001 { Siri's arrival

[responsibleformyownrisks]

[Action: locked to House 46, early evening]

[“Don’t worry so much.”...

One minute Siri was on Azure, dying, DEAD, and the next she... wasn't. She should be. But she wasn't. She was lying on the ground in a forest, of all places. Not a large one, there was a building close by - she could sense its inhabitants, although she didn't pay them any mind at the moment, too lost in the shock of arrival. Of dying. Drawing a sharp, desperate breath (not panicking; Jedi didn't panic. Not even dead ones), she faltered in rising to her feet. The sharp throb of pain in her shoulders; different from what she had been feeling not a moment ago, had her twisting around in an attempt to pinpoint the cause.

All she could do was STARE.]

KRIFF.

[Wings. She had wings. And they were blue. Force, now she knew she couldn't be dead. Unless becoming one with the Force was far stranger from what she'd been told... Not that that HELPED matters any. Or made her any less uneasy.

Or changed the simple fact that she SHOULD be dead. She exhaled unsteadily and forced herself to her feet, her wings flaring and ruffling in mirror to her emotions. Confusion, and the panic she was denying. First things first. She needed to find out where she was, what had happened. Then she could deal with... everything else. ]

Comments

[Action] HALLO!

[responsibleformyownrisks]

[She would recognize his familiar presence anywhere; it was reassuring in a way that she hadn't expected. But the last time she'd seen him, not moments ago on Azure, she'd been dying. She pressed gentle fingers against the spot on her chest where Magus had shot her during their fight, her fingertips finding no burnt, bleeding blaster wound, just a scar. Kriff... She doesn't like this, doesn't like the confusion and panic and uneasiness that have settled under her skin since arriving here. She feels... lost, in a way that she never has before. Not even during her mission with Krayn, for star's sake.

Seeing him stops her in her tracks, and she stares at him, taking a shuddering, unsteady breath, her throat tight. Although his words earn him a soft, incredulous huff of laughter.]

Obi-Wan.

[Good job, Tachi, you managed his name.]

[Action]

[averybadfeeling]

[If ever there was something that made Obi-Wan uncomfortable, it was seeing Siri Tachi so overwhelmed that she actually showed it.

Not that he could blame her- it had been so long since his first time arriving in Luceti that he'd nearly forgotten how confusing it was. And the gesture toward her chest certainly isn't lost on him- he still remembers seeing that wound, remembers it with astonishing clarity.

That answers that question. Time to try to answer some of hers, if only to calm her down.]

"Listen. There's an explanation. It's long, complicated, and will strain the bounds of credibility, but there is one. First, and most important- you're safe."

[Action]

[responsibleformyownrisks]

[She arches an eyebrow at him.]

I have wings. And I'm not dead. [That she manages to keep her voice steady, to at least sound flippant and matter of fact about something that she is anything BUT, is more remarkable than she'd like. And she would never admit it.] I think the bounds of credibility have already been strained.

['Safe'. That's... something, at least. It doesn't help her sort out what this means for her. What this makes her. Because there isn’t supposed to be life after death. Not like this. She’s not a ghost and she’s not one with the Force. She's alive, with wings, in a strange place, with multiple Force sensitives.

One of which is Obi-Wan.

She huffs a breath, blowing a few loose strands of blonde hair off her face. This is incredibly kriffing odd. But, strangely enough, the oddness is a distraction. It gives her something to focus on. Something OTHER than her sudden return to life.]

What is going on?

[It's not the most important of her questions (those would be 'How am I alive' and other related questions), but it would do to start.]

[Action]

[averybadfeeling]

"You've been brought to another world. After the moment of your death- it's rare, but not unheard of- this world restored you to life and brought you here. In fact, the impermanence of death is one of the peculiarities of this place."

[He wasn't going to bring up the two times he already died earlier this year. No sense in alarming her any further, really.]

"Another is the wings. You may notice they're a bit sore- that will pass in time. What will not pass is their sensitivity to pain. Slight injuries become excruciating. Serious damage to a wing becomes debilitating and induces illness. Removing both is instantly lethal. Be careful of them."

