dǫçţǫŗ şɭęęƥ (shone) wrote in valloic, @ 2020-12-16 20:46:00 |
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Entry tags: | !: action/thread/log, ₴ inactive: dan torrance |
WHO: Siri & Dan
WHAT: Disappearances suck
WHERE: Where the Jedi Temple was, then to the mortuary
WHEN: After this
WARNINGS: A sad
STATUS: Complete
There had been a lot of disappearances, since Dan found himself in Vallo - he’d seen many people come and go, some friends, one had even been his family (and that one still stung, even just a little). But out of all of that, he’d never seen buildings disappear - let alone someone’s home. Usually, when occupants vanished, whatever was left behind went on to gather dust or be repurposed, or occasionally (sometimes) the original occupants returned to claim what had once been theirs. This whole thing with the Temple fading away was odd, and Dan knew it was nothing short of heartbreaking for Siri - the least he could do was offer her a place to stay that was far enough from her former home. There was nothing left, not even a stone or a brick, and all she had were her memories of the place. Fond ones, that he hoped she kept with her. The Shining unrolled like a giant ribbon, pinging in all directions - Siri felt different because of her connection to the Force, of course, and he was able to pick up on her presence easily. Her aura, her feelings - there was a lot of sadness, but he could tell she’d numbed herself to a lot of it. He remembered where the Temple had been (since he’d helped out at and attended the open house event that was hosted there) so he headed in that direction - he had a jacket on, but it was still a little cold, boughs shuddering in a gust of wind. The forest was undeniably more sinister at night, with shadows moving over mossy rocks and trees swaying back and forth. Dan wouldn’t want to be alone out here and he didn’t want Siri to be either. He came across her close to the site of the former Temple. “Hey,” he greeted, the Shining snapping back like a rubber band; he didn’t want to overwhelm her with what he was projecting, even if it was mostly just worry for her at this moment. Though as an additional greeting, he did hug her, arms going around her to give a reassuring squeeze. Siri turned as he arrived and willingly hugged him back. The sudden warmth reminded her that it was the middle of the night and cold, something she had barely noticed. Until his voice broke the quiet, she’d been unable to tear her eyes away from where the Temple had stood. Even the gardens were gone, their favorite respite from Temple visitors. It appeared as if the Temple never existed. “Thank you,” she managed, her voice hoarse, dry from the chill. For a brief moment, she’d worried that seeing him, his face so similar to Obi-Wan’s, might be too much, but Dan was undeniably himself, a wholly different person. And her friend, something she was grateful for. She couldn’t help a look back at the spot where her home had stood, even though nothing had changed. Already, the Force urged her on, away from the past. Concentrate on what is in front of you, the next steps. Resolutely, she put her back to the spot, although it wrenched at her. “I should have come to where you were,” she said, quiet. “But I couldn’t move." “It’s okay, Siri,” Dan murmured, exhaling a breath he’d been holding in. “The mortuary isn’t too far from here.” And he was eager to get back to it, where there was a crackling fire and the interior surprisingly warm and lived-in despite the business it had once been used for. Maybe it was the family aspect which made it that way. It was a little disorienting, being plunged in the darkness of the forest at night, the utter blackness of it - a bit of moonlight shined in to bleach rocks with light, but other than that, it was wandering into pitch and the loam of the earth under their feet and decomposing leaves made the air feel thick. Luckily, the crystal of the nearby waypoint - one that had led to where the Temple was - still remained and glowed faintly. He wondered if it too would disappear eventually. “We can just head back?” he nodded toward the crystal. “There’s also a waypoint by the mortuary and once we get in I’ll make us some coffee. Or tea. Something hot.” And find something of Allison’s for Siri to wear, if she wanted to change clothes. “Of course.” She said it numbly, knowing that she should answer, needed to answer. Consciously, she tried to release some of her feelings to the Force, but it felt like she was encased in an icy shell, the ever-present sensation of the Force only a distant hum hidden behind a