Owner	Pose
Athena	This morning, the streets of the Holy City are alive. With music, food, and a heterogeneous mix of vendors selling relics, books, jewelry, and other religious knick knacks. And in the Square of Supplicants, various members of religious sects host rallies or demonstrations of their Force related abilities, or street preach. Indeed, Jedha is bustling, for today is the very first day of the Festival of Balance, a week long event celebrating the diversity and variety of Force religious sects.
Imoen	After setting out to explore the Pilgrim Moon on her own, Imoen wandered through the streets and admired the numerous variety of attractions. She geeked over the relics and flipped through the physical books - such a tactile luxury compared to the ubiquitous holovids! - but there was a certain melancholy casting a shadow across her day. Blessed with the honor and experience of a world beyond the chaos on Coruscant, during a Festival and convocation of force-sensitives no less, she couldn't help but wear the weight of her regret on her shoulders. She lost her lightsaber. It helped to hear her Master's assurances and kindnesses, but half a lifetime surrounded by people cherishing their sabers on a spiritual level made its loss all the more impactful. So, she enjoyed the Festival, but perhaps not on the level of a carefree Padawan as she might otherwise have done.     Garbed in a khaki tabard split down the front over a white tunic - a brown obi wrapped around both at the waist - black leggings, wrap-around knee-high brown boots, and a small red handbag cross-strapped against her opposite hip, she looks similar to other Jedi, though with her own personal fashion touches. Besides her Padawan braid with its colored beads, she's kept her mid-back hair free in mostly-consistent subtle waves of brown intermingled by hints of pure white, though static might oppose the flow and locks might get in the way of her blue-eyed gaze.     Stopping by a vendor of some kind of roasted nuts, she swapped a few credit chips from her bag to earn a small container of the snack, and thanked the shopkeep. After a brief greeting and wan smile, she ventures, "do you know much about where the different Orders are situated? It's been suggested to me that I should meet the Matukai, or mayhaps the Sorcers of Tund? I have also heard there might be Fallanassi here somewhere?"
Athena	The shopkeeper raises a brow at Imoen. "Uh..." he says, and doesn't finish his sentence. Instead, his gaze shifts to the center of the square, where two Force adjuncts are sparring. Not with sabers, or wan shens, or playing hit or miss with training lightbows, but... fire? Or so it would seem. The vibrant energy surrounding the adjuncts burns hot, searing the air around them. Imoen will be able to feel the heatwave from where she stands.. And then suddenly, the plumes of orange smoke undulate and then convalesce to form fantastical looking creatures that charge one another, crashing together terrifically and becoming gaseous swirls of red smoke and flame upon impact. It is... marvelous to watch.
Imoen	Imoen doesn't judge the shopkeeper one bit for failing to finish his thought, as she soon experiences the same sensation. She almost immediately forgets their conversation, holding onto her small wax-paper bag of roasted nuts as fire burns hot and bright nearby. She turns to stare in awestruck fascination at the display, briefly leaning back as if away from the dangerous flames. Right before her very eyes, she draws in a sharp breath to view the fire metamorphose into undulating creatures, and her gaze reflects the enchanting imagery with fully-widened lids. "Woah."     Momentarily stunned, she soon searches for the Force adjuncts, trying to suss them out from the smoke and fire, hopeful to clue herself in on their identities or affiliations. What sort of Order trains these conjurers?
Athena	Not only are they putting on an incredible show of feats, but their robes are flowy and hard to miss in a crowd. Bright red, with chrome pauldrons and boots that Imoen can't look at for too long without being blinded because they're so reflective. And then there's the facepaint. Each adjunct has their own distinct geometric pattern, but the paint is white, and looks stark against their skin in the sunlight. The taller of the two adjuncts is advancing on the other, calling upon the Force with closed eyes, making his scarlet smoke dragon taller, wider, and more fearsome with each measured step he takes.
Imoen	Enchanted by the acrobatic and flowy event, Imoen can barely move from her spot by the shopkeeper lest she lose out on a single moment in memory. The robes whisk and flow, intermingling with the flash of chrome and the sharp heat of flame. She tries to catch sight and examine the unusual patterns of white on their faces, and overall stands in utterly mesmerized delight. She reaches out with the Force, if only to better connect with and understand the tides and currents, the eddies of their existence dancing among smoke and fire. It's dynamic, fascinating and the most impressive thing she's witnessed since arriving on the Kyber Heart.
