( open. )

[apoptotic]

Who: anakin skywalker + you
Where: the station
When: days 165-166
Summary: man wakes up from bender to find all his problems still there
Warnings: violence well that took no time

I. EVERYBODY WAS KUNG-FU FIGHTING
SOMETHING SOMETHING FAST AS LIGHTNING.

[ after days spent comatose, anakin sleeps almost half a day. he might have continued sleeping but for a rather brusque awakening. not that he could blame ahsoka. were the roles reversed, he would have been waking her every hour on the hour, and likely earned himself a punch for his efforts.

that's gratitude.

rest is the obvious treatment for his sense of malaise, and anakin does try. considering a few hours later find him in the training hall, the results were about as successful as one would expect.

he was brought down during the time set aside to adjust. almost two weeks were spent aware of nothing while the others singlehandedly pissed off an entire population. he has a lot to catch up on.

his lightsaber remains clipped to his belt, which is the only reason his target(s) live still in one piece. with a sword, with a staff, with anything permitted to him, anakin takes down target after target in a demonstration that is all elegant violence and brash grace. his lungs ache, his muscles burn — but that’s the point. action does not necessitate thought. ]

II. DO YOU WANT TO BUILD A DROID, MAN
YES, IT HAS TO BE A DROID, MAN.

[ though at this point, it resembles nothing. spare parts in a pile on a table in the hangar, through which anakin sorts through for whatever he needs, stripping them out if need be. his fingers move with the ease of experience. the lack of ai is a crass limitation, but he doesn’t need an intelligent droid.

even with an audience, anakin doesn’t look up, too busy completing the first part: an arm, which he tests the articulation of by having it extend and close around his finger. ]

There’s a chair if you plan to keep watch, [ he observes idly. ]

III. THE THIRST OPTION
AKA I HAVE NO EXCUSE.

[ —or he’s seated on the edge of a pool after a swim to cool off, a glove over his mechanical arm, and focused entirely on the surface of the water. he holds his hand, palm out. a stream of water rises, collects into a ball before his hand. his fingers tremble from the exertion, and his brow furrows, and the ball collapses.

the force remains weak. his once instinctive awareness, blunted. anakin swallows thickly.

he’s still more ripped than kylo ren, though. ]

Comments

[erbier]

[ Really, she ignores his incredulity, contemplating instead the idea he has presented her with. She wonders if she... believes in herself. Trying to feel out that idea is disorienting, like reaching into a dark hole that swallows her arm. Warped by a madman's religion, her sense of self is sometimes difficult to navigate. Death of the ego, separation from her humanity through repeated destruction of basic human inhibitions. ]

What is a Life?

[ As far as she understands it, it's a long torturous crawl towards death. ]

[apoptotic]

[ something he no longer has. ]

That's up to you.

[erbier]

[ And she would say she never really had one, so what are the pair of them supposed to do. ]

So people keep telling me.

[ No rebuke in her voice, just honestly. It's not that she doesn't believe the sentiment... just that maybe she doesn't entirely know what she wants. And maybe is a little afraid to know too. ]

[apoptotic]

Then it's probably time to stop asking others, and ask yourself. Pliers.

[ the command is not to her, but to the droid. obediently, it extends an arm to the pliers anakin laid in front of it. he chuckles dryly. ]

One tool down. Several hundred to go. Release. [ a beat. ] Drop it. [ he sighs, and pulls the tool free himself. ]

If you really want to know — [ attention fixed on a panel — ] ask yourself what you want. What you value. What you hope for. What you'd be willing to die for. You'll get your answer then.

[erbier]

[ She's had a very comfortable life without any ambition. To hope for anything better than what she currently had was the root of all pain. Rather than think about it even now, she murmurs ]

I see, this must be how you taught Ahsoka.

[apoptotic]

I taught Ahsoka by instruction and example. She was my padawan. It fell to me to complete her education. [ fourteen when she first came to him, a scrawny, snippy little thing. how quickly he grew fond of her. how proud. ]

However much you think she learned from me, I learned more from her.

[erbier]

[ Ah... She can feel his fondness, and has felt Ahsoka's for him in kind... An emotion that really can only be jealousy grows a little stronger. How nice it would have been, to have something like that. Someone, anyone, to take her under their wing. She smiles, although she does so thinly, looking away. ]

That seems very special.