driftfleet | (no subject)

Entry tags:

(no subject)

Who: Obi-Wan Kenobi
Broadcast: Text
Action: Iskaulit
When: Jan 30th

A: TEXT

I think it's time I retire from teaching for a while.

I don't suppose anyone knows a decent way to pass the time?

B: ACTION

[ When Stefan announced the prayer room, a quiet place for meditation, Obi-Wan had been thrilled. While he enjoyed and cared for the Huntress, quiet is not something they are known for. After talking to Anakin, he knew he was in dire need of quiet and inner peace

He does not regret ( he can not regret )

And yet.

In a way he had envisioned as a child, it had always been Master and Padawan, together. Even when separate, they fought together, learned together, believed in each other. But Qui-Gon died all too soon, and for so long, Obi-Wan threw his hands up against tradition. When Yoda told him to be Anakin's master, he chose to be Anakin's friend. He did not caution against attachment, only warned where it might lead.

He breathes heavily, his legs folded on the mat. It's not working. The Force is still too quiet, too alien at this moment. It doesn't understand his sorrow.

Obi-Wan chuckles, opening his eyes and pushing his hair back. It should be used to that by now.

Looking down at his hands, he's quiet when he speaks. ]

Please help me.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ Divination? Isn't that what Mother Talsin does with her large crystal ball. ]

Pardon me if I say something rude, but does that mean you are a witch?

[It's all right, he's good and he's one of Leia's so she feels comfortable admitting to it.]

Yes... though I may be different from whatever you're thinkin' of. I've met a bunch of other magic people here and there's all sorts of different rules, dependin' where you came from.

Don't worry. You're far easier on the eyes than the others I've met. Better manners too.

Oh! Thank you!

[And yep, she's definitely blushing a little bit. She's not used to getting compliments like that.]

What are the witches like then in your world?

Edited 2016-02-02 05:07 (UTC)

[ Uh. He hesitates, trying to put it graciously. ]

I'm afraid I don't know their ways very well. They were an oddity even in our large galaxy. A sisterhood that takes care of their own, with powers beyond mine.

That sounds like the Coven.

[Small frown.]

Least, that's how the Coven's supposed to be. Haven't been doin' a very good job of takin' care of each other lately.

Well, the Nightsisters do look out for each other.

[ That much is clear. They may not care for the rest of the galaxy, but their own is well-prized and taken care of. The women, at least. The same cannot be said for the Dathomir males. ]

Nightsisters.

[If it weren’t for Fiona, maybe that’s what they could have been, real sisters, instead of always trying to compete and tear each other apart while enemies were at the door.]

Are you scared of them?

Scared? No.

[ Wary, certainly. He doesn't trust them, but he has no reason to be against them.

( none, save for one Dathomir male who did not deserve what happened. ) ]

I do not know them well and I suppose I do not trust them much, but I would be foolish to presume that of all magic or witches.

Where I come from, most people are scared of us, if they even know we exist.

[She smiles.]

But people here are different.

People can be the same about the Jedi at times. Because we follow a strict code, our interactions can seem . . . inhuman.

[ It's always such a bizarre conclusion for people to reach but Obi-Wan doesn't care to correct them. ]

You seem pretty damn human to me.

[She saw that sorrow on his face earlier, clear as day.]

[ He chuckles wryly, folding his arms. ]

You caught me in a moment of weakness, I'm afraid. I'm usually much more composed.

That's all right. Nobody's perfect, you know. Ain't nothing to be ashamed of.

Would you like me to pray with you?

Pray?

[ Oh, right. That would be what it looks like. Praying isn't the word he would use. ]

Oh, yes . . . [ He hesitates, struggling to find the right words. ] It's not exactly praying. The Force is here. Everywhere. I feel it. I sense it. I exist within it.

I do not pray to it. I commune with it.

Communing with the universe... I like the sound of that. I can try to commune with you, if you show me how to do it.

I can certainly try.

[ She is Force-sensitive, in a way. It shouldn't be too hard. Though, he thinks to himself, he had no business teaching anyone anything lately. ]

Sit on your knees, placing your hands on your lap.

[Misty does as he says, shifting into the appropriate position.]

Do I close my eyes too?

If you want. I certainly find that it helps a lot to tune out the reality we perceive around us to tap into the Force.

[Misty nods and closes her eyes. It's that way too, with her Divination. She automatically starts taking slow, deep breaths as she waits for his further instructions.]

[ Obi-Wan does the same. He's led many sessions like these and his voice comes out like a seasoned practitioner. ]

Let yourself go. All thoughts, all feelings, all that you are . . . let it slip away into the Force. Because you are the Force, always touching, never parted. You are part of the fabric of the universe, special, unique . . . important.

[Breathe in. Breathe out. Obi-Wan’s voice is soothing, yet authoritative, as she turns all her attention to his words. Fortunately, she is no stranger to meditation, having practiced nearly every day in the swamps. It’s how she found Zoe and Kyle, and later Myrtle. Now, she tries to tap into that feeling - the Force as he’s calls it, Divination as Cordelia would say, what others would probably claim was the Holy Spirit - once more. Whatever it’s called, Misty longs to be part of it and part of something bigger and more important than herself.]

[ He's not sure how she'll do it. He simply knows she can - that all of them can, whether they're Force-sensitive or not. The Force is in all of them, around them. It is the motion, the push that leads them onto greater things.

He is not one for the great, for the legacy or his name to be written in history. ]

Follow my breathing.

[ He is here to serve. ]

[Shifting her position ever so slightly, Misty works to readjust her breathing to match his, more or less successfully. But her thoughts are distracting her, so she figures she might as well ask:]

Why are you sad?

[ The bluntness of the question takes him aback. ]

I . . . had a fight of sorts with someone.

[ No point mentioning that he's been burdened with knowledge of the future. ]