Athena	Finally, the taller Force adjunct's billowing smoke creature overwhelms his opponent's, and the losing adjunct retreats, extinguishing his flames with the simple gesture of closing his fist. He bows politely to the victor, who reciprocates the gestures and also extinguishes the energy and smoke surrounding him with a simple wave of his hand. Then the two of them part ways, but the taller one is on a trajectory to cross paths with Imoen...
Imoen	When the fight appears to be over, ended by a dramatic closing of fist, Imoen slides the wax-paper bag of roasted nuts down to her pinkie and claps delightedly. She's grinning from ear to ear, pronounced canines bright against the light, and chuckling enthusiastically. Upon realizing the champion was heading in her general direction, her face heats and she hurries to make their paths intersect intentionally. Offering the tall stranger a respectful bow, she smiles up to give a better once-over now that they're closer in proximity. "That was an incredible act, Master J-...uhh...Mister. I did not realize such a thing was even possible. Lightning, I have heard about. But fire..."
Athena	The tall Force adjunct seems slightly startled when Imoen rushes over in an attempt to congratulate him and address him correctly (which she fails at, rather spectacularly). But he grins broadly at her and laughs when she stumbles over her words. His laugh is pleasant and charming, and can be likened to the sound of glass bells bumping into one another gently. Imoen might find herself quaking in her boots a little - he's a very handsome and tall Arkanian, around Varric's age, who exudes an immense amount of confidence and self assuredness. "Tomi. My name is Akashaya Tomi. You may call me Master Tomi, but whom do I have the pleasure of meeting on this fine day?"
Imoen	Continuing to smile up at the Arkanian, Imoen can't help but sense the confidence exuding from the stranger. It's maybe a little intimidating, but also thrilling and interesting. Ears burning slightly, she tries to hide her uncertainty behind a brush of fingers to pull back stray locks around one sun-browned ear. "Imoen. People call me Imoen." She bows again, though this time more casually, "it's an honor to meet you, Master Tomi. There is clearly much I do not know about your Order. The uhh...Matukai?" Blue eyes glance up hopefully, but she already regrets guessing for the cringe it sends through her. "That must have taken a significant amount of practice indeed to master. I doubt I would ever have the talent for it..." She glances at him side-eye, sighing humbly.
Athena	He chuckles softly. "Imoen? But you must have a title, you are Jedi, yes? A Knight, perhaps?" His grin widens. "I am a Sorcerer of Tund," he says, "and a member of the Convocation of the Force. It's wonderful to meet you, Imoen. I do hope you're enjoying the Festival of Balance." He gestures for her to walk with him, that charming smile of his lingering. "What brings you here, to Jedha?"
Imoen	"Oh." Imoen remembers herself. "Yes. Err, I mean, no. I am merely a Padawan learner. But one day, I hope to understand the Force as well as a Jedi Knight. My Master is teaching me much, but I have much and more to understand, and well...mistakes to reconcile." She winces at that final admission, though she nods her head, "the Convocation is an amazing thing. I've mostly kept to Coruscant and the main Temple ever since I was brought on, so it's a great honor to travel here during such a momentous occassion as the Festival. There are so many things to do, places to go, and people to meet, that it dares to make one's head spin."     Pleasantly surprised by the invitation to walk together, she eagerly joins him, doing her best to meet his longer strides. "My Master encouraged me to join him here, because he thought it would be an important experience, and I think he has other work to attend to. We...also plan to visit the kyber mines, as I need to find a new crystal..." She looks down sheepishly at that, but then endeavors to turn the tables on her new acquaintance. "And you? It can't be all to show off in front of other Orders?"
Athena	Tomi smiles kindly at her. "Mistakes are necessary for learning, and serve as a catalyst for betterment, and eventually, perfection." As if to demonstrate what he means, a flame forms in the palm of his hand. It then reshapes itself to resemble a lotus before vanishing with a puff of orange smoke. "I'm glad to have met you, Padawan Imoen. I'm certain you'll make a great Jedi Master someday." Tomi laughs again. "Well on occasion, yes. But my duties as a member of the Convocation keep me busy, naturally. The Convocation of the Force is the council that planned and put together the Festival of Balance, and I myself was responsible for overseeing the invitation of many Force adjuncts and bringing relics from far away to here on Jedha so they could be accurately represented. I do hope it's all been to your taste, as it was a great deal of work to host this festival." "I could show you around, if you don't mind me doing so."
