Faction The Pilgrims 4: Not This Crude Matter (open to Jedi/Lightsiders)

[Audren Sykes]

The prior pilgrimage had been a successful venture, and Audren was pleased to have been informed of this one as well. It was being held on Corellia; hosted by the Green Jedi as a matter of fact, Corellia's somewhat unique Jedi order. The justification was simple: appointments were scheduled with several on-world companies that Ceredir would look to partner with, but enough time was set aside for this session. Upon arrival he'd learned what the subject matter was - who it was - and knew that he wouldn't have missed this for the life of him.

The Saber was the name of the enclave, and many had gathered for this teaching. He could sense that not all were Jedi, yet they felt to be in balance instead of the chaostic tipping of the darkness. Many had been present at the previous lesson on Manaan. This particular session was being led by a Trandoshan Jedi that the Sephi had never heard of before; clearly others had however so the benefit of the doubt was given. He wondered how Quill had chosen the replacement, but that there was a replacement was no surprise given the rumors he'd heard floating around. The subject of the teaching was the focal point of the hangar: it was ten meters tall and supported by energy and physical restraints. He'd thought it almost a monolith when first arriving but it clearly carried an abnormal presence in the Force. It was distinctly Light-sided but very clearly alien. As if the size didn't give that away.

When Khefiir approached the structure, letters began glowing. It was a language the elfin Jedi didn't remember having ever seen before; not surprising, since he was no historian or linguist. Yet when the Knight touched the surface it opened, revealing that this was no monolith but closer to a cocoon. Containing another cocoon. Unlike the solid exterior of the outer casing, this one appeared to be fibrous. When the Trandoshan pulled back the pale blue layers, yet another layer of protection was apparent. This one was more felt than seen, as it was nearly-transparent. Within was an insectoid being. All of this was displayed on a large screen so that all who were gathered could see it. An explanation followed: this was a Mist-Weaver, more ancient than ancient. Named K'narik, she wanted to pass on her knowledge - at least in part - before she died.

Fascinating.

Audren watched in silence as many of those gathered approached or introduced themselves. Some did so audibly, others by swelling their presence in or pressing sensations through the Force. He didn't eavesdrop, nor did he follow the pattern. If this being was as old as stated, and she was clearly powerful, then chances were good that she could see right through him, enhanced presence or no. She would decide for herself whether to teach them...him. Clearly she did, since an appendage was reached out and joined claws with Khefiir, causing the Trandoshan's eyes to shift from yellow to silver. Using the rough yet sibilant speech of the Knight, K'narik gave some background about herself and the Mist-Weavers. She clearly saw time differently, speaking of the aging of stars where most could only see the aging of other beings like them.

What most closely caught his attention, however, was the comment about weaving the Mist - the Force - into tangible form. Clearly not content to merely comment on it, she and Khefiir performed the feat. A luminous line was drawn in midair that solidified into a physical yet still-glowing strand. Again and again this occurred, each line reminiscent of the lettering on the outer cocoon, yet all formed together into a simple painting of the very enclave they were in, heavily shaded in green. Not only an image though, it carried a sensation through the Force very much like the enclave and what he'd felt of the planet. Another example was given where strands of the Force wove themselves into a barrier that looked very much like the inner cocoons: the Jedi's eyes shifted back and forth between them, seeing at once that they were very much the same.

The Mist-Weaver's follow-up words implied that the cocoon was made up of time, or had some effect thereof. Most difficult to do, if at all.

The basis of this was somewhat familiar to the Sephi. He didn't perceive the Force as a mist but rather as connections, and when he wanted to use it he manipulated the strands. The most similar that he'd done was telekinesis - strands twisted into cables that manipulated the world around - or a Force shield, where strands were woven together to form a shape. Yet what he created had never physically manifested. When he looked through the Force, he could clearly sense the strands that made up the cocoons and the painting. The cocoons were a masterwork - K'narik had called herself a Master - made up of tightly-woven strands, each making the whole creation stronger. But how to manifest it?

