revivalproject | Open Log [7]

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Open Log [7]

WHO: Altair Kallig & Open
WHERE: Somewhere on the outskirts of the city
WHAT: A certain conversation made the Sith Lord angry and Sith Lord's gonna Sith Lord.
WHEN: Backdated to sometime before sunrise at the beginning of May.
WARNINGS: Mentions of xenophobia, slavery. Also, a very pissed off Sith Lord. Will update if more pops up.

Maybe it was stupid to let those words affect him as much as they did. Maybe it was stupid that his anger hadn't dissipated at all since then, burning in him the same way it had when he'd been younger. Maybe he should just quietly deal with it, bury his rage deep to draw on later, but... To him, to deny using someone's name was the same as denying that they were a person.

And though logically, he understood that this situation was different, to have someone refuse to call him by name because they thought he didn't deserve it, even without knowing the sort of person he was, having that done, said, it... Made every instance of that exact treatment play in the back of his mind. All the people calling him a slave, who saw him as an item to be bought and sold, or who saw a filthy alien who didn't know his place, instead of a thinking, feeling person.

He knew it wasn't about that. He knew it logically, but feelings weren't exactly logical.

No matter his pacing, no matter what he did or where he went, his anger wouldn't settle.

So eventually he'd trekked out to the edge of Temba, sometime before the sun came up, the sky still relatively dark. If a conversation with Hux, pacing, and trying to deny that he was angry wouldn't settle his rage, then perhaps some destruction would.

He found some buildings that looked about ready to come down already, and with an angry swipe of a hand, used the Force, shattering every window that had still been intact, the glass raining down on the ground below- another swipe was enough to collapse half of one building, the sound of creaking and twisting metal shrieking, rubble and dust hitting the street. Another tug had the building coming down entirely.

The Sith paced with every use of the Force, another aggressive tug bringing another building partially down, Force lightning creeping up the crumbling walls, shattering more glass.

Yes, this was a good way to work some energy out. Even if perhaps there would be questions and calls to his comm, and maybe a few people coming his way to see what was going on.

This was still preferable to letting his anger linger any longer.

(OOC: Feel free to blow up his communicator with messages of "Wtf Altair???" or trek out to him, he'll be there a while!)

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The distant rumbling and rising cloud of smoke caused Billy to wake in alarm, and while he was still recovering from his big show of magic, Billy teleported out to the source of the destruction, ready to take on whatever threat might be facing the city.

That anxious, determined face turned to one of confusion when he found the source, lowering to the ground with a muttered, "What the hell?"

He gestured back to the building. "Did you do that?"

The sudden arrival of someone else came as a bit of a surprise, though he didn't stop pacing about, his anger having lessened, though he could still feel it there, eating away at him. He didn't like that- he didn't like being angry, and he didn't like that it lingered so long.

"It was."

He crossed his arms, still moving about, "What of it?"

"..." Billy certainly didn't expect such an easy and non-apologetic acceptance, blinking a little in surprise at the return.

"I thought someone was attacking the city. Or-...that someone was hurt. You can't just-...what if someone had been in there?"

"Then I apologize for startling you."

Guilt, but just a little. For the most part, his restlessness and anger was still more prominent over the guilt. He thought he'd been far enough out that it wouldn't be so easily heard, or noticed.

Though now that he thought of it, in the silence of the town, perhaps it had been louder than he thought.

"There isn't, and wasn't. I can sense the presence of others, and made sure the buildings were empty. It's not like I want to hurt anyone."

"Okay well...you wanna explain the pre-dawn construction then?" Billy asked with an exasperated sort of look, finally releasing some of the tension from his shoulders. "From my experience people don't just go around tearing down building for no reason."

"Not particularly, no... It's..." Stupid, "Personal."

Stupid, but personal, was a good description of it. But with everything that needed to be done in the very near future, he much preferred working his anger out now to letting it linger, or fester. He supposed, deep down, a merciful Sith like himself was still a Sith at the end of the day.

He hadn't really considered that.

"Not the best way to deal with anger, I know, but..."

"Stupid is right. And I think personal kind of went out the window when you blew up part of the city." He's seen the sort of damage a powerful person with an anger problem can deal; he lived in NYC, he'd met the Hulk.

