revivalproject | Open Log [8]

Entry tags:

Open Log [8]

WHO: Altair & Open
WHERE: Hospital, beach, transport station, power plant, & possibly other places
WHAT: Altair's back from walking his anger... Partially off.
WHEN: 22/5 - > to the end of May
WARNINGS: Angry Sith Lord? Will add if anything pops up.

[Hospital (22/5, in the evening)]

Much as he didn't want to return, he kind of had to- after all, he had set up his own little office in one of the rooms, and had kept some of his things there. Not a lot. And maybe things he should have just abandoned, at least until his mood lightened. At least until then.

But no- even if it was just some of his sewing supplies, and the beginnings of a crocheted scarf, he wanted to get them, so he could continue working on them somewhere else.

Somewhere that wasn't the hospital. Somewhere far away from the hospital.

He still felt the need for distance.

Probably would for a while.

[Beach]

It had been a long time since he'd gone out to the beach. He was more used to ruined city or untamed wilderness, even at home. The beach and the ocean, they were something new. Something he hadn't really been able to enjoy. Not that he was necessarily enjoying it now.

He sat on the sand, watching the waves out at sea, listening to the sound of them, and the sound of the wind.

Normally being in nature soothed him completely.

Right now, well. He was half-way soothed at least. The quiet did him some good, sitting in rather a secluded spot.

Perhaps he would meditate. Once he was done just sitting there.

[Transport Station]

When all else fails, go for a change of scenery.

That was what brought him further away from the places he usually went.

It reminded him a little of the stations on Corellia, or perhaps the ones on Iokath, somehow still functioning after the death of the species that had once populated the planet. That reminded him a little of this place, he supposed. Except there was no crypt of billions of dead, no ARIES or rogue droids. No thrones or superweapons.

He wondered if dealing with TYTH and his fellow machine gods was something he'd have to do, once they were all done in this place. Probably.

Perhaps this place just made him nostalgic for being able to travel someplace else. That was something he missed- not just traveling from city to city, but planet to planet too, according to his own whims, rather than someone else's.

RE-1 chirped from where he was examining something, Altair following the scout droid.

Though the place was as in ruins as every other place, he felt his mood lighten just a little.

[Power Plant]

There was no place like home.

And home was where he mostly wanted to stay these days. Though at night, he retired as usual, and spent his time with Hux, he tried to stay out of his boyfriend's hair during the days, unless his presence was specifically requested.

So he wandered the place.

Or meditated outside.

Kept himself occupied some way or another.

[Wildcard]

(want to run into darth sulk somewhere else? go for it. places he might visit include the greenhouse, hotel, the hangar, & the department store.)

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"I know."

He knew. It just seemed so far away. His personal peace most of all. Some part of him wanted to apologize. For getting so upset. For not trying harder to understand Jon's point of view. For being so focused on his own experiences, and the fact that nothing could truly bother or frighten him, without considering someone else's fears, and that not everyone was as sturdy as he was, as powerful.

Of course, he could think that now. When it was much too late to fix anything at all.

He also felt betrayed, and scared, and sad, and his anger was at least partially him being angry with himself.

He worried that his concern for others was some sort of sick self-satisfaction more than a genuine desire to help. He was scared that this might turn him into everything he didn't want to be.

All this time to think wasn't good for him. All these thoughts he kept to himself.

"... I'm sorry for mentioning any part of the Sith code to you at all. I... Can tell that it's..."

Uncomfortable? Scary? Maybe both. He wasn't sure.

If Cal knew Altair's thoughts, he would have said that it wasn't too late. The difficult part was actually making the move to try to make amends, if not bracing for whether it would be reciprocated or not. But at least those people were still here to try to do so. Words were easy to say, advice included. Taking action was the real task, and knowing he had his own issues unresolved, Cal knew better than to push.

"...I never thought about there being a code. Not that I knew very much about the Sith in general. I haven't heard or thought about the Jedi code for a long while either, so hearing that version..." He shook his head. "It was a little unsettling," he admitted.