Khefiir
@everyone else

 

[Kisaku Oroken]

The Saber, Corellia
Lucien Dooku | Khefiir | Tiland Kortun | Rose Ann Lovely | Kaia Starchaser | Kuxirra Tano-Bonteri | Caltin Vanagor | Auteme | Aaran Tafo

Kisaku watched Khefiir closely, startled at how the Mist-Weaver spoke through him. As that initial shock wore off and they began to weave, Kisaku gasped softly. He could see both stages of what they did - the transition between intangible and tangible almost indistinguishable to him. He had always saw the Force as a moving tapestry of threads that bound the universe together.​

​

What he had never seen before was what the weaver did with them. He saw by their manipulation the threads twine and twist together. Individual threads became cords, cords became interwoven arrays like the wicker in a basket. The Force given a new structure, a new form. He was just about to blurt out his amazement when he realized that Auteme was almost mirroring his sentiment.​

Something she said however -- they only needed to see it that way? Did everyone not already see it in such terms?​

​

He felt as though he could already try it after seeing it done. Perhaps not the seemingly incredibly dense weavings that formed barriers; the speed at which the mist-weaver had twined and woven the threads together was seemed hopelessly deft to produce something so layered and so quickly.​

​

Kisaku's brows furrowed. Hesitantly, he took a stronger grasp of the Force himself, gathering threads from the tapestry himself. He was watchful, waiting for the ichor of the dark to start to creep down the threads like a toxic sludge to connect with his grasp. When it didn't come he slowly began to twist the threads around one another. First two, and then three into a slender braid. Visibly between his fingers he began to extrude a thin wisp like strand. It held no true color, but rather shifted slowly between radiant and bright fluorescent colors -- greens, blues, reds and everything in between. He didn't know what to even attempt to make with it, and as thin as the strand was it was still intangible. Like smoke if one were to waft a strong current of air towards it, it would split apart with the mere gust of it. As the air stilled it would heal once more. It may not have been impressive, but it was there.​

​

"Auteme..." Kisaku said in a soft voice, trying to get her attention.​

 

[Tessa Sedaire]

How she wound up here, Tessa was never quite sure. Looking for her father, she had come to Corellia. Some had directed her here to this Enclave. But there had been no one who had seen him in some months. Her host had mentioned there was a lesson on-going here, and while he sought out any information on her father, she might enjoy sitting in to learn and get to know others. There were bits of half-hearted pitch about the Path of the Jedi, but she had ignored it mostly.

To her, she stuck out like a sore thumb. Clad in greasy flightsuit with a holdout blaster and a leg-wrap of starship tools and a slicers kit on her hip, she didn't even have a lightsaber like most here. But as she listened, she became more and more intrigued. Her own education was, admittedly, minimal... But the ways of the Force were the ways of her real father, and she had worked hard to develop the gifts left to her from his lineage.

When the Trando made the visible lines in the air, her breath caught, and her eyes narrowed, intensely focused on their teachers words.

Now here is something new... I thought it was all laser swords and meditation... Who knew?

Khefiir

 

[Khefiir]

It took perhaps an hour for the Mist-Weaver - using Khefiir's voice - to walk the room through the basics of spinning the ambient Force into physical strands. Tucked away in his own mind as an observer, Khefiir felt confident that he could do it alone.

By this point K'narik was growing ever more tired. She retreated further into her layers of cocoon. Some of those layers burst and returned to the cosmic Force in a blaze of light; she drew on that energy to sustain herself now. Khefiir's eyes faded from glowing silver to his natural yellow. He staggered and caught himself against the flank of the huge split-open sphere.

"Our friend needss to resst," he said to the room at large. "Sso do I. Could I assk ssome of you to take turnss ssitting with her, watching over her, communing with her? Sshe could usse the company and I would hate for her to passs alone, whenever that time comess."

OOC/ One way you could approach this would be to do a self-contained post of what your turn watching over the dying Mist-Weaver is like. Feel free to assume your turn would be like standing watch for a few hours at some point over the next few IC days/nights.

