$LAYYYTER
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
No title available
Claire Keane
ellievsbear
Aqua Utopia｜海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
RMH
art blog(derogatory)
Origami Around
Kiana Khansmith
blake kathryn
occasionally subtle
Product Placement
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
Three Goblin Art
Discoholic 🪩
if i look back, i am lost
Acquired Stardust
Andulka
titsay
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from Germany
seen from Australia
seen from United States
seen from Netherlands
seen from United States
seen from Sweden
seen from Malaysia
seen from Italy
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Netherlands
seen from Germany
seen from United States
@lostserenno
Independent, canon and headcanon-based young Dooku of House Serenno, stolen from his proper point in the timeline by the Force and the mun's designs. Written by Sparrow (she/they, 25+) Established January 24th, 2026.
See here for guidelines, muse info and content warnings. Also found at: @vizslajetii
Plotting guide - Headcanons & meta - RP memes and starters - Promo
@moonoflego from here
There were not many things that could soften Yan's demeanor, and while sparring did not soften it, per se, it had always been one of his pleasures: he was a duelist, he lived for the conversation that was a proper spar, a proper battle, when given time to shine.
It was also the only thing keeping him reasonably busy and steady, given the situation, and the time, and the way he was being kept on Coruscant. Ostensibly for his own safety, which he had some thoughts about.
But he liked the salles. Whether he was learning, or teaching, or just sparring, and he had not often found oponents that made the challenge exhilarating.
Anakin was one of them. And so, the answer was already a given, the moment a spar was offered: it didn't matter that Dooku had spent half of the night scouring the holonet for anything that might lead him to clues about Sifo-Dyas.
"I'm in." He said.
And after a moment of consideration, because his current clothes would do, he'd just changed anyway, he nodded, and while he didn't smile, not exactly, the thrill of the spar was there in his presence in the Force, and in his voice as he spoke again.
"Let's go."
DISAPPROVAL , DOOKU mentions . he certainly hopes his former master can sense it . qui - gon isn't particularly trying to mask it . he spreads his hands , head tilting with the slightest lift of his brows .
❝ a surprisingly curt greeting , given your stance on decorum . shall we find a room to speak ? ❞
"Ever the diplomat." Dooku replies, before turning around, with a gesture that is clearly an indication to follow him, and keeping his pace steady enough to be followed without forcing Qui-Gon to hurry. "Come."
It would not do them good to be seen together, but there was no helping that now, and despite his faint concern, and all he has long learned and faced, even now he cannot simply ignore his former Padawan.
He just hopes, as he leads him to one of the meeting rooms he's already secured, not far from them, that Qui-Gon is not about to discover something he should not. But this is not what he says.
"Our hosts were not expecting you." Is what he chooses, because they would have told him, he believes. "Should I plan proper introductions?"
Slides him a freshly brewed cup of Master Yoda's murky bog water tea, curious to see if he'll drink it or if he will be normal about it.
He will not even sniff it: he knows what it is, immediately. And it's familiar in the most... intense of ways.
But he has faced even worse things for the sake of diplomacy, and for the sake of not offending his old Master, and one doesn't make it to Knight under Yoda without becoming immune to some things.
So he'll drink it. Primly, properly, almost aristocratically. Not a single change of expression, and a very polite, "Thank you".
He actually considers downing it all while looking at the Master in the eye, but he judges it would be going too far. For now.
@kyberled from here!
Patience is an important lesson, one that Yan's own Master spent an eternity attempting to drill into his head, and which he managed only mostly. What he had was the ability to plot, and scheme, and try to figure out how to get out of this situation cleanly, because unlike most Jedi, Yan was aware that he was only allowed into the field under heavy watching. Even if the watching was retroactive, most of the time.
"We are certainly not giving them a win." He replied, almost offended -and concerned, and a bit on edge-, even as he walked around the place and catalogued what his eyes told him, and what the Force corroborated.
And then the other had given them a hiding place, and Yan pointedly did not sigh.
"Well that is one place to wait." He replies, because he cannot entirely help it. "By all means."
"They're watching us," @lostserenno says. | ( meme )
Obi-Wan hums softly in acknowledgement before looking at the man at his side. The Jedi Master is still trying to grapple the situation. And as much as he complains that Yoda never tells him anything, to be brought in on THIS situation, Obi-Wan already feels a headache forming.
Of course, he knew why.