"We're supposed to be fixing this place, not tearing it apart."

He deserved that.

"Somehow I don't think the Agrii brought us here to repair their buildings."

The storms on the other hand, they were there to fix.

"... Besides, the buildings were about ready to fall anyway. That's why I chose them."

He was angry, but he wasn't blinded by anger. He didn't want to hurt anyone, or do damage to buildings that could become homes. There was a reason why he'd trekked far from where people usually went, and gone for buildings one stiff wind away from falling on their own.

Sighing deeply, he stopped pacing and looked up at the sky instead, "I don't intend to hurt anyone, you know. Not even by accident."

"That doesn't make it okay," Billy argued, "You can't just...tear things apart when you're upset. That's not healthy. Or safe."

For Altair or the other residents, however convinced he was he didn't want to hurt people.

"I know it's not a healthy outlet. I know, I just..."

He shook his head, with a deep sigh, swiping a hand through his hair to push it out of his face. It was stupid. It wasn't like he didn't know that.

It was dangerous. He knew that too.

It was unhealthy. He knew.

"Lost my temper. Whatever you may believe about me, I don't actually lose it that often. But I think you'd be angry too, if someone suggested you lack empathy."

"Don't take this the wrong way, but uh...knocking down some buildings may not be the best way to make someone believe otherwise," Billy noted, arching a brow. "I dunno if I'm really the right person to do the whole 'with great power' talk, but...you have to know you'd be freaking out if our places were switched, right?"

"I know."

He knew both of those things, both that this rage wasn't helpful, and that he'd been concerned had someone else decided to take their anger out like this. He knew it all.

"I don't think I have anything to prove to him though. If he wants to think that I am without care for others, he's welcome to do so. He just... Pushed every button he could, is all. Not intentionally, I know..."

Emotions weren't logical. His anger wasn't.

And he was winding down some, now.

"I'm calmer now. Slightly. I'm sorry."

"Hey, look, you wanna talk sometime when you haven't torn a building down, I'm around, I think I've made that offer before now. But you start lashing out and I have to go hero mode. And frankly- if you don't think you have anything to prove this is a pretty big damn reaction."

Billy's calm, but firm, almost shadowing his parents or Cap during a lecture.

"Maybe you should talk this out with whoever upset you instead of letting it eat away at you, mm? You said it wasn't intentional, so...seems like the adult thing to do would be to hash things out."

"I'd rather jump out an airlock naked."

The response was rather immediate, and very much showed that he wasn't as old as one might think from the way he usually acted, nor as mature.

"I said him pushing my buttons wasn't intentional. Him being a jerk was."

Given the relative peace of the ruined city and its sparse residence, the sudden spike of activity reverberated through the Force like a pebble tossed into a still pond.

Cal had woken up with a start, clawing through the stubborn dredges of sleep and fragmented dreams only to find that what he'd sensed wasn't merely some uneasy remnant of bad memories. BD-1 had hurried over, and without question had taken up his usual place upon the padawan's back once Cal had made himself ready to head out.

He jogged through the empty streets, and by now the sounds were quite clear that even without the Force he could have tracked the point of origin. But what had happened to Altair? It seemed a little late to be worrying about whether it was a good idea to even go running out to meet an angry Sith Lord, but even with the thought crossing his mind then, Cal kept on his path of intention.

"Altair..?" he called out once he was close enough, sensing the Sith around the side of a building, or at least what remained of it. The rubble strewn to the side seemed like a relatively new addition.

By the time Cal reached him, most of the destruction was already over, and a few buildings had been reduced to rubble.

Most of Altair's anger had been soothed away- or perhaps, he'd simply buried it even deeper. Some remained on the surface- though it could be called irritation at most- as he sat on a bit of broken wall, looking up at the sky, hoping that that too would drain away.

The padawan's approach pulled his attention, somewhat later than he'd normally notice him.

"I suppose I shouldn't be surprised about you being here. Even if the sound hadn't carried further than I had expected it to..."

Well, it didn't need to be said. Much as he would notice someone else lashing out with the Force, surely Cal had to have sensed him doing it, especially in a place like this where there was only them.