Imoen	Imoen appreciates the sentiment about mistakes, nodding her head agreeably, "thank you, Master Tomi. Not everyone would think it so, or at least it sometimes seems that way. Certainly, most Padawans have not overlooked their responsibility to their lightsabers as I have..." She stops as Tomi produces a ball of flame in his hand, staring at it with widened eyes. Almost like before, she's transfixed, "that's beautiful. I wish I knew how to do something like that." She only continues when he does, blushing at the confidence in his expectations of her. "I hope so too..."     "It's absolutely to my taste. I apologize if it doesn't seem so. I've just been dealing with my loss. You must understand. I have held onto it as a memento of my elevation, and it's like losing a friend, or even a part of myself." She grins at the further invitation, more than pleased to hear it. "I would like that, if it is not too great a sacrifice. I know you have your duties to keep you busy..." Glancing over at the Arkanian, she notes, "if you oversaw so much of organizing this Festival, then perhaps you are familiar with my Master Varric Sov?"
Athena	"Don't feel bad," Tomi says warmly. "Next time you'll know to do better. And like I said before, mistakes are necessary." He looks amused. "Why if you wish to learn, you need only ask," he says to her. "Have a little faith in yourself. It will go far, I promise. I speak from experience." "I understand," he says kindly. "And thank you. I worked very hard to make this festival all that it is." "I -am- a very busy man, but for you, I shall make an exception. And no. I dont think I've met him. Master Volk speaks of him on occasion, but we haven't been introduced."
Imoen	Arching a skeptical brow, Imoen's lips quirk in an unexpecting grin, "indeed? Would you teach me to conjure a flame in my hand, Master Tomi? I'm sure it would take significant study to do anything like you or the other Sorcerer, but just being able to create something like that fiery lotus blossom would be appealing to me." She nods again in appreciation for the grand tour by way of a Sorcerer of Tund, following along at his side. "Might you introduce me to your Order? Or even others among the Convocation? I suspect my Master would wish me to better understand the different cultures and perspectives on the Force." She smiles warmly, thinking of Varric. "He's kind, wise, patient, and probably a better Jedi than I'll ever be. My parents joined the Cosmic Force shortly before I ended up in the Temple, and so...I guess, in some ways, he's guided me where they no longer could." She runs a hand over the back of her head, embarrassed to say that aloud.
Athena	Tomi smiles. "We can start small," he says, conjuring another small flame in his open palm and then levitating it over to her. "Hold out your hand just like mine," he says, "and try to maintain it." "Of course, but not today. Today, you shall see the Festival for all that it's worth." "Don't be embarrassed to speak of these things, Imoen. I do not judge."
Imoen	Imoen quickly goes on the defensive when a flame comes shooting over to her, no matter how small or slow in its motions. Her shoulders lift and her eyes widen, lifting her hands as if to deflect the ball of energy. It's only after his advice does she slowly calm, and her hands drop to a ninety degree angle with her body. Chewing on her lower lip to concentrate, she extends her palms to the floating orb. Sending herself into the Force, she tries to latch on to the same control and efficiency which Tomi displays. The ball of flame moves slightly, and then like a soap bubble, it winks out of existence.     Face warming at the failure, she says, "I've never been talented with the Force...suppose I should have anticipated that." She looks up at the Arkanian, "how do you keep from destabilizing? It's so flighty and energetic, just keeping it from burning me is a challenge."
Athena	Tomi nods. "Focus yourself," he says, "and focus on the Force, just the Force, nothing else. Come now, that wasn't so bad. You can try again," he says, "this time, close your eyes and try not to think of anything else. I'll pass the flame to you. You won't be able to see it, but rest assured that you'll feel it." He then produces yet another flame, and slowly but surely moves it towards Imoen.
Imoen	Imoen nods her head, glancing from the Arkanian to her hands, and trying the centering exercises Varric or some of the Temple Masters suggested. She blocks out the cacaphony of sounds, scents, and thoughts clouding her mind, pouring all of her attention into that singular moment in time. With her hands still out, she shakily transfers the ball of flame to hover inches above her palms - as soon as Tomi conjures it. It stays steady, doesn't wink out, and she grits her teeth to maintain the fire. It trembles like a globe of yellow-orange gelatin, on the very cusp of falling apart again, but she strains to keep it stable.     From luck or otherwise, it stays for full minutes, until she can concentrate no longer, and the sphere evaporates in a sharp instant of smoke. She peers up at the Sorcerer with a broad grin. "I did it. I was so certain it would take me many more attempts, but I managed to hold onto it. It's as though the fire was made of some kind of slippery soap with a hundred little fractures trying to separate it apart, but it didn't go out!" It eventually did, sure, but that was after holding it steady for quite a while from her perspective. "Thank you, Master Tomi. I shall have to practice this some more, when you're not showing me around."