Obi-Wan's so strong in the COSMIC FORCE, his visions proof of that. And being in the lineage of Dooku does not feel like a coincidence either.
"They're just curious," he reassures. Obi-Wan's battalion is on leave having been called back to the temple for this. The natural born and clone born members of the GAR were bustling around the campus.
Obi-Wan glanced back to the group that was gathering and talking. Someone pointed their way and he couldn't help feeling disappointed in his own men. The Master knew what it was like to be at the temple with everyone pointing and whispering. It happened when he returned from Melidaan.
"They'll get bored soon, would you like to go somewhere else to talk?"
There is such a thing as curiosity, and then there is this, and Dooku has been the target of many gazes over the years, for all he hasn't lived many: diplomacy tends to require attention, and focus, and try as he may he has never been able to be anything but clearly Jedi.
He also used to welcome the attention, when he had earned it: even at his age he is already a competent enough duelist that he was considering pursuing the mastery of his chosen style. Now, however, he is here, and despite some attempts by the Council, he has gathered more than enough.
And now, the reassurance makes him bristle as much as the eyes on him, and he breathes and releases them both into the Force, and focuses on the Master before him, and what he has read of him. What he knows, now.
The eyes on them are not going anywhere, he supposes.
"Only if the conversation will be best served sitting down." He replies, and he's grateful his tone is steady. "Otherwise, the gardens are not often busy at this time of the day."
And he suspects there is going to be quite the conversation, when technically Master Kenobi is his future grandpadawan, and Yan does expect he has noticed who he is.
⸻ ⛧ 𝘛𝘏𝘖𝘜𝘎𝘏 𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘑𝘌𝘋𝘐 𝘉𝘌𝘓𝘐𝘌𝘝𝘌 𝘏𝘌 could be swayed, they have failed to understand the confidence Casimir has in his own experiences. It is not because he is stubborn, but that he has his own faith that cannot be talked out of him. ❝ Do I look complacent to you? ❞ Now, of course, this question is purely circumstantial. Casimir is not willing to give up the self he has so carefully crafted just because he was in the custody of narrowminded Jedi. Though, it would seem that they were at a stalemate. So maybe he was relatively stubborn after all.
❝ Perhaps you have faith in the Force. But do you see the future as I can? As your friend? ❞ The answer, he assumes with some level of assurance was no. It was unnecessary for the Jedi to try so hard to change what Casimir knew to be true. What he knew how to practice without it consuming him. Though the Force ( as they call it ) has not threatened such things to him. Unless, of course, he was angry & fortunately he was not often eager to be as such.
Arms fold across his chest, giving Dooku a mild huff of disapproval. ❝ You allowed me to show my hand, you cannot then tell me that I am wrong. It's rude. ❞ It is like arguing with a wall anyhow, which wasn't any fun. How difficult it was to break through Dooku's walls of stoicism. Thus it had become his personal vendetta as to not lose his own sanity. ❝ Otherwise I will continue to bend your spoons when they serve lunch in the cafeteria. ❞
He's not sure that complacent is the word, but there's certainly a stubbornness there that Yan can only raise an eyebrow at: nobody has ever accused Yan Dooku of being agreeable and he's not about to start giving people reasons to do so.
"I have my faith and my experiences to draw on, just as do you." He points out, steadily, because he's not above being drawn into argument.
He cannot see the future, he does not have the connection Sifo-Dyas has, and he cannot help but be glad for it. He also doesn't have the blind faith in the will of the Force others have, but he has enough, and he has seen enough, that despite his doubts and despite his disquiet he cannot find it in himself to believe in a pre-ordained fate. Not with all he has lived, and not with all he has seen.
And now with all that the Jedi Order has seen, over the years. Even when Casimir comes from a very different tradition.
"I allowed you to show your hand, and then argued. It's not on me if your defense runs on personal experience." He points out, before allowing himself some levity. "Not when we both know my spoons are already doomed."
"Don't worry, we've all noticed. Well, most of us have, there are those in the council who believe it is . . . a false flag, something to distract us from the war at hand." There's a slight cringe to his tone. The Force is an ocean and it's natural for it to ebb and flow, but what Obi-Wan is feeling is less like a tide and more like the retreat before a tsunami. Only, it never comes. It just keeps on pulling away and pulling away and distancing itself from the shore. How anyone can ignore it, he doesn't know.