"Technically speaking, it's more of a vague guideline than a code, I suppose. Plenty of Sith disregard it entirely."

Which was part of why it was so difficult to gain any sort of control over many of their most violent Sith. After all, the Sith code meant different things to different Sith, and there were as many different Sith philosophies as there were Sith.

Of course, Altair loved his people. But he did wish the code couldn't be used as justification to become a monster.

"I can imagine, then. To me, the Sith code is a source of comfort. I know it by heart and meditate on it often. To a Jedi, I imagine the Sith code would sound like the ramblings of a raving madman."

He shook his head, "No matter. Jedi, Sith... It doesn't really mean all that much here."

He sighed then, "Are you okay?"

Cal wondered if perhaps that was why they were not in abundance as it seemed the Sith were in Altair's time. Chaotic followers adhering loosely to chaotic teachings would offer plenty of opportunity for disaster.

"It probably depends on how one looks at it," he replied. Naturally there was a tiny part of him that was curious as to how exactly this Sith code went, but he was pretty sure he wouldn't like what he'd hear.

"No, it doesn't really matter here," he instead agreed. "...yeah, I'm okay. Just trying to keep busy."

"All any of us can do, I suppose," Altair said, "Guess I'm going to need to figure out where to go from here."

Not the hospital. Not back to the greenhouse.

Something would come to him, he supposed. He couldn't stay idle forever. Had to make himself useful, had to do something. Stagnation was death, and life was always moving forward. Some way or another.

All this time to think, the quiet, it... Was something he wasn't used to.

He almost missed the war.

Almost.

"Can't become dead weight, after all."

"At least there's no shortage of things that need to be done around here." Finding the drive to do it was often the problem over finding something to do at all.

Cal was of the same mind when it came to the alternative- far too much time to think and his mind would just run circles on the things he'd been forced to leave behind for the moment. Sometimes he could pretend it was fine, not have to worry about it right this instant. But he knew that it would be something he'd have to face, whether here or back where he was supposed to be.

"...you're sure you're all right with this? Moving on from the hospital?"

"I suppose not, no."

Things had been quiet for a while though, and it made things difficult. He didn't know what to do with the free time, didn't really know what to do with peace and downtime. He was so used to going from one crisis to the next, that this was unfamiliar territory.

Of course, he had no wish for chaos- there were too many vulnerable people here for him to wish for that.

But something.

He didn't know what.

"... I'm not. But if I can't understand others, empathize with them, understand where they're coming from... If I only consider my experiences and what I personally can handle... Then I don't belong there."

He was still angry and upset. But he'd thought about it. He'd come to a conclusion.

"If anyone gets hurt, or sick... They deserve better than what I can give them right now."

Cal shook his head. "You already sound like you know what's to be expected, and what's needed. That's more than most might consider. But you're aware of the things you struggle with, and your limitations. It's not an easy thing to admit."

Altair's decision was a respectable one. He hoped others would see it as such.

"So far as I know, I don't think anyone here has specialized in the medical field. It doesn't seem like the Agrii have thought that through when they brought people here, or they just figured that having spheres that could provide relevant information would be enough. So I don't think you're any more or less qualified than anyone else, not when you made a decision to help where you thought it would be needed."

"If there's a crisis, maybe I'll go running back. For now though, I'm going to stay away."

There had to be something he was suited to, even here. But it wasn't the hospital. It wasn't the greenhouse, either. They had enough people. The power plant was Hux's area of expertise, and he didn't want to intrude on the work that was important to Hux.

There was no place for scholars here, or archaeologists, or even political games. So none of the things he knew from home were viable.

Maybe the answer would come to him. Or maybe, he'd just have to pick something and stick with it regardless of whether or not it was something he enjoyed. Just to keep busy.

"Honestly though, do you think the Agrii have thought any of this through?"

