2008-11-01 - Meditations On The Force

A Corellian shuttle, it seems, is always eager to return to its home. The Medical Initiative glides slowly into awaiting docking clamps for a refuel, and with a final shudder of its frame as the loading ramp lowers, it drifts into pleasant rest.
From it, swaddled in sandy robes, strides a small figure. Greeted by the cool, fresh air, and the morning sun after a rainy Corellian night, Liam tosses back his hood, letting his shaven head bask in the warm light, stepping into the morning crowds in the direction of the city.
 "Hello," Dagon lets out, as Liam steps out into the crowded spaceport. It moves accordingly that way, with a datapad in hand, before offering it to the boy. "I would like you to accompany me. A pilgrimage. But I need to know something first-- is there any place to meditate on Corellia?"
 The greeting given in return is a bowed head and closed eyes. "Ah, /you/. Pilgrimage?" Gray eyes snap open to regard the robed creature, a long time, in silence. Finally, he speaks in a whisper, "There are too many ears here." His hands move to lift his hood back over his head. "Meet me at the market square in an hour, we will discuss this further. If to meditate is what you wish, you have a long way to go."
 "I agree," Dagon whispers, then bows his head once to Liam. "I understand, and will be there," he says, bowing his head again as he moves out of the spaceport- perhaps to prepare himself for meditation and the discussion.
It's been an hour, and as such, Dagon returns to the spaceport, probably to look for little Mr. L'hnnar. His red eyes scan the area, and soft steps may not herald his presence, after all, in this crowded place.
 In his own right, the little L'hnnar prefers to go incognito, as well. At the far end of the spaceport, at the junction between it and the crowded markets, the boy wrapped in robes says nothing, merely slipping further into the bustle of sentients. 
FORCE: You establish telepathic contact with Dagon and transmit a calm feeling and a vision: Amidst the many creatures, clothed in many colors, the sandy robes of a tiny form are visible as if it were alone all along. The figure motions with a small hand, then enters the markets, leading the way.. You then transmit the telepathic message: "Come, we will walk. And see where your heart lies."
 Following some kind of unseen direction, Dagon seems to stride into the Treasure Ship Row, glancing around as thought it had never been in this part of Coronet.
 Again, the boy weaves and dances through the crowds, further ahead. Perhaps, it is but a morning shopper, wandering through the many brightly-colored stalls and shops. He leads the way, deeper, deeper, then, to the massive gate at the end of the warehouses. Beyond it, the smell of earth is powerful. Overwhelming, for those used to the city air.
FORCE: You establish telepathic contact with Dagon and transmit a calm feeling and a vision: Again, the robed shape is easy to make out amidst crowds. It weaves ahead, then stands at a massive durasteel portal to an untamed world.. You then transmit the telepathic message: "The Force is life. It does not judge. Let me show you where it is strongest, and, perhaps, then, it will ease the emotional burden you carry."
Following the boy, but what seems to be blindly- which is a fatal mistake, sometimes- Dagon seems to wander out of the way of bystanders and other passerbys, out into the forest with the earthly scent. It removes its mask, hair falling upon the man's face, and he continues on his way.
FORCE: You experience a curious feeling and receive a vision: Dagon... or perhaps a very familiar Vanixian male, strides past the gates, into the forest clearing. Red eyes scan the surroundings, but all in all, the man's expression is stoic. 
You think of Dagon ...
 Liam leads them into Corellia's forests. Few wander the small paths between trees, the grass eager to take back what was once its own. Columns of trees form architecture overhead, branches intertwining enough to create a spectacular canopy of reds and golds that lets only select rays of sunlight through.
Here, the boy sheds his hood, taking a deep breath. The air is thick with moisture, cool with the coming winter. "There is no need for masks, mister. The Force was always with you, no matter which direction you took."
His back to the man, Liam continues ahead. "I hope your legs are ready for a walk. We will go to the sea. To understand the Force, you must know were life comes from. It is how I learned, how I restrained myself. In you is doubt and fear, anger and hate, all things we feel as humans. Let us find out what brought them out so viciously." He turns his head over his shoulder, revealing a soft smile.
