deercountry | Bad Memories (Closed)

The child was being an annoying thorn in his side -- quite literally, seeing as the more Skywalker tried to fight for his body back, the more his head throbbed from the effort. He was going to have to teach the boy a lesson, one that Palpatine would ensure the boy knew who was the one in control here, and how wise it would be for him to sit back and shut up. It took little effort to search the boy's memories, to find that little sting of guilt and regret that throbbed inside of him, buried under piles of useless information the child tried to throw in his way.

It was a futile effort; he found what he needed, and that was why he was seeking out Kylo Ren now.

The fact that Vader's grandson followed his path amused him to no end; what a violent, angry child. How easy he must have been to manipulate, to goad into falling. He would have to treat himself after this was all done, for who else would have bothered with such an impudent child other than himself?

Finding Ren was harder than he cared to admit; Skywalker seemed intent on keeping his space, on letting the child come to him when he was ready to. Pathetic Jedi thinking was working against him in this instance, but no matter. It only served to delay the inevitable, and when he finally located Ren, he was sure to have Vader's saber in hand, and sure to use Skywalker's voice to speak.

"Kylo Ren," he called out, Skywalker's voice clipped and direct, the coming confrontation evident, even without the ominous sensation in the Force. "You and I have a discussion we need to finish."

Kylo doesn't get many visitors. Possibly because, he doesn't make an effort to make it known, where he lives. He keeps to himself, hosting the occasional surprise visit but mostly spends his time alternating between training, dealing with whatever chaos that Trench has chosen to throw at them during that particular time or digging up information.

His uncle paying him a visit, is a surprise. As is the strange chill in the air, something in the Force is off. His neck prickles as he turns towards the strange scene. It's Luke alright, but everything is off, like a faulty rendering from memory. His demeanor, the coldness in his eyes, the tone of voice. It's familiar.

Suddenly, it's that night at the temple all over him again, though this time - Kylo is prepared. He's not that person anymore. This time he won't run away, he'll do what needs to be done. Shoving down the fear (not again, why can't be free of this), he stands straighter - reaching for the hilt of his own saber.

"I have nothing more to say to you, Uncle."

"Is that so?"

He let out a low chuckle, amused. This child was even worse than the boy he currently held in his grasp; so raw and with only scraps of actual training. He suspected he used this child as a means to an end, as someone to find what he really wanted; he was meant to be discarded, just like everything else, and he would serve that purpose now.

"Your thoughts betray you, Ren," he sneered in Skywalker's voice. "I can feel your fear; you never stopped being a terrified boy, did you?"

He ignited Vader's saber then, the blood red blade highlighting his eyes. For a moment, no longer than a blink, his eyes seemed to be a sickly, glowing yellow. They were ice blue again in the next moment, like the blade had just made a trick of the light and nothing more.

"I think it's time I stop pretending I care about the fearful little monster my sister spawned," he said with a disassociated calm, taking up Skywalker's blade in his other hand and activating that as well. He was in a much younger body now, after all; it would be remiss of him not to take advantage of that.

In the next moment, he was running for Ren, blades sparking as he held them out toward the ground, cutting through the dirt. Murder was in his eyes, cold and indifferent, and hellbent on slaughtering the child in cold blood.

Logically, Kylo should've figured that something was wrong. Luke seemed off, in the Force and in every other way; it didn't fit with the kindly and somewhat dorky young man who'd been devastated to learn of what transpired in the past between him and his nephew. But the fear, the anger had all taken hold leaving no room for anything else, only allowing him to briefly wonder what had changed, and also to feel some measure of dark relief. Finally, his colors were out in the open and Kylo could finish what he'd failed to do all those years ago.

"Monster." He snarled, igniting his saber and widening his stance - raising it up and pointing it towards Luke.

His musings were briefly interrupted by him pulling out another saber, red. Definitely not his own. And his eyes... was that only a trick of the light? In a moment, they shone as red before seemingly turning back to the familiar blue ones. Clouded with hate and disgust. There wasn't time to wonder further as he charged towards Kylo. Even older as he'd known the man, he wasn't slowed down by the years but this was Luke in his prime, closer to his own age now.

"I've been waiting a long time for this." He slashed his blade downward and out, preparing to strike.

A slow, almost cruel sneer came to Luke's face, before he launched himself toward the boy, the movements of Jar'Kai flowing easily in this youthful body. Blade followed blade as he struck out at the boy, goading him to attack false opens, letting the blades tear through the ground before aiming for flesh. It had been years since he had been able to fight with such wild abandon and knowing that he couldn't be stopped, not easily after all.

