[ castle thorne boasts beautiful land and magnificent architecture, courtly protocols and politics — and above it all, academic magic. she's drawn to the explosions of light coming from the castle's practice room, not anywhere near annoyed by the bursts of failed light shield spells, but a little nostalgic instead as she looks on. and in her mind, she imagines force-adepts training with their masters long ago on some distant core world, trying out their fledgling powers; telekinesis, saber dueling. children, most likely — young and bright and eager, all of the stars of the galaxy shining in their eyes. it's a romanticized version of what was more likely something not so very organized and effectual, and yet there persists a yearning etched on her expression that nearly anyone nearby would be able to see.

elsewhere in the castle, she discovers an octopus in one of the bathrooms sloshing about in a half-full tub, and she tries in vain to capture it but it's a slippery little devil. it's able to squeeze itself into cracks and crevices, eluding her; the tracking orb allows for detection but that's about the extent of it. after an extended amount of time, rey sits down exhaustedly on the tile floor of one of the bathrooms, her clothes soaked head-to-toe in bathwater and no cephalopod in sight.

...she looks up at the person hovering in the periphery of the doorway, beseechingly. ]

What's bait, for an octopus?

[ cadens is hot and dry, the climate familiar and not unlike jakku. the mandate of wearing military garb leaves something to be desired, but she can overlook any discomfort for the moment in favor of learning what's been happening in this place, the devastation of libertas notwithstanding. the memorial to the fallen draws her attention and she lingers in the garden, walking slowly and somberly among the gravestones.

there are lots of public demonstrations of training of various sorts going on, but it's no wonder that she's drawn to the group gathered to witness a new magic engraving tool. she watches in open-mouthed shock as the researcher demonstrates how the laser tool cuts through solid marble, and then when there's a lull in the chatter, she steps up to the front of the group of volunteers to deliver a stern warning: ]

This isn't an artist's tool, this is a weapon, and it should be revered as one — not as a plaything to fashion sculptures with.

[ the calm serenity of this place is probably getting to her, but rey is perfectly content giving a bird bath. she holds one of the little juveniles in her hands, rinsing him under a fountain to remove the caked mud and dirt from his feathers. he's whirring and chirping as she does, and when she feels the reverberations coming from his little body as he tries to sing, rey laughs softly as she glances up at the person nearest her. ]

— So chatty, isn't he?

[ elsewhere, she finds herself contemplating the altar on which rests the ashes of the executed council member, josselyn creed. none of the solvunn locals seem keen on answering her questions about the infractions the councilwoman had committed, nor on whether her execution was justified, so she's resigned to remain in the dark about it. but upon approach by another, rey turns to ask thoughtfully: ]

...Do you believe people have the capability to change?

[ feel free to set up a scenario of your choice; alternately, hmu @ spinebarrel for plotting! ]