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

[obi_wanmanshow]

"I've heard many creatures and people called a 'demon' before, but they're only ever just a new form of lif," Obi-Wan replied, still looking out over Skyhold, lost in thought, "The only real monsters I know of are all people."

Animals kill. Demons kill. But is it out of malice, or simply because that is what their nature dictated to them to be? Monsters... that's another thing entirely, to Obi-Wan's mind. That Darkness, is all too close to every heart, in some ways.

"The most senior Rifter I've yet met has been here only half a year. Do you know any who arrived earlier?"

[dragoon_pride]

Darkness is a thing Kain knows too much about, unfortunately. He can't help but solemnly agree with that statement, "Too true... the capacity for evil lurks in us all." He sighs. "But there are literal monsters all the same. In my opinion, I'd much rather fight the literal ones than the human ones." Or the inner ones, he thinks.

"That sounds like it must be the first," Kain says, thinking about the timing. Half a year... he can't imagine it, but soon enough it'll be the same for him, and that'll stretch into a year, and onward... "This whole thing only started very recently. It seems that everyone here is still working to understand it all."