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Lost Boy [Open]

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  • Lost Boy [Open]

    Snow. He had never seen so much of it. The slush easily bypassed the layers of his ragged fur cloak and the threadbare tunic beneath it, causing gooseflesh to gradually arise on his exceptionally tan arms. His feet, shod in rough leather boots trimmed in the woolly hide of some animal, shuffled him hastily toward the entryway of the mountain side establishment. Extending bare hands, the double doors were pried open and Gavin stepped within, warmth assailing his brumal form in the most uncomfortable of ways. A hearth blazed within and many individuals loitered around the tavern, taking refuge on this particularly wintry evening.

    They turned eyes upon him; no doubt inspecting the uncivilized garb hanging from his thin, young frame. His savage appearance was always what drew attention, wherever he went. Then, if his audience dared to look deeper, they would behold the remarkable maturity within his eyes; one that suggested a man of twenty rather than a child of ten.

    The doors slammed behind him and he made short work of removing his cloak, sewn from the pelts of wild beasts. The article of clothing was politely hung near the hearth on a peg and then he sat himself before the fire, extending his dirty hands toward it. Would that man know he had come? He was patient. He would wait, observe his surroundings, and let fate dictate who made the first move.

  • #2
    One of the sets of the eyes, that found their way toward the tavern's newest occupant, were a vivid shade of violet. She had never seen a boy quite like him, seeming savage in appearance but possessing an air of maturity about him. She had not seen him in class before; perhaps, she thought, he belonged to one of the youngling clans she had yet to interact with. Still, he was here by himself which seemed strange. Unable to sleep, Ce'erina had been accompanied to the tavern by one of the Knight's in charge of overseeing the younglings to get a cup of chamomile tea to ease her insomnia. The thought of delving back into that realm of nightmares made her shiver and she wrapped her hands more firmly around the tea cup Tom brought for her.

    A little voice inside her head, the brave conscience that had grown louder since she'd come here, quietly urged her to go up and speak to the boy. She was so very shy and it was her natural reaction to shun such social requests; even coming from some small part of herself that wanted to make friends with him. What would Faolan do? Tom stopped in front of her again and she slowly looked up at him in askance. He set another cup of tea in front of her and then nodded his head toward the boy sitting before the fire. She smiled, in an understanding way, and then gathered her cup and the new one. Carefully, she made her way over to him.

    She stepped up to his side, silent and still as she desperately thought of what to say. "Uh... um.. I... t-this is for you..."


    • #3
      He turned his head up towards the young girl, his hand following the gesture to brush damp hair away from his eyes and off of his brow. The stuttering manner in which she spoke conveyed a lack of confidence that he didn't really understand. He wondered briefly how his mother would describe her behavior, surely different from that of the children of the clan. "Why do you talk like that?" It was his first thought, not the tea, not who she was. "You have to be brave." There was no room for any less in his world.

      His blue eyes moved then to the mug she held. His words were perhaps rude, but direct, and she approached him with kindness. "Thank you.." He muttered. At a loss for how to approach the situation in that moment. He took the mug from her, lowering it into his lap and allowing it to warm his hands. It permeated deeply, biting right throught he numbness that was a result of the blood pooling back through to his core to keep the major portions of his body warm.

      "You can sit." He invited her, staring ahead into the flames, waiting to see if she would recoil from him from his brief moment in lacking social skills. The truth, it would likely not be the last time he said something rude without thinking it as such.


      • #4
        While it probably did not seem like it to the boy, Ce'erina was being considerably braver than she had been in the past. When she was on Voss, she was never one to initiate a conversation, especially with strangers. Perhaps it had a lot to do with her culture; words were sacred and not to be wasted, the final say belonging to a triumvirate of mystics and their interpreters. Her father was a rigid man, not prone to acts of affection or whimsy. She understood, though. He was a busy man and his work was very important. It was why she had not resisted the mystics' dreams when they foresaw her here.

