Coping Methods | Open

[obi_wanmanshow]

WHO: Obi-Wan Kenobi and whomever shall encounter him
WHAT: Obi-Wan hangs about Skyhold
WHEN: Since his arrival at Skyhold through Drakonis
WHERE: Skyhold Library and also Some random battlements action
NOTES: None yet

1 | A Quiet, Well-Lit Place
The Inquisition Library was a curious thing. He was use to holos and databases, searchable by voice or material input, by keyword and title and author and a thousand other small conveniencs that managed, one after the other, to strie him at the worst of times. It was strange, to realize how privileged even the meanest peasant on the farthest Rim planet was, by comparison to this-- to the idea of something you needed being just at your fingertips, but so easily misplaced.

He wasn't even sure if the book he was looking for existed, let alone in a language he could be gauranteed of understanding. Translation technology was more lacking than common index, and his communicator, which might have helped, was little more than salvage.

After a time, Obi-Wan simply sighed, rubbed at the bridge of his nose, and put his latest selection away-- as unsuitable as the last. Clearly Materials Enhancement: The Enchanting Art of Lyrium was going to be of no use to him. Perhaps to anyone!

What in the world was Lyrium, anyways?


2 | The Truth Between
There were a lot of jokes made about Jedi and meditation.

Most of them were grounded in truth. For example, that Jedi were so inneffectual that they responded to ever crisis by taking a nap. Not that Obi-Wan was sleeping, despite appearances. He's sat, cross-legged, and very still, just on the edge of the parapet overlooking the peaceful goings-on of the courtyard below on one hand, and wide, wild view of the mountains on the other. The tower wall at his back provides some shelter, both from the wind, and from other people, but by and large he is quite exposed-- and, seemingly, unconcerned about this fact.

Actually, maybe he is sleeping. He hasn't moved in a long time, his eyes are closed, why, anyone could just come right up and--

"May I help you?"

...or not.




3 | Synecdoche
The Lightsaber was spread out in pieces on the table by the window. It was a lovely antique, this window, beautifully made with thick, bubbly glass in beautifully cut shapes depicting... Something, surely. Obi-Wan would likely have needed a more than passing understanding of the local religions to have said exactly what. Regardless, it was the brightest place in the tower, at this hour, with the sun streaming in to illuminate the exposed guts of his once-functional lightsaber.

The casing was cracked, of course, and several connections severed, one or two slagged beyond simple repair-- they'd need re-insulating and solder at best, and to be replaced outright, at worst. He was hoping, praying in a way, for the former. A replacement of sufficient purity and delicate construction would be hard to find in a society that viewed a blacksmith's anvil as a suitable tool for weapon-construction. And the insulating rings around the power supply weren't in their best shape either. It was a miracle the crystal wasn't cracked!

But it wasn't.

There it stood, sparkling in a beam of sunlight, glowing faintly with its own inner purity, a beautiful blue Kyber Crystal, perfectly cut in one lovely hexagonal spar. It was no longer than his thumbnail, and there was no doing without it-- thank the Force that it had survived where so much else had failed. Obi-Wan sighed, and went back to his inventory of parts, so engrossed in his work that he was for once ignorant of any observer's eye.

Comments

1 |

[fleurdesel]

"That is a familiar sound." Adelaide murmured, pausing from where she was passing by, arms laden with books and papers, ink and pen curled in one hand, pot of tea still steaming in the other. As one that had made the same sigh herself, the sigh of one searching and not finding and getting frustrated with such things, there was a wash of sympathy to her eyes. Familiarity could only offer so much with such works.

When was was thoroughly unfamiliar? It made it doubly difficult.

"What are you failing to find, or rather what is refusing to be found?" Quiet (it is a library, after all) her Orlesian accent low and warm, wryly amused.

[obi_wanmanshow]

Obi-Wan turns to her with a momentary expression of surprise; despite his frustration, he had been trying not to disturb. Too late for that, at least.

