thisavrou_log | [openish;] drowned and dreamt this moment

[openish;] drowned and dreamt this moment

Who: Anakin Skywalker (

forcechoke), Padmé Amidala (

padbae), Obi-Wan Kenobi (

jedimindtrick), & you (♥)?
When: 5/19-20
Where: Amissis-Re
What: Multiple trips through the Alter-Ingress; two closed prompts, one open.
Warnings: N/A; will update if necessary.

5/19 | for Padmé
[Seemingly on a more level playing field now, most of the anxiety passed regarding revelations of their futures (or pasts, from a certain point of view), Anakin had finally brought the Alter-Ingress up as a way of potentially rooting these things out. The idea, as much as he's understood it thus far, had been wrapped up in the idea of home. Seeing Naboo, seeing family, and to a lower degree, maybe finding something that explains why the galaxy seems such a darker place in the abyss of that future neither of them can see.

What they get instead is that darkness, in a very literal sense. Walking away from the Ingress' entry point, Anakin keeps a hand firmly laced with Padmé's, as they find themselves presented with a dark, nondescript hallway with periodic units of harsh lighting interspersed. It looks vaguely, as he remembers, like the interior of a Jedi Cruiser, but with none of the bustle and life he's used to.

This place looks deserted, but all he senses is dread.]

Oh, I have a bad feeling about this.

5/20 | for Obi-Wan
[Back from a harrowing trip through the Alter-Ingress, and without much time to explain himself otherwise, he'd urged Obi-Wan into the damnable thing with him with insistence upon insistence that something is very wrong, that the machine doesn't seem to be working the same way, and that the Force no longer seems to be trying to do anything but warn.

He has a stolen, duplicate lightsaber hidden in the back of his obi to prove it, but this isn't the time, or place. (That insistence will come later, when they're back on the ship and--hopefully--able to do something about it.) For now, it only serves as a grim reminder that dreams aren't the only way to experience the horrible dread of impossible, terrible things on the horizon.

Once again, through the portal, the story this time is immediately more familiar, and all the more horrible for it. The temple stands before them, off only a short distance, signs of a fight immediately apparent. Smoke rises from one of the center and corner towers. The city behind them still seems to be moving at no altered pace from its usual evening rush, the sounds of thrumming motors speeding off in the distance is a constant, ambient hum.

The temple grounds themselves are quiet, (too) still for all the signs of conflict that scorch the walls and scar the ground before them.

Anakin feels his heart drop. Something had felt wrong, different. But it hadn't been anything like this. Instead of subverting their futures, as they've so often planned to, it seems they've been dropped straight into the middle of the worst of it. The part that heralds the end.

It certainly feels apocalyptic enough.]

Do you think there's still anyone in there?

5/20 (earlier) | open*
[Having flown frequent transports back and forth between the Moira and the planet during this pit-stop, he finds himself on the surface, and near the Alter-Ingress more than he really would intentionally. Through again is not where he wants to be, but with the right plea ~~or accident~~, what he wants may not be the operative term.]

[*ooc: I'm open for multiple prompts here (all set for Worst of Both Worlds, but hit me up on plurk or with a PM to plot/if you want a specialized starter.]

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[ No amount of prescient forethought could prepare a person for something like this. Even someone as balanced and as centered as Obi-Wan Kenobi labors under the pressure of such chaos. The Force wails with voices — painfully familiar tones that warn viciously of terrible dangers. Darkness looms and the Jedi Master is all at once lost in it, thrashed into a heavy upset that charges every nerve in his body.

It isn't until he's forced himself to tear his eyes from the smoke and flames than Anakin's question finally registers with him. Tension running through him has his hand lingering near his lightsaber, but he stays his hand for the time being. ]

I wouldn't trust my senses here; I sense a dark presence.

[ Short. Straightforward. He's hiding behind a borrowed calm — the perception of calm that is so obviously a lie. But it is the only answer he can muster. The fog surrounds them so thoroughly that he could very well be wrong, but without saying as much, he doesn't expect to find anyone alive inside the temple.