        "I-it's just how I talk." She answered finally, one eye closing in a wince as the tea cup began burning her fingers. With thanks, he accepted it out of her hands and not a moment too soon. Her fingers were red from the heat and she had grown very close to dropping it. His invitation to sit, which sounded more like an order to do so, came as a surprise. But, she did not want to turn down what she considered progress in this social experiment. She nodded and then sank into the chair beside him, her feet dangling and kicking back and forth with nervous energy. "Um.. a-are you from one of the other c-classes?"


        • #5
          "No." How to explain where he came from? He kept his eyes fixed forward into the flames, their chaotic unpredictably calming the tumultuous storm in his mind that had him wondering at what else the day would bring. Him? "I'm not a Jedi." He answered plainly, shifting the cup in a circle to absorb the heat from other parts of it into his palms. "I don't belong here." He lifted the cup to silence himself from saying anything more for the moment.

          His first sip was a cautious one to test the heat, followed by a second longer one. In the end he chose not to mention his mother, or the Sith, or even his father for that matter. He just chose to be where he was. "What is your name?" He asked, because he knew one day they would grow old on opposite sides, and he would meet her again as a different person, and her a different girl. His eyes turned to meet hers, his blue locking with her purple, unblinking and focused.


          • #6
            Not a Jedi? Ce'erina merely looked at him, waiting for further explanation. When it came, it puzzled her. Did he mean that he was not an adept? It felt rude to pry and so she remained silent, the anxious kicking of her feet rocking to a slow halt. She watched as he tasted the drink that she had brought for him, her own hands raising the cup she held to her lips so she could sip the aromatic infusion. The chamomile always helped her when she couldn't sleep. She wished she had known about it back on Voss when she alone had to fend off her nightmares.

            She looked at him again when he spoke, inquiring about her name. This time, she aimed a somewhat brave smile at him, lowering her cup back into her lap. "My name is Ce'erina. You can c-call me Ceeri, if you like. What is your name?"


            • #7
              The herbal mixture was without a doubt different from what he was used to drinking. It wasn't bad, but it wasn't to his style either. He drank it because it was warm, and because it was readily available. "Gavin." She hadn't given him a last name, so he chose not to give his own. His linked with a Sith, one she may or may not know, and he wasn't interested in making himself a target for the Jedi to use him to strike back at his mother.

              "My father..." He began, keeping away from the details of his mother. "...well, my mother told me my father is a Jedi here." He shrugged, sipping from his tea to allow him the opportunity to delay any sort of response to her. "I've never met him. Don't know if I even want to." He barely whispered the last statement, contemplating the case. He was here, because it was a step, but he probably didn't want to make any more. One was enough.


              • #8
                Ce'erina smiled somewhat as he offered his own name in return, committing it to memory. He did not seem like he wanted to stop with just an introduction, though, and so she waited in silence as he gathered additional thoughts. So, his father was a Jedi at the enclave? That certainly explained a lot. She tried to keep her mind from wandering, from making up wild assumptions, and instead waited for him to expound further.

                His admission surprised her and her eyebrows arched to demonstrate as much. All of the Jedi she had met thus far were wise, kind, responsible, and strong. If her father was among them, she certainly would have wanted to meet him. But, she could sense even in her experience that there was something else that held Gavin back, something beyond uncertainty. "A small part of you must want to, if you are here. T-that is.. if you don't mind me saying that."


                • #9
                  He was a little annoyed at her assumption, but maybe not for the reasons he would display. He kept himself calm and instead explained himself. “Not really. I just wanted to see if he would come.” He wanted his Father to try to reach out to him, not for Gavin to have to do any work. And in the end, he’d probably dismiss his father, but he’d feel better about it. In truth, he’d had enough of talking about his father issues for the time being.

