bakerstreet | (no subject)

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You wake up, and you're living a different life. Whatever you had before, whatever you'd accomplished before, is gone. In their place is something familiar, but not the same. Maybe your friends are your enemies, your enemies your friends. Maybe it's the whole world, maybe it's just your household. The only thing you know for sure is that something's changed, and you're the only one who's noticed. But who changed? Them... or you?

1. Domestic bliss. You may not be used to being married to this person or anyone, but now you are. Who are they? Someone you know? Someone you don't know at all? Whatever it is, you seem to have made a life together here.

2. Black is white, white is black. Whatever side you used to work for, you don't anymore. Your friends may have just become your enemies (or maybe they're there with you, working for a cause that you remember as wrong wrong wrong). You might want to step lightly here, though. No one likes an apparent defector.

3. Career changes. Well, your resume's really fucked now. The job you've been doing for the last x years? Never happened. Your awesome space marines team now work at a Wendy's. Or a bookstore. Or maybe you and your retail buddies are now saving the galaxy. Who knows? Whatever, hope you pick up new skills quick!

4. Pet platoon. Oh christ, now you're not even the same species. Your life has been reinterpreted into animal-life. Whatever, human life sucks anyway. Go chase a squirrel!

5. Back in time. Most of the details are same, it's just the setting that's changed. Did you live in 2000? Hope you like the 1800s! Good luck with that whole 'no indoor plumbing thing'.

6. The time of my life. You've seen this movie. One minute you're living pretty as a twelve-year-old, next minute it's eighteen years later and you have to hold down a job. Or maybe you've just been slingshoted to when you were younger. At least you'll totally breeze through algebra this time, right?

7. Wildcard. Make up your own, suggest your own. Do whatever you want. The universe is yours! (Sorta.)

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All scenarios are fine, but I would love five.]

Edited 2014-05-06 20:05 (UTC)

[Back in time sounds fun. Ideas?]

[I don't really know. I suppose we could move around within their lifetimes, or something similar. That would be fairly horrifying, but interesting. Or jump out of the Star Wars universe completely.]

[I'm pretty okay with going back in their own time and having Anakin not the one who knows what's going on - like he's a Padawan Pre-Attack of the Clones, or at that point, but Obi-Wan's post end of Revenge of the Sith? I'd be willing to play Anakin younger (or he's the one that goes back in time, whichever works).

Out of their universe, hmm, like change the setting to like Medieval Europe type setting but keep the story basically the same?]

[First idea sounds like the easiest to get the ball rolling with. I'll go with whatever you toss me, though.]

[OOC: This seemed like a pivotal point in time for Obi-Wan to return to. Lemme know if you want me to change this start at all. Sorry for the TL;DR.]

The troop transport swooped over the baked landscape of Geonosis, hot in pursuit of Count Dooku. Air ships bombarded them from above and behind, droids shot at them from the ground, making the transport buck and weave to avoid taking hits.

Anakin watched this tableau unfold before him and felt it through the Force. He gripped to the hand-holds with a resolve he would not let go for anything until they’d reached Dooku.

His determination soared on the wings of his anger and there was just so much anger to propel him.

Righteous anger at Dooku for starting all this, for falling to the Dark Side and sowing chaos through the galaxy.

There was his self-recriminating anger for his failures that day. He and Padmé had come to rescue Obi-Wan, had hoped to avoid a confrontation this spectacularly disastrous, but in the end had only helped propelled events to this resolution. This failed rescue had started with him disobeying a direct order, which he didn’t blame Padmé for, only himself. The night before he couldn’t even rescue his own mother, and ‘failure’ didn’t begin to describe what he had done after. He was angry because that, too, had started with him disobeying orders; as if there was something inexplicably wrong with his ability to follow through on the simplest of assignments.

And behind all this there was anger simmering for his own Master, because it was on his instruction Anakin had not gone to Tatooine the first night he dreamed of his mother in pain. He knew Obi-Wan was just doing what Jedi do, and Jedi didn’t understand these emotions Anakin seemed to be unendingly plagued with no matter how he tried to apply his education. All dreams ended in time, but it hadn’t been a dream. Her kidnap and torture for a month had been real and he hadn’t done anything to help her. And now she was gone out of his life. He didn’t care what the Code said about Jedi and attachments, her death hurt.

But he knew he needed to put his emotions over her death aside, because that was what he’d been taught to do. And he didn’t dislike his Master, he was just hurt and some of that trust he had for him was shaken. He tried, tried, tried to calm his mind, but peace was just so elusive for him.

It seemed as if the only thing really pushing him through those emotions was the goal of stopping Dooku. If he could just accomplish one good thing today maybe some of events of the past few days would make cosmic sense.