 The cowl of his robe lowered, Dagon, formerly known by another name, nods once and actually returns Liam's soft smile. A puddle of rainwater is stepped upon by him, then another, then another, but the man doesn't seem to mind. In fact, he looks down upon it and grins softly. 
"It's been awhile since I've been out in the wilderness. But I like it." he states, glancing up and his eyes close, slowly. Trying to reach out to the tranquility of the Force, to feel things beyond mere human senses.
 An endless hike, it seems, then a long trek through tireless stretches of sharp grass. It clips at cloth, snags on boots, protests at pedestrians. Finally, there is a respite in the walking, the child turns, face flushed with his own exertion and the much crisper air of the churning seas.
Here, the sun is hidden behind thick, rain-heavy clouds. Over Corellia's oceans, they always storm. A spectacular sight to behold, as water touches sea and air, joins by flashes of electricity. Robes flap and strain against limbs as Liam turns again to face the man of several names.
"Science tells us that life came from the sea. But, look how violent it is - it is the raw power of the Force. But, as it storms, the waves bring lots of oxygen below the surface - the sea life is abundant here, those hardy enough to survive the climate, that is," a simple lecture on biology, the boy raises an arm out to indicate the water.
"Go, into the water." The index finger of his arm extends out to the crashing waves. "That is what you seek, is it not? Go. Enter it. Feel it."
 "The waves. I can feel it. Ever constant, ever present. They never stop..." 
Dagon slips off his boots and starts to wander into the open seas... first, the feet, and he gets used to the temperature, then, as he wanders down, the depth increases, and now he's knee deep into the water. 
Inhale, exhale. Inhale. 
The sea up in the horizon reflects in his reddened gaze, and he bows his head, stoic.
 The waves are as eager as they are icy, the current strong and demanding. It latches on with its deathly grip, fingers clawing into flesh and bone as it climbs the length of fabric, urging the body to accompany it deeper, deeper. Warmer, it promises, beneath the surface.
"You are not a fish!" The boy has to yell over the sounds of the sea. "You haven't the gills to survive, no matter how rich it is in oxygen!" Shouting brings an uneven strain to his voice, the boy soprano slowly bending to the whims of coming age. "You can swim, you can feel the rush, but you cannot survive in it!"
"But, you are not too far out! Come back to solid ground. Walk and breathe as a man!"
 Maybe this is some sort of prophetic happening- because the waves make Dagon lose his foothold, and he starts to be dragged by the sea. A hand sticks up into the air, and the man struggles against the sea, going deeper and deeper each moment! Legs collide against the density of waves, and he tries to fight the possibility of drowning, before being engulfed whole. 
Underneath the cold, merciless waters, he opens his eyes: dark, dark, dark. There is the promise, but a mere glint, of light up in the skies from what he can see, and he tries to commit to his memory and direction sense- swimming towards the surface.
 It is a cruel lesson, a baptism by fire-- or ice, as it may be. Black and merciless, the water tightens its grip around anything it can. But you are a fish! Come join your brothers, it encourages, seeking any room in mouth or nose. Join with me! The wicked seductress. At least she is honest in one regard, deeper down, it is much warmer.
On the rocky banks, Liam frowns, crossing his arms over his chest. He takes a long, deep breath, allowing his eyes to close. The usual senses have no place here.
FORCE: You establish telepathic contact with Dagon and transmit a hopeful feeling and a vision: In the darkness, a tiny light ahead. Just out of reach. It, too, beckons encouragingly, but lacks the eager tug of the darkness around it.. You then transmit the telepathic message: "Remember, you are a man! Fight the water, swim upward. Swim upward and breathe! And live, Fiero! Live!"
 No. This must be resisted. Even the lure of the warmth of the depths does not compare to the sun's promises. Dagon swims, reaching out for the surface, fighting a current that just doesn't seem to want to let go. But the Force is with him, it flows through him- and he uses what he's learned. It is not death that he fears, it is not anger that he feels. 