[Action]

[responsibleformyownrisks]

[Well, that explained how she was still alive.] So not staying dead happens on a regular basis. [And not just death that happened before you were brought here. She wasn't sure it helped at the moment, but at least it seemed that she wasn't the only one who was no longer dead.]

[She glances over her shoulder at the wings with a frown, and they ruffled uneasily.] Kriff, like I needed another set of appendages. [This was going to take some getting used to. What did she DO with them? Besides broadcast her emotions to everyone in the kriffing room and die again if they were removed?]

[Action]

[averybadfeeling]

"You get used to them- I scarcely notice them any longer, and as long as I'm wearing my cloak they don't move around much."

[Which reminds him.]

"As for your robes and belongings, I can take you to them. There's a shop of sorts, in the village. Our personal effects arrive when we do- your lightsaber will be there as well, if you're fortunate. There should also be a journal near where you woke, with your name on it. You'll need that."

[Action]

[responsibleformyownrisks]

How long have you been here?

[The questions slips out, because he's talking as though he's been there for some time. Or maybe it just feels like he is. She doesn't know. She doesn't feel like she knows a lot of things, right now.

She nods, turning away from him to search for this journal he's speaking of. It only takes a moment for her to see it, laying on the ground a short distance away. Striding the few steps towards makes her more keenly aware of the fact that, despite the ache from her newly gained wings, she's fine. There's no burning agony in her chest, her back, or the disconcerting numbness of her final moments. It's like she never died at all. Except for the scar on her chest and her memories of it. She kneels to pick up her journal, and watches with a detached sort of curiosity at the unsteadiness of her hand. Clenching it briefly into a fist, she scooped up the journal and turned back to Obi-Wan.]

I'll need it?

[For star's sake, she's been given wings. Being given a journal on top of that should not be the oddest moment of her day. But she would like to know why she would need it. What is it for? Is she supposed to chronicle this resurrection of hers? Kriff, she didn't keep a diary when she was a Padawan, she isn't going to start now.]

[Action]

[averybadfeeling]

"It's a communicator, of sorts. This village can be... technologically limited, but those journals are among the more advanced technology at our disposal."

[And how long he's been here... oh, that's a complicated question.]

"The first time I came here was... roughly two and a half years ago, by the local perspective, but I was sent home last year and returned several months ago. But time can be confusing here. People come from different places and times- even different realities."

[... And he should say it at some point.]

"I arrived from four years after... after Azure."

[After she died, but he's not ready to say those words. Not now. Not in his state.]

[Action]

[responsibleformyownrisks]

[Four years. What had been just moments ago for her had been over four years ago for him. The memories, still raw and fresh (no matter how healed her injuries appear they aren't; her chest, her back, still ache, even though she knows it's impossible) rise unbidden in her mind, and she can't help the flinch, the wince of pain, her hand, the one not curled tightly around her newly acquired journal briefly drift towards the scar on her chest again, until she regains control and forces her hand to drop to her side.]

Kriff, I...

[What does she do with this? What does this make her? There isn't supposed to be life after death. Not like this.]

Four years.

[It's an unnecessary echo, breathed out in more pained a voice than she would have liked. What happened after she died? Does she even want to know?]

[Action]

[averybadfeeling]

[It's not difficult to guess at the direction of her thoughts. He sighs and gestures to follow.]

"We should retrieve your clothing, and I can... summarize what you've missed as we go along."

[... And try not to become emotional. Which wasn't an easy thing anymore.

Blast it all.]

"I suppose I ought to start with the most unpleasant news. Chancellor Palpatine was the Sith Lord responsible for the Clone War."

[He tries to keep his tone matter-of-fact. It's unfortunately not as easy as it ordinarily would have been to keep the hint of pain and anger from coloring his voice.]