Athena	Tomi's smile widens. "Why, Imoen, you are a remarkable spirit. Intelligent, determined, skilled in the Force -- I don't see what else Varric could ask for in a Padawan. You speak too humbly of yourself." "Indeed. And if you feel at all inclined to ask for more advice or support. I can avail myself." He hands a small datachip with his personal frequency on it to her. Then he starts to walk again. "Come now. The rest of the Festival awaits..." The young Tund adept shows Imoen around, pointing out Force adjuncts who have traveled from afar, as well as pointing out locations of interest like the First Spire, the Dome of Deliverance, and Blessing Way. He gives her a brief history on each building, and Imoen will find him utterly charming and an irresistibly rapturous storyteller. There is naught to dislike about him, and before long, she'll discover they've spent the last four hours together, exploring Jedha...
Imoen	Imoen once again feels her face warm to the compliments sent her way, a bit unsure how best to respond. She tugs gently on a gathered handful of her hair, smiling shyly. "Thank you, Master Tomi. I..." She chuckles self-consciously, then smiles, "thanks..." She gladly takes the datachip, slipping it into her handbag. "I hope you're prepared for what's to come from offering that. My teachers have mentioned I'm 'an excellent test in patience by way of my boundless curiosity.' There seems an endless supply of knowledge to glean from a place like Jedha, bursting at the seams with different Force Traditions."     She takes to the tour with aplomb, proving her infinite pool of questions with every new point of interest or site of spiritual enlightenment. The fact that he so kindly answers her questions in such a grand and compelling manner only improves her view of the Arkanian. Multiple times throughout their journey, she suggests directly meeting the other Force Adjuncts, hopeful for introduction and firsthand knowledge. She can hardly believe it when an entire four hours has gone by, wandering the Pilgrim Moon and absorbing all the information so freely provided.
Athena	"Oh believe me," he says sweetly, "I am more than prepared. I look forward to it, in fact." Tomi tells her that she should make a list of Force adjunct groups she'd like to intermingle with, and he'll personally arrange for her to meet with their elders and attend their chapel services. He also answers all of her questions patiently, and fully, without complaining. He seems to enjoy her company greatly, and on multiple occasions, praises her curiosity. At some point, he even buys her a small amulet, purported to help maintain focus and calm while touching the Force. She may attempt to ask him how much it was, but he'll kindly and humbly brush off the inquiry off, telling her that if it helped her focus even just a little, the amount which it cost him was negligible. By the end of the day, they find themselves stopping at a quaint little restaurant near the outskirts of town, enjoying a meal of hot noodle soup together as the sun sets. "Did you enjoy your first day here on Jedha?" he asks, pouring her a cup of tea. And Imoen might be inclined to answer vigorously in the affirmative, but a sudden commotion near the back of the restaurant will distract both of them. "Help!" A lanky Pantoran woman cries out, "My husband.. he's.. he's collapsed...I don't know what's wrong with him..." Tears flood her eyes, and she covers her mouth. Tomi frowns and gets up immediately, hurrying to the man's side and examining him. "He seems to have gone into cardiac arrest," he says, "are there any doctors in here??" But his answer is met with silence.
Imoen	Imoen commits to putting together a list for places and people to meet, continuing to remain grateful to the generous Sorcerer of Tund. Specifically, she wishes to encounter any Orders which suggest abilities related to foresight, as she mentions, "I sometimes have these odd visions, both of the future and the past, and I would like to explore them further. One day, I hope to better guide myself through those visions, and do something positive because of them."     She doesn't so much ask Tomi about the price of the amulet, but she certainly makes an effort to resist the bauble. The suggestion that it might help her focus better finally succeeds in surrendering her to the gift, and once it's over her neck, she runs a thumb across its surface in admiration. Clearly, it's now a cherished souvenir of the trip, and she'll likely continue to wear it at least for the remaining duration of her stay on Jedha.     The hot noodle soup and tea were a sweet, delicious, and appreciated sentiment. She indeed prepares to spill all her gratitude over the day, when there's a cry for help and a sudden rush of sorrow flooding the Force. Standing up with Tomi, she kneels at the Pantoran's side, setting a gentle hand on his shoulder. Her features contort with worry, and she elicits a quiet keening sound in her throat. She looks over at the Sorcerer of Tund, opening and closing her mouth, anxious and unsure what to do. "I-I..." There's stress and terror in her voice, "I was taught some basic first aid, and the concept of healing through the Force, but I don't know what to do!" She looks over at the wife, then back to Tomi, stricken-faced. "I'm going to go find a doctor!" She begins to rise, intent on doing exactly that.