                  He turned his eyes ahead to the fire, redirecting his line of questions to turn the attention on her. “What are you even doing here right now?” It was rather late for her to be here having tea. He at least had no responsibilities on the planet, but she had already led him to believe she was a Jedi.


                  • #10
                    Ce'erina regretted her bold words the moment they escaped her, watching annoyance flash across his face at her assumption. She shrank back into her chair and looked away from him, her fingers fumbling over one another from their wrapped position around her teacup. She couldn't presume to know Gavin's situation any more than he could presume to know whether his father could detect his presence or not. Inwardly, she hoped that the Jedi would turn up and change the rocky relationship they had. Everybody deserved a chance. She didn't think saying that to her new acquaintance would be wise, though.

                    "I have nightmares." She confessed, blurting it out suddenly. Her cheeks turned red and she turned a glance over her shoulder toward where the Jedi Knight who had accompanied her spoke with the bartender. She looked back toward Gavin and then to the now cool liquid at the bottom of her cup. "I-I can't sleep sometimes and this helps. The dreams just feel s-so real sometimes."


                    • #11
                      Nightmares? He was unable to hide the questioning look he gave her, one that she was probably used to. He was curious, and it would lead the conversation further away from his father. He finished his tea in a last big swallow, giving him the opportunity to set it aside and no longer need to hold anything. He left her, but not by far. His small frame moved to sit closer to the hearth, looking back towards the girl.

                      "What do you have nightmares about?" He wondered if it was the Dark Side. His mother probably would have been proud if he could have corrupted a Jedi, but beyond that he just wanted to know, like any inquisitive child. With the heat so close, he was finally aware of just how cold his clothes were, the skin beneath them warming more slowly. He turned to lean his side into the hearth completely, shoulder against the brick, letting him get the heat but not so direct an exposure that he was uncomfortable.


                      • #12
                        She was, indeed, used to that look. Ceeri had to explain herself quite a few times since she'd come to the enclave. The Mystics on Voss told her they were budding visions, the promise that she would one day be counted among them. But, there was never anything concrete about these nightmares, no proof that any of the scenarios came true either. Most of the sequences involved people she never even met before. Of course, the interpreters had an explanation for that. One that didn't make a whole lot of sense to her now.

                        "People getting hurt... or dying. Sometimes, though, I do have very good dreams. People reuniting, babies being born. It's all very strange, really." She informed him with no small amount of uncertainty. "Pretty weird, huh?"


                        • #13
                          To him they were still just nightmares. He knew nothing of her people, nor any visions. Their was only what she gave him, that they were nightmares, but that their were also dreams. He knew the Force though, even if he weren't trained in it. He knew enough about it from his mother to understand that it was possible the Force was speaking to her, maybe even the Dark Side if she were having such things as nightmares.

                          "Everybody dreams. Not too weird, really." In the end, he had to admit thay based on how much she had told him, it wasn't altogether strange. "It's just...most peoples dreams involved themselves. Do yours?" He turned a bit more, resting his back into the hearth now, both conduction and convection warming him more thoroughly. The closer proximity certainly helped, though he was mildly eager to leave the frigid planet and return to better climates.


                          • #14
                            Seated at a nearby table, Kaie listened to the conversation and though she had only seen the younger female, the boy was unknown except for that hint of darkness lurking within. Green eyes studied both as they talked of dreams and nightmares, something she understood well. Having helped New Republic soldiers from their wounds and eventually doing all she could to have them return to duty or get home, she had seen it all. The horrors of war had taken the white witch to a place that she had never expected to go, but her training and trust in the Force had kept her from going over the brink herself.

                            "There are times when the Force shows us things to come that helps us help those in trouble. Be there for them in their time of need," she interjected. "Don't let these fears overcome you, just trust that you've been forewarned and take comfort in that. What you do with the vision however, is up to you." She took it a step further, "Sometimes dreams are just an amalgam of fears and concerns from the day, nothing more. Visions are usually more realistic and specific instead of full of symbolism."