[open]

[letoldthingsdie]

WHO: Kylo Ren and YOU
WHAT: Day to day life; includes some training in the gallows, exploring Kirkwall and such
WHEN: Throughout the remainder of April/Cloudreach 9:44
WHERE: Gallows, Kirkwall, etc
NOTES: Nothing of note but I'll update if that changes

Gallows

With his lightsaber in hand, Kylo can be found training rigorously in various forms. He's careful to practice at a distance from anyone else, should they get too close. Starting his training, feet planted firmly and hand holding his weapon out as if to point it at an unseen target, he swings and swirls the lightsaber in his hands in fluid motions. Each time he avoids hitting the dummy directly, occasionally stopping his blade on either side of the target. The last thing he wanted to do every time he trained was to break a training dummy.

He focuses on more than just his blade work, however, practicing his breathing, the bend of his knees as he strikes, and keeping his body a firm immovable object against his opponent. Eventually he takes a break, brushing his messy shock of black hair from his eyes and shrugging his shoulders, the glowing red light withdrawn into the hilt once more.

During his point of resting, he stretches his arms, reaching down to his toes or crossing them one over the other to loosen each muscle. The rigors of training gave him something to channel his energy into, finding focus in his thoughts through the effort he expends with his blade.

Kirkwall

Having washed the sweat and grime from training away, Kylo can be found exploring the markets and other points of interest within Kirkwall. Lowtown was bustling with life as he browsed the Market District, winding streets drawing his attention now and again as he went from shop to shop. It was far from home, but it was starting to feel as such once the routine had set in.

Stopping at a food stall, Kylo turns over a piece of fruit with a careful gaze as he examines it for any flaws. Eventually he would make his way towards the the next shop, stopping to see the wares that Lowtown had to offer.

Wildcard

[ooc: Just hit me up on my journal or pm me at wishuponthenightskies if you want to come up with a different prompt for us to do!]

Comments

[hello_there]

For just a moment, a single, shining, beautiful moment, Obi-Wan thrills to the fight. He forgets that it's adverserial, that it's anything but the joy of learning through example. The Force ebbes and flows around them, like a dance, like a conversation, and when Ben pushes at him with the Force, he grins in response. The boy was smart, and already he's picking up the basics, despite his lack of refinement-- a promising turn, towards moving with and around the problem, rather than bulling straight through.

He looks up at the overhand strike, and meets eyes that he'd last seen in another's-- in the weary, desperate gasps of Padme Amidala. The effect was a blast of ice-water, drowning that warm, joyous emotion dead.

Obi-Wan pivots, feet shifting, rotating again, and as he had done in their first fight, allowing himself to be pushed, pulling with the Force in turn, controlling the motion of them both by extension. His blade, magnetic field strengthened at the beginning is now brought around in a vicious, viper-quick strike, tagging Ben's sword-arm in what would have been a crippling blow. With the safety precautions in effect, it was merely a shock that would leave that arm unpleasantly numb and unresponsive for some minutes. That too is a Jedi philosophy: to speak before fighting, to defend before attacking, to disarm before killing, and to take lives only when all hope was lost.

Obi-Wan steps back, taking deep, slow breaths, deliberately slowing his heart. He thumbs his lightsaber off and waits for Ben to retrieve his own weapon before speaking.

"That's... That's enough, for now," He says, distracted, in-turned and thinking. Ben Solo. Kylo Ren. Luke Skywalker. Anakin. Anakin, "Ataru was Anakin's specialty."

He's said it before really meaning to, and it's low enough and quiet that, for a moment, Obi-Wan can only wince at the memory of pain, and pass a hand over his eyes with a sigh.

[letoldthingsdie]

He'd felt warmth extending through his finger tips, a smile gracing his own features as he and Obi-wan had begun to finally get into the thick of it. The joy is brief, however, as something about Obi-wan shifts and before he knows it the fight is done. He winces, rubbing his arm with his free hand, his lightsaber disabled when Obi-Wan's does.

His own breathes are heaving, his hands shaking slightly as he deposits his weapon back to his belt.

"Ah- my grandfather's...?" His eyes widen, curiosity overtaking him at just the mention of him. He had known Obi-wan had taught him, had been felled by his blade in the end. Somehow no one had every talked of his grandfather to him beyond what he had done in his life as Darth Vader. It was because of that, feeling that he himself was the villain, that he had latched onto him so hard. Now he was talking to someone who had truly known him, before Darth Vader and before his uncle had brought him back to the light. Obi-wan had seen him in his descent.

"You wanted to teach me this because of him?" Maybe not entirely because of him, but it did something - made his chest hurt - to think that the old Master had wanted to show him the parts of his grandfather that he had been denied. "No one ever talked of him. Still no one talks of him. My mother, she- I didn't even know who he was to me until it was too late."

His fists clenched, remembering that moment of their confrontation, the feelings of love and longing she'd had for him to come back to her after they had been separated for so long. He bites his lip, taking a deep breath to steady his thoughts. His mother might think she wants him back but surely things would be as they had always been. He was always a monster.

Just like his grandfather.

[hello_there]

"I--" Obi-Wan stares at Ben, stricken. How to find the words, grief rising, bitter like bile. The temptation is strong, too strong, to simply shut it away and shut down. To hide.

Tatooine had only made sense, after all. Not for the first time, he longs for the simplicity of the solution; protect the baby, look after the vulnerable family, cut oneself of and wallow and-- Obi-Wan looked away. He closed his eyes and simply let the feeling wash over and through him, bearing up against the terrible blackness of loss as if it were a real and physical wave. As if it had an end, somewhere. Oh, those children, their wide and trusting eyes...

"He was like a brother to me," Obi-Wan tells the boy, unable to find his breath, and grapples again for words that are not failure or loss, "Not today. Another time, another-- That's enough, for today."

He has to leave. Even the enclosed courtyard of the Gallows has become too much and so Obi-Wan simply turns and walks away. Dignity would prefer him not to call it fleeing, but it closely resembles such an act. He has no more words to give.