Hanging listlessly in the silent void of space, the metallic temple of Brighthome was everything Eirik loathed. There was no warm sun beating down on him from overhead – only the cold, fluorescent lighting glaring at him dispassionately. There was no soft loam with its burrowing insects beneath his feet – only hard durasteel that echoed his falling steps. The walls were harsh and angular and the hallways snaked like great veins coursing through the body of this steely creature. He was like a caged animal in places like these; he longed to be planet-side, not hiding away in the unknown reaches. This safety was fleeting as the vicelike grip of their ancestral foe slowly constricted them. It made him restless.
Yavin had been a major loss for the Order and many fled into the far reaches of space; some left with a semblance of order and returned to havens they knew the enemy could not find, while a frightening many simply retreated in a blind panic. He hoped they would be found. They needed every Jedi for the days to come.
Eirik had been in a sour mood since the jungle temple fell to the Sith, which only exacerbated his saturnine disposition. Still, the Order needed its peacekeepers and defenders now more than ever, and he would not shame his legacy by shrinking away when the call to action came. Brighthome would be a temporary sanctuary, but one that was very desperately needed.
Dark rings hung low under his venom-green eyes like the twin suns of Tatooine dropping below the desert horizon. He hadn’t gotten much sleep since the evacuation. His beard was groomed just enough to be presentable, and his hair style was little more than whatever he managed by combing it with his fingers as he arose from fitful rest. He tasted the stale, recycled air silently hissing out from the vent nearby. Today would be a long day.
He had gotten the news not long after Hailee’s investigation that she was to be his new apprentice. Penance for her mistakes and the negligence of her former master. He was not angry, nor was he upset; he was disappointed that the Order had failed this Padawan learner the way that it had, and he silently vowed to make amends. Padawans needed a guiding hand, now more than ever, and Knight Erval had done naught to aid her in her development. The sins of sloth permeated the hearts of many Jedi in this dark era of the Order, but Eirik believed that even the fiercest storms would eventually abate.
Quiet thuds from heavy footfalls preceded his arrival at Padawan Lightwood’s quarters on the station as he passed by his peers and comrades, offering little else in the way of greeting aside from a mute nod and a wan smile. First impressions were crucial, and so he had taken extra care grooming himself, though no mere combing of hair or brushing of teeth could hide the exhaustion that blanketed him. He wore a set of simple earthen-toned clothes; he was never one for feigning stylishness. His sunfire sword lightly bounced with his steps, coming to a rest only as its master halted in front of her door.
He thumped two knocks against the metal of her door before calling out, ”Padawan Lightwood,” in his rumbling, gravelly voice, ”This is Knight Sunwielder.” He took a step back and clasped his hands behind his back, patiently waiting. He wondered if his new apprentice was just as curious to meet him as he was to meet her.
@LadyRen
Yavin had been a major loss for the Order and many fled into the far reaches of space; some left with a semblance of order and returned to havens they knew the enemy could not find, while a frightening many simply retreated in a blind panic. He hoped they would be found. They needed every Jedi for the days to come.
Eirik had been in a sour mood since the jungle temple fell to the Sith, which only exacerbated his saturnine disposition. Still, the Order needed its peacekeepers and defenders now more than ever, and he would not shame his legacy by shrinking away when the call to action came. Brighthome would be a temporary sanctuary, but one that was very desperately needed.
Dark rings hung low under his venom-green eyes like the twin suns of Tatooine dropping below the desert horizon. He hadn’t gotten much sleep since the evacuation. His beard was groomed just enough to be presentable, and his hair style was little more than whatever he managed by combing it with his fingers as he arose from fitful rest. He tasted the stale, recycled air silently hissing out from the vent nearby. Today would be a long day.
He had gotten the news not long after Hailee’s investigation that she was to be his new apprentice. Penance for her mistakes and the negligence of her former master. He was not angry, nor was he upset; he was disappointed that the Order had failed this Padawan learner the way that it had, and he silently vowed to make amends. Padawans needed a guiding hand, now more than ever, and Knight Erval had done naught to aid her in her development. The sins of sloth permeated the hearts of many Jedi in this dark era of the Order, but Eirik believed that even the fiercest storms would eventually abate.
Quiet thuds from heavy footfalls preceded his arrival at Padawan Lightwood’s quarters on the station as he passed by his peers and comrades, offering little else in the way of greeting aside from a mute nod and a wan smile. First impressions were crucial, and so he had taken extra care grooming himself, though no mere combing of hair or brushing of teeth could hide the exhaustion that blanketed him. He wore a set of simple earthen-toned clothes; he was never one for feigning stylishness. His sunfire sword lightly bounced with his steps, coming to a rest only as its master halted in front of her door.
He thumped two knocks against the metal of her door before calling out, ”Padawan Lightwood,” in his rumbling, gravelly voice, ”This is Knight Sunwielder.” He took a step back and clasped his hands behind his back, patiently waiting. He wondered if his new apprentice was just as curious to meet him as he was to meet her.
@LadyRen