deercountry | [July catchall] There's no safe place, no sanctuary

[He sees the mistake when he makes it -

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.]

[ Anakin doesn't remember how he got here. He vaguely remembers running in blistering-hot-freezing-cold rain, feeling too numb to notice the pain. His mind is stuck on loop, hearing only that quiet 'goodbye' over and over. When he finds Ezra's body, the loop stutters to a stop. All that's left is silence and numbness.

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. ]

[ it was like a gong. one solid blow that reverberates throughout trench. it's a wonder no one else heard it. obi-wan's very body shook all the way down to his bones, a tremor he could not quell. and the worst part of it was the aching familiarity of it. the way it clenched over his heart like the vice, the way his breathing just stops and the world —

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. ]

[It takes a while, but eventually, something finds him. A small white lothcat, carrying a lightsaber in her mouth.

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.]

[ jedi do not have belongings. save their lightsabers. but the lightsabers of late feel like gravemarkers in obi-wan's hand, left to him, as the last. he doesn't want to take it. he doesn't want to carry any more lightsabers.

he takes it anyway. ]

[Sahar winds between his feet, brushing her cheek against him, first one, then the other, as she circles, while she revs up to a steady purr.

Obi-wan Kenobi may be down a padawan and housemate but he's stuck with this bit of Ezra's soul as companion for a while, in the meantime.]

[ it is company, even if obi-wan doesn't feel particularly up to it. the constant feeling of being battered and trying to pull himself out has left him more and more exhausted of late. ]

Ezra does not come back to himself, immediately. Nor does he come back, all at once. At first, he is reborn as no more than flickers of feelings - confusion, relief, curiosity. And then, slowly, flashes of full thoughts. Next comes awareness of other presences around him.

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

skipthedemon, skipthedemon#5032 on discord or PM.]

As the descendant of Aloysius Kallig, Talwyn has an affinity for ghosts. He can sense them, and they are drawn towards him, like a moth to the flame. In some cases, he brings out strong emotions in them.

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?"

They've talked before, Gaia and Ezra. Though mostly in passing. Is it connection enough or just a coincidence? Well either way, the spirit might find himself manifesting in an unfamiliar dwelling.

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.

Maul is off in a dark corner of the city, hiding in a half-collapsed building long since abandoned due to one of the many events that had happened. This is Maul as Ezra never will have seen him before. His lower half is like that of a metallic spider, his horns are elongated, and his figure is gaunt like he hasn't had enough to eat in a very long time.

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...."

( cw: corruption, depression, grief )

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.

Edited 2022-07-18 03:09 (UTC)

Paul is out by the beach, as he still often is. He's seen the pull it has on people, even felt the faint tug of it himself, and so he keeps half an eye on the shoreline and half an eye on those who might approach it as he continues his self-appointed work of cleaning up after the storm.

(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.

[ it was like a flicker. a candle spluttering in the dark. the light at the edge of his vision. but no matter how often he looks, obi-wan can't seem to gasp it. he frowns, not wary but not trusting either, his arms crossed tightly. ]

Who is there?

[He's tried to be so careful these last couple of months, to not intentionally touch their bond in the Force, not until Obi-wan seems more comfortable with it - no matter how strong the impulse to flood it with affection has been at times, or how easy it would be to fall back on that bit of support, for his own sake. His control has been imperfect, he's pretty sure, but he's tried his best.

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.

It's the first time anyone's reacted to him, that he's knows of, as he's faded in and out of moments of a variable sort of consciousness.

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."

He'd been thinking about Trenchwood Farm. The guardian tree there. Wondering if they could help ground him, somehow. But he hadn't even been consciously trying to go there, much less-

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?"

Maul right now is...loud. In the Force that, is. Ezra finds himself not quite intentionally drifting closer, partly out of morbid curiosity.

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."

Talwyn senses something come into focus and turns his head in that direction, fingers tensing on the broom, as if he's prepared to use it as a weapon. Force ghosts aren't anything to sneeze at.

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?"

"Yeah. I'm...not sure how long ego?" His sense of time is off.

He shrugs. "A while after the big storm. I got between another Sleeper and the native Disciples they were killing."

"I see." Talwyn puts his broom against the wall for now. "Well, I suppose I have to give you points for dying doing a good deed. Still, I was led to believe that Sleepers come back to life after they die here."

Either Savage was wrong or he lied. Yet this is the first time Talwyn has sensed a Force ghost in the Trench, or just a Sleeper's ghost in general.

That is not D's voice. Nor is it Nara'a's. While the subconscious might process that it's familiar, Gaia's reaction is immediately defensive in nature.

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.

He's pretty sure Talwyn means that bit about the good deed, and that's still so weird. Well, he probably could have been smarter in how he'd gone about trying to defend against Chara.

"Um. We usually do, yeah. I don't know why I'm why I'm like this."

"And not becoming one with the Force isn't exactly common in our universe," Talwyn points out. That Talwyn met multiple Force ghosts during his adventures says a lot. And even then he had to do some digging to track them down.

"You didn't do anything unusual before you died did you? Say, touch an artifact or look into odd Trench magic?"

It's not quite conscious intent that brings him to Anakin. Some worry, and wondering how his fellow Jedi doing and...he finds himself at Anakin's house.

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.

[July catchall] There's no safe place, no sanctuary

Open to those likely to sense Ezra's death (baby's first fatality)

funeral | ota (cw: death, grief, funerary rites)

sorry for the lateness!

Re: sorry for the lateness!

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Semi-open: The Beginning of Haunting

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Location: Feed, Gaia's Home

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