Not to be deterred, he pushes forward, up the remaining steps and into the temple that has been home for nearly his entire life. He has to know what happened, exactly what happened. Even if terror threatens to dissuade him, even if fear is hounding him like a dark temptress, Obi-Wan must know. ]

Let's not waste time — we could be pulled back at any moment. [ He glances at Anakin as he quickly formulates a plan. ] The security recordings? We can sweep the temple on the way...

[As attuned to Obi-Wan as he is, as much as he can feel the sorrow creeping into his bones as it washes over his own, he can see the obvious setting of his shoulders, the squaring of his jaw in preparation, a gathering of strength, however falsified.

It is beyond him to tear into that with words or further questions. Obi-Wan knows as little, and feels this as keenly--perhaps, even, moreso--as Anakin does. This is the only home Obi-Wan has ever known (as far as Anakin is aware, at any rate), having no foundational years spent anywhere else.

The concern is as palpable as the smoke hanging in the now acrid air, the burn of it mixing with Coruscant's already unpleasant overhang of smog into a pungent, near-sentient smell that acts as a warning all on its own. It burns in his lungs, even as they cautiously enter the temple, and he has to suppress a cough, letting the distasteful air settle awkwardly where it shouldn't stay.

The interior of the temple is as bad as the outside, showing signs of significant strain and battle scarring, and though always carrying a low, mumbling hush, the sound of silence now is deafening.

Dead.

Anakin swallows past the dull burning itch in his throat and nods in favor of Obi-Wan's plan. If that plan leads to them finding whoever did this--well. What some masters called revenge, he's quick to dub it justice. And it would be well-served tonight.

He follows Kenobi's lead, only a half-pace behind, until he hears a faint static in the distance. He grabs the back of his friend's robes, and pulls them both behind the nearest pillar as the feedback grows louder, closer.

It was stupid to stay here, 'sleemo'. Whatever it is, it's as good as dead.]

Edited 2016-05-22 08:00 (UTC)

[ Whatever focus he'd been hoping to maintain is blown, the sudden jarring causing Obi-Wan to give Anakin something of a severe look until he realizes why he's been pulled aside. He listens to the approaching steps and his mind is racing unpleasantly.

They could find their answers here, he thinks. Spring out like predators, capture those very clearly too stupid (or too confident) to leave, but considering the climate of the temple and the obvious lack of Jedi protectors, he has to wonder — briefly, as the situation will only allow a moment — if caution here won't provide them easier answers.

He's about to communicate as much when a shadow across the hall catches his eye. Robes, a pair of feet — a body — which Kenobi knows shouldn't be unexpected, but here in his home it's never an easy sight.

His eyes take on every bit of the pain he's hoping to hide, but he resists the urge to abandon their hiding place despite the fact that his heart is leading him to race out and take action. He grips Anakin's sleeve as the intruders grow closer, not yet wanting to give up their position.

We don't exactly have a choice, is the annoyed response. The sound of the footsteps stop. Are you sure we haven't been this way already? Yeah, look, there's that dead Twi'lek again. ]

[He's unclear on the source of the feedback until voices themselves ring out, and that heart that's dropped to his stomach leaves him cold. Clones. They're clones. Suddenly, the run-in with the stormtroopers on Bespin with Luke makes so much horrible, awful sense. It had been easier to assume the Empire had simply stolen, or tried to mock, aesthetic pieces of the Republic. Easier to rationalize.

But that's not it at all. The "fall" of the Republic isn't really one at all. It's a shift. They're the same.

The way the voices mock the bodies laid to waste around them pulls away any veneer of patience Anakin had tried to force, and instead of holding Kenobi back, he's launching himself around that pillar in an instant, throwing himself bodily into the nearest trooper, leaving himself open for the other without care.]

We trusted you!

[The words end up unintelligible as he's ripping the clone's helmet off, throwing it at the other, and taking multiple swings.]