"Hopefully there's no crisis, but if there is, I don't think anyone will have time to think." Nor object. People either panicked or took action, and Altair didn't come off as one to do the former.

"...I have no idea what to think about the Agrii or their methods. I can't help but be a little wary of them. They may have sincere needs, but there's just so many questions and so limited input from them."

"I'd say the storm was one, which is why I ended up in the hospital in the first place. Before then, I worked in the greenhouse."

Up until then, he hadn't wanted to work anywhere else- and he'd been worried about food. He still was, though trusted Eli and everyone else to make sure that no one would end up starving to death. Fighting his instinct to hoard any source of food was something he still did, even so many years after leaving being a slave behind.

"Being a bit wary of them is a good idea. I certainly don't think they're as innocent as they present themselves as. Or if they are, they have a poor way of showing it. How many people here are truly equipped to handle the storms..."

He sighed. With the first storm suppressing all powers too. Seemed to him that the Agrii didn't mind if any of them ended up dying for them.

"Worries for another day, regardless. Not like we can give them a piece of our minds right now."

Cal wasn't going to argue that point. The storm was a fair crisis. They had little to go on and were not at all prepared for what it could do. "I'm glad you did. After what happened out there, we definitely needed someone at the hospital."

He knew he wasn't the only one who didn't trust the Agrii, but at the most they could only be careful whenever the Agrii did or offered anything. The only ones that were truly concerned about their collective well-being was probably themselves.

"Yeah... Not that they've given us much choice in that."

"We did."

He didn't really want to talk about it now, so said nothing more on the subject.

"True... One day though, that might change."

And Altair certainly had words when that happened. But it was neither here nor there right now. Instead he sighed, and shook his head, "No reason to get worked up over it now, anyway. Instead, I have a question for you."

It wasn't a matter Cal had meant to revisit on purpose, and he was quick to leave it at that.

The Agrii was another subject that they could only go over so much, and no real ground could be gained without their direct interaction, yet another thing he let lapse for sake of practicality. He nodded at Altair, however pausing as the other addressed him.

"Oh?" he prompted, glancing at the Chiss again.

"It's a somewhat weird question, I suppose... I have Force-sensitive friends. At home. But there's never really been a good time to ask..."

Altair was pretty lousy at hiding his emotions. His veil had done most of the job for him, when he was younger. It had hid his expressions away, making him difficult to read. But he was still curious.

"When you sense my presence, my mind, what does it feel like? Like a Chiss? Or just like a fellow Force-sensitive keeping you out?"

There were a few more Chiss around- and Altair experienced their presence as great big blanks. So he was curious if he felt the same.

Cal waited then, growing curious himself about the question that Altair had for him. It was an interesting one indeed, not exactly something he'd found himself asked by even his fellow Jedi, not that he'd such company in some time.

"I think I'm still getting acclimated to the presence of Chiss," he admitted. He'd never met any before here, and now there were several that he could actually start to work out the subtleties. "Honestly though, I sense you as a fellow Force-wielder. Different than those I've come across recently. It's...kind of difficult to describe. Concentrated? But other than that I don't try to push too deeply."

"I see. Guess I shouldn't be surprised. My species, apparently, are very good at keeping other people out. But I didn't grow up in the Ascendancy, so..."

No wonder he was different.

Every other Chiss at home felt closed off, and it was the same for Thrawn and the other Chiss here too, though that one, he'd only seen and sensed from a distance.

Still, this was a good a subject to focus on as any- something that wasn't the hospital, or the frustration that was their situation with the Agrii.

"Sith have to be good at it though, in their own way. Of course, my mind isn't entirely my own, either."

It was an interesting thing to know. Cal wondered if perhaps there were somewhere some Chiss Force-sensitives in his own time. There seemed no reason not to be, but perhaps they were at least safe from the Empire if their people were even a rarity then.

