RPlog:Accepting Help

Forest Clearing A spacious forest clearing, nearly entirely surrounded with magestic trees. Sunlight filters in through the canopy, painting a warm glow over the grassy floor. Thick vines dotted with pale flowers entangle the rough trunks, climbing nearly to the branches themselves, and tiny yellow and orange daisy-like flowers spread edge the meadow, their spicy aroma encompasing the crisp air. A gentle breeze fills the branches, and adds a haunting melody to the otherwise silent clearing.

Kyyel As you look over this human, the first thing you can tell is that he stands tall, a little bit under two meters in height. His build and movements are that of an athlete, or at least someone who keeps in shape. His head is covered by light brown hair, which is brushed straight back; the ends coming to rest just under the bottom level of his ears. A pair of deep gray eyes look out from his face, staying focused on whatever they are looking at. His face itself holds sharp feature; yet cannot help bring to mind pictures of rogues... as this man's lower face is covered with a good amount of rough-stubble. Under all that though, there is normally a smile; warm, and good natured. Kyyel wears a deep black shirt, which covers his body from neck to wrists. The only variation to the shirt is above his right shoulder, where a dark brown shoulder-pad rests; no usage or defense is apparant by it, it seems just simply part of the style. His hands are covered by a pair of gloves suitable for piloting or fencing, technically crafted within to give support and padding in all the right places. The exterior of the gloves looks to be of the finest of tanned nerf leather, dyed a deep, dark black. On his legs, a pair of light tan trousers run down, each leg with several large pockets that can be used. The pants fit loosely over the human's legs, apparantly giving him full freedom of movement. On his belt rests a holster for a heavy blaster, and on the other side, is an ornate scabbard, obviously for a sword. The scabbard itself is made of black carmteek leather, and over that is laid silver olumite, drawn out in intricate patterns over the leather. On his feet, a pair of worn, but still quite serviceable boots rest. Their coloring is a mix of dark browns and blacks, and seem to allow for the most ease of movement possible.

Annalise There is a lost, haunted quality to the pale green eyes of this young human woman, a complex expression upon her pale features that imperfectly hides something which burns inside her. Her hair is almost as wild as her eyes: a shimmering, bright shade of silver bordering on white, cut short with bangs and somewhat longer layers that curve around her cheeks and end just above her slender neck.

She wears a typical, tattered spacer's jacket, with a form-fitting, sleek black jumpsuit beneath that shows off her long-legged grace, slim hips, and narrow waist. A well-worn utility belt circles her waist, a blaster holster slung low on one thigh. Her movements and mannerisms are calm and precise, but do nothing to call attention to her.

*****

Sitting off to one side of the clearing, near where the line of trees are, Kyyel rests, leaning up against the trunk of a large tree. His face though, holds a deep regret... and a heavy weight seems to rest on his shoulders. In one hand he holds a pair of silver wings. His eyes are focused on those... even as he turns the pin over several times...

She seems to slip out of nowhere, really, a slim figure of silver and shadow that moves without sound or detection unless she wishes it. This isolated place was the only place Jessalyn could find now to keep away from the "companion" who had brought here to Caspar in the first place; she was safe for the moment, and there was someone she had to speak to before everything else was resolved.

"Hello, Kyyel," she speaks from behind the tree he's leaning against it, her palm resting against the rough bark on its surface. The shadows cast by the tall branches serve to keep her relatively hidden.

Lifting his head up quickly in surprise at the greeting, Kyyel turns about quickly, his eyes wide for a moment until he sees who it is. It is in fact... like he was not even aware of anything around him until that point. Smiling softly now, he inclines his head a bit as he views the silver-haired woman, "Hello, Jessalyn..." taking one last look at the silver wings, he slips them into his pocket almost unconsciously, "I'm sorry I didn't say anything to you when I left yesterday... I didn't want to interrupt you..." his face takes on a look of curiousity, "How are you doing?" With a casual shrug, Jessalyn dismisses the issue, not wanting to think too hard on what had transpired. Her voice is quiet and secretive when she speaks, as if the trees themselves were spies who might overhear something important. "It's nothing," she assures him, stepping forward as her fingertips drag along the trunk of the tree, her features hidden by a swath of silvery hair that falls across her eyes. "I'm just sorry I made such a fool of myself." Of course that didn't begin to describe her shame, but Kyyel wasn't the one to unload that burden upon.

