filled with the black and gray that properly detailed his once physical age. "I guess the better question is...what do you want to know about essence transfer? You realize such ability is steeped in the darkside?"

[member="Taheera Sollo"]

 

[Taheera Sollo]

[member="Gabriel Sionoma"]

Chestnut-brows shot up. Fingers finally released their hold on the edge of the island to wrap around the towel, instead. Unraveling the fluff, she held it up to gently weave through soaked hair. But her gaze never left Gabe's. and she wondered, how old was he?

And she had so many questions. A parasite? Injected with his former self. Was he a clone? Who...what...why...how.

She swallowed then breathed. Give it time. And here was his question, the one she knew was coming. She couldn't hide anymore. She couldn't afford to. Only Val knew what happened to her but he wasn't a force user; he had no answers to give.

Gaze drifted down as she felt the weight of vulnerability. Lips parted then closed and then parted again. "I...," she looked up. "You might need to sit down for this. It's long. Complicated. Messy."

Shoulders shrugged a bit helplessly.

"I'm a clone, a copy of a Jedi master healer. But, I think they altered her copy with the man she was married to. I just know the first name: Je'gan. But...this body I'm in now wasn't hers or the one I was born in."

Green fingers curled around the towel tightly as she lowered it. "A few months ago I was killed but I didn't die. I don't know what happened. There was intense pain and a voice....I could feel the darkside and I ended up in the body of the pirate Mirialan who killed me."

Face pressed against the towel as if she could shut everything out. Find a momentary escape. She was a healer. Forcing another soul out, even one that tried to kill her, had been horrifying. And the worst part? She'd had no control. No choice. She'd been forced to live as another with some invisible darkside anchor attached to her soul.

Shoulders shook and she peeled the towel away from her face, there were faint lines along her skin already fading. "It's crazy. I know it's crazy. And...horrifying."

Her gaze was trapped behind Gabe's shoulder at her reflection in the dark window.

There was so much she wanted: help, answers, someone to understand. But she was prepared for the worst. At least, that's what she told herself.

 

[Gabriel Sionoma]

He smiled as she suggested him taking a seat. While he may not have looked it, an eternity of experience lurked beneath pools of burnt caramel. Well, he liked to think he didn't look it. Likening his skin to the sunburned leather and hardened callouses of a working farmer, he realized that age was getting the better of him. And while he still held the altered genetic sequences that provided some form of long lasting livelihood, he had recently felt the encroachment of the autumn of life and what senescence might occur.

More so then he had experienced while encapsulated by his brother. There was much to be said of the power of the darkside and the persistent clingy grip it held on life everlasting.

The utterance of her story washed away any thoughts he might have had towards her visage, her skin tone, and the way those Mirialan markings framed her cheek bones just as they had with Chevu. Instead, his attention could be turned to a much more deep seated pain and the infliction that now faced him. Sitting, soaking wet, and looking for help. And far more forthcoming then he would have expected. Like the tide of water that now threatened to flood his basement, pouring from the heavens, these experiences washed away any awkward feelings he might have had towards her.

She, on the other hand, might have preferred his standoffish appeal. Otherwise, it was supplanted with his awkward inability to respect others space. It was a trait he and his brother shared, though Gabriel was working on it. Trying as that might be.

Moving forward from the sink, he dropped his hands as he approached Taheera. Leaning forward, he eyed her hair line. He looked towards the edges of her eyes. The flesh around the edges of the lips and towards the base of the jaw. "Hmph."

It wasn't so much a revelation as it was an expression of lazy surprise. As if a doctor, having found something interesting. Interesting in having found nothing at all.

"It is in times of desperation or greatest need where we show our true capabilities..." He shifted, pulling a chair from the other side of the island. Sitting down, he scratched at the surface of the counter. "A will to survive will often overcome any instinct we might have for personal morals or ethics. Sometimes we can survive with them and sometimes, they exist to our detriment and must be cast aside." He looked over to her, her expression shifted towards the frail light poking through the window. "My brother cast me out of our body with the intent of killing me. Weakened from the transfer, though he remained in the original body, I could have killed him. And if it meant surviving...I would have."

He frowned as he recalled looking at himself. Dilapidated and drained, wasting away in that metal chair beneath Selvaris. "Besides the obvious, have you noticed anything different? Shared memories from your new body?" He scratched at the chest of his tunic. "This was but empty shell but I recall reading that it could be an unintended side effect of the process. Like a finger print, never fully burned away."

[member="Taheera Sollo"]

 

[Taheera Sollo]

[member="Gabriel Sionoma"]

Myrtle-ellipses widened significantly as he casually popped her personal bubble-space, his face studying hers' intently a few inches away. She searched his silent gaze as he searched her face. She couldn't help notice his sunkissed and weathered skin. Smells of open outdoors and a whiff of some sort of fermenting...alcohol?? pricked the tip of her green nose.

He certainly wasn't drunk.

