muffled misc lyrics about revival well in the distance
❚❚❚❚❚ OPEN/CLOSED LOG.
■ CHARACTERS: Obi-Wan Kenobi (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
unforced) and tba + YOU
■ DATE: DAY 50 | VARIOUS
■ WARNINGS: A vaguely lost old man wandering around being weird and contemplative, probably talk of death here and there.
■ SUMMARY: Obi-Wan has had ruder awakenings. But this one takes the cake in other ways entirely, really...
A
[He wakes up to an unfamiliar cloth ceiling far up overhead and a chill in his limbs, from a blankness so black and utterly silent that for a moment, automatically, he marvels. Ah, what a heavy sleep this was. (He's not had a dreamless sleep in a very long time.) But the wondering notion only lasts a second, before Obi-Wan realizes that despite this he...doesn't feel particularly rested at all. Horribly weary, if anything, the leaden weight of a peculiar melancholy pressing him flat to the mattress for a long moment. Obi-Wan blinks and frowns at the tent ceiling--what a bad set of mind to wake up in, indeed--and he carefully tucks the melancholy away. Well, tries to. Reaches into the Force, as he does, and finds the process to be almost like pulling aside a heavily dusted curtain tugged over a window for a very long time. ...Which is odd. And on the other side of the window....
This isn't the rover. --That wasn't a sleep--
Someone a bit more young and sprightly might have sat upright more quickly; for Obi-Wan, the intention is there, but the process ends up being a slow and ponderous affair anyhow. Melancholy still weighs in his bones, somehow, more difficult to tuck away than anticipated and stemming from a source he doesn't yet entirely understand--that aside, moving in itself turns out to be a highly involved affair, like trying to get the hang of a speeder you haven't ridden or a word you haven't written in a very long time. Even after he's upright, Obi-Wan finds himself peering at his own hands with a frown. Opening and closing a palm, the motion just slightly trembling but seamless all the same. ...Remarkable, really, how everything seems to be in--perfectly working order--
So perfect, in fact, that he ends up moving to pat down his own chest--just to be sure, still almost wondering if perhaps it had been a strange and concerning dream all along--but no. Right over the heart, a burned circle in clothing fabric that he already knows is perfectly round without even having to look down.
Hm.
It's tempting to spend a bit longer in the bed, really, the notion of moving further a suddenly strange and daunting task--every breath, every beat of heart and twitch of fingertip, it all seems terribly fragile now. Prone to break apart into nothing at any moment, as it probably should, because after all...
After all, there's no surviving a lightsaber through the heart.
But there's much to do, and much to think about, and Obi-Wan knows better. And so, silently and thoughtfully, he rises--takes stock of what he has (cloak, belt, lightsaber, all perfectly intact, the smallest blessings)--and starts towards the medtent entrance with ginger steps and an uncharacteristic paleness of demeanor. Powerfully preoccupied as he is, and still readjusting to this re-connection to the Force once more, if there is company at hand he doesn't notice it at first--and might even walk right into it on accident, really.]
B
[Being outdoors helps, somewhat. The default harsh weather of Ajna is an assault on the senses on a normal day anyhow, and the puff of icy air and crunch of snow underfoot only proves to be ever more grounding at this particular moment. Obi-Wan moves outside, and finds that he does not fall apart at the slightest breath of cold wind, and he supposes that's probably the test that matters the most.
It's intuition more than anything else that guides his steps now, more or less in the general direction of the center of camp; he probably ought to return to the rover eventually, perhaps people are worried, perhaps--time has passed that he hasn't been aware of. (What a jarring thought, that.) But before he's gotten too far Obi-Wan comes to an abrupt halt despite himself, some notion and glimpse from the corner of his eye pausing his steps. Glance falls on the silhouette of the statue bent in the distance, imposing as ever and not evidently budged an inch from its usual location. But...
Maybe he's speaking to you, passerby that you are, or maybe he's speaking to himself and nothing else in particular--it's a bit difficult to tell. But Obi-Wan frowns at the statue just the same.]
...That's different. Something's changed--hasn't it?
C
[All in all, the journey to the center of camp proves to be a rather longer process than anticipated. And though an obligation to return to his rover remains--a prospect that Obi-Wan finds hanging heavily over his head, for some reason--even now, he's reluctant to do so just yet. The walk is draining somehow, with intensity of thought and that same lingering weariness working together against him, and in the end Obi-Wan finds himself stopping by the ever-persistent campfire first anyway. The warmth is its own familiar-yet-new sensation, a pleasant reminder of other times and other places (acutely bittersweet, somehow, memories he sets aside quickly when they emerge)--sitting near in the protection of it, Obi-Wan can shrug off his cloak without cold weather planting too much of a bite, layered as his Jedi robes already are.
And so this is how he can be found: a wearily bent form sitting near the fire, a swath of rather battered brown cloth spread across his knees in his lap. He's frowning, faintly, as he lifts the center portion of the cloak and discovers he can neatly fit a thumb with room to spare through the perfect hole burned through there too. Not much right now, perhaps, but all the easier for further tearing...ah, that's going to be a problem.