"You really think you can keep up with me, boy?" he hissed, lashing out at him viciously with both blades.

His movements almost throw Kylo off, nearly; he catches his guard but not before the singe of fabric and flesh and a sharp pain in his shoulder which tells of a successful hit.

"Why don't we stop chatting and find out." Luke was not a taunt his enemies kind of opponent. There was something about him that felt wrong, familiar but not. And certainly unlike any version of Luke Skywalker he knew or heard of. But getting to the bottom of it was lower on his priorities than escaping his wrath and destroying him before Luke could end him first.

As it was, Luke really meant to kill him this time.

Pain is power. Kylo draws on it, on the anger he'd held in his heart for so long; before bringing his saber up to block the sabers, locking them together. Already prepared with a second attack before he's even completely pulled away.

Luke leaned into the block, like he was trying to overpower Kylo and his superior height and strength. An insidious, not-very-Luke-like sneer was on his face, and there was no doubting that his eyes were no longer blue, but a sickly yellow rimmed with red.

"At least you understand the basics of the Dark Side," he hissed in a voice that was not his own, "but you are still nothing more than a child playing with forces he doesn't understand!"

With inhuman strength, he shoved Kylo hard, breaking the lock their sabers were in and lashing out with the intent to kill him.

If there was one thing he knew he needed to do, it was to make sure that, if any plans he made here fell apart, he would have backup. Naturally, the best backup would be the one that worked so well for him in the past, and since Anakin Skywalker was from that point in their shared history, it would take very little effort for him to pull on his chains. He just needed to clear away certain issues first, namely the unfortunate spoiling of the boy's future the others had submitted him to thus far. Considering the memory of their last conversation still seemed to sting the young Skywalker he currently inhabited, he knew exactly what he needed to say.

And so, he allowed his presence to be known in the Force, focusing solely on Anakin in hopes that it would draw his attention as he lingered on the outskirts of town. Certainly such a familiar sensation would draw the boy to him in no time at all.

He doesn't recognise the presence, but it's an almost sensation. Like he's almost felt this before. It's enough to pique his interest. He wishes it didn't when he sees who is at the other end. Instead there's a pang of guilt that he didn't even recognise Luke. His demand for distance had come at his wit's end, but it didn't change the fact that he'd still alienated his son.

Anakin lingers for a moment, watching his son's back before he finally tears his eyes away to leave. There wasn't anything further to be said to each other right now.

Hm... it seemed that he failed to understand the relationship between father and son. No matter; he turned toward Anakin, watching him try to retreat for a moment, before he called for him in his own voice.

"Anakin, my dear friend," he said. "Please, don't turn away."

In a flash, Anakin had his lightsaber drawn. "Who are you?"

It sounded familiar, but this clearly wasn't Luke. Was this a trick of this place? He had a bad feeling about this.

"Luke" held up his hands in a placating manner, silently begging Anakin for calm.

"It's me, old friend," he said in a voice that did not belong to him, but Anakin would have been able to recognize anywhere.

Something in the Force had shifted; something that feels...bad. It catches on the edges of his senses, distractingly so, but if he went chasing after every ill feeling, he'd never get anything done. That's especially true here in Trench.

And yet, it lingers. His usual daily routines and meditations do not shake the feeling away.

Eventually, Ezra folds himself into meditation by Obi-wan's rock garden, grounding himself there, before flinging his senses more widely to the currents of the Force.

Ezra has never won a lightsaber duel against a Darksider. In other life, under a Jedi Order of thousands, he may have never been assigned the sort of missions where any sort of toe to toe combat was likely. Some of what strength he had in the physical aspects of the Force waxes and wanes under the influence of his Paleblood nature.

But he has always been good at sensing things. And at making connections, even across distances. Once he goes really looking, first at the people he's most connected to, because he checks on them more often than he usually lets on -

Something seems very off with Luke. Like he's dimmed, but like there's something heavy obscuring....

It almost reminds him of Dathomir, in a way he can't quite put his finger on.

Ezra eyes snap open.

Step one: He tries Luke's Omni. After waiting a while for a response...

Step two: He goes looking for him to really get a closer look. To talk to Luke, hopefully.

When he spots the other young man, he calls out, warmly, "Luke! How have you been?"