"I'm looking for information on material tolerances and availability. I have a vital project at hand that requires materials with specific properties, though not in any great quantity," He threw one hand aside, as if to say and so you see my problem, despite the apologetic smile, "I haven't been making much headway. And what little I have found uses entirely different terminology. The search continues."

[fleurdesel]

"Mmm. What is the purpose of your material?" Knowing that can point them in the right direction. Occasionally for the proper answer one must sort out what the right question ought to be- which is a trial in and of itself on occasion. Adelaide sets her books down as well as the kettle, peering at the books he'd been searching through.

"And what will you need it to do?"

2; i apologise

[foxsays]

Things one usually finds when climbing up the walls of Skyhold: loose stone, loose tiles, maybe some rotting wood or the odd nest, sometimes an angry raven that pecks at your fingers before it flaps off in a huff.

Usually not a person. Unless she's the first one up and helping a learner over the last hurdle.

It's her left hand, the one marked by the shard that pats then recoils quickly before her face pops up, one brow raised in surprise, the apology quick on her lips. "Forgive me, señor, I didn't see you."

[obi_wanmanshow]

"No trouble at all," Obi-Wan replies, unbending enough to offer a helping hand, "I was looking for an isolated spot, but it seems I'm not the first to find it."

That means you, miss. This is your spot, isn't it?

"Unless you mind sharing?"

[foxsays]

Accepting the hand, she pushes with her legs to stand and stretch before she takes a seat, feet dangling over the edge as she laughs.

"The Inquisition is for all, even the tops of the battlements and the rooftops. You might wish to avoid down near the stables if you seek quiet though, I teach people how to climb and fall safely down there a few times a week."

Might as well warn the man, it tends to look weird when there's just a little crowd scrambling then flopping into piles of hay.

"You are new, yes? I think I've bumped into most of those who prefer to travel by rooftop to the ground."

2

[dragoon_pride]

Wandering the battlements and ramparts is a regular occurrence for Kain, who doesn't go a day without some time spent up there. He's always had a fondness for heights, and there's no better place for some solitude. No better place to relax and gather his thoughts.

Though today as he wanders to find a good area to settle in, he notices someone else has beat him to it, with a similar idea. He's about to pass by and go find somewhere else when the man talks. Maybe he's not so out of it as he seemed.

"I was just... passing through. I wasn't expecting to see anyone else here."

[obi_wanmanshow]

"Neither did I," Obi-Wan explains, kindly, "I was meditating, but I can find somewhere else, if I'm disturbing you habits."

There are so many people, in this keep, and in Skyhold as a whole, that they are living as much on top of one another as any crowded borough in lower Coruscant. It is inevitable that with so many, so new, and only so much space, that there will be conflict and overlap.

He unfolds his legs, ready to stand.

"Obi-Wan Kenobi, Jedi Master. And you are?"

[dragoon_pride]

Kain shrugs, not really minding the interruption. It's not as if he's in any particular rush at the moment, anyway, and anyone of a like mind for solitary activities can't be so bad. "It's all right... I don't blame you for coming here for such a thing. It's more peaceful up here than anywhere else."

He glances off to the distance for a moment, then back to Obi-Wan. "I'm Kain Highwind, dragoon. I'm afraid I've not heard of a Jedi Master, though. Is that a style of fighting?" In his armor, Kain would definitely appear to be a warrior type, and naturally that's where his first thought goes with that.

1;

[arcaneadvisor]

The library is a common haunt of Morrigan's, though she descends from the rookery this time though not a single soul would have seen her enter. The benefits to not being confined to a singular form. She watches for a moment, accustomed enough to both libraries to know the most familiar faces that change little between visits before she approaches with a quiet ruffling of feathers.

"That might be a sensible choice, given the...situation we find ourselves in," she drawls, sounding faintly amused the way she so often does. Better than anger regarding the current state of things she supposes, taking a glance at the book. Enchanting is an avenue she cares for little but lyrium? Well, an entirely separate matter.

Who knows what the Red Templars might have to hand at any given moment after all, not all of them can be devoted to the same area of study as she reaches for a faded green tome a few books down, A Catalog of Elven Relics, shoved back in the wrong section but she's going to have need it of soon, of that she has no doubt.