Cotan Sar'andor
Lief
Kaia Starchaser
Kaska Arden
Aaran Tafo
Dagon Kaze
Viera
Lucien Dooku
Okkeus Dainlei
Kisaku Oroken
Auraya Irath-Ur
Vexander Graves
Rose Ann Lovely
Auteme
Caltin Vanagor
Kuxirra Tano-Bonteri
Tiland Kortun
Tiadu
Tessa Sedaire

 

[Caltin Vanagor]

IT'S ALWAYS DARKEST BEFORE THE DAWN...​

Location: Corellia
Equipment: Conservator and Vanguard 2.0 (Lightsabers)
Comm-link, Rebreather, Custom Robes
Starship: Starlight Sentinel, (Dilorian in cargo bay)
Companion: Astromech R01R - "Roller", Pilot droid Mu51c - "Music"
Tag: @
Cotan Sar'andor
Lief
Kaia Starchaser
Kaska Arden
Aaran Tafo
Dagon Kaze
Viera
Lucien Dooku
Okkeus Dainlei
Kisaku Oroken
Auraya Irath-Ur
Vexander Graves
Rose Ann Lovely
Auteme
Khefiir
Kuxirra Tano-Bonteri
Tiland Kortun
Tiadu
Tessa Sedaire

I will start.

While he did not pick up on the weaving as easily as others did, like @Autemme, the basics were there and the massive Jedi Master was glad to know it, if only for the basis of knowing history. This was something he was eager to learn more about, and while he would not take up more time than he was entitled to, he could let the rest of them get some level of respite.

You guys get some rest. I'm good.

... YET THE DAWN ALWAYS COMES.

 

[Rose Ann Lovely]

rose instantly took post. "I would be honored to accompany them in there final fleeting moments after all i would want the same." she had no hesitation and seemed happy to stay with her even offering to take up extra time for anyone who did not want to or couldn't. " and if you take you give. you gave me ...us so much k'narik. it would be nothing to stay here for you."

 

[Kaia Starchaser]

The Force had more paths than the ones of the Jedi. That was a lesson she was learning, from her father’s work in the New Jedi Order, from the Pilgrim trips, and her wanderings around the galaxy. Master Skywalker had been quoted that the Force was a river, and the cupof the Jedi was not the only way to drink, or something to that extent. She was hoping to learn from the Mist-Weaver, something useful, or something that she could bring to others.

Painting with the Mist, with the Force? She was very intrigued. The silks could be used for many things, the Mirialan suspected. Protection, and defense, heat, and a way to wrap something or someone in any kind of protection, or healing skill.

When it was her turn, the Jedi respectfully approached the Mist-Weaver. Doing what she had always done, she watched the Weaver spinning the Force, the Mist. The colors, blues and violets and greens. The dark haired young woman was taking her time to approach the Mist in her own way, reaching out to the Force, collecting it slowly. She was spinning it, weaving it…

The Force was being used for protection and she was pulling in the absorption skills that she knew her family was strong with. The weave she was making, it had the indigo and violet of her own aura, but a stitching of gold and white. Taking her time, she continued to watch the Weaver. “Thank you for your gifts…” She smiled as she kept working with the power.

 

[Kuxirra Tano-Bonteri]

When her turn came, Kuxirra limped forward, placing a hand on the cocoon. She closed her eyes, communing with K'narik. This ancient being was older than she could imagine, and she was grateful for the opportunity to learn. Slowly, she spun first one strand of Mist-silk, then another. The Togruta found this calming, and enjoyed it.

After her daughter, Zenda took a turn. She was glad she had chosen to come with her daughter on this, even though at first it was because she didn't want her hurt more than she already was. The Knight found the spinning calming as well. It helped ease her nerves concerning her daughter's well-being, and the ancient Mist-Weaver was able to help with the latter as well.

Leehak was the last of the family to take a turn communing with the ancient being. He was soft-spoken, but he was skilled at what he could do. Like his wife and daughter, he found the new ability calming.