[ A blaster goes off and the sound of a struggle behind Anakin's words draws Obi-Wan out from the shadows of the pillar. This, more than anything, appears to trouble the clones considerably more than Anakin's aggression.

But, sir— slips out before Skywalker makes that a poor decision. Fists aren't anyone's preferred method, except for Anakin's, it seems. Obi-Wan's lightsaber cracks and hums to life, his blade deflecting another laser blast.

It's Kenobi! As if that isn't an alarming statement in its own right, he tacks on a take him down, which prompts Obi-Wan to threaten with his saber near the clone's throat. ]

Come to your senses!

[ It's commanding, strong, rough with emotion. This is not what any of them need right now, and he expects this to work. How could it not? These clones are their friends, not traitors. Anakin can't be right... ]

[Even if it's not meant for him, Obi-Wan's plea stops him in his tracks. He's broken a nose by now, and worse beside, but he knows--they all know, they have for ages--that the clones are too resilient to get taken down like this. He glances up at Obi-Wan's lightsaber at the other clone's throat, then back down to the man prone under his tackle.]

What have you done?

[Between sick, wet coughs comes the one thing Anakin suspected, but hoped he wouldn't hear. "Our orders, sir."

His lightsaber is out in another instant, hot and near-searing against the man's neck. It's not a threat, but something just beyond a promise.]

Whose orders?

[ Kenobi turns to reel in Skywalker — a habit by now — but the sound of commotion has drawn more attention than either of them initially intended. The two additional clones appearing at the end of the hallway are pushed back, thrown by Obi-Wan's direction of the Force to buy them a moment. ]

We don't have time for this!

[ Growling in frustration, he aims a kick center-mass on the clone at the end of his lightsaber and the body goes flying, crashing into a nearby pillar and landing inert on the ground. They need credible answers and it's clear these clone troopers have been compromised — a part of the problem, but certainly not the driving force behind the destruction of the Jedi Order.

Turning back, he's poised to watch Anakin pass judgement. His body turns tense as the full impact of his best friend's emotions crash into him and for just a moment he thinks Skywalker will spare the clone's life, only to realize too late he may not be right. ]

["Good...soldiers...follow orders." It's only reply Anakin gets in all the commotion, and his eyes go wide before they narrow in on the clone. That's what Tup had said before killing a knight and dying. What Fives had--

It takes only a pause of realization, in those awful few seconds, before the lightsaber does its work. He doesn't feel any better. It changes nothing. He looks back up at Obi-Wan as he stands, defiant and daring him to question the necessity in it.

He takes only a moment, before they resume their way back toward security, to take in the picture around them, and thinks selfishly, for the first time, that he's glad Ahsoka isn't here. But the intrusive thought is gone just as quickly, replaced by the grief hanging palpable in the air. It's time to go.]

[ Kenobi sees it all, up to and including Anakin's dark defiance. The look he receives suspends the lecture forming on his lips and he hurries from the scene before either of them can be surprised by more clones. Nevertheless, the troubled thoughts follow him through the paces.

They could have gotten more information. They could have incapacitated both of clones and left with clean hands. He could have stopped Anakin, but instead he'd stood frozen, expecting his friend would come to a less violent conclusion.

He clears a corner and waves Anakin along. They're getting close, no use adding another distraction. They can discuss Anakin's actions later. ]

Stay alert.

[ This has all been in the making for so long, Obi-Wan realizes numbly. How else could something this destructive and complete come to be? One hand wipes down his face while the other grips his humming lightsaber like its his only connection to reality. He ignores another body in passing, but even without looking, he recognizes the pallid face of one of the archivists. ]

[All experience he's had lead him to think the exact opposite when that broken phrase emerges, but Obi-Wan's thought of a time and place are correct and take precedence, despite the fact that Anakin can feel the unsettled lack of resolution sitting between them, still waiting for explanation. It's Master Windu's definition of necessity, and more beside, perhaps. But even then, the semantics of the difference between justice seeing an end and revenge in this case are minute: the destruction of the Order, whether masterminded or simply carried out, is something that deserves some sort of resolution. As much of one as they can grant it.