"I apologize if I woke you."

"It's an empty place and a lot of things to echo off of," Cal shrugged, the briefest flicker of a smile crossing his face at the apology. He shook his head. "Was better I woke up anyway."

He looked around now that he was in better view of both Altair and the resulting from his anger. It was a rather sobering sight, if not a clear reminder that the Chiss was very much the Sith he claimed to be. It wasn't completely gone, the anger, but it seemed that Altair had gotten it under control.

BD-1 peered about from his own position behind the padawan, letting out a soft hoot as he took in the damage.

"...what happened?" Cal finally asked, glancing back at Altair.

"Spoke to someone new," Altair admitted, not quite sure why, exactly, but not so hesitant that he'd stop himself from speaking, "Someone you know. The moron who decided to try to ride the glownies. He spoke about you. And we got to talking... About the Sith, too..."

He sighed heavily, closing his eyes, "I'm the last person who will deny that the Sith as they are, as I know them, are bad... Murderous lunatics, most of them... But the Empire I know... There's more than Sith there, Cal. There are kind people, too. Specks of light in between the darkness, and the light flourishing even in the Empire... I saw that, and I considered it worth protecting..."

Cal didn't know the Empire Altair knew. But Altair knew that he knew stories about the Sith, and what the Sith were like. And he wouldn't deny that many were the stuff of nightmares, so focused on war, on crushing the galaxy beneath their heel.

That wasn't what he had seen though. Not all of it.

"I wanted to be a guiding hand, to lead the Empire to a better tomorrow. I believed that a rational Empire is a peaceful one. But this man judged me the same as every average Sith, made up his mind about me based on words, not actions..."

He shook his head. He was saying entirely too much.

"After a display like this though, I'm sure he'll feel justified in his belief that I don't have a shred of empathy. And that I don't deserve to be called by name. I'm not sure which one of those bothered me the most. The lack of empathy thing or the fact that his refusal to use my name made every single cry of slave or filthy alien I've heard thrown my way replay in the back of my mind."

A pause then, "I know logically that that isn't what it's about, by the way. The name thing, at least."

It was the detail about the glownies that really helped Cal narrow down whom Altair meant. He winced a little at that. The man in question wasn't a bad guy, at least from his first meeting with him, but Tony Stark certainly had a personality different from many he was used to dealing with. Here was a man who did what he wanted and if he wasn't simply being careless, he did know how to be flippant.

Cal said nothing to prompt Altair further, only nodding faintly, acknowledgment that he knew of whom the Sith was talking about. He listened, giving the other time to just speak.

"...Altair, you've proven to me that Sith don't have to act like they're renowned for. It may not speak for all the Sith, but it speaks for you. I'm hardly claiming to be an expert, but I know tapping into the dark side is a choice, and everything you do can either reflect that or not. But just because you got upset doesn't make you one any more or any less a person."

He stepped closer, willing to give the Chiss his space if he wanted, but seeking out the end of the shattered wall to lean against.

"I'm sorry that whatever conversation you had with Tony went the way it did. But if he doesn't think to give you a chance or respect you as a person just because he's suddenly been given information about Sith, then that's his mistake. Not yours."

"I know..."

He knew. He did. If someone wanted to judge him the same as his people, if someone didn't think he deserved to be called by name just because of what they'd been told about the Sith, then that wasn't on him. But it had just hit on sore spots that he apparently still had, even so long after escaping slavery.

Altair should probably work on that, or at least, bury those feelings even deeper. Losing his temper wasn't a good look.

"Thank you for listening, Cal. I didn't mean to place this burden on you, just as I didn't mean to wake you, but... I'm grateful. Truly."

Cal glanced over at Altair and shook his head as he gave him a faint smile. "Glad to be able to do something, at least. You're a good person, Altair. Don't let anyone make you think otherwise."

It might have been troubling to experience a Sith letting loose with his temper, but if anything, keeping it in seemed more dangerous to the padawan than not. Altair had purposely come out to somewhere empty to vent his frustrations. That was a lot better than directly taking out his anger on the person responsible, or anyone else that might just happen to be in the wrong place. That already spoke much of the Sith's control of himself, as well as his remorse for even lashing out as he had.