Smiling weakly, Jessa slips her hands down into her pockets and narrows her eyes. "I didn't mean to drag you into this mess."

Shaking his head once, Kyyel smiles warmly, waving a hand slightly, "No... it's alright..." he chuckles faintly, though there's little in the way of joy in the action, "I would have helped anyway, even if I had known the extent of it. So... where will you go from here, Jessalyn?" he tilts his head to one side, a question shining in his eyes. "By the way... i want you to know, that my offer still stands. If I can help, I want to."

"I don't know," the woman replies, a bit stiffly. Though her burden has been somewhat eased by the appearance of the Jedi Master, there are still too many questions, too much turmoil for her to see any path clearly before her now. "I appreciate your offer, though. It's very kind of you. I may yet take you up on it."

Jessalyn tries on a smile, but it feels very awkward, using muscles that have been neglected for some time. Perhaps it can hide some of the shame she feels at having treated him so harshly. "I seem to be without transportation these days."

As he watches her smile, Kyyel's own widens, and he bows his head once, "Hmm... well that could be a problem..." he glances up towards the sky, and leans back up against the tree, speaking softly, "I have a ship of my own... pretty fast in real and hyperspace. She's not much... but with that, I can take you wherever you need to go..." as he speaks... his smile fades a bit, and he slowly turns his eyes back to the forest floor for a moment, before looking back towards her, kindness shining in his eyes, "I'd be happy to accomodate you."

Clenching her hands into fists inside her pockets, Jessalyn's smile fades of its own accord, and she tips up her head to look up between the branches of the broad tree above them. "Hopefully, that won't be necessary," she says bluntly. "Besides that, I'm not even sure where it is I need to go."

A weary chuckle bubbles up from her throat. "I suppose when you met me you didn't figure that my problems were quite of this nature. I wasn't going to tell you, really, until you... quoted part of the Jedi Code at me. Did you say that... it was your mother who told it to you?"

Swallowing softly at Jessalyn's question, Kyyel's eyes grow that questioning look again, even as he nods his head once, "Yeah... my mother told me that... just a few days before she passed away..." shaking his head once, he looks down, "I never knew what it meant... or what it implied...." turning his head back up, Kyyel shakes his head again, "I have so many questions now... and I don't even know where to begin with them," he smiles faintly, then shrugs his shoulders. A hurtful knot forms in her chest as Jessalyn hears him, the exchange reminding her too much of her former Teacherly status, and she chafes against the urge to answer some of those questions for this man. Especially considering her own battle against the very dictate he had spoken of. -There is no emotion, there is peace.- Well, Jessalyn was feeling an awful lot of emotion, and peace was something that had become completely foreign to her. Was she a Jedi for feeling as much as she felt? For loving, for feeling passion? Those were the questions she and Orson could never reconcile. Maybe neither one of them were strong enough. Or had her weakness dragged him down with her?

"I wish I could answer them for you, Kyyel," she says sincerely, "but if you're looking for answers about the Jedi... I don't trust myself to give them to you."

Glancing up again to her, Kyyel's lips form a warm smile, and he shakes his head once, "If anything Jessalyn... you're the only one who I could really ask about them... and I trust you," he leans up against the tree more, and then glances back up to the sky again, a look of rememberance shining in his eyes as he views the beginning of the appearance of stars in Caspar's sky. His gray eyes shine thoughtfully as he turns back to face Jessalyn, regarding her with the same kindness and warmth he had on their first meeting, "Who knows... maybe I could help you get some of that trust back?"