Edited (a missing word) 2023-03-06 22:50 (UTC)

The Skywalker boy had fallen quiet after the death of his nephew, just as he had planned. His attachment to family was his undoing, and he was enjoying the feel of wearing the boy's skin, enjoying the control and power that he had craved for so long.

When the communication device went off, he planned on ignoring it. There was no need to pretend to be the child to that extent. But on a glance at the username and probing the child memories, he second guessed that; Bridger was an excessive thorn in his side that deserved similar dismemberment as the Kylo brat.

"Ezra," he began in Skywalker's voice, "what is it?"

Well, Ezra doesn't immediately see any obvious signs of corruption, or other flavor of on brand Trench nonsense.

Still, Luke's presence in the Force felt wrong.

He holds his affection for Luke (all the versions he's ever met) out, letting it flare in the Force, in a bid to mute his wariness and concern.

"Oh, I just hadn't seen you face to face in a while. So I figured I'd come by."

He held back a snort and the urge to roll his eyes. Instead he kept up appearances, forcing a faint smile on his face as he considered how to pull the other young man off to somewhere more private.

"Sorry, I've been preoccupied," he replied, injecting a bit of sheepishness into his voice. "How have you been?"

"Oh, busy as usual, especially with the gardens before the ground freezes," Ezra says lightly, and tilts his head. "But not bad."

"What's been on your mind?" he prods, and mirrors that with some psychic reach. A bit of a ping, with a sense of gentle query. It's more forward than he usually goes for, but they are not just Jedi. They are also Palebloods. The first time they spoke here was spontaneous telepathy, in fact.

Luke, in his right mind, would simply indicate a 'no thank you' at worst, he was almost sure of it.

Instead of a no thank you, trying to mentally reach Luke was more like slamming into a wall of pure Force, like he really didn't want anyone trying to reach out to him. "Luke" answered as if nothing happened:

"I've been preoccupied with the past, mostly." He shrugged slightly. "There is still a lot of questions that I've wanted answers to."

That's wrong. That's wrong.

...but he can't be completely sure that Luke doesn't just want to keep his feelings tightly hidden. He hesitates -

"Oh. What sort of questions?" he continues, conversationally. "I can't say there aren't things...I haven't wanted a repeat of that conversation about your mother."

'

He didn't like how many questions he was asking, not to mention the attempt to brush at his shared mind. Damn meddling little...

"Mostly about the Emperor," he replied, keeping up a nonchalant air. "I just... I feel his defeat was too simple. If he was so powerful..."

He trailed off, before he shrugged.

"I just feel like he shouldn't have died so easily."

"...have you talked to your youngest nephew about any of this?" Ezra asks. "I think he'd have some things to say."

He presses on. "But in the end, arrogance was his undoing. He thought he could turn you, own you. He assumed his power over your father was complete."

Something in the currents of the Force gathers around him. He doesn't understand it, not truly, but with each word he's increasingly sure that in this moment, this is what he must say, because he is needed.

"He was so used to stripping people of their choices with his manipulations, he forgot in our heart of hearts there is always a choice."

Edited 2023-03-07 02:08 (UTC)

His eyebrow twitched before he could stop himself. What an arrogant little fool; how dare he say such things about him! He may have failed in the last moments with Vader, but he still won in the end; Vader died, while even the memory of him continued to live on and enslave young Skywalker with barely any effort.

He collected himself quickly, absently smoothing out the boy's tunic.

"Maybe so," he finally replied. "Maybe our will to make those choices was stronger in the end."

Not likely, but he had to keep up appearances for now.

The mannerisms are all wrong.

"Why," he asks softly. "Would that thought make you angry?"

"Luke"'s expression darkened, as if realizing he was caught in a lie he hadn't wanted to make public. In the next moment, his left hand was moving toward Ezra, bolts of lightning crackling between his fingertips before lashing out at him.

"You ask too many questions, boy," he hissed in the Emperor's voice, his eyes flashing to a sickly yellow.

Yeah, that is not Luke. He's not willing to believe this is even some fallen or corrupted version of him - not that that was impossible, it's just...there's something else here, he's nearly sure of it.

Nearly two years focused training on Soresu, some of it directly under Obi-wan Kenobi with playing with lightning with druid names Vyng on the side, pays off as he manages to deflect that first bolt. With a thought, he calls down the murder of ravens he'd negotiated with, on the first part of his search for his friend, to dive bomb this opponent.