"If you seek something in particular, you are able to make requests for new volumes to be sent directly to Skyhold."

[obi_wanmanshow]

"I hardly know what to request," He replies, kindly. A man who can't acknowledge his own weaknesses can hardly improve upon them, "And I'm beginning to think I have no business looking for myself. Though, I haven't identified a dedicated Librarian or archivist on duty."

It didn't help that half the few materials references he found named things so strange or potentially esoteric that Obi-Wan couldn't identify them. What was Dawnstone, Lyrium, or Silverite? So many things, just familiar enough to be sure that they likely weren't the same. And how could he ask the Quartermaster for what he needed, when he had no idea what to ask?

"However, thank you, for the advice. I may yet need it."

[arcaneadvisor]

"T'would depend on personal interests and tastes, mine own are elven history, magic and arts thought lost or forgotten entirely. Arcane matters." Not that Skyhold has much she hasn't already scavenged but she has plenty of time on her hands here to read over them again without the interruptions of Celene. "This is Skyhold, an archivist would suggest rather more organisation than we are capable of when the right hand does not know what the left is doing, and vice versa."

A shame Leliana is far too busy to descend from her tower to catch that but well, she'll take her victories where she finds them for the moment.

"Am I to take that you are new to Skyhold? I know the library well enough to recommend a few things though I would avoid Genitivi, I have met the man and he is quite the bore." Why they didn't just leave him to the cultists is beyond her.

1

[byblow]

"I know," Alistair says sympathetically on the heels of that sigh.

His distaste for books is usually exaggerated—he's not stupid, he's actually rather grateful for and proud of his education, and when he understands why something matters he can suppress his impulses to never sit still and never shut up long enough to read about it—but, still, he isn't often here. If he does use a library, it's usually the one downstairs, with the cobwebs and poor lighting and the books too crumbled to display this proudly.

Lately he isn't often in Skyhold at all, either. That he is here—in Skyhold, in the library—has nothing to do with book and everything to do with the rookery overhead. He's trying to work up the nerve to go make Leliana talk to him. ('Make.' He can't make her do anything.)

But he looks and sounds relatively careless, for a man with circles beneath his eyes and the Old Gods' song in his head, slouched and sitting on the edge of a table rather than a chair.

"I keep saying we should burn them all," he goes on, "but no one listens."

[obi_wanmanshow]

"All knowledge has value," Obi-Wan replies, dryly amused, despite his personal aggravation, "Those who burn books, however frustrating those books may be, tend not to come out on the good side of history."

He glances over at Alistair and then immediately turns more fully, pulled sharply by a sense of... Something. Something crawling, dark, and wrong, subtly discordant. It's small, really, but lingers at the edge of his perception like tinnitus, ringing.

"I don't believe we've been introduced," He tries, kindly enough. Though, the man does look tired, "Are you alright?"

[byblow]

"No," he says, "I'm Alistair."

And, look, in his defense, it isn't only a dad joke. It works on multiple levels. At least two. The dad joke level and the level where being who and what he is and being alright are, apparently, inherently mutually exclusive conditions. Very deep.

"And until you've been made to copy passages out of something called Essential Tomes for the Painfully Devout, I'm not going to give your opinion any weight. No offense, Ser—?"

Ser Likely Not Of This World. But not necessarily. Some of the locals have the glowy hand thing as well, these days.

2

[demonicbeauty]

Despite her newly-Human appearance and despite years of training to behave as a Human, Ariadne could never resist her natural, Alastrian instincts to climb. She still slept in the trees, gifting whatever bed someone tried to make for her to someone more in need. She still always felt safest in the high places. And, from time to time, when she felt the old urge to fly, she would leap from one rooftop to the next, if only to feel the wind on her face.

At least she knew better than to indulge in that last habit during the day.

Which is how she landed with a soft thud on the tower behind a strange man she'd never seen before. She picked up his scent, making him for a Human.

She'd never seen a Human sleeping upright like that before.