 

[Lief]

That feeling of being out of place faded quickly.​

​

Swept up within the splendor of it all, Asha nodded in agreement at Cotan's comforting words and observed as he spoke with the others with familiarity and fondness. Almost like a family she'd never seen before, though given how little of Cotan's life outside of the Je'daii she knew it was unsurprising. Perhaps she should endeavor to find out more, it was certainly endearing to see him in such a light. Amidst so many.​

​

"It's beautiful," she whispered in response to his told-you-so, her hand giving his a light squeeze of excitement, "I have only ever visualized the strands," she continued, with a thoughtful, ponderous expression, "I did not think such was possible, in truth... To create with it, not simply walk along and observe. Thank you, for inviting me along."​

​

Her voice raised just enough afterward that the Trandoshan, and indeed the one within the cocoon, could hear her. "And thank you for allowing me to bear witness to such. It is truly an honour."​

​

Time dwindled away from there as many among them tried to replicate the strange weaving and painting techniques shown. For one who was already in touch with the notion of the strands of the Force grasping at it came naturally to her, but putting them into use took time and practice. She remained by Cotan's side throughout, curious as to what he'd do, excited to learn alongside him. Asha dipped her toes into both sides of it, the painting and the weaving, though she discovered not too long into it that she was far more suited to the latter.​

​

So much so it became her focus.​

​

The painting, though... The painting was gorgeous. She would definitely try to build upon her vague knowledge of it after the fact.​

​

When the request that they each take turns watching over K'narik was made, Asha knew immediately that she would take her place alongside her when the time came. The sacred knowledge bestowed could justify such a thousand times over, but it was more than that... Asha would have done so even if it had afforded her nothing in return. One who had lived for so long, had seen ages of the Galaxy pass by, should be revered. They should not be left to die alone.​

​

In truth, no one should.​

​

So she sat and she meditated and she communicated through the Force with fearless abandon, truly opening herself up to the ancient being.​

​

Cotan, too, had taken the watch alongside her. They had combined their times, and were in no rush to see it end. Happy in one another's company, even during the times of verbal silence, but also sharing in conversation as a trio instead. They practiced, too, with the woman's guidance, and brought life back to the ancient art even as hers began to wane.​

​

A celebration of all she had been.​

​

Cotan Sar'andor Khefiir ​

 

[Auraya Irath-Ur]

She thought she'd be more inclined toward the weaving. To create from seemingly nothing was a fascinating concept, and she could already visualize several things that could prove handy if made, to help others, besides the obvious self-healing armour and the like. She spent most of that first day trying to grasp the concept, to will something into existence, before buckling.​

​

Not one to fully give up, she took some time out to try and calm her mind and sat in with a group who were practicing the painting technique instead. It surprised Raya to no end to discover that it was something she could grasp far more readily.​

​

It was, in truth, cathartic.​

​

There were so many unresolved feelings surrounding Jakku which floated into her mind as she brought to life the bright paintings, and she allowed them each to flow into the forms she conjured up. None of it was somber or dark, even if that which she dredged up had been, instead the sparks of light radiated out like a beacon of hope, easing away some of that darkness.​

​

Such a relief was it, in fact, to have another avenue through which to heal, that when it came time for Raya to take her place alongside K'narik, to keep her company, she broke down entirely. For a few minutes, out of however long it was she had to truly exist alongside the cocooned woman, Raya let go of all she'd been fighting to uphold, the mental barriers and walls to keep the flood from coming, and sobbed as though she had in truth been alone.​

​

And K'narik seemed receptive and understanding, even as the girl apologized for such, explained that it was due to the catharsis she'd found within the act of painting. She thanked the ancient being for opening her up to such, for sharing so sacred an art, and spent the remainder of her time in quiet conversation and contemplation.​

​

She barely even noticed when the next came along to take her place, and was rather reluctant to leave the woman; though, of course, she ultimately did...​

​

Khefiir @everyone else​

 

[Cotan Sar'andor]

After a certain point in his watch over K'narik with Asha, the pair had elected to just sit together, backs against the great cocoon as they chatted and practiced. Throughout much of it, K'narik's telepathic words to them seemed to be tinged with just a hint of amusement, likely caused by the somewhat-beyond-friendly poking and prodding the pair always delivered to each other. At least now that they were more-or-less alone with the ancient being, Asha had managed to relax a bit.