[Action]

[responsibleformyownrisks]

[She's only taken a few steps when his words stagger her, and she stares at him, her shock and horror and disbelief painfully visible on her face and reverberating in the Force. That there's a hint of his own pain and anger colouring his voice catches her almost as off guard as his news does, although it's overwhelmed by everything else for the moment.]

What?

[How did they miss that? How, by the Force, could they EVER have missed that? HE was right there the whole kriffing time... and they didn't know. She takes an odd, hitching breath, catching herself against a tree with an unsteady hand and tries to accept what he's told her. Tries to comprehend it.

Tries to BREATHE.]

How did we miss that?

[Action]

[averybadfeeling]

[... Well.

He'd expected the news to be troubling, even upsetting, but he hadn't counted on just how raw her emotions would be- and worse, he'd forgotten that, for him, Palpatine's betrayal was just the capstone in a series of far more horrible revalations.

Blast, Kenobi, you're better than this.]

"... The Dark Side of the Force clouded our perceptions... and Palpatine is one of the most masterful manipulators I've ever heard of. Even when he roused our suspicions, he had a way of keeping us on the wrong path until it was too late."

[Action]

[responsibleformyownrisks]

[For star's sake, Tachi, you're a Jedi. Were a Jedi. Are a Jedi. ACT LIKE IT. But the news that there had been a Sith Lord, the Sith Lord behind the war, right there the entire kriffing time... after her death, and sudden resurrection, the shock and trauma of that, it hits her in the stomach, hard and sharp. Sends her reeling even more than she already is.]

Kriff.

[She's saying that a lot, but Force, it sums up what she's feeling.]

He was right there, and we couldn't sense him. Everything...

[Action]

[averybadfeeling]

"It's easy to blame yourself- I did as well, for a long time- but there was nothing we could have done. Even if we had moved against Palpatine, it only would have hastened the lie he used to seize more power- that the Jedi were plotting a coup."

[He places a hand on her shoulder.]

"There was nothing we could have done, except to minimize the damage done by the war- and that is what we did."

[Action]

[responsibleformyownrisks]

[The physical contact surprises her, and she looks at him, startled. And to her surprise, it reassures her. Makes her feel.. real. Helps the reality of the situation, HER situation, sink in a little. Makes it feel like reality. She looks at him, hesitantly reaching up to cover his hand with her own unsteady one.]

[Action]

[averybadfeeling]

[The touch of her hand brings with it a whole host of emotions he'd been trying very hard not to consider. The pangs of loss, of regret, of guilt. The pain he'd felt. The memory he hadn't considered for so many years of how close he'd come to darkness that day. Of how easy it would have been to strike Magus down in vengeance for what he'd done.

He closes his eyes for a moment, his hand slipping from her shoulder as he tries in vain to will the emotion away, and then opens them again.]

"I apologize if I seem... unsteady. Another souvenir of this world, I'm afraid."

[He sighs and looks away before he continues.]

"Forgive me for being so blunt. I forgot how overwhelming the first moments here can be."

[Action]

[responsibleformyownrisks]

[Her eyes widen a little as she senses it. That's not... she's not used to sensing that much... uncontrolled emotion from him. And that worries her. His words don't help much. Kriff, what does this place DO? She reaches out to him, but she falters before she makes contact, dropping her hand back to her side. Her expression shifts to one he should be familiar with, a combination of exasperation and irritation, faint, but obvious, that he's seen before. Although it's been... a long time, for him.]

You don't have anything to apologise for. And there's nothing to forgive. [She frowns.] What do you mean, another souvenir of this world? [TALK to her, Obi-Wan. Please.]

[Action]

[averybadfeeling]

[Talk to her.

Blast.

On the one hand, given her position, he could understand her concern and frustration, given her position. On the other, she's only just recovered from the last open revelation he shared.

... Might as well give her what she asked for, then.]

"You recall my mentioning that this world brings back those who have died, on occasion."

[He sighs, trying not to think about the memories that thought immediately brings to his mind- a throng of cultists overwhelming him as his Force sensitivity is drained from him, a bomb falling that he's helpless to prevent- the horrible vision from after the first death, that horrible presence, eating away at him, consuming him-

... So much for not thinking about it.]