His emotions, the stronger, more intense, more passionate ones, are slowly set aside, despite their pull, their stranglehold on this man's soul. He fights, resists, struggles against fears, hate, anger. And his whole life seems to flash before his eyes, and he gets distracted, but nevertheless, he continues to fight. Not eagerly, but patiently. The waves that drag, are the same waves that push forward... so he takes advantage of that knowledge, and tries to look for that light. He swims upward, bubbles pouring out of his nose in a sharp exhale... 
A hand sticks out. 
Then another.
 Shedding his robes and boots to the rocks on shore, and pants hiked up to his knees, Liam moves to join the man in the water, though daring to go no further than ankle-deep. He merely waits, toes digging into loose rocks and sand for stability. After all, these is nothing metaphysical about the ocean, itself. It is merely a terrible, stormy place. Especially for those who do not know how to swim.
"You're almost there! Swim!" He shouts encouragingly at the struggling man. "Just a bit more!"
 Just a bit more. Dagon seems to be dragged back by the ever-strong waves, but slowly gains the upper hand. A first foot is secured upon the depths, whenever he can reach, then the other. Slow, careful and patient steps are taken, and the drag of the sea is resisted. Water drips, before, little by little, the man arises from the sea, reddish eyes faint, almost a brown. A step towards finding the light- and resisting the pull of this darkness.
A step, to redeem himself from all those feelings that dragged him down to the bottom of the sea once, that has drowned and mutated his body.
 Liam waits for him, a tiny, bald beacon against dark rocks and waves, lips spread into a crescent of a smile. "Welcome back," he calls in that uneven voice of his. "Now." His smile grows impish, youthful cheeks dimpling. "Now, you can meditate." He starts back to the shore and his things, shivering. "But, don't worry. It is not a long walk."
 "Thanks," Dagon says, with a bit of a shiver, as he wanders towards Liam, slowly. A faint smile touches his lips, and he nods once. "Meditate sounds good," he says, and wanders toward his things as well- or, at least, the things he'd dropped along the course. And though he feels like using the Force to fetch them, the first lesson, he remembers, is restraint. Never do anything you cannot do with your own hands. 
"I don't mind long walks."
 The boy redresses quickly, stuffing icy toes into booted warm. Then, taking a long look at the man, holds out his own robe for him. "You'll need it more than I." Liam appraises the man with a skeptic's eyes, shrewd in their wash of silver.
"You have not fully left the sea, however," And not just literally. "Tied down by the past, the frustrations there. To move forward, you must let go of what caused you grief and anger."
A pale sword his index finger becomes, pointing to the man's belt and the metal cylinders that hang from it. "Starting with those. Destroy them."
 Dagon nods once, and heads to his lightsabers. He kneels before both of them, taking first the silver one. A button is depressed, and a green jewel slips out of it, which he tucks neatly within his robe. Then, the second, the most painful and corrupted one. He takes it, and splits it apart, a reddish-yellow crystal slipping into his hand.
 Liam watches impassively as his request is fulfilled. "They are weapons of destruction as much as they are tools of defense. The Force, I have learned, is life. Let us walk back to wear life is calm and dominates over whatever previous instruction you received..." With a wave of a hand, he heads back into the razorgrass.
 "I understand." Fiero says, and tucks his green crystals somewhere within his robe. They will be safe, at least for now. Or so he would hope. His brown eyes study Liam, and he nods once to the boy. "I appreciate your help, and hope that you will help me towards my pilgrimage."
 The boy follows the path cleared in their earlier trek, then turns, sharply, heading south. Away from the ocean, the breeze is calmer and warmer, and occasionally, the sun will grace the plains with its presence. Ahead, white stones, crumbled pillars, and ruin greet the two. Liam motions for quiet, indicating armed guards lounging lazily. They appear to not have noticed the travelers yet.
The boy points upwards to one of the spires still largely intact, a section of its wall has collapsed, exposing the interior gut. With a quick nod, he rushes ahead, bounding silently between rocks, higher, higher, boot catching traction off one, then another, until he finishes the jump within the spire itself.
