Ezra Bridger (
ezra_of_lothal) wrote in
deercountry2022-07-07 07:52 pm
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[July catchall] There's no safe place, no sanctuary
Who: Ezra Bridger
ezra_of_lothal and you!
What: a july catch-all with various semi-open starts
When: Post-boatgate, mid Chara's rampage, and the rest of the month
Where: Centered around Cassandra, but could be anywhere
Content Warnings: Violent death, grief, hauntings. May be updated here and have cws in thread subject lines
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What: a july catch-all with various semi-open starts
When: Post-boatgate, mid Chara's rampage, and the rest of the month
Where: Centered around Cassandra, but could be anywhere
Content Warnings: Violent death, grief, hauntings. May be updated here and have cws in thread subject lines
Open to those likely to sense Ezra's death (baby's first fatality)
Yet the sheer amount of physical pain and then the flicker of prescience that informs him that this particular end point is inevitable, now; it's still a surprise.
Ezra gathers what remains of his will to send out the into the Force a wave of...not regret exactly. He doesn't regret putting himself in between unarmed humans and a Sleeper bend on slaughtering them. Apology, nonetheless, that he wasn't smarter or faster. That whatever happens next, even if he reincarnates quickly and easily, that he won't be present, for a while.
He hopes it's only for a while. There are no guarantees.
And then his consciousness snuffs out.]
funeral | ota (cw: death, grief, funerary rites)
He doesn't know how long it is before he drapes his outer robe over the body (not Ezra, no longer Ezra). Under the numbness his logical mind is still going.
Dry wood. Kindling. Incense.
As if in response to his mental checklist, the rain starts to fall up instead of down as he carries Ezra's body to a more out-of-the-way area of Cassandra. There's no sense in alarming people, no need for a public display. He thinks he should call someone but he doesn't. He's as single-minded as a broken droid now.
Dry wood. Kindling. Incense.
He searches for wood and kindling. Finding anything dry is nearly impossible now, but he tries. He stacks the wood like he's solving one of his 3D puzzles. He tucks kindling in it. He levitates Ezra's body to the top of the pyre. He hesitates only a moment before lighting the pyre.
His corner of the Trench feels wrong. Broken prayers fall from numb lips and rain falls up as his friend's pyre burns down. ]
sorry for the lateness!
and the world doesn't end even when it should.
his hands go to his chest, fingers tightening over the material. he rouses himself, half-awake, half-asleep, chasing where it ends. where the world should end. but obi-wan already knows he'll find nothing. that he'll stand there and there will be nothing.
he's done this before.
obi-wan manages to stp himself, leaning against a lamp-post heavily. his breathing comes out in short staccato gasps. failure burns through his body and saps at his strength. he failed another. he failed a padawan. his in a way, even his heart wavers to say it.
he shifts from the lamppost to wander the town of trench. searching like a ghost. he'll find nothing, but he has to try and fail. ]
Re: sorry for the lateness!
Ezra's omen often wanders far from him, and is rarely one for words, even with her other half. She's intent and focused right now, though, as comes to Obi-wan's feet and stretches up on her hind legs to hold out Ezra's lightsaber.]
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he takes it anyway. ]
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Semi-open: The Beginning of Haunting
It takes a while for his consciousness to coalesce enough to think of himself as being present in any particular space. Even then he feels...ephemeral. As if when he loses focus, he'll disappear again.
It's about that point when those with the right sorts of abilities might spot him, as a blue tinted, gauzy figure that fades in and out of view. By some measure of luck, he looks like himself otherwise, at least.
Getting acclimated to this state of existence, however, is an entirely different story.
[OOC: Willing to play fast and loose for any particular character to interact with Ezra in Force Ghost form, and what they specifically perceive but definitely Paleblood, necromancers, and character with spirit related powers make sense to me as those able to easily sense him. Feel free to come with scenarios where he might be spotted, especially has he little control at first. If you want a more specific prompt, hit me up at
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Talwyn's cleaning his house at the moment, sweeping the floor, when he senses it. Like a whisper in his ear, or a brush across the back of his neck. He pauses and looks around. Did a ghost from his world follow him here?
"Who's there?"
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Once he's focuses enough to register who called out, Ezra finds that he's not surprised.
Maybe Talwyn will be able to help somehow? If he's inclined. Ezra honestly doesn't believe the self-proclaimed Sith defaults to maliciousness, but that doesn't mean he won't act in a self-servicing way, much less have some sort of pity for the weaken spirit of a half trained Jedi.
After struggling for a moment to try to hold onto this moment, and remember how words work, he replies, not certain at all that he'll be heard - or whether it will be more auditory or mental communication.
"It's Ezra."
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When he hears the voice, more in his head than aloud, his eyes widen. "Ezra?" Any sense of relief that it's the Jedi and not a vengeful Sith is immediately swept away by the implication. If he's sensing a ghost and hearing Ezra, then... "Are you dead? How? When?"
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Location: Feed, Gaia's Home
Restoration has been recent and furniture is almost non-existant in most rooms. Even though the teenager has been branching out into other rooms of the home, the kitchen; where she had started her shelter in this place and spent so much time when the rest of the dwelling was.... not exactly great (honestly condemned was probably a good way to describe it), is where thoughts and feelings and general life is still most imprinted.
Maybe that is what drew Ezra. Maybe not. But since Gaia is seated at the very sturdy table that serves as an eating and work space focal point besides a broad cooking hearth, maybe the presence of an actual person has something to do with it too.
The teen is bent over a journal. Obviously a journal with a lot of writing already present and a blank page waiting for more. Is writing 'translated' by Trench's power? Her script certainly isn't native to the world. But if Ezra can discern it, she seems to be writing down something about her memories of the day.