Athena	"It's too late!" Someone in the crowd cries out, sounding equally distressed. "They'll never make it here in time..." But then, Tomi does something entirely.. unexpected. He extends his palm forward gently, and a small, pea sized cracking ball of electricity forms above his hand. Force lightning... it is forbidden. A dark side technique. But... Tomi sends the tiny scarlet ball of energy into the inert Pantoran man's chest. At first, nothing happens, but then, the blue skinned male Pantoran groans, and his eyelids flutter open. There is a collective gasps from the crowd. "... amazing..." someone near Imoen mutters, "... how miraculous..."
Imoen	Imoen shakes her head, ignoring the panicked pessimism. She can't just stand there and do nothing. If she can find someone quickly enough, they can get here and-     Something...distorts in the Force. She turns to see Tomi pointing at the husband, and even her own concerns - was he planning to conjure fire? - paled in comparison to the reality. He did not make fire, but lightning. Force lightning. She hesitates, unsure whether she should attempt to stop this permutation of the Force. She looks down in surprise when the balls of electricity reach the Pantoran and jolt him back to consciousness. There's a strange expression on her face, somewhere between relief and heartache. Ignoring the gasps of amazement in the crowd, she looks up to the Arkanian and simply says, "Master Tomi..." Those two words are enough to convey a panoply of emotions. Surprise, sorrow, suspicion, regret, hope. She feels unmoored from the day, suddenly adrift in her confusion and uneasy disquiet. She takes a small step back from the Sorcerer of Tund.
Athena	The Pantoran woman looks relieved. "Thank you," she whispers in shocked gratitude to Tomi, "thank you..." Then she and a couple others help her husband to his feet and over to a couch where he can rest while someone else calls a medevac. The Arkanian turns to face Imoen. He smiles kindly at her, and she'll be able to sense his intent in the Force is genuine. He had not meant ill, and in the end, he had saved the Pantoran man. In fact, if he had not intervened in the way he had, the man could very well be dead by now. "Oh Imoen," he says in that charming manner, "tell me, what would you have done, if you were me...?"
Imoen	As the wife and others assist the Pantoran to rise and transfer him to a couch, Imoen briefly seems like she planned to help. Seeing that they have things under control though, she returns her full attention to the Sorcerer of Tund. She senses the sincerity and honesty of the man through the Force, but all her teachings are blaring at her mind that she's standing before someone that dabbles in the dark side, if not already lost to it entirely.     Pursing her lips, she stares at Tomi, struggling to articulate a cogent response. Instead, with some regret and a pensive knit to her brow, she states, "I need to meditate on this. This goes contrary to all that I know." She opens and closes her mouth, then tilts her head in a small nod, "thank you for showing me around the Festival." She feels a pressure in her chest. Betrayal? Heartbreak? Loss? "I'll..." She drags in a deep breath, then lets it out slowly. "I need time to think. I'm sorry."
Athena	"I know," he says softly, his tone full of compassion and understanding. "But you must understand -- there is no technique inherently dark side, or light side. What matters, is intent." He glances briefly over at the Pantoran woman and her husband, who are weeping with relief. "It's alright. I encourage you to discover the truth of all of this yourself, Imoen. Do not simply believe everything your Master or the Order says without question. Anyone is capable of a lie, even if they mean no deception." "You must not tell anyone what you saw today," he says, "I could be stripped of my position as a member of the Convocation and exiled from the Sorcerers of Tund."
Imoen	The idea of intent only perplexes Imoen further, though she mimics the Arkanian's glance back to the relieved wife and the surviving husband. She glances down at her feet, trying to make sense of this revelation, and what it might mean to both herself and the Force in general. Intent? But the technique is forbidden. Surely it's forbidden for a reason? She shakes her head, struggling with this new information - information not described in her previous lessons.     The bid for her to keep this interaction quiet goes without any particular commitment. Instead, in answer, she bows her head again. "Thank you for your understanding and patience, Master Tomi." Then, she's slowly exiting the little out-of-the-way restaurant, intent on departing and coming to terms with this totally unanticipated development. Can a Jedi practice a forbidden technique and still follow the light? Can she?