And in that--only in that--does Anakin's justification gain footing. It's enough.

The rest of the temple between the entrance and the security files is much the same: silent as the very real tomb it has become. The clones--sithspit, his garrison--will be back on them in little time, and he doesn't find creedence to press against the necessity of moving quickly.

The security room is empty, void of life or even loss of; Anakin can only assume they'd left post here to defend against the first sign of threat, unknowing as the rest of the temple seemingly had been to the onslaught. The post is an unfamiliar one to him, though the technology--like everything else in the temple--is simple enough to understand.

It takes him another moment to find words again, behind the tense silence and strain.]

I give it 15 minutes tops, before they figure out where we are. How far back do you want to start?

[ Kenobi scans the console for a moment, quietly calculating. He feels the seconds slipping away, but time spent here is less wasted later in his opinion. ]

It's not days. [ He thinks back to the clones, to the body in the hall, and takes a read of the Force. Making sense of the jumble would be a challenge to any Jedi, but over the years Kenobi has learned a trick or two. It isn't always only what the Force can tell him, but sometimes what it can't. ] Hours, at best. The panic isn't widespread — it hasn't reached all of the people here.

[ Maybe it never will. He can't bank on that, but it's a slightly more educated guess than he'd had a moment ago, and he really can't be bothered to waste any time analyzing it further. ]

Reverse, in intervals, until we find something.

[ Pressing his fingertips to the surface of the console, Kenobi leans forward a bit, peering at the display disk with sharp eyes. This is the best option, he reminds himself. This will give them answers and then return them to Amissis Re where they can then decide what to do with those answers.

The recording flickers, shot-through with imperfections. Troopers pass in and out of the display, clearly on patrol after the fact. Obi-Wan recognizes them but makes no mention of Anakin's earlier act of defiance. Morbidly, he wonders if murder even counts for the people here — people from their future and another person's past — or if this is merely an illusion created by an unstable machine. Either way, the mark is made and when they do return to Amisses Re, Skywalker won't find that's been left behind with the body. ]

The recording looks damaged. [ He presses a few buttons but the quality doesn't appear to improve. ] Keep going, it might still be useful.

[They've broken everything else, why not this? He nods his way through the intrusive thought, silently checking the recordings backward in ten minute intervals. Aside from the clone patrol they'd stumbled on, most instances are quiet as a--well. He's just about to shove away from the console in frustration when the next backward interval finally shows something.

It's a hooded figure, obscured, cutting in and out on the visual. With a simple nod back at Obi-Wan, the audio cuts in with an all-too-familiar voice: "Now, Lord Vader...[crackle]...bring peace...[crackle]...the Empire."]

No.

[The plea is quiet, pitiful even, desperate. He slumps forward over the inert console, that broken image staring him back in the face as he swallows back bile.

This can't be right.

But he would know that voice anywhere. Anyone who had paid a modicum of attention to Republic dealings within the last twenty years would, but none more so than the boy who had looked up to the Republic's stalwart leader for more than simple news-worthy platitudes.

He grips the sides of the recording console until his still-human hand shakes from the strain of it.

"Kill him, now. Do it."

By the Force, how had they all fallen for this?]

Edited 2016-05-24 03:03 (UTC)

[ Kenobi's eyes narrow and he feels his jaw tighten. Teeth grinding unpleasantly, he struggles to maintain calm. Between Anakin's sudden descent and Obi-Wan's equally sudden ascent, the mix of emotions shove out everything else. For a moment the Force here is only what they've put into it and it's hardly better than the ravaged remains of a thousand Jedi swirling around them.

As if fighting against a heavy gale, he reaches out with great effort and grips Anakin's shoulder through the storm. He doesn't say anything — he can't yet — but he thinks it's implicit: Stay with me.

The recording flickers several more times and when it comes back online it's viewing an empty area once more. With his free hand, Kenobi ejects the data disk and grips it tightly. ]

Anakin...