Despite his trying to reassure her, the words only make Jessalyn shake her head and sigh with weariness. She leans a shoulder against the tree trunk, eyes glistening in the dim starlight, the only sound for a long moment the rustling of trees and her soft inhalation of breath. "There are others with better answers than I can give you. I'm afraid my career as a Jedi Teacher is over before it's even really begun," she says with wry bitterness. Another long silence spans between them. Finally, she urges him, leaning forward on the balls of her feet:

"Don't trust me, Kyyel. You would be a fool to do so."

Taking in her words with a slow nod, Kyyel leans forward as well, meeting her gaze with his own. His face grows soft... thoughtful... even as he truly does listen to her words. After a bit of time, he speaks again, and shakes his head once more, his words barely louder than the rustle of the leaves, "Jessalyn... if you give up on yourself... then whatever darkness came over you will only get stronger," he keeps his voice low, and then looks into her eyes, his own shining, "I don't imagine to know or understand the levels of it that you may have gotten... but I know that darkness is darkness... no matter how big, or how small. I'm now even watching it creep along the edges of this planet... and those that run this place."

He looks down for a moment, biting his lip tightly, before he turns his eyes back to meet her own, "If I didn't already trust you Jessalyn, I would have turned you into the Praetorians. But I do trust you already, even if it does make me a fool. What I saw last night... it looks like Master Skywalker trusts you as well..." he tilts his head, his eyes shining faint innocence still there, "I don't judge people by what others tell me, or by how others act around them... but I think that his opinion has to count for something in someone's book..." Grinding her teeth together, Jessalyn tears her gaze away from Kyyel's, uncomfortable now with his proximity and moving back a pace or two. He sounded so much like she must have, not so long ago. What had Simon said? She had lost her innocence. She had discovered what she was capable of, and she is faced with several branching paths that stretch out now before her: she could give in to the despair of that discovery, lose her mind and disappear from the fate of the galaxy forever; she could embrace the Light again, begin to heal, find some meaning for her life once more; or she could let the Darkness consume her, become its servant, and destroy everything that she had once treasured. It was hard to look at Kyyel's cloying innocence and not feel some disdain. She hates herself even more for her coldness. "Master Skywalker sometimes has a skewed perspective," she states quite honestly. "But that comes with being as powerful as he is. He can protect himself from just about anything, so he has no need to fear me."

"As powerful as he is too... I think he would know how to judge you properly..." Kyyel speaks softly, evenly, and warmly. He takes a step back, giving Jessalyn her room again, even as he regards her once more. Sighing heavily, Kyyel is silent for a while... even as the stars grow more distinct in the sky. When he speaks again, he holds a gentle tone to his voice still, "Look... let me take you wherever you need to go... or even off planet if that's what you'd like. After that... then if you wish, I'll find another to answer my questions," he smiles softly... looking at her with a little hope shining deep in his eyes.

The encroaching shadows swallow her up as Jessalyn shrinks back, only the shimmer of her hair visible now in the pale moonlight. "I don't know," she whispers, a tremor in her voice. "I -- I mean. If I need to... I will find you again." It was as much of a promise as she could make, and she silently prays it will be enough for him. She had so little left to give; she who had always been so open and nurturing, with such limitless tenderness and wry humor locked away now forever. Her face is solemn, almost frozen, the light glinting off her eyes in the dimness. "I must go."

All but disappearing in the moonlight, Kyyel's eyes still catch the light of both the stars and the moon, keeping him visible to you. For a moment, he's silent... yet you can almost see a smile rising to his lips again. A flash of the light's reflection in his eyes indicates a nod, "Alright... here... before you go, take this..." his hand lifts up... still barely visible in the rapidly dimming light, "You can contact me through this frequency... stay safe Jessalyn," his voice is sincere, with slight worry, but still filled with the same kindness that he has always had.