Her tense expression softened a hair as he stepped back. She wrapped the damp towel across her damp shoulders and hugged herself tightly, again, searching to be grounded in the storm of her trepidation. "Your brother...," she murmured eyes snapping back to focus first on the salt and pepper beard, then on up to Gabe's eyes. There. She could stay there for awhile and be perfectly content. A temporary feeling of refuge and trust.

Of course his story only brought more questions but first an answer of her own.

"Nothing like that, at least not yet," purple lips pursed, though there were a flicker of amusement in her eyes. "The most trouble I've had is port authorities mixing me up with her crimes. I was worried I wouldn't even make it to this homestead to find you. I wouldn't be surprised if we heard a knock at your door before this conversation was finished. Or maybe when the storm's finished."

She paused not knowing if things she was about to confess were possible or if she was just losing her mind. Perhaps a little of both.

"There have been other things." Elbows perched on the counter as she leaned forward toward Gabe, propping her chin up beneath a set of green palms. Her personal space was the island that separated them and that was good enough. "I wasn't adept at manipulating the weather with the force before transferring but now I am...when I can control it," eyes darted to the rain outside. "I'm not saying the storm is my fault! It's just a coincidence."

One hand released her chin and tapped at the island top, palm pressing flat across the well-used surface.

"With your brother. You were trapped inside him? Could he hear you - did you still have a voice?"

She asked because she was worried about the voice she'd heard. It wasn't the mirialan woman; she feared it was much worse.

 

[Gabriel Sionoma]

With a slow slide of his hand across the stone countertop, he depressed a button that was otherwise hidden as a flush component of the surface. From a thin chasm, a holonet pad slowly ejected as Gabe leaned forward. Hoisting it out with feigned effort, he crossed his leg and propped the data pad on it.

Clicking it on, he flicked the screen with a slide of the finger. Then another and another. Given the transluscent nature of the pad, Taheera would likely see everything in mirror and reverse. Pursing his lips, he shook his head.

"If anything came down through port authorities, I would know about it..." Just then, the datapad rang. His brow furrowed at the coincidence, turning on the communications device. It was the commissioner and his caterpillar eyebrows and thick upper lip. Talking to the disembodied face, Gabe lifted a finger to Taheera to indicate that he would just be a moment. But he obviously wasn't concerned about anything of sensitive nature.

"Sheriff Sionoma, long time."
"No, not really. Maybe 24 hours?"
"You know I'm not good with specifics!"
"Yeah, I do. What can I help you with?"
"Well an urgent matter has come up that I needed to discuss with you..."

Gabe looked towards his guest and shook his head. It was likely not that urgent. The disembodied face enlarged as it approached the camera on the otherside.

"Have you considered the proposal from my nephew?"
"No, haven't had the time."
"Well you should, I think it's going to be hit."
"I'll look into today some time..."
"Good. Good."
"Anything else you need?"
"Uh, no...nope, that was it."
"Alright. Thank you, sir."

Gabe cut off the datapad and sighed. "Since the rain was forecasted to push through a few days ago, though obviously not of this severity, the whole community has gotten together to plan a parade. As Sheriff, apparently an unknown responsibility is approving float designs."

He set the datapad down, raking his forehead with chewed finger nails. "Well, I started out as the main controller of our body. He was a parasitic twin, aborted at birth. But not soon enough, he clung to life in spiritual and mental tether. I was slowly corrupted until my voice became his. And over time, my voice drifted in the ether. Until I met someone...a Mirialan. It..." He gestured, as if an air was pulled from him. "Something awoke within Reverance and my muted voice became too loud for him to tolerate."

He paused. "So you have gained abilities that you did not have in your other form? Abilities that your current body seemed adept at, prior to the transfer? That's interesting." He wasn't sure he had ever read or heard of that. Training so often taught that talent could only get someone so far, but perhaps it was the inherent root of all abilities.

[member="Taheera Sollo"]

 

[Taheera Sollo]

[member="Gabriel Sionoma"]

And just like that, the mood and conversation turned on a credchit. Chestnut brows lofted. A genuine smile curved on her lips between Gabe's exchange with the person on the other end of that data pad.

Wait. He was the sheriff?!

'Sheriff?' she mouthed silently to him as he finished his call. Guess she didn't have to worry about being thrown in a cell for mistaken identity anytime soon. She felt that tension in her shoulders that had been there since landing unwind just a bit. A snort left the tip of her green nose as he spoke of her newfound 'abilities.'

"Interesting or a pain in the butt." Cursed. Definitely cursed. She grimaced, green fingers coming to pinch the bridge of her nose. "I'd feel better if I had more control over it. Sometimes I feel like it's tied to my emotions," hand held up, "which, I know-I know, is probably more darkside?"

Hands fell away from her face but not before flicking some of her damp hair away from her eyes.

Odd that a Mirialan played a huge part in his story and here she was. But that was neither here nor there.