Throughout the time, Cotan had been practicing with what K'narik, through Khefiir, had demonstrated to them. It hadn't come to him quite as easily as it may have to Asha, or some of the others; even with how far he'd come over the years, Cotan's skills ultimately still leaned towards more mundane developments, such as combat, or being able to read people. Still, something that would've taken him weeks as a Padawan was only taking some hours now.

So it was that he was there, face nearly blank as all his energy was spent in concentration, plucking threads of Force-energy out of the air and slowly weaving them together in some sort of pattern. Something that would be hard for either of the others not to notice; he could feel K'narik's attention on his work, even as she grew ever more tired and faint, and with one arm interlinked with Asha's, there was no way whatsoever that she hadn't picked up on it. Especially when she began to speak.

"What is it you're working on, dear?" she asked him, pulling aside some of his focus for a moment. He glanced down at the item he was working on; close to being finished, if he could only manage to make everything stay together and follow the pattern he'd so stubbornly set out to make happen, even without any forms or the like to make it easier.

"...Something," he replied in a noncommittal tone, plucking another strand from the air. Already, he could feel the mirth mounting within K'narik's presence in both of their minds. "Oh, something is it?" Asha asked him, chuckling slightly, resting her head on his shoulder. He glanced down at her, a small smile coming to his face, despite himself, despite the need to focus.

She made it awfully difficult, sometimes.

"Yes. Definitely something."

"Some sort of secret, is it?"
​

"Do I ever keep secrets from you?"

"I don't know...do you?"
​

Cotan glanced down at her expression, watching as it melted from something faking an attempt at being serious into an easy grin. But, of course, he couldn't let her win that easily.​

"Do you keep secrets from me?"

"I don't have secrets to keep. So, what is it, then?"
​

Blast. "It's a hat."

He could already hear the psychic laughter in his head. At least they were entertaining the being, not just honouring her, in her last days.​

"A hat? What sort of hat?"
​

"An adventure-y sort of hat. But made out of the Force."

"Does that mean we get to go adventuring? Together?"
​

"I have never denied you in that, I'll have you know...and yes. Soon, hopefully. Just have to make sure everything looks the part..."

He pursed his lips, moving a few final threads into place, slightly adjusting others.
​

"Now, are we thinking more smuggler, or pirate?"

"Whichever looks the coolest, naturally. And I never said you denied, just...I think it would be fun for us to go off exploring together."

"Like we used to."
​

Dammit, Cotan.

Pushing the small pang of pain and guilt he felt at her final words out of his mind, he set the final threads in place, looking over his creation. Thankfully, the Force responded better to the power of the mind, and intent, than it did to hands and physical shaping, so his lack of a hat block didn't end up to be a hindrance whatsoever, not like he'd originally thought it might.

"Well, then, pirate it is!" And he reached up, pulling the three-pointed hat down on top of her head, and just over her eyes. Once she pushed it back up, he was grinning widely; while he was always enamoured of the redhead sitting beside him, he was quite taken with the new look. "And I swear, you'll be the best pirate anyone has ever heard of!"

Lief Khefiir @therestofyou​

 

[Tessa Sedaire]

With time spent, Tessa watched the weaving, and used her own limited abilities to echo and imitate the Mist-Weaver. Liquid seconds seem to stretch and pass as the cocoon reformed. The process require a sort of calm she wasn't used to. Corellians had rocket-fuel for blood, and while only half of that people, her mother used to say her father's legacy made up for genetic lack.

Already, Tessa felt a release and calm that prior was not there. She had come seeking a figure she was unsure she wanted to meet. But something had guided her here, and the more time she spent around Jedi, the more she began to adopt their habit of believing in the will of the Force. Surely that played a part in this.

 

[Tiland Kortun]

The process fascinated him. It was not... creating something new, at least not from what he could create. It was... bringing into physicality something
that was already there. A Force signature manifested. It was difficult to say, for it was an abstract skill that existed far outside his own frame of reference. Which was saying something, as he'd studied under the Aang-Tii.

He closed his eyes and leaned back into a seiza position and rested the wooden walking staff across his knees. One hand danced through the air, delicately, and with subtle motions. To those who knew the art, they would be recognizable as a teras kasi training motions. The other hand joined it, working not in sync, but with a different pattern, in great circles and ripples not unlike water.