Cal nodded. "I hadn't thought too much about the need to do so until I had to go into hiding. And then it became more than just keeping others out. It was burying everything I was, distancing myself from everything I'd learned." His lips twitched in a flicker of a smile. "It was difficult getting back to the level I'd been at, but those are the lessons you don't completely forget."

He swiveled a look towards Altair, brow lifting at the mention of the Chiss's state of mind. "How's that?"

"I'm sorry you had to go through that."

And he didn't mention that the Jedi back home were going through something similar. After the war with Zakuul, the Jedi- what was left- had withdrawn to the ancient world of Ossus. The Sith Empire had pursued. Mutated, turbo-charged, psychotic Genonosians, a member of the Dark Council creating those twisted creatures to attack the Jedi in the first place, Darth Malgus back from the dead, and then him.

There was a lot there to unpack sometime, but not to Cal. He didn't need to hear it. He'd suffered enough in his own time, and Altair wouldn't add to that by speaking of the state of the war at home.

"I told you about the ghosts, I think. One of them stayed with me. Though he hasn't spoken to me in some time... There was four once. And then Valkorion, though he's gone."

There was another thing to unpack at some later date.

It still hurt to think of what was lost, but for a while the thought of being able to restore the Order had been a good distraction. If there was any reason Cal didn't look forward to going back, it was because he wasn't sure where he was at, or if he was ready to pick back up at things. Dealing with failure was still a thing he wrestled with.

The ghosts, he recalled something of that, and so he nodded, although from his expression he seemed uncertain about whether having that many minds in your head was all a good thing. Confusing, surely. "Force-users?" he asked. They had to be strong to maintain their presence, or at least that seemed to make the most sense to him.

"Yeah. Sith don't become one with the Force when they die. They just... Fade, I suppose. Or remain bound to their tombs until someone wakes them up."

Servant of Ergast. Darth Andru. Kalatosh Zavros. Horak-Mul. All angry in death. They'd gone back, most of them. Though Horak-Mul remained, refusing to return to his tomb on Hoth. Altair couldn't blame him- he wouldn't want to go back to Hoth either.

"It's a scary thought."

And part of the reason why he'd tried really hard to change. Not hard enough, apparently. If his anger was anything to go by. If his lack of empathy was anything to go by. He'd become bound the same as them, it seemed.

The thought made Cal wince. "That's...terrible." It was a sad thought, that perhaps such Sith were so tainted in the dark side that they couldn't so simply return to the Force. He wasn't sure how it worked. But being bound after death didn't seem very ideal an existence either.

He could only nod his agreement; it was a scary thought, and he hoped that Altair could be spared such a fate. Was there a point when it was considered simply 'too late'?

"Seems like all I can do today is lead us into morbid topics."

The Sith Code. Ghosts. And a whole host of dead Sith Lords.

He shook his head, "What have you been keeping yourself busy with?"

That was a better thing to talk about. Or rather, let Cal talk about. If he only listened and responded, it would be easier to avoid any more topics they shouldn't be discussing in the first place.

"Not on purpose," Cal replied, snorting a little in partial laugh. He didn't blame Altair in the least. In any case, at least it was a turn from other matters.

"Oh, mostly the same I've been. Exploring, scavenging. In the mornings I do some training in the amphitheater, just to keep in practice." And ready, in the case that something happened. They might not be able to fight storms, but being prepared was better than not.

"We've also been trying to figure out possible toys to put together for the kids around here- the Mandalorian's? And Sansa's. I have no idea what they'd find interesting though, and I'm not really versed in making stuffed animals." He grinned a little as he shrugged.

"I'm pretty good at that, so long as I have the materials. I crochet and knit, too."

Embroidery, crochet, knitting. All hobbies that most Sith wouldn't bother with. But Altair had always liked them, and was pretty good, too. He was the most skilled when it came to embroideries, though genuinely enjoyed the other two as well.

"I already made something for Sansa's child, though I wouldn't mind making more in general."

His schedule was looking rather open, after all.

Open Log [8]

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