(no subject)

[onlyhope]

CHARACTERS: Anakin, Cal & Obi-Wan
DATE: September, throughout
WARNINGS: fuckboy behaviour, probably talk of war and genocide
SUMMARY: training sessions and gross domestic stuff. if you ever wanted to oogle your Jedi neighbour here is your chance...

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pick a time, any time

[onlyhope]

[ It turns out, somehow, that locked inside their houses overnight they are safe from the terrors that roam the streets. This sounds like superstition, but enough rotations have passed by now that Obi-Wan is sure it must be some kind of law of this car. He thinks he's the first one up in their household, and he takes care to be quiet before stepping outside into the foggy morning.

Everything is cradled in a muffled, pre-dawn quiet. Obi-Wan can see the edges of cobblestones coming into murky focus as the sun makes an desperate attempt to reach through the overcast, and then he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.

Anakin is right: this world feels like the life is being leeched from it. It isn't just the plague working it's way through the town, it's a plague in the plants and the animals and the very land itself. Obi-Wan reaches out and rests himself carefully within it's aching Force signature, taking tender care not to jostle anything accidentally. He doesn't want to be an invader, he wants to find peace with it. It's difficult, and takes much more concentration than he's used to exerting while moving through katas.

Half an hour later, sweat has dampened the fine hair on the back of his neck and his tunic is clinging between his shoulderblades. Obi-Wan puffs out a breath as he draws himself out of a deep lunge, then reaches over his head and pulls his undertunic off entirely, using the fabric to wipe his face. ]

sparring food

[unrepentant]

[They find a routine out here, wherever here really is. He and Obi-Wan and Cal are strangers to each other in some ways, in their sense of what and when home is. But maybe in all the ways that matter, they aren't strangers at all. Three Jedi cast out against a strange universe and they find each other, start living in the same home as if the temple on Corusant is something they're all trying to emulate. They meditate and move around each other's strangeness. Anakin finds that they're each becoming more aware of the boundaries between them. The things that are good. The things that are bad. The things they ask about and the things they don't.

They meditate and take meals together, sometimes they have tea or share meals. Sometimes they just talk and share theories.

But Anakin finds that this is the part that comes easiest. He takes himself through routines and practices his forms, and it helps in the way movement has always helped. And yet, there's really no substitution for having an opponent to face off against. A sparring partner demands all of his attention; he has to make sure he doesn't land blow badly and that he doesn't take one either. He has to learn how to move with, against another body, another style, the unknown. Outside and waiting for his partner, Anakin is able to recognize the feeling that hums in his ears. Excitement.

The hilt of his lightsaber settles in his palm and Anakin stretches idly, makes a slow figure eight as he ignites the blade and casts the trees around them in an otherworldly blue light. The front door is still open and inside, the small sounds of life travel out to meet him. All he needs to do now is be patient.]