Slowly, fiber by fiber, an image would appear. A lone figure surrounded by great trees. The colors were bright, but muted somewhat, and a darkness lurked around the edges. Moving inward, the darkness faded into a brighter light. All around the figure on the ground was great streams and rivers flowing both from within and to the figure at the center.

At last, he opened his eyes and sank onto the ground, sweat across his forehead and face. When he heard the request for someone to stay with their teacher, he nodded, and smiled. "I will go last, for I can sit and wait for as long as necessary. We can sit and be old folks together. Speak of friends gone so long even their tombstones are dust."

 

[Lucien Dooku]

THE SABER | CORONET CITY

---

---

The processes behind the strands being formed seemed simple enough, going after the display being put on by Auteme . Lucien himself thought he understood the basis behind it after the demonstrations and seeing the others do it as well. He attempted to briefly himself, the outcome being nothing to compare to the brilliance created by the woman at his side. He shrugged the failure away, returning his hands back to the comfort of his jacket pockets.

Auteme on the other hand was more than ectastic about what she created, and rightfully so in his opinion. She wasn't much of a fighter, but her presence on the frontlines was something nobody could take away from her. On more than a few occasions it was her light that saved him and their comrades, and if the Mistweaver's teachings were a boon to her, than spending the day failing was fine to him.

Luc leaned his forearm against her shoulder, leaning in close to her face with a playful smirk sitting on his. A few seconds of silence accompanied the close-up stare.

"Nope, not makin' any sense at all-" He pulled away with that goofy laugh of his enveloping their space. "Nah, i'm just kidding. I think I get it, but uhh.. yeah. Don't think is for me but--" Luc unclipped his lightsaber, spinning the black hilt around the back of his hand, the weapon settling firmly into his palm.

"I'll leave the intricacies of mystical space magic to you." The lightsaber returned to his belt with a wink being thrown her way direction. He scanned the room out curiosity of the others progress, only to stop upon the handful of familiar faces in the crowd. He really didn't get out much, given the number of Jedi who he lacked any recognition of at all. Regardless, it still felt pretty good to get out of the bubble.

Auteme | Cotan Sar'andor | Lief

​

 

[Auteme]

Lucien Dooku Kisaku Oroken | Cotan Sar'andor Lief
​

"Kisaku, that's amazing!" Auteme gushed at the colorful strands he'd woven. She calmed her breathing, then focused on her eyes, enhancing her sight with the Force. Though she wasn't as proficient as the Miralukan, she saw what he saw, if only a sliver of it.

With her own hands she began to weave. A small thing; something she'd made before, but this time with a technique far different. The threads combined and intertwined at her behest. The image, bright yet small, became clearer with each passing moment. The lotus that formed between her palms was nearly as real as any other. The excitement and joy she felt only grew.

"Oh, I'll get you to try it sometime," she said, grinning to Lucien.

---

Late that evening, Auteme walked with Lucien back to where the Mist-Weaver's cocoon was suspended. Her hand found its place in his. "There's just more to it," she said, trying again to convince him. "Yes, the Force can give you power, but- the Light is all about being healthy, self-reflective. You don't have to think about it exactly the way I do, but as long as you think about it, it'll give you more inner strength, and it'll show you how to improve, you know? For me, with this, I've just -- I feel kind of complete. Personally."

She shrugged. This was basically the only thing they'd argued about ('big' thing), and she'd yet to make much progress with him. Maybe he'd listen to K'narik-

"Cotan?" Turned out she wasn't the first person to bring their partner out on their shift. Cotan's lady-friend was also far more fashionable than Lucien, as much as she loved him. She stayed silent, giving Cotan space to introduce them.

 

[Cotan Sar'andor]

Cotan snored, his head on Asha's shoulder, entirely oblivious to Auteme and Lucien.