And he was so sure his determination to do that, to not step off course again, could carrying him to the end.

Until the transport banked hard and Padmé feel out the starboard side of the ship, and then Anakin was instantly diverted.

“Padmé!” he shouted and rushed to the right side door. “Turn the ship around!”

It could have been a dream - the dream of a memory and the start of things going very, very wrong. He had been here before, done this, and caught himself against the open doorway when he followed Anakin.

It wasn't a dream. He knew that it wasn't a dream. He didn't understand how, and he wasn't going to try to figure it out in the moment. There wasn't time.

Which was why he didn't repeat himself exactly, didn't use the same words he knew he had before. "What would she tell you to do?" he shouted, above the roar of the wind and engines. Straight to the point, that one.

Maybe it was a dream, after all. Maybe it wasn't. Either way, maybe this was a chance for Anakin to find out exactly what his Master did know.

Anakin shot a look at Obi-Wan, full of struggling with his own emotions and the logic of the answer that came to mind the instant that question was posed. He had no inkling of what Obi-Wan was experiencing. But he did know the answer because he knew Padmé and her dedication to always doing the right thing.

He looked down, because a part of him felt like he was leaving her to die. And that didn’t feel right, it felt so very unfair, but it was the answer.

“To do my duty,” he gritted out, concession apparent in his voice. It didn't yet occur to him how perceptive his Master had been, to go to the very thing that would pull Anakin back from dropping everything and going back for Padmé. “She’d tell me to continue after Dooku.”

He had to keep shouting to be heard, but his voice wasn't quite as desperate as it should have been, nor was it as frantic. "Then do it. I promise you, Anakin, she will be there when Dooku has been dealt with." He didn't make promises lightly, but he still could do little more than hope that what had played out last time would again.

And that he would have some time to tell Anakin a story, in the end. Maybe change things, maybe not - it was possible that nothing could change anything. It was possible that nothing was meant to change. In some horrible way Anakin had brought the force into balance.

Obi-Wan just didn't like the cost of that.

Anakin had started to duck his head from shame; he was just so easily driven off course no matter how strongly he felt about staying on course. Obi-Wan was right, Anakin should be doing his duty.

But then his head snapped back up and he stared at Obi-Wan, searching his Master’s face for a sign of something, a rues, the seed of a lie, because, yes, that was odd. His Master didn’t make promises to him often, and never something like this. The future was always in motion, it was difficult to see; Anakin had heard that more than enough times from Obi-Wan, from Master Yoda, from any instructor or Master who happened to be near Anakin when he questioned the validity of visions.

But no, Obi-Wan looked, and felt in the Force, dead serious and honest.

“How can you know that?” Even though there was a mission to complete, and he should be focusing on that, that defiant part of him needed to know. It was an incongruous comment, and given how the last time they discussed the life of someone he cared about being in possible danger didn’t turn out the way Obi-Wan had predicted, Anakin was more than a little skeptical.

This was not the time.

This was the only time he had. He didn't know why he was here again, didn't know if he was going to be forced to live out the entire timeline or if he only had a matter of moments.

"I know that it's difficult, but please, Anakin. I need for you to trust me in this. If we defeat Dooku, I will answer all of your questions." Including some things that Anakin hadn't asked. "And tell you what I should have, ages ago."

“Wha-?”

Anakin felt this was an odd moment for a heart to heart. Saying Jedi weren’t overly sentimental creatures was putting it charitably. Making this was far more than a Jedi’s standard expression of what little emotions they were allowed to profess.

Something had happened, only Anakin couldn’t discern what. He quickly thought back through the day’s events – the arena, fighting the animals and then next the droids and Geonosians. Now chasing after Dooku. Anakin was sure there hadn’t been time in all that for Obi-Wan to have an existential epiphany.

And yet, still, Anakin couldn’t shake the absolute conviction in Obi-Wan’s words. His Master meant what he said, he believed it. And if there was one thing Anakin was good at doing, it was following what he believe was right.

“Alright,” he shouted back. “Okay.” He paused, clearly conflicted with confusion about this, but then added. “I'll trust you.”

Obi-Wan was so relieved by seeing, hearing, and feeling Anakin's acceptance that he briefly closed his eyes and released a soft breath that he hadn't been aware of holding. "Thank you." It was still loud, possibly more emphatic than the situation superficially warranted, but on a number of levels...

This conversation had to happen, and it could not happen now. When it was all said and done, if things didn't start to go awry with losing the fight against Dooku, then there would be time to talk. Not much, perhaps, but this time he would make the time.