Carefully, using her palm to steady her, she crept down the slanting roof of the tower to get a better look.

[obi_wanmanshow]

Obi-Wan's senses expanded around him. The Force is a living experience, an energy field that binds and penetrates all life, even the echoes of life that has passed and that which has yet to be. He sensed her curiosity as if it were his own, her approach in the shift of stone underfoot and the curving path of wind and light.

He opened his eyes.

"Hello, there."

2. hi mica hi

[keeperofmagi]

"This is an innappropriate place for a nap," A chiding voice came from below him, as Nerva stepped up onto the battlements, her armour glinting in the sun.

"You are likely to fall, and injure yourself, and others." She called up to him, saying it with the tone of someone who a) knew that they were objectively correct, and b) would ensure her will would be carried out, whether anyone liked it or not.

whispers omg hi

[obi_wanmanshow]

"I am not asleep," Obi-Wan replied politely, utterly calm, opening his eyes and....oh, there you are, "Even so, I'm very unlikely to fall. But, if it will put you at ease, I can come down."

He can do the so-reasonable tone too, you see. It doesn't work on Anakin either; but then, there's no way for Nerva to know that he'll happily jump from the battlements to the stairs below, where Nerva herself is standing.

2~

[lennethvalkyrie]

Ironically, Lenneth had come up to the battlements to engage in a little meditation herself. Finding one of her usual spots occupied, she attempted to backtrack as quietly as possible and find herself another... but it seems she'd already disturbed his concentration.

"My apologies," she said. "It seems we had similar ideas of how to spend the afternoon.

"Perhaps too similar."

[obi_wanmanshow]

"No matter, I'm finished enough for one afternoon," You can't break your stride this fully, and then just go back to it. Obi-Wan unfolds his legs gracefully and rises, dusting himself off, "Please, don't let me displace you; you have seniority, I'm sure."

(1) - earlier in drakonis

[theproperglove]

Josephine does not frequent the library but that does not mean she avoids it entirely. She enjoys the reassurance that comes with having facts double-checked, and while the Inquisition's library is quite scant compared to those she is accustomed to, there are still tomes dotted here and there that have information about noble lineages.

It is during her preparation for the soiree that she stumbled upon the unfamiliar man, and she finds herself taking pity upon him for he looks quite lost. "Are you all right?" she asks, walking over to him with her books in her arms and a smile on her face.

[obi_wanmanshow]

"Fine, fine," He assures her, waving one hand reassuringly, and only then turns to meet, "Excuse my manners, madame. It appears that Libraries and I may just not agree with one another."

At least the other one had had a proper index, but... Obi-Wan takes a deep, careful breath, letting it go. It's late enough in the day that he might as well find another task for the day, and leave this for the fresh eyes of tomorrow.

"Obi-Wan Kenobi of the Jedi Order, at your service."

3.

[liberalum]

These rifts have a way of letting in all sorts of rabble, don't they?

Dorian has been glancing over off and on for the past several minutes, which is a testament to how boring this particular manuscript happens to be as it is how curious this stranger is being. That, and the sun is steadily shifting, pushing even brighter rays through the window that the Rifter is occupying, but making dimmer the light coming through Dorian's chosen window. Slowly, but fairly surely, his attention waxes and wanes in kind.

On the object, mainly, as much as the man bent over it, watching the interaction of foreign objects being examined by knowing fingers. He's not sure exactly what it reminds him of. The innerworkings of a clock, perhaps, with all its little, inexplicable pieces and parts.

A quick glance determines that they are alone in their chosen wedge of library before Dorian speaks up, light, trivial; "Everything accounted for?"

[obi_wanmanshow]

"Hm?" Obi-Wan glanced up and found himself almost completely alone-- with one exception, "Yes, not that does me any good. I'm going to have to replace half of it."

He's exaggerating; it's half by mass, but only because the least functional pieces are also the heaviest. It's lucky that any of it's reparable at all-- not that Obi-Wan believes in luck. Staring at it isn't helping either, but it feels a little bit like making progress; call it a placebo examination, then.

"I've seen you here before, haven't I?"