Peter Octavian (
2_old_for_this) wrote2016-08-13 10:04 am
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From the Preserve to MCA, Saturday
It was fairly quiet out here in the preserve; the odd animals seemed uninterested in Peter, which was fine with him. He wasn't out here to animal-watch.
It had gotten oppressive in his apartment, the walls seeming to press on him along with the memories. He still needed to do more, though. The magic was coming back to him, and he needed to remember more.
The air crackled slightly around him as he sank to his knees and took a deep breath. He cupped his hands together, channeling the excess energy into a ball, then pushing it away to dissipate in the air. He took another breath and sank back into the memories of Hell, searching for what he needed. From the outside, it might look like meditation, if you ignored the expression on his face.
[Expecting one!]
It had gotten oppressive in his apartment, the walls seeming to press on him along with the memories. He still needed to do more, though. The magic was coming back to him, and he needed to remember more.
The air crackled slightly around him as he sank to his knees and took a deep breath. He cupped his hands together, channeling the excess energy into a ball, then pushing it away to dissipate in the air. He took another breath and sank back into the memories of Hell, searching for what he needed. From the outside, it might look like meditation, if you ignored the expression on his face.
[Expecting one!]
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"Right, fair enough. So, what were you doing that's so dangerous for you?"
You had seemed like a decent person, Peter. Kanan didn't want to think you were a Sith, but the whole 'lightning from the hands' thing wasn't reassuring at all. Especially following what he had seen around you through the Force.
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It was just that apparently, having things to work through made him a very dangerous man.
He pulled in a deep breath, then pushed off from the tree and walked over to Peter, offering him his hand.
"I'm not going to drag particulars out of you," he grumbled. "Everybody has something, and all. But I'm here if you do want to talk. And I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to hear it. Not just because you nearly vaporized me, either."
That did help some, though.
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He'd offer Peter the caf he'd gotten last weekend, but he wasn't feeling actively homicidal, as annoyed as he was to have the Force hanging around the edges of his consciousness, with him not wanting to nudge it aside. That lightning had left him more shaken than he wanted to admit.
"Pet the dog. Level with one another a bit."
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"Yeah. That'd be...nice." He rubbed his arms absently, less from any sort of cold and more to reassure himself that he was all here, really here and not back there again.
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It hadn't been his intention, of course. But that didn't change the fact that it had happened.
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Don't accidentally try and kill you for it.
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If you were Sith, Peter, Kanan was going to be so annoyed.
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He tilted his head curiously and regarded Peter in silence for a moment.
"Demons - and angels for that matter - so far as I'm aware, are only myth. But my... that is, a teacher of mine used to tell me that there was some truth in stories. I take it you've got a little more than myth to contend with."
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He paused a bit longer, taking a few deep breaths. "Yeah. There's some truth in stories."
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"And you've got experience." He hesitated a moment more, and then started walking again. "It's funny. You really didn't strike me as the 'damned for all eternity' sort when we met."
Did Dark Lords of the Sith buy people coffee?
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He scrubbed his hands over his face again. "We had to stop him. The sorcerer had summoned him, so he was coming to the sorcerer. The demon lord was halfway through the portal. There wasn't even much time to think. I grabbed the sorcerer and dove back through it."
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Well then.
"I suppose that explains a lot of it," he allowed. "I'd be doing my best Terrelian Jango Jumper impression, too."
He imagined so, anyway. He was paranoid enough about things that didn't involve throwing himself into the mouth of Hell in an act of selfless heroism.
"There was a lot of..." Kanan fell silent for a moment, and then, finding some resolve, pushed forward all the same. "... of darkness around you. Fear and hate and power, things that I was taught to be wary of, growing up."
For totally normal reasons that had nothing to do with the Force, honest.
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Here he was taking a huge damn risk. If Peter actually was an agent of the Sith, confessing Force sensitivity was practically suicide. Kanan wasn't being obvious about it at all, but his right hand was hovering near enough to his blaster that he could draw it in a heartbeat if need be.
His was a healthy paranoia.
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"I've learned a lot of magic over the years. If I can remember enough, I think I can open a portal home."
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"So... that's what you were doing, then? Trying to get home?"
He could appreciate that.
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Well, not nowhere. But it isn't as though Peter had heard him calling his name, either.
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And once again, Kanan was thankful that it had been him, and not some well-meaning student, or anybody else who didn't have a history of Jedi training and a sixth sense for when to move.
"So." He glanced back at Peter again. "Getting home is worth dragging your mind through Hell again, is it?"
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"I blocked out a lot of it," he eventually answered. "It was the only way I could survive. But if I want to remember how to use the magic, I have to remember how and when I learned it."
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