His utility belt might have a lot of useful things, but a needle is not one of them.]
■ CHARACTERS: Obi-Wan Kenobi (
unforced) and tba + YOU■ DATE: DAY 50 | VARIOUS
■ WARNINGS: A vaguely lost old man wandering around being weird and contemplative, probably talk of death here and there.
■ SUMMARY: Obi-Wan has had ruder awakenings. But this one takes the cake in other ways entirely, really...
A
[He wakes up to an unfamiliar cloth ceiling far up overhead and a chill in his limbs, from a blankness so black and utterly silent that for a moment, automatically, he marvels. Ah, what a heavy sleep this was. (He's not had a dreamless sleep in a very long time.) But the wondering notion only lasts a second, before Obi-Wan realizes that despite this he...doesn't feel particularly rested at all. Horribly weary, if anything, the leaden weight of a peculiar melancholy pressing him flat to the mattress for a long moment. Obi-Wan blinks and frowns at the tent ceiling--what a bad set of mind to wake up in, indeed--and he carefully tucks the melancholy away. Well, tries to. Reaches into the Force, as he does, and finds the process to be almost like pulling aside a heavily dusted curtain tugged over a window for a very long time. ...Which is odd. And on the other side of the window....
This isn't the rover. --That wasn't a sleep--
Someone a bit more young and sprightly might have sat upright more quickly; for Obi-Wan, the intention is there, but the process ends up being a slow and ponderous affair anyhow. Melancholy still weighs in his bones, somehow, more difficult to tuck away than anticipated and stemming from a source he doesn't yet entirely understand--that aside, moving in itself turns out to be a highly involved affair, like trying to get the hang of a speeder you haven't ridden or a word you haven't written in a very long time. Even after he's upright, Obi-Wan finds himself peering at his own hands with a frown. Opening and closing a palm, the motion just slightly trembling but seamless all the same. ...Remarkable, really, how everything seems to be in--perfectly working order--
So perfect, in fact, that he ends up moving to pat down his own chest--just to be sure, still almost wondering if perhaps it had been a strange and concerning dream all along--but no. Right over the heart, a burned circle in clothing fabric that he already knows is perfectly round without even having to look down.
Hm.
It's tempting to spend a bit longer in the bed, really, the notion of moving further a suddenly strange and daunting task--every breath, every beat of heart and twitch of fingertip, it all seems terribly fragile now. Prone to break apart into nothing at any moment, as it probably should, because after all...
After all, there's no surviving a lightsaber through the heart.
But there's much to do, and much to think about, and Obi-Wan knows better. And so, silently and thoughtfully, he rises--takes stock of what he has (cloak, belt, lightsaber, all perfectly intact, the smallest blessings)--and starts towards the medtent entrance with ginger steps and an uncharacteristic paleness of demeanor. Powerfully preoccupied as he is, and still readjusting to this re-connection to the Force once more, if there is company at hand he doesn't notice it at first--and might even walk right into it on accident, really.]
B
[Being outdoors helps, somewhat. The default harsh weather of Ajna is an assault on the senses on a normal day anyhow, and the puff of icy air and crunch of snow underfoot only proves to be ever more grounding at this particular moment. Obi-Wan moves outside, and finds that he does not fall apart at the slightest breath of cold wind, and he supposes that's probably the test that matters the most.
It's intuition more than anything else that guides his steps now, more or less in the general direction of the center of camp; he probably ought to return to the rover eventually, perhaps people are worried, perhaps--time has passed that he hasn't been aware of. (What a jarring thought, that.) But before he's gotten too far Obi-Wan comes to an abrupt halt despite himself, some notion and glimpse from the corner of his eye pausing his steps. Glance falls on the silhouette of the statue bent in the distance, imposing as ever and not evidently budged an inch from its usual location. But...
Maybe he's speaking to you, passerby that you are, or maybe he's speaking to himself and nothing else in particular--it's a bit difficult to tell. But Obi-Wan frowns at the statue just the same.]
...That's different. Something's changed--hasn't it?
C
[All in all, the journey to the center of camp proves to be a rather longer process than anticipated. And though an obligation to return to his rover remains--a prospect that Obi-Wan finds hanging heavily over his head, for some reason--even now, he's reluctant to do so just yet. The walk is draining somehow, with intensity of thought and that same lingering weariness working together against him, and in the end Obi-Wan finds himself stopping by the ever-persistent campfire first anyway. The warmth is its own familiar-yet-new sensation, a pleasant reminder of other times and other places (acutely bittersweet, somehow, memories he sets aside quickly when they emerge)--sitting near in the protection of it, Obi-Wan can shrug off his cloak without cold weather planting too much of a bite, layered as his Jedi robes already are.
And so this is how he can be found: a wearily bent form sitting near the fire, a swath of rather battered brown cloth spread across his knees in his lap. He's frowning, faintly, as he lifts the center portion of the cloak and discovers he can neatly fit a thumb with room to spare through the perfect hole burned through there too. Not much right now, perhaps, but all the easier for further tearing...ah, that's going to be a problem.
His utility belt might have a lot of useful things, but a needle is not one of them.]