Lief Auteme Lucien Dooku

 

[Lief]

As time drifted on, soon only Asha remained awake with the weaver. Atop her head the hat remained, slightly off kilter but there, as she sat with her back to the cocoon and mentally spoke with the one inside it. Cotan had lasted longer than she expected, but ultimately he had in fact drifted off. One of her hands lifted, gently caressing through his hair as his head settled against her shoulder.​

​

Everything else was quiet. Peaceful. She could practically hear his heart beating beside her. As she sat there she pondered on a strange occurrence which happened when they'd been discussing the hat in question. She peeked her eyes down at him, barely moving her head to do so, and hummed softly under her breath. ​

​

Something she'd said had gotten to him. It wasn't just intuitive, either... It wasn't one of those moments of empathy, or Lorrdian body language tricks either. No, she'd felt it. Genuinely felt it.​

​

Was that how it had been for Jyn?​

​

She was roused from her thoughts by the arrival of another pairing, and lifted her eyes up from Cotan to settle upon the two of them. Her hand remained where it was, still seeking and providing comfort.​

​

"Cotan," she whispered, "Someone's trying to talk to you..."​

​

Her eyes flicked left then right, looking between the both of them, before she very gently shook the man awake.​

​

"Some...bodies..."​

​

After all, they both seemed to be looking at them expectingly.​

​

Cotan Sar'andor Auteme Lucien Dooku ​

 

[Khefiir]

After three days of standing vigil, the Jedi witnessed K'narik, perhaps the last Mist-Weaver and member of her species, vanish into the Force. Her cocoon disappeared as well - even the blasted, irradiated outermost shell that had protected her for so many eons.

Rose Ann Lovely Lief Cotan Sar'andor Auteme Kuxirra Tano-Bonteri Tiland Kortun Kaia Starchaser Lucien Dooku Caltin Vanagor Kisaku Oroken Auraya Irath-Ur Tessa Sedaire Vexander Graves Audren Sykes Viera Aaran Tafo

OOC/ Feel free to keep writing as you see fit. Thanks for joining in, folks: this was a good one.​

 

[Kuxirra Tano-Bonteri]

Kuxirra hugged her parents as they watched K'narik become one with the Force. She was happy to know that she was reunited with her fellow Mist-Weavers, but sad to see her go. Her tears were bittersweet, and she cried freely.

 

[Cotan Sar'andor]

Cotan was sleeping, and dreaming, peacefully, for perhaps the first time in a long while. As busy as he often found himself, constantly torn between duties to the Judges, the New Jedi Order, just generally running his station, and everything else that could ever demand his attention, it was rare that he ever found himself getting a proper night of rest. As such, he'd long since taken to getting naps in almost wherever he could, to make up for his nightly deficit.

Pulling a double shift of watching over the dying Mist-Weaver, combining his and Asha's into one so that they could spend some more time together as well? His attempt to remain awake was doomed from the start. Neither member of his current company seemed inclined to inject much energy into the proceedings, to force him to stay in a state of wakefulness. And so, no doubt helped along by the gentle urgings of the miss Lief herself, he slipped into slumber.

Unfortunately, it looked like his attempt to sleep was doomed as well.

"Stop, stop," he mumbled, not entirely awake yet. "I am in a relationship, thank you very much, and I do not appreciate...this...handsy-ness..." One of his hands twitched, no doubt in a fruitless attempt by its wielder to knock aside the hand that was playing with his hair, before Asha started shaking him. This seemed to have a better effect than her initial whisper, as his eyes began to open.

It was dark outside the hangar. When last he'd been awake, he and Asha had been watching the sunset. Moreover, none of Corellia's moons could be seen. That meant that a fair amount of time must have passed after Cotan last closed his eyes. "Huh? Is our turn ove—" In the process of turning to Asha, his eyes also fell over Auteme and Lucien Dooku . He blinked in mild surprise, trying to remember the name of the latter.

One of Tavlar's people, right? I know I've seen something about him before. Probably heard Ryv talk about him too. What's his name? Lucifer? Lucius?

"Auteme," he said after a yawn, nodding at the young woman. "And Lucien," as the name finally hit him. Normally, he might have sat up, straightened himself, made more of an attempt to be presentable and speak to them in a normal manner—but Asha's shoulder, and her hand messing with his hair, were just too comfortable to deny. He crossed his arms, closing his eyes with another small yawn. "Nice to have a night away from the front, isn't it? How can I help you?"