Bending down, he offers a hand. 
 Sneaking past the guards, though perhaps not as agilly as the boy, Fiero's brown eyes focuses on the kid and he smiles once, whatever thought crossing his mind apparently pleasant enough for a reminiscence. 
He glances over the edge of the pit, unhesitating, and begins to climb down, taking Liam's hand for support before he finishes a leap down. Indeed, it's not too hard.
 The boy leads deeper into the ruined compound, through treacherous leaps and broken halls, finally coming to a a small, round room. The chamber has been its better days, littered with debris from the areas above. Sunlight filters in above, casting light into the room, the rest beyond it into darkness. Little pools of rainwater give birth to life - small shrubs, flowering grasses, all sticking their roots in for growth.
"This used to be a Jedi compound.. I think, a long, long time ago. Now, it is one with the Force," Liam explains, as they leave the place to proceed down the stairs. Some climbing and jumping further, and they are in a place untouched, despite the many years. A soft draft floats in from somewhere overhead, bringing the fresh air of the grasses inside.
"This is a good place. Quiet. You can rest your mind here without threat of being disturbed or tempted. I... frequently came here. After the invasion."
 "The Hutt invasion?" Fiero asks of Liam, after this rather dangerous trip- if both weren't strong with the Force, that is. 
His brown eyes readjust to the darkness, but the few rays of light that reach the room help his sight, and he nods once, easily bypassing the obstacles Mother Nature presents here.
 "Yes. I lost my.. parents, then." Liam admits after some hesitation. "Not a day goes by when I do not think of revenge on the Hutts and those who serve them, or served them during the war." The boy sighs, looking away from his companion to the features of the room.
"But, that is not the way of the Force. It only leads to more heartache and death." What better place than in a chamber of mourning. "Carry what you love close to you, but do not let it sway you from what you know is right."
"Spend as long as you need here. Sometimes, I'd run away for days." He finally cracks a grin again. "I wouldn't hear the end of it from Father, when I finally came back."
 "I understand the feeling. I lost my wife, my parents and other people I cared for during a clan dispute on Vanix. This was the start of my pains," Fiero admits, and kneels as he glances around the room. He's sympathetic. 
"I'm still wanted there, you know, for killing one of the champions of my own Clan. This..." he sighs, "is why I'm never in a single place at once. I just can't put myself to settle down and stay anywhere." 
"Love. Yes." He smiles faintly, perhaps another memory, in passing, through his mind.
 "The Force is strong in you," Liam admits. "Those you loved are with it, now. Part of the cycle. Let them guide you back from where you fell. As the Force is with you, so are they."
The boy reaches out and places a hand on the other's shoulder, now in his reach. The touch is warm, almost hot, after the frigid grip of death and the ocean. As his fingers tighten in a reassuring squeeze, physical pain might ebb away, slowly, as the warmth spreads.
"There is hope, for everyone..." And to that, he draws his hand away, pensive, features forming a thoughtful frown.
 "There is." Fiero agrees, falling silent as well as he sits down onto the ground, and closes his eyes, starting to meditate. 
The Force flows through him, indeed, and now he has to fight the internal struggle- the one that he lost, at first, but is now trying to fight against. Forget the fears, the anger, the revenge. No pain... no hurt.
 There are some paths, a man must then walk alone when he has been shown their location. Liam watches in silence, feels in silence. Then, he turns to leave, hopefully, in silence. But, he has never bunch much the stealthy sort, first colliding with an urn, then stumbling awkwardly, before righting himself to proceed in nervous tiptoe from the chamber, with only the occasional side glance to make sure he has not accidentally broken any concentration.
When the lumbering bantha of a child is gone, the chamber settles into the same peace it has been in for untold generations, unmarred. Should one reach out with more than the physical body limits them to, the domed ceiling provides an amazing amphitheater for the vast amounts of life around the planet. From the razorflies nesting amidst the grasses, to the worms in the soil, all the way to the fishes in the wicked ocean not to far away. And... even more distant, the teaming hubs of planetary life.
Category:November 2008 RP Logs