[OOC: Would skipping them through the canon fight and picking up somewhere in the aftermath work for you? They both get knocked down pretty good in that fight, might be an opportunity to exploit?]

[OOC Pause: So, do we want to keep the fight the same? Or do we want to change that fight so it's more favorable for them? Should arm-loss still happen? Should Dooku still get away?]

[PM incoming]

Chief Healer, Master Vokara Che, was a formidable looking Jedi for reasons Anakin couldn’t quite pinpoint. She carried an air of intense calmness, as oxymoronic as that seemed; but however it was that she managed to maintain order over her medical wing of the Jedi Temple, Anakin found himself obeying. Perhaps that might have been due more to the injuries he’d sustained on Geonosis than the Jedi Master’s ability to control the Padawan who seemed forever out of control.

The duel with Dooku had been largely successful. The former Jedi was in custody – Anakin and Obi-Wan had managed to keep him from boarding his personal ship long enough for Master Yoda to arrive and finish what they’d started.

But the capture of the Separatist Leader (and only known Sith at the moment), had come at a cost. Lightsabers hurt and left wounds in need of immediate medical attention, and Force-lightning burned from the inside out. Anakin had never felt so tired or sore in his life. Even counting that time he had to dive into the gundark nest to save Obi-Wan.

He was seriously contemplating listening to Master Che’s instructions that he get sleep when a knock came at the door – he knew who it was, the Force told him it was Obi-Wan.

And then Anakin seriously considered pretending to be asleep.

He was expecting a lecture filled with reprimands for all the mistakes he’d made between leaving for Naboo and now – going to Tatooine without permission, going to Geonosis against orders, losing his lightsaber, the display of his feelings for Padmé, and the list went on.

He could barely keep his thoughts in check, bouncing from his mother, to the battle, to Padmé, and back again to repeat. He couldn’t see how it would be a good idea to add a confrontation with his Master to that.

But when would he ever be emotionally ready to handle that? His feelings for Padmé weren’t going anywhere. His mother’s death felt like a wound that would never heal. And the battle couldn’t be erased from his memory.

He got up from his bed and answered the door.

[OOC: Lemme know if you want me to change anything about this, like the separate room thing and Obi-Wan coming to Anakin’s room.]

Things had changed, already, far more than he'd anticipated. If they had changed for the better or the worse, he was not prepared to guess.

Anakin had been willing to listen to him, to wait and they'd been able to press forward together. They'd defeated him, with some help from Master Yoda at the end. He was captured. Anakin still had all of his limbs firmly attached, even if they were a bit singed in places.

For his part....

He could not have possibly cared less. A few injuries were a small price to pay for a second chance to right what had gone wrong. What he'd done wrong, and hadn't been able to see until years later. He'd spent so long trying to be a good Jedi (or to be seen as one), that he hadn't been able or willing to see that that image was the last thing Anakin had needed.

He still didn't know what he was going to tell Anakin; he'd hardly had time to rehearse. But he could talk. He could tell him, he could try.

Anakin answering his knock and stepping inside so the door could close behind them was the first step. The second was opening his mouth to say, "I'm proud of you."

It was possibly not going to be the most eloquent speech he'd ever given, but it was the single most important thing he had to say - and regretted never having said.

Anakin was speechless, for obvious reasons. It was a good stretch of time where he just stood there with confusion knitting his brow while he stared at Obi-Wan.

The first explanation that came to mind was his Master was suffering from a head injury. Jedi sought not for fame nor recognition, a platitude taken so far that initiates and padawans learned to accept a lack of reprimand to mean a ‘job well done’. As much as Anakin had always wanted to hear those word, he simply didn’t know how to handle being out right praised.

“Master, are you alright? Should I call for Master Che?”

"I would prefer that you didn't.". There was some trace of humor there, both self-depreciating and not. She was formidable. He'd also prefer to avoid close contact with Yoda. For all he knew, though, this was all the result of a head injury, heat-sickness or even a hallucination prior to dying. If not, he'd just as as soon not be investigated or questioned too closely.

"Sit down. I promised you answers and conversation. I'd like to give them to you, but neither of us is fit to stand around while I do."

Anakin had half a mind to just call Master Che anyways. If there was something seriously wrong with his Master, the last thing he’d want was to prolong the time before he could access proper treatment. Part of a Padawan’s duty was looking out for their Master.

But another thought occurred to Anakin – Master Che was a very competent healer, a head injury wouldn’t slip her notice

Slowly he lowered himself to the bed. This was new territory, he didn’t know how to respond. But he was good at poking where he ought not, and not acting in his own best self-interest.