"Your dedication to him is admirable." He never had the opportunity to meet the man, but Master Sifo-Dyas has been a shadow over his shoulder all the same. Obi-Wan suspects he is yet another reason why Qui-Gon kept him so distant from Dooku, not wanting to have his visions encouraged or validated by someone constantly plagued with them. In his younger years, Obi-Wan's connection to the Unifying Force—while quite strong—was comparatively weak and like with any unpracticed skill, faded with age. He's never wished it otherwise, but he bets it would be rather helpful now.
"Forgive me for asking, but why do you think there is purposeful reason to this? The man I've known you to be is . . . more materialistic, less trusting in the Force and the way my Master always spoke about you, I assumed you were always that way." Master Nu is similar, different in that she trusts her instincts and the universe's whispers, but she's as equally efficient. She gets shit done and when she's not getting shit done, she is preparing for the next stone to drop.
"Wouldn't there be a better time to be here? Five years ago when the Clones were still in training?" He's hesitant to say before they were ever created. Their entire lives have revolved around war and dying for a system which refuses to see their value, but Obi-Wan is selfish and he doesn't want a universe without them. "I mean- do you think- do think you'll even remember this if you get home?"
A false flag, and Dooku doesn't dignify that with a reply, less because he has none but because he does need a second, his frown sharp and disbelieving and said disbelief clear in the Force as answer enough, to process that. A false flag, from the Force? Even more so when they are at war?
And then Kenobi speaks of Yan's dedication, and he doesn't look away, but the tendency is there, for a brief second. He's not one who receives flattery well and it's taken worse when it doesn't feel like flattery. But then again, Dooku is always better when he's somewhere in an official reason, and he's aware, and has long been, that he does not have the kindest character. Of course he's loyal to Sifo-Dyas, how could he not be?
But that all pales when asked a question, then another, that he doesn't know an answer for. And so he stills, for a moment, sets his feelings aside and releases them into the Force, and goes for the easiest one first.
"If I remember this when I get home, I find it unlikely the timeline will remain as it has, so it would stand to reason it either splits, or the Force makes me forget." He says, in the end. "But we cannot be certain, and I suppose we might only find out if I come face to face with the man I become." He adds, dryly, before his tone turns more circumspect. "But it does not feel like the best time to appear, no." He will concede.
And then, after a moment, he speaks again.
"I don't yet know the man I become. I cannot judge what could have changed." He settles for.
And he will not say he might have his reasons, not when he knows what little he knows.
A grimace was made under the mask, “...we do have magic and sorcery here, and it’s kind of gotten normal to see both of them now.” Peter admitted. It was a good point, if people thought that the Force was just more magic, or something else completely, they wouldn’t realize what they were actually working with. Like years ago when he found the Chitauri grenade and had no idea until it was at imminent risk of going off. And it did go off. Maybe that actually put them at a greater risk right now, maybe that was why a Jedi was sent to earth to check and make sure things were alright. Peter was pretty sure people like Strange weren’t actually using the Force, and he hadn’t seen a lot of what Asgardians could do but he was pretty sure some of them just had magic, like Loki was supposed to have done,. Now that he was thinking about it, yeah, the Force could be mistaken for something like that.
He paused and tilted his head, “Uh, local for here, you mean? Because the money on this planet is different depending on where you are and I don’t know how they can do an exchange for people from off the planet.” was that even a thing? Was there some kind of currency system for the whole galaxy to help people traveling from one place to the next? In the movies Peter remembered them talking about credits but if the movies weren’t right he wasn’t sure if that was even true. Not that they would work on Earth anyways, and if the archives had different clothes than what people were actually wearing Peter wasn’t sure if the money was just from another country or a whole other time period. If either of them were. Somewhere between the seventies and…he didn’t know, the fifteen seventies? Maybe? Or earlier?
For now, it sounded like a change of clothes that he could spare was going to have to be the best option, “Sure, no problem. Uh…give me a couple of minutes to change real quick?” Peter asked, waiting for any kind of confirmation before jumping back up again. Twenty feet vertically in the air and then webbing used to zip up higher and over the edge of the rooftop to his stashed backpack a block and a half away. Less than two minutes later, he was dropping back down and landed in a crouch before standing again. Bag over his shoulder, hair a mess from the swing back, and clothes a bit wrinkled but clean and normal and definitely would be way more normal for walking back with a Jedi to campus. Which still, should feel so much weirder than it did, “Okay, you good to go now?”
|| @lostserenno ||
Local for the planet, of course, and after a moment Yan took a small pouch from one of the many pockets in the layers of his tunics, and took out several plain gold coins, some silver coins, and one debit card. It was what the archive had managed to gather from the planet, and what the records had, and from some travelers that had been nearby enough or had interacted with the locals in whatever fashion in recent years.