"Those who are brought here after their death are relatively unharmed- outside, on occasion, of some scar or blemish of their death- but those who die on this world are often brought back... diminished. Some might come back blind, for instance. Others have lost access to their superhuman abilities. Others lose memories. And... apparently, some of us instead lose our trained capacity for emotional control and discipline."

[Action]

[responsibleformyownrisks]

[She regrets her question as soon as she asks it; she should be better than this. It's none of her kriffing business, but something has happened to him and he's her friend, has been her friend for a very long time. Whether she's dead or not. She worries (never mind that she would never say that aloud to anyone, least of all him, and half the time won't admit it to herself). Her stomach turns at what she senses from him. At his words.

He died.

Kriff, he died. This time she doesn't falter in her touching of him, her hand curling gently around his forearm in apology, blue eyes both haunted and horrified.]

[Action]

[averybadfeeling]

[He turns back to meet her gaze as the hand touches his arm. The look on her face is absolutely heartbreaking.]

"Siri... I'm alright. It wasn't so horrible as all that."

[He manages to summon up a faint, weak smile.]

"Don't look at me like that, I beg you."

[Action]

[responsibleformyownrisks]

[There's a part of her that doesn't believe him, that CAN'T, not with what she's picking up from him in the Force. But she tries, offering him a smile that is as faint and as weak as his, laced with apology, her eyes still faintly carrying the heartbreaking expression from before. Her gaze drops, briefly, to where her hand curls around his arm, reassuring herself that he's there, he's there with her, and she squeezes gently, before withdrawing.]

It was... unexpected, that's all.

[Action]

[averybadfeeling]

"Well, I was a bit surprised myself."

[He chuckles at his own joke.]

"Regardless, I simply count myself as fortunate that my emotional restraint is all I lost. I might have lost my connection to the Force altogether, for all I know- but even that wouldn't be permanent, here."

[Action]

[responsibleformyownrisks]

[She shakes her head, the faintest touch of amusement on her face. He's... a far better Jedi than she is; the best she knows. She will never admit that, of course. And she would only tell HIM under threat of death (and maybe not even then). But it's the truth.

She shivers. It seems that this is something she needs to get used to; it appears to be a part of Luceti, and so is she, now. So she should start getting used to the idea.]

Well, I don’t have to –

[And she abruptly changes what she’s going to say. She gives him a wry smile.]

I would rather only one of us experience death first-hand.

[The teasing in her voice is weak, and ruined somewhat by the look in her eyes. Because as simple and… uncomplicated as her death was (judging by what he’s told her of death in Luceti so far), it still had only just happened. And that he’d gone through something… similar, in any fashion, well, she wouldn’t wish that on ANYONE, let alone someone… let alone Obi-Wan.]

[Action]

[averybadfeeling]

"We all do eventually."

[He makes a somewhat dismissive gesture with his hand.]

"What happened to me isn't significant."

[Or at least he'd rather they didn't dwell on it.]

"This is... well, the center of the village. It's not much more than you can see- small, less technologically advanced than what we're used to, sparsely inhabited. It's nearlyat the center of the enclosure, which makes navigation a bit easier."

[Action]

[responsibleformyownrisks]

[It’s easy to fall into familiar habits without much conscious thought, particularly with Obi-Wan. She’s known him a long time. She looks at him.]

Well, obviously. Doesn’t make it any less unpleasant

[Which means it had been, and he doesn’t want to dwell on it. It’s so painfully him that something loosens in her chest at the familiarity of it. It’s still difficult to breathe and she still feels… wrong, uncertain, but maybe, just maybe, it won’t be as overwhelming as it is right now. Not with Obi-Wan there to frustrate her, get on her nerves, and otherwise distract her.

She sighs, softly, fingers unconsciously pressing against the spot on her chest where she’d been shot.]

So. This is where we’re calling home, now.