Return of the Jedi... Master

[mediations]

Who: Obi-Wan Kenobi
What: Obi-Wan Kenobi is someone who can't even stay dead for long.
Where: Outside of 952 Beulah Street
When: Wednesday 8th
Warnings: Beware of Grumpy-Wan? He's upset with himself for what happened, as well as angry at the town itself, and still trying to deal with the whole Vader-thing... Also, he may be a little paranoid.

[ Obi-Wan shifts on the curb in a vain attempt to get comfortable. No such luck, apparently. He tugs at the bathrobe draped over his frame, disgruntled over the fact that he did not have his Jedi cloak, his Jedi tunic... the lack of all things Jedi suddenly feels like a great weight upon him, furthering his annoyance, his frustration, his anger.

The fact that he did indeed die only fuels those feelings. Feelings no Jedi should have.

This is going to be a problem.

He shifts again, before letting out a sigh. Obi-Wan rises to his feet a little unsteadily, turning to head back inside. ]

Comments

[ooeeooahah]

... Ben?

[ Ilsa stops on the sidewalk, looking concerned. ]

You're not okay.

[ Not a question. ]

[mediations]

[ He tenses at her approach, before turning back around slowly. ]

Thank you for your perception, Ilsa.

[ooeeooahah]

Now, don't be that way, hon. [ She frowns, concerned. ]

I take it you died this week?

[ She moves forward, ready to steady him, but staying at a polite distance until he needs assistance. ]

[mediations]

I did. [ He folds his arms over his chest, frowning at the memory. ] And let me tell you, it was not the most pleasant thing in the world.

[ooeeooahah]

You want to talk about it? [ Her tone says this would be a really good idea, Obi-Wan. ]

We could go get tea at the bakery.

[mediations]

[He scrutinizes her for a moment, taking her and her offer in, considering...]

Alright.

[ooeeooahah]

[ She takes his arm, not obviously supporting him, and lets him dictate the speed that they walk. ]

Nothing here is what it should be. We shouldn't be getting sick or die because we choose to not play their games.

[mediations]

[ He walks slowly, his frazzled nerves smoothing somewhat. ] Nonetheless, it's how the world works. Nothing is fair to those who chose not to play their part.

[ooeeooahah]

[ Ilsa projects a thread of calm, cautiously. He seems more agitated than usual. ]

And yet, there's times when those who play their parts are punished as well.