"I hope this might suffice?" He asked Peter, before offering, of course, the confirmation that he could go and change clothes, before seeing him use actual webs, apparently, to jump away over the rooftop.
Yan merely waited, quietly, attending to the Force and to its currents, to the potential threats and the potential shifts to keep an eye on, until he felt the Spider-Man approach again, and turned to face him.
"Let's go." He said, before considering the street nearby, then jumping down easily to one of the little alleys where they wouldn't be so noticed, using the Force to halt his fall and save himself from the shock, and knowing his companion could jump down on his own. "Do lead the way."
@localwebslingers
"Not with you," Vader said, easily enough. He knew his shortcomings. They had been picked at and prodded for years now under Sidious's astute eye. Patience may have been difficult for him when he was younger, but these days all he had was time. All he had was to wait. Bide his time. Wait for his moment. A predator stalking its prey.
Vader hummed what may have been a short laugh at the mention of a man who he had once considered with fondness. There was the faintest hint of... Irritation at the slight toward his old master, but that was quickly squashed. Obi-Wan was not worthy of even an ounce of respect. Less so than even the dead man before him.
"Once a fool, always a fool," Vader said. "If he still sees a child, does he even recognize his own hand in the fall of his brethren? Or does he cling to a false belief that I may see the 'error of my ways'?"
Certainly not with him, and certainly in no way he could have ever seen. And he has not, he must admit, watched Vader beyond the need to keep his rage fed, and even then Qui-Gon was there, to be an unasked-for counterpoint in the Force.
And then there came Skywalker's slight against Qui-Gon, and Dooku did not let himself react. His own irritation was enough: Dooku was known to be caustic with his former padawan, but he had earned a right Vader had not.
Perhaps his situation had taught him something, after all.
"Ah, so you would set blame on his shoulders." He mused, dry. "By all means, do tell me why."
It's a fun little tidbit that, of my two muses, the one who could theoretically and technically survive on raw bone is not Tarre, but the Dookling (blame ancient Sith experiments on Serenno)
The war effort pulls in people from all sectors and professions. Despite Aargau’s professed neutrality in the war, even Brienne feels its tug in the fluctuating markets, concerned clients needing reassurance about the security of their financial assets, and her own safety when traveling. It is the war effort also that makes her cognizant of the Jedi. Their activities make holonews headlines.
“If my poorly-conceived questions do not make my answer obvious.” Brienne muses apologetically, her chin dipping as she acknowledges her ignorance. “But no, I have not. I’m rather new to Coruscant, and it's unlikely to cross a Jedi’s path at home.” The diversity of the ecumenopolis is something the young banker is slowly growing accustomed to; there are so many different species in one place that every day she encounters something or someone new.
“Considering the Jedi are so few, I mean. At least, that’s what I've heard.” She pauses, a pleasant smile stretching. “Is your presence here diplomacy then?”
"There are not many of us." He replies, and he keeps his tone even. Steady.
There are so few of them, and the war is ensuring the dying might even outnumber the living, at some point. And the frustration of it all is a beast he holds back through discipline, and through releasing it into the Force, because he felt no malice in the comment.
He's far too aware that there are places where Jedi are almost a legend.
"Yet historically our numbers have varied widely. The Force shall provide." Is all he says.
It's the careful diplomatic answer. It's a hope even he clings to, even with all he knows.
And his presence here, in a way, is indeed diplomacy.
"I am one of the several Jedi assigned to the Senate, at the moment." He reveals. "Which means the occasional invitation, and I do like meeting new people."
Which is not entirely a lie. He just dislikes politicians, and yet is too practical not to try to help, insofar as he can, given the situation.
"How are you finding Coruscant? I am told it's an acquired taste, for some."
It is not wrong to inquire more. With a nod, Casimir sets the datapad aside. A location in mind was helpful, but surely he could divulge more from this with a bit more concentration. Picking up the comb, he lets it rest above the sand and ash for a long moment before waving it across as he had with his hand. The star system that was engraved there solidifies but other symbols begin to form. He sets the comb back in the center so he might take his finger and make a few drawings himself to accompany the prophetic design.