wall. It was on the tip of her tongue to say, I’m ready, but she couldn't form the words. Instead, she closed her eyes briefly, then reopened them, willing her eyes to only see the waypoint. What was behind them now didn’t matter. Her bare feet were at least sure on the ground and she didn’t misstep as they went towards the crystal; long habits took over when they had to. She reached out to touch it, and couldn’t help a half-turn towards the forest, no, don’t look, the words almost audible and maybe Dan could even hear them in his head. She knew the Shining was close to the Force, close enough that they were nearly one and the same. He would know what it cost her to resolutely turn back to the crystal as the waypoint transported them to forest clearing nearer the mortuary. “It knew,” she finally added, still numb. “And I think….the Force tried to even hide it from me, what was coming. Because when I walked outside, I was carrying this,” she looked down, at the lightsaber hilt in her palm, “and I don’t recall even picking it up.” They ended up outside the mortuary, where it was quiet and still - its brand of darkness, however, Dan was familiar with and welcomed by. He went inside and she followed, right to the living room and the fireplace which was a tiny sun, casting long shadows over the rug on the floor and the flames flickering. The air wasn’t smoky but he smelled pine as it burned, another comforting aspect. “It’s possible it knew,” he said about the Force; having some kind of extra sense was something that he relied on as well, knew what it was like to have that guidance, those additional feelers that sometimes happened to be helpful as often as it could be a hindrance - it was why he was often loathe to look into the future, not wanting to rely on that when it was brittle glass with any reassurances. “Like I said, there’s some things that - we just don’t know about this place. Vallo, overall, likes to keep its secrets.” He slipped his jacket off, hanging it up. “Have a seat on the couch? I’ll get you something of Allison’s to wear. Socks, at least.” Siri’s feet had to be freezing, standing there barefoot in the woods like that. This time she only nodded, gratefully; being inside the warm room, lit only by the small fire, made everything smaller, more manageable, unlike the unending bleakness of the forest before. Sinking down into the couch, she set down the saber hilt and let her shoulders drop, the tension draining. The enormity of it, of the Temple leaving, of Obi-Wan and Ahsoka and the others leaving...it wanted to drown her, pulling her into an undertow. But here, for a moment, she could get a grip on it, find a way to swim without sinking. Still, she put her hands to her face, and felt salty tears she hadn’t been aware of. “Why now,” she whispered, with the smallest shake of her head. When she had been brought to Vallo, the others had been here, save for Ahsoka; she’d faced the knowledge of what happened back in their galaxy, but at least had companions here. Now, she knew with terrible certainty what bleak future they were drawn back to. “I wish it had just sent me back too.” As far as pajamas went, Allison had a lot of those silk handkerchiefs - as Dan affectionately called them. But he left the lingerie where it was because that didn’t seem appropriate, and found a pajama set that was cozier, just a pair of comfy drawstring pants and a soft long-sleeved top. He grabbed that and socks rolled up, bringing it all downstairs. “I’m glad you’re still here, Siri,” he told her, having caught the tail end of one particular rumination. He knew she was drifting now but she’d find her way - even after so much loss had pulled the rug out from under her, suckerpunched her. “I know that doesn’t really matter much, but I am.” Dan sat beside her, offering warm pajamas. “If you need a minute - feel free to use the shower? The hot water might help. I’ll make some tea.” Something with a little bit of sleepytime in it, definitely no caffeine - he wanted to look after her, make sure she got some sleep. “Yes….probably a good idea.” She took the items with cold hands, but just set them on her lap, her shoulders still slumped. Still… “Thank you,” she added, her tone sincere for all that it was much quieter than she usually spoke. “Truly….it is not unusual for any Jedi to find themselves in dire circumstances, but this….is outside the realm of what I can imagine.” She took in a deep breath, looking at the fire. The Force quieted here, calming from the maelstrom it had been when the Temple disappeared. She felt the affection and closeness that Dan