The use of 'boy' is a clue. Sidious's called Ezra that before. Can it actually be Sidious somehow? Or maybe some construct of Trench that believes it is?

Whether this is Sidious or Luke, or something else, Ezra doubts he can win this with brutal strength, or agility, or even endurance.

Those are not his gifts.

"He doesn't own you, either Luke!" he calls out, dashing to loosely circle, physically, while he floods the Force, no holding back this time with conviction. With love. Reaching for the ball of sun he thinks of when he thinks of Luke, that he believes is here, merely hidden. "He never could."

Reach for me! I'm here. I won't leave you.

An uncharacteristic snarl escaped from Luke's mouth as he reached for his side, pulling Vader's lightsaber from his belt and igniting it, bathing his face in the frighteningly red glow. With a swift flick of his wrist, one of the ravens in the murder went down in pieces, another following not long after, before he switched hands, sending another blast of lightning through the birds.

He grabbed for another lightsaber in the next moment, Luke's normal green bladed weapon, but held off on igniting it. Instead he waved it lazily in Ezra's direction, as if taunting him with it.

"Call for him all you want," Sidious hissed. "He belongs to me now, as he was always meant to."

Kanan had always said that you didn't win by beating your opponent, but by surviving. There was wisdom in that adage. Focusing on beating someone, on ego, could lead to mistakes. It could lead to valuing abstract victory over lives.

But Ezra as already died once. Some things are worth sacrificing for. In this moment, Ezra chooses his victory conditions and commits; he will keep fighting for Luke's spirit, soul, and body, and if he dies trying, so be it. He flings himself as wide as he can to the Force, and drops into Soresu high guard. He's going to have to rely on muscle memory from years of drills, and the guidance of the Force, in the physical part of this fight.

The rest of his focus in entirely on trying to slip around or through the mental defensive the entity possessing Luke has thrown up, and keep flooding the Force with conviction.

We can face him together. Help me, Luke.

Something stirred in response to Ezra's pleading, something that was very much Luke, drowning in the dark sensations that was Palpatine. It was then that the darkness inhabiting his body struck out at him, red lightsaber flashing as he attacked, trying to break through his defense.

And as he fought, a quiet voice:

Ezra?

Relief/hope/determination flows through that bit of connection.

More intentionally, Ezra sends the image in real time of what Luke's body is doing, as the young Jedi manages to just barely block an attack.

Uh, Sith in the driver's seat??? Take whatever you need from me to get control back.

A reckless offer, but Ezra figures, if this is Sidious somehow, even with the foreignness of being in a different body to slow the Sith Lord down, this fight will last about 30 more seconds, tops.

Ok, Ezra has one more card to play - his Omen. Out of the shadows pounces about 10 kilograms of furious white Loth cat, claws scrambling and teeth bared, aiming for Luke's torso.

Palpatine clearly didn't expect the sudden Loth cat, as he went down with a startled cry, the green lightsaber falling from his hand and rolling out of sight.

As he struggled against the Omen, Luke let out a hopeless sigh over the mental link.

I can't. Even as a memory, the Emperor is too strong.

Sahar - the Loth cat - lets go to pounce after Luke's lightsaber.

Ezra cycles through disbelief, and then anger.

The hell he is.

Ok, if inspiration isn't going to work, he can do this the even harder way. Ezra's imposed his will on the body of an Imperial officer who didn't know in the slightest. Not quite possession, no, but something fundamentally different from a simple mind trick. Surely, he stands at least a slim chance of restoring control of a body to its rightful inhabitant.

He'd used his anger to take control, those years ago, and that'd unequivocally Dark, but-

He doesn't have to use anger. Only his belief in Luke, and his certainty that the current state of things is unjust.

Let me in. Trust me.

Luke trusted Ezra -- how could he not? -- but he felt so helpless. After Kylo's death, with how hard he struggled to regain control before the final blow, he had very nearly given up. But "very nearly" wasn't completely, and he did his best to reach beyond the darkness, to let Ezra in as he asked.

Palpatine sneered at their efforts, getting back up just enough to send a blast of lightning toward the annoying pet, not caring if it hit or not.

"Your efforts are in vain," he hissed, getting to his feet. "Skywalker is mine, as he was meant to be."

Bad Memories (Closed)

Kylo Ren | TW: character death

lets fucking goooo

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Anakin Skywalker | TW: manipulation/grooming, skeevy old Sheevy

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