❝ This location is confirmed. I have no doubts in this. This first symbol is expectation, suggesting that your companion is expected to be here. ❞ Which may even suggest that this event has not happened yet. Although he cannot guarantee whether it is past or future, there tended to be signs even if they, themselves cannot confirm. Lifting his finger from the dirt, he points to a particular pattern that spread across the center of the entire design, ❝ The trail is obscured by another will. There will not be much more I can gather from this. Unless... ❞
Reaching for his own wrist, Casimir pulls off the bracelet he had let Yan hold onto for that brief time. Dropping the bracelet into the center to join the comb, there is an immediate shift. The sand moves on its own, rearranging the star system so that it was cut in half and spreading out from Yan as if he were the center. He watches with interest and careful study, only now folding his arms on the table before he looks to his client and asks, ❝ Was there something he asked of you? Is there a promise left unfinished between you two? It looks like your fates are entwined. I am glad you came to me. ❞
Expectation, and Yan doesn't interrupt despite the want to, because he can feel the Force at work and he has the common sense to wait until more information is revealed, and the information, as expected -as hoped- comes. A location, and an expectation, and he has to hope he can work with that. That the Force will provide, the same way it has provided so far. The same way it has brought him here, of all places.
And then there is word of another will, and Yan pretends he does not feel the way the Galaxy feels so different to the ways of the Force here. He doesn't know who might be interfering, but it would make sense someone is.
Then, the bracelet, and something shifts, and Yan would be inclined to think this is but a trick if he didn't feel the way the Force shifts around them.
For a moment, Yan considers the situation. Considers the priest. Considers whether he knows enough. And then he makes one further choice, because the Force is yet to scream beyond the disquiet Yan is mostly convinced is his.
"He sent a distress signal my way." Yan explains. "And I, of course, answered it."
And now there they are, just as lost, in a time that is not theirs. Or so Yan suspects. That their fates are intertwined, if that is the truth, is a welcome truth.
𝐘𝐀𝐍 & 𝐏𝐀𝐃𝐌𝐄 @lostserenno
Padme nodded politely. She had been briefed, of course, and knew he was asigned to her security. Stubborn, she often believed it unecessary to send Jedi Knights alongside her during those relief missions. But in times of war, the safety of Senators was no trivial matter, and she had learned to reluctantly accept their presence.
She followed him inside the ship. Padme had changed out of her usual Senator clothes, and was wearing a sensible outfit, with pants, a jacket, and comfortable boots. Her blaster hung at her hips, a reminder that while she was no Jedi, she was certainly not defenseless, either.
Master Dooku's comment was not completely surprising. Most Senators did not care about such things, save for a few that she considered her friends. Even worse, many Senators benefitted from the war, and wanted nothing but to see it carry on.
"As Senator, it is my duty to help people to the best of my abilities," she replied, "many smaller planets are suffering from the war. They never asked to be in the middle of this war, and yet people are starving and losing their homes." Padme shook her head. "I can only hope that the war will end soon. But in the meantime, I must do all I can to help those in need."
He was not fond of blasters, he had never been, but he was also a pragmatist, over all: she seemed sensible enough that she could be trusted with a weapon, unlike some of the senators he had escorted in the past, in a time that felt almost like a previous life.
Of course, she might still prove him wrong, but her words, even as he regarded her steadily and listened with the calm of one who had learned diplomacy over more than a decade, rang of truth. There was no deception, and there was not, he thought, visible selfishness.
"You believe this." He considered. And then, he smiled. The gesture was small, and quiet, and brief, but it was there. "Good. We might yet get along." He even half-joked, before regarding her blaster, and then her demeanor.
This was supposed to be an easy mission. The Force was not yet whispering danger, but he knew how such missions tended to go.
"I am not here to interfere with your humanitarian mission." He settled for. "But I will still need your agreement that if at any point I tell you we must move, and move now, you will not argue. I am happy to explain after the fact," he added, a bit more wry, "but in my experience, the Force tends to lean towards immediate warnings. All else can be argued on the way." He added, even as his focus wandered slightly, exploring the ship with the Force even as they spoke.
Working on drafts and this line defines the Dookling to a t:
nobody has ever accused Yan Dooku of being agreeable and he's not about to start giving people reasons to do so.