and Alison had infused the place with, and it curled around the building like a protective blanket. Siri could always tell when an abode had become a home to someone; it permeated every part of the place. “You are a good friend,” the sensation prompted her to say. “You and Alison both. You are good people; I feel that, with the Force, even if I had not known you.” She gathered up the clothing, with a small sigh. “And I am not ever given to this much emotion.” She paused, before admitting, “I let this place convince me that life could be different.” “We care about you,” Dan said without hesitation, and he meant that. He’d liked Siri from the first time he met her - and Allison knew how much he valued his friends. “And maybe it still can be. Different, that is. A lot of any life is...what you make of it.” This life, the life beyond, the afterlife - he knew it was there, he’d seen it. Had dipped a toe in before ending up here - hadn’t it been what he’d helped people reach, when they were on their way out? They were always so scared. But he wanted to reassure them and he did - that we don’t end, we go on. Dick had said the same thing, from beyond the land of the living. That didn’t mean Dan wanted to go back home and leave all he had found here - however, he wasn’t necessarily afraid of what lay in the beyond. He patted Siri’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. The pressure of friendship. “Alright, I’ll make some tea. You, just make yourself at home.” “I feel like I will be saying ‘thank you’ quite a bit,” she answered, a sliver of a joke, and the barest turn of her lips said her humor remained somewhere, deep down. Siri never worried about loneliness, not when she had the Force and her drive as a Jedi. They all operated alone, after all, or as pairs. Yet even she felt those severed cords from someone who was wrapped integrally into her life. As Dan made the tea, she slipped on the socks, warming her feet right away. Practical matters, first. She had her saber, the most important thing. Everything else could be replaced. Even her equilibrium, although it seemed so far away. She knew Dan and Alison would shelter her until she could afford a new place. Or, stars, if Vallo decided to bring another Jedi Temple here. Stranger things had happened. When he returned with a steaming mug, Siri nodded her gratitude as she took it. “There is still a world here,” she murmured. “And I am a part of it.” The tea Dan made was chamomile, something soothing and not chock-full of caffeine - he made cups for the both of them, handing Siri one. “Exactly,” he agreed, a kind smile reaching his eyes and digging into the laugh lines that lived in the corners. He used to think they made him look old, but they didn’t really. The fact that they’d deepened while he’d been here in Vallo was something to be glad for - and he was. “I want you to be part of this world as long as possible,” he said, and he meant that. Siri had been there for his wedding and he hoped she was a part of other important milestones in the life he’d built here as well. Sitting on the couch, he made himself comfortable and sipped his tea. “I’ll stay up with you as long as you want?” he offered. “And show you where one of the spare rooms are.” They had plenty, now that a good number of the mortuary residents had vanished. “I am beyond grateful that I met you some time ago, and I managed to be pleasant long enough to befriend you,” she managed to joke. “Or else I’d be completely without a place.” Siri sipped the tea, letting the warmth reawaken her limbs, or at least thaw her a little. She could do this. She did have friends here, no less valuable for how short a time she’d known them. Like Dan, and Toph, and Boyd, and many more. She’d lost Georgie some time ago, but she could respect the changing ways of Vallo instead of dreading them. Eventually. “I’ll be alright, Dan,” she added, quieter but sincerely. “Once I get through the first night without him.” It was hard to respect the ebb and flow, the way the magic would give and take here in Vallo - Dan knew they weren’t meant to understand everything about it, and he wouldn’t dig into where he shouldn’t. But oh yeah - it really was difficult. Still, he knew they’d get through this. “You will,” he agreed, his tone gravelly but just as sincere. “You’ll find a way.” They always did. That was what life was all about, wasn’t it? Coming out on the other side, even when you thought you couldn’t. Luckily, they’d had a lot of practice. And so this? It would be no different. He didn’t know much, but he was sure of that - at the very least. |