"I don't mind if you look at the other journal, D. But this one's considerably more private." Gaia hasn't looked up. But she's presuming the vague presence of someone she's sensing is the dhampir semi-houseguest that's been showing up a little more frequently of late. She sounds a touch exasperated but at least she's not too angry about it. Probably because she trusts this 'D' will back off until she's finished and comes to find him.
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He's not quite sure where he is. He squints at the young woman, although that's silly; he doesn't even really have eyes right now.
"Gaia?"
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She twists, she raises a hand and quickly attempts to lift and push Ezra telekinetically via the gift of Darkblood. Whether this is going to work on a spiritual form, especially one so intermittently present as Ezra's is debatable.
Thankfully it's not backed up by her native skillset, which is far more effective even on the noncorporeal.
Clearly she is a little bit startled to have a visitor suddenly appear in her home. In fairness, given Trench's nature her reaction is very reasonable; and probably tame in comparison to a strike-first-ask-later mentality.
It does occur after she strikes that the manifestation called her by name. But wait that's not necessarily a good thing. Still the confusion gives her pause even while she's standing up with the intention take a less vulnerable stance.
"Ezra?" That nice fellow that she's spoken to on the Omni a couple of times? Concern over an intruder wars with the memory of friendly conversation. Well, if he didn't mean any harm hopefully her impulsive use of telekinesis didn't affect him that much.
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But it's the eyes that tell the real story. Maul's sanity has left and won't be returning anytime soon. Maul talks to himself, or rather, to a very familiar hallucination that isn't really there. "Yes, I have done your will....they are all dead....no, of course, I will never fail you, I am always loyal...."
He stops suddenly as he looks up, blinking at the rays of light coming in through the cracks of the rubble. He sees Ezra's ghost but there's no recognition in Maul whatsoever, too caught up in the madness that has gripped his mind. He hisses and draws further back into the darkness. "They always come, yes, they always do, but I still will not fail, no, not at all...."
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He watches for a while. This must be pretty deep corruption, and it saddens him, in a muted way.
Eventually, he tries to get Maul's attention. To make himself a little more solid and speak.
"Sidious isn't here, Maul."
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He's still talking to the phantom of Sidious only be can see when Ezra comes up. "No, no, your will is done.....it will all be done....yes, I am loyal, always loyal...."
Surprisingly, he seems to understand what Ezra is saying, at least well enough to acknowledge the Jedi, his scattered focus coalescing for a moment as he realizes someone else is there. However, he doesn't seem to be aware that Ezra's a Force Ghost right now. "Always there, always....always in here." He clutches the sides of his head up by his horned temples, the anguish of the last word revealing how much torment he's in right now.
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cw: cannibalism
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As the month goes on, Anakin finds himself staying home more and more often. His duties to the Sanctuary and to the Orphanage are all but forgotten, and he even starts to withdraw from his family. In all the chaos, Anakin is easy to lose track of. Predictably, corruption has started to set in. His house is full of old half-burned sticks of incense and a few open jars of preserves that he's tried to eat.
Anakin is meditating in the same spot where he'd made the network post only a few weeks ago. But this time he's not focused, his healthy complexion has taken on a sickly gray undertone, and his dark hair has lost its luster.
He doesn't see Ezra at first, or even sense him. He seems a million miles away right now.
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Immediately, the feel of the house is...wrong.
"Anakin, buddy, you're not looking so good," he murmurs, half to himself, wondering if he can make himself actually heard.
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(If he's waiting for anyone else, with a cold, crushed splinter laid along his spine, he doesn't think about it.)
The blur at the edge of his vision reminds him of a shield, at first. It shimmers in the air and vanishes when he turns to look at it, and if he wasn't acutely aware of where he is, he might have dismissed it. Instead, he adds it to what he watches for, in his focus-without-focus observance of his surroundings. It flickers a few more times, each dissipating before he can identify what it is - until, at last, it coheres.
"Ezra?" He asks, in surprise but not shock, looking up from where he crouches next to a tide pool.
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And then realizes that, in fact, he can't actually being doing that. Just...mimicking physical reactions, which is so weird to think about.
"...you can see me?" he finally asks, still surprised.
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Who is there?
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It feels like it would be the most natural thing in the world to use to communicate, now.
But no, he won't, even now. Instead, he tries to focus on being present. To be as solid as he can be, and push words out into the space around him.
He's not sure how well it will work. How any of this works.]
Just me, Obi-wan.
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When he locates the Archives, in he goes. There are a few things he wanted to look up about his new patron and the first Sleeper. Inside there's a lot to question about the place, the artifacts, the order of the books, the general maze of it all.
Among the rows of shelves and tomes, his senses are a bit wobbly with all those bones, and death things on display like a museum. It's why he doesn't quite realize there's a ghost around the next corner, stopping Nico in his tracks at the sight. He looks back the way he came and down a different direction before turning his gaze back to the ghost.
"Are you... okay?" A small pause. "Stupid question, sorry. I'm Nico. Can I help you somehow?"
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Usually he listens to the Force when he's in the Archives, anyway. Not having solid hands would slow him down, but it should still be...doable.
So he finds himself here. And to his mild surprise, is quickly noticed.
"I'm Ezra," he responds, quietly. "And...I don't know. Not everyone notices me, like this. Do you talk to the dead often, Nico?" he asks, with a flicker of a smile.
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"Hello," he calmly ventures.
If you still want to do this!
So for right now he tries to do a few things, all at once: focus, reaching out in the Force towards Vyng's presense, pushing a sense of greeting, while he open what he percieves to be his mouth (although...that's got to be just habit, right?)
"Hello," he tries to reply back.