Alright, a dark side and light side of the Force was still a thing, and from what was being described, it sounded pretty close to what Peter grew up hearing about for it. He wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing, but at least he really did understand what one thing was. Two things actually, if there was a Rebel Alliance and a Resistance, even if they probably weren't like the ones he was familiar with, "I don't think we have an organization like the kinds you've worked with before." Peter added, "But, maybe it's still actually good news, right? That and people thinking Jedi and Sith and the Force is all just fiction. Wouldn't that mean that less people were actually turning to the dark side and at risk of doing anything with it?"
That had to count for something. Sure, some people might believe it was real but it was going to be a small number, it might not be so bad. Maybe no one had even started turning to the dark side and no Sith had actually shown up at all. That would be great news.
Peter looked Yan over, face twisting slightly under the mask in thought, "Well...you don't really blend in but you don't stand out in a way that's going to make anyone suspicious either." he said slowly, "You might have people who want to take a picture with you thinking it's a costume but... I don't think anyone is going to pay too much attention to you past that." unfortunately, it also meant there might not be many people who would take anything Yan said seriously either. If any Sith really had shown up on Earth, or there were people actually learning to use the dark side of the Force, that would make it harder to get help and warn people about it. Maybe someone with SHIELD would but Peter really didn't think he could suggest reaching out to them, or knew how to reach them, "But if you want a change of clothes to blend in more while you're here, I might have something that could fit you? You're welcome to come and look, at least then you wouldn't have to try and buy any."
|| @lostserenno ||
"It would be good news," Yan considered, carefully, "if the lack of awareness translated to lack of ability as well. But that is not necessarily the case." He added, choosing his words carefully. "You might not know it as the Force, you might have a different way to refer to it." He explained. "Yours wouldn't be the first planet where it's known as magic, or sorcery, or something completely different."
And thus, the corruption would not only be far less noticeable in a general sense, but they would have no ways to understand it properly.
"And thus, not something easily recognized."
He knew what it was, of course, and he could feel the faint awareness that assured him he was somewhere he should be, but the rest of it was, at the moment, mildly unclear. It would be clear in time, or through action.
And meanwhile, he needed to move in a way that would not compromise his goal. And that did involve not calling the attention he apparently would. And the offer was one he was far too pragmatic to refuse.
"I have some of the local coinage," he admitted, "but I would consider it a personal favor if I could borrow something I could go shopping in, considering the situation." He admitted, somewhat wry. "I brought several styles of clothing, just in case, but the local fashion is very different from what our archives contained."
@localwebslingers
His question did not carry the intent to cause discomfort, but it brought upon Rey a brief yet lingering sense of inadequacy. Had the teachings and training passed on by Luke and Leia left Rey with enough knowledge to claim she was a Jedi? If they had met perhaps under brighter circumstances, Rey’s answer might have been different. “I’m still training but I will be a true Jedi, someday.”
Dooku’s introduction was unusual. The title of Knight was unheard of, only referenced in legends of the old Jedi Order. The Force was strong with him, that much was clear in the presence of his aura as the distance between them continued to close. “There aren’t supposed to be any more Jedi Knights. The Order’s collapse was years ago, before I was born.”
Rey carefully studied the man with matching curiosity, until he revealed the origin of her new power. She looked down at her hand with a mixture of horror, fear and disbelief. “That can't be true,” she adamantly shook her head, "nothing about this makes sense." Rey desperately needed guidance, craved the soothing reassurance of Leia’s wisdom but what would her Master think of her now?
What if I really do have darkness inside me?
Rey dropped her hand, clenching it into a fist. Her focus returned to Dooku, fascinated and puzzled by him in equal measure. "Can I ask where you’re from?”
He had nodded, at her statement: that did sound like a Padawan, even if he couldn't feel a Master nearby. Then again, she was old enough and clearly experienced enough, despite the supposed nature of the displayed skills, to be on her own. That all had felt normal.
To hear that there were no more Jedi Knights was, however, a different kind of concern. The Galaxy felt Darker, and far more silent, yes, but still he needed all his training to release his disquiet into the Force, considering how he wasn't perceiving any lie there.
"There is much that does not make sense, right now, I agree." He told her. "And maybe we can figure it out together."
It would certainly be the practical choice, as with so much that was unfounded. And speaking of unfounded matters...
"The legends are clear on the matter." He told her. "The legends are, of course, likely wrong." He added, not so much reassuring as matter-of-factly. "I have been close to many artifacts that held the power of the Dark Side. It is quite notorious, and it was not here."
He would have noticed it, he was certain.