[ The name is flat, pressed down it's so thin it can't be pulled apart. He's solid and unyielding once again, a rock, an anchor for Skywalker as he comes to terms with not just a personal betrayal, but a galactic betrayal.

Still, inside his head he hears himself think all that he can't say. We allowed this to happen. We were fools. I was a fool. Dooku was right... He doesn't dare take that thought to its logical end for fear that it might be overheard. ]

I'm sorry, we have to go.

[He used me...he used me, runs through his head in a horrible clockwork rounding fashion, a new surge of the thought with every breath until Obi-Wan finally jars him to the present. He desperately wants to argue, to scramble to find proof that this isn't true, to say anything that suggests that this is reading into the situation too much.

None of that happens. The denial doesn't come. Anakin feels numb, with only Obi-Wan's words to keep his grounded, to help him to remember to breathe.

He used me. What did he want from me?

The room only seems to grow colder when he realizes it's the same thing he's always been used for: that damnable prophecy that no one seems to want to believe in, despite vying for that Chosen One's attention and loyalty at every turn. What else could it be? No man who ever professed to care and means it turns and orders the death of the only family his "friend" has left.

Force, it's too much. Take it back, please take it back.

It won't. Nothing changes except the tick of an unseen clock, and as the minute changes and he inhales another breath, the dread gives way to justification, and he finally nods past the nausea and gives in to the scant warmth of Obi-Wan's hand on his shoulder.

They're going to fix this.]

Edited 2016-05-24 05:17 (UTC)

[ Padmé had been very uncertain about passing through this machine, having forgone the trips in that others had earlier on the thought process of something that sounds too good to be true probably is. But with Anakin at her side (and still riding high from that confession) she allowed herself to be convinced into a trip.

What was the worst that could happen?]

I'm inclined to agree.

[ She may not be attuned to the force, but she can feel that something is not right here, and she gives Anakin's hand a squeeze, and lightly wraps her free hand around her blaster at her thigh. There's the sound of distant activity, and Padmé purses her lips. ]

It's probably foolish to continue without knowing what's waiting for us out there.

[From a cursory probing of their surroundings in the Force, all he can sense is the size of it, a darkness the size of a planet, a yawning void drawing toward the center. But it's definitely not organic. There are sparks of life, almost like motes of dust too difficult to discern individually until it gathers.

And it's unfortunately gathering in their direction.

He takes a cue from Padmé, his free hand wrapping around the hilt of his lightsaber, thumb resting just below the weapon's on-switch.]

I'm not sure we have much of a choice. Come on, we're negotiators, what's the worst that can happen?

[ Padmé takes a deep breath and then nods, taking the first step forward down the hallway. Her fingers stay laced with his, the stability of his touch ensuring her that this isn't all an illusion. It's still hard to believe that it is all real. They have Hyperdrive in their galaxy, but to be transported in milliseconds from one universe to another...it was still hard to wrap her mind around. ]

With you? A lot.

[ She offers him a small smile, knowing his reputation. ]

Aggressive negotiations are still negotiations!

[It's hushed, but not enough so. Off in the distance is the distinct crackle of a helmet-set comlink, and even if the orders are hushed, the intent is obvious. Footsteps continue to approach in their direction, past them and around a corner, faster now.

Every time.]

...But if you want to try and talk us out of this one, go right ahead.

All negotiations may be avoided if we're just a little bit faster then they are.

[ Padmé tilts her chin upwards at the air duct above them, her body language tense in light of the overwhelming air of forobding that this place held. She didn't want to meet whom ever those voices belonged to face to face. ]

[It's a better idea than he'd had, which had been to draw weapons and fight it out, but she's ultimately right. It's not a risk they should run, not even knowing how great said risk is. He jumps up to grab at the grate and pull it off--thank the Force in a very literal way, and then jumps again to climb up into the duct.

Situated enough to bear weight, he leans out with a hand extended.]

You know, I think this is the first time we've done this...

[Anakin, not now.]

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[openish;] drowned and dreamt this moment

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haha welp

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