“You’re not going to reprimand me for going to Geonosis…?” he started. “Or Tatooine?”

No, a head injury wouldn't escape Master Che's notice. Having incurred one during the events Anakin was privy to would have taken a bit of doing, as well.

Being here now felt more real to Obi-Wan than anything had in a very long time. More Jedi around for him to feel, and that was a bit heady, almost disorienting. It wasn't something he was inclined to complain about, of course, but it was also something that he wasn't paying nearly enough attention to.

He had a goal. Everything else was secondary to that goal.

"No." Just that, to start with, until he'd settled himself carefully into the uncomfortable chair beside Anakin's bed. "I can't say that I would have done anything differently, in your situation. Did I ever tell you that I once left the Jedi?"

This conversation was going to be miserable. He hoped it was worth it.

“No…” Anakin said hesitantly; and quietly, mentally checked, and ruled out, Obi-Wan had been replaced with a very life-like android. No, his Master was still very much a bio-sentient.

It was impossible to accept that as a true statement. The problem was, in Anakin’s mind, Obi-Wan had come fully formed as the emotionally distant, adherent-to-the-Code-to-a-fault, perfect Jedi he’d met on Padmé’s royal transport some ten years previous. The biggest change in his Master Anakin could think of was the beard, Obi-Wan didn’t have that when Anakin first met him.

It was a mistake to think his Master didn’t have a past previous to their meeting, but it was hard to fathom he could have been a reckless, impetuous Padawan. The journey from point A to point B was one his brain could connect.

“When? Why?”

If Obi-Wan hadn't been impetuous and reckless, willing to disregard both rules and the advice of those wiser than he, Anakin would never have become his (or likely anyone else's) Padwan.

It had occurred to him more than once that if someone else had taken Anakin, Anakin would have been better off. The problem of course being that no one else had been willing. What Anakin was left with was someone who'd just been a Padwan himself, and who had just lost his own Master. Maybe that was why he'd tried so hard to project the image of being a far better Jedi than he'd ever actually been.

Maybe that was why he was trying so very hard to rectify that now.

"I fell in love." That was as bald as he could make it. Even now, trying to rectify the misconceptions and mistakes, he felt himself emotionally withdrawing from the impact of that statement, making it harsher, flatter and colder than he wanted. "Her name was Cerasi."

They butted heads over so many different topics. Anakin couldn’t stay on task to save his life unless he had a constant reminder to do so, and he usually responded to those reminders with pure stubbornness, which more often than not resulted in more arguing. And he might vent his frustrations, justified or not, at all the wrong times. But despite it all Anakin wouldn’t exchange his Master for any other.

Obi-Wan was the only father he’d ever known, even if he didn’t listen like he should. And though their start was rocky – Anakin had heard what Obi-Wan had said to Master Qui-Gon on that windy Coruscant landing pad before they left for the fate-changing battle on Naboo ten years ago – Anakin had come to prefer Obi-Wan’s company over any other Jedi.

And think what his Master may, Anakin probably would have driven any other Jedi completely mad by now.

Anakin was once again struck speechless.

‘Love’ and his Master’s name in the same sentence had never happened in Anakin’s memory unless it pertained to the compassion for all living things ascribed by their Code. He’d suspected there might be something more between him and Master Tachi, but that was only a hunch, there were no overt instances Anakin could pinpoint as proof.

“Are you-?”

Only now did Anakin think about why, why was his Master telling him this now?

Padmé.

His behavior on the transport when Padmé fell out. And the less than appropriate way he didn’t push her away when the duel with Dooku was over and she’d come to his side to check on him. Even now he knew she was waiting back at her apartment for him to contact her the first chance he got.

“You’re telling me this because of Padmé,” he said; first shame at being discovered and then anger flared up inside him. Forgotten was how this conversation started with Obi-Wan saying he was proud, which, if remembered, would have tempered Anakin’s rising emotions. It was his habit to jump to conclusions. "You're here to tell me to end it!”

Obi-Wan probably should have seen that coming. It wasn't precisely unusual for Anakin to jump to conclusions, or to be defensive about things he perceived as wrong.

He hadn't seen it coming, anyway.

"What? No!" Though there truly was no good way to tell Anakin that Cerasi had died in his arms without it sounding like some sort of warning, particularly in the aftermath of the loss of his mother. "I am telling you that if we were immune to love, we'd be a horribly sad group of people. And that loving her isn't a... flaw."

Obi-Wan Kenboi | Star Wars | OTA

Pfft, flying is the best thing ever!

Re: Pfft, flying is the best thing ever!

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Incoming TL;DR

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One pigheadded padawan jumping to conclusions coming through...

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