"You were corrupted by your brother. So, you mean by the darkside - over time? Are you ever worried it'll ever happen again? Because I'm worried that this," hands smacked lightly against her own sides, "will happen again and next time, I have no idea what it'll lead to."

What would she do? Wake up and be a sith lord?! Suddenly be able to shoot lightning out of her fingertips.

"Or, we can just not talk about this anymore and look at those float designs," an impish smile whisked across her mouth.

 

[Gabriel Sionoma]

He held up his hand. "The meager amount of time I have to spend on judging floats is quite enough, thanks." He returned a smile before scratching his forehead, eyes shifting towards the window. Still raining.

"This body was constructed from the genetics of the original body. Down to the scars, Kiffar tattoos, the Arkanian genetics and all of my fathers tampering. Everything. Yet..." He paused. "Reverance was a powerful Sith, capable of monstrous feats. However, anything pertaining to the darkside, I am entirely incapable of reproducing. The impact of the transfer destroyed any potential I could have for use of the darkside. The conflict you feel, the concern over falling to the darkside, is simply something that I can no longer comprehend. But..."

He pressed his fingers against his eyes, not really sure if he was helping. "As far as I can tell, the transfer of an essence was never intended to be an exact science. Just as I have had odd side effects, so have you. But it's nothing you can't control. Look at me..." He lifted his hands, praising his own craftsmanship. "When I first arrived here, I was dead set on proving that I wasn't my brother. On numerous occasions, it almost got me killed. It thanks to healers, like yourself, that I can even walk. So if I can fight my urge to run head strong into every Sith faction that we go up against, I'm sure you can learn to control your abilities."

He stopped, mid pep talk, to lay down some hard truth. "I'm not a Jedi. I don't condone their distrust for emotions. Emotions are important, they are inherently tied to the bodies need for survival. They are not something to be thrown away but instead, understood. Valued. And refined. There is a large difference between quieting the mind and silencing it altogether."

He took a long breath, realizing that he just went on for far longer then he was normally apt to do - he wasn't even sure where all of that came from. For some reason, the idea of knowing someone that shared a similar and traumatic experience made him far more open to conversation on the matter.

Curling is fingers into a fist, with the thumb extended, he threw his arm over his shoulder towards the fridge. "Do you like sandwiches?"

[member="Taheera Sollo"]

 

[Taheera Sollo]

[member="Gabriel Sionoma"]

Her posture changed as he shared those intimate details. She found her body language leaning in - desiring to hear more because in all of it, she heard hope. Things were never simple. It wasn't just jedi versus sith. It was complicated and messy.

And she found herself envious of Gabe. She wished she didn't even have the temptation or the option of the darkside but she felt as if she'd always be tied to that struggle. Perhaps it was buried within the genetic make-up of her clone original and whatever her 'creators' did to alter that original.

"Well," she paused, "I'm not sure what it means to use the lightside and not be considered a jedi. But I like the sound of learning how to work with emotions because ignoring them hasn't worked well for me at all. And I like the idea of sandwiches even better."

A tired but genuine smile wound its way around her purple lips.

"Should I be calling you Chef Gabe now too?"

 

[Gabriel Sionoma]

"Not sure I would go that far..." He stated with a smile, holding his hand up to halt any of that nonsense. "I'm hardly a chef. More like...an enthusiast." He scooted away from the island and pushed the stool back in before heading over to the steel refrigerator. Pressing his palm against the plate, he looked over to Taheera with a somewhat shameful look. "The kids keep opening the door. I had to install some security measures." That and he was getting tired of Dick rummaging through the vegetables, throwing away things that should be composted.

"When I first arrived here, I used my free time with idle activity...to keep my mind off things." He pulled out a hunk of smoked swine, some lettuce and tomatoes, a couple of condiments, and some sourdough bread. Going through the cupboard for two plates, he laid them on the stone countertop before pulling out a chopping block of treated and layered woods. It may or may not have been made from ankarres wood. Of course, he obviously wouldn't tell her that the thing he needed to be distracted from was the twisted relationship between he and the Mirialan who originally saved him. "Carving wood, tending to the farm, making jewelry, that sort of thing."

He pulled the tomato across and slid out the knife, going to work on making small slices. Afterwards, he would proceed to thinly slice the meat. "It wasn't my intent to really become adept at these activities. It was more to quiet my mind, to provide white noise so that I could internally heal from any tragedy I may have faced. Tragedy and hardship, in their own way, are wounds to which we must recover. Lest we falter to the darkside or, in my case, depression." He turned the knife over and laid it on the board. Walking over to Taheera, he leaned over and opened the island cupboard that was just at her legs. "Sorry, forgot about this..." He yanked free two bottles, one of oil and one of vinegar, before moving back to his spot.

"So, I guess my question is...do you have something like that in your life?" It was fairly obvious that meditation and centering oneself was at the core of this practice. But for many, idle activity was far more practical for the wandering mind.

[member="Taheera Sollo"]