"A Sith gets a reputation for being good, he loses all respect. I think I said that to Ashara once. That's her name- the Jedi who's walked at my side as I have at hers. I'd turn that statement on you, but... No image for me to uphold here."

He smiled, just a little.

His and Ashara's paths had parted for a time, but. They'd joined again. And he missed her, here. He missed others too, but Ashara had always been the one he could talk to.

"I think you'd like her. She's... Not quite a Jedi any more, I think. But she's finding her own way. I respect that."

He shook his head, "And that's me being nostalgic. Stars I'm getting old."

That was a joke. A change of subject would do them some good though.

There was a brief pang of wistfulness for his time back in the Temple, or alongside his master. Back when the Jedi were numerous and they didn't have to hide for fear of their lives.

Cal wondered at a time when the Sith and Jedi were so commonplace in the Republic, in the galaxy as they knew it. He'd heard enough from Altair to know that that period was hardly without its conflict, but how different would it must have been compared to the galaxy he knew now.

"Heh. If being nostalgic makes you old then I must be ancient," Cal laughed.

The sound echoes far enough to wake Wanda with a start. She knows that noise all too well and in that second between waking and opening her eyes, she almost thinks she is back in Sokovia.

She's not, but this place isn't safe either, so she throws on enough clothes to be able to go out and rushes out onto the streets of Temba. Flight is faster than running and so she speeds through the air until she reaches-- not an invading army, not some manifestation of the Storm (despite the lightning), but Altair.

She lands in a cloud of scarlet energy a safe distance away from the recently felled building - the idea of being trapped again terrifies her, even if she isn't so helpless anymore. And in case there's danger, she doesn't dismiss her power. "What are you doing? What happened?"

He sensed fear long before he saw her, before he heard her- he thought he was far enough out that the sound wouldn't carry to where people were sleeping, or maybe just waking up, but apparently he was wrong. Perhaps, if he feels the need to lash out in anger again, he should trek into the wilderness entirely.

His ire was still very much there- though he'd stopped lashing out.

After all, this was not intended to harm anyone, even accidentally. That was why he'd traveled so far, made sure there was no one around who could be hurt.

"I'm... Working through some personal issues, I suppose. Thought I was far enough out to not startle anyone."

"Sleep and I are not friends. And this is...not an unfamiliar sound." But this time, thankfully, no one's been hurt. She can sense that much, even if she can't really understand the impulse. Wanda's powers have accidentally lashed out before, but she's tried to avoid relying upon them to work through her emotions. That seems like the path to dark things, or being viewed as dangerous and unstable.

"Normally people find a punching bag, not tear down a building. What happened?"

"Then I am more sorry to have put you through it than I already was," Altair said, because a sound like that it wasn't pleasant. And to be used to it, shattering glass, falling debris, twisting metal- that could only be a bad memory.

"I guess I'm being childish... I shouldn't be this angry... I shouldn't have let it linger so long... But..."

It's not much, by any stretch of the imagination. He supposed it just managed to hit places that that still lacked defense. Bad memories that felt like they happened yesterday, even if the truth was they happened long ago.

"Well, feelings aren't logical."

Bad memories, actually. Wanda gestures and floats a large slab of concrete over to them, half to serve as a makeshift bench and half to remind herself that her instinctive dread is misplaced. She is not a powerless child anymore.

"They're not." Her lingering unease is proof enough of that. "But maybe you should talk to someone about it instead of tearing down the city."

Her tone is light - it doesn't have to be her, but it's clear he needs a healthier outlet.

"Technically speaking I did. The feelings just continued to linger, is all."

He'd been hurt. Altair hadn't been aware that there were parts of himself that were still fragile as glass and that his peace of mind could be so easily shattered. Lashing out had just been the easiest way to work those feelings out.

"I feel better now, though. It's okay if you don't believe me, but it's actually pretty rare for me to lash out like this."

He couldn't remember the last time he lashed out so violently- at least, not for his own sake. He'd been plenty violent toward those who tried to hurt his people, but was usually less concerned for himself.

Edited 2020-05-10 11:07 (UTC)

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Open Log [7]

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