epidemiology | ( closed. )

[ on the accorded day ( read: literally the day they returned to oska ), anakin knocks on the door. his is a more hopeful outlook than he has worn all mission, but an edge half expectation, half nervousness has him wound tight as a spring.

we are at the center of the multiverse.

anakin starts out of his reverie when he receives a response. he answers with his name, inhaling deeply in an attempt to regain his jedi composure. he manages a small smile when the door opens. ]

Is this a good time?

[ between the chaos of leaving and the chaos of reintegrating into life in the castle, anakin hadn’t had time to take loki up on his challenge. ( actually, anakin’s challenge. memory is a fickle thing. )

tonight, however, feels like a good time to drink himself into unconsciousness.

whatever loki brought with him is strong and feels not unlike what drinking fuel must. seated on a blanket on the floor ( the bed, like most other flat surfaces in his room, having almost vanished beneath half-finished projects, assorted parts, pieces of scrap ), anakin hides his mouth behind his gloved hand. not-r2 whirs away from him. ]

What is that? [ he asks even as he extends the cup for a refill.

anakin will not remember any of this. ]

Still with me?

[ an easy question easily spoken, but the narrowed focus anakin pays stiles belies the feigned nonchalance. he opens himself to the force, allowing him to glean more information on the other’s state than his eyes and ears alone can provide.

an hour into the first practice and it is going about as well as can be expected. which is to say a little miserable for one of them. anakin donned his curiosity like patience. if this shield works, the mind trick will be wholly ineffective. that's the point, and no great loss. many species are immune; among those who aren't any with a strong will is not affected.

his question lies a little deeper. in his arrogance, anakin does not believe anything alastair-given can prove more than the force. but the limits interest him. ]

[ some part of him, the part of him that spent a day and half a night marathoning everything to do with Star Wars, fills with boyish glee and wonderment of Anakin Skywalker's room. while he's not Billy Kaplan, flaunting his knowledge and flapping his hands excitedly, there's still a little lift in his chest as he glances around his room, taking in the sights and carefully tucking them away.

he's half seated, half lounging on the floor, leaning back on the palm of his hand when Anakin requests more. ]

Mead. [ he says it carefully. then, collecting the amber bottle, he pours. his fingers are clasped at the base, turning the neck to stop the steady stream of dark, syrupy liquid. there's no mention of the Asgardian part of that.

it's strong (very strong), thick, and warm. it's a story of wine, of the soft hands of Idunn picking the apples from her trees, the bees collecting the pollen from the blossoms, the casks made from old ships touched by frost; it was all of that. a small taste of divinity.

luckily Loki doesn't pour too liberally. ] The drink of the gods. You have to get the Force drunk on something good.

[ Lloyd stands in the doorway, the magical light of the castle glancing off the plates of his synthetic body. His expression hoists itself into a smile at the sight of Anakin, and while genuine, the gesture is perhaps inhibited by its, well, robotic nature. ]

I've been expecting you! Come in.

[ Lloyd's tone is genial but measured, and he steps aside to admit Anakin. The room is sparse in furnishings and decoration, four grey stone walls lit with glowing magic orbs, and a desk in the middle with two chairs in front of it. Behind the desk, at the very top of the wall, is a single barred window letting in some filtered sunlight. Piles of paper lie haphazardly about, tagged here and there with post-its in a rainbow of colours. Lloyds leads Anakin straight to his desk, where he's set up a manila folder, two steaming cups, and an assortment of teas for Anakin to choose from. There will likely be some kind Anakin recognizes, though others with no name or even script he can make out, scents alien and not always inviting. ]

I told you I'd have some ready. Pick something you like.

[ he'd taken exactly one step forward when Anakin had looked at him and told him you will walk over here, an easy start to it all, an easier one that he'd expected, really — one step before his head had snapped up, eyes refocusing, drawing in a shaky breath like he'd forgotten how to breathe for a second there.

(half an hour later, he wishes it had worked on the first try. his head is on fire and he feels vaguely like throwing up. Anakin hadn't been kidding when he said it wouldn't be the most pleasant of feelings. another half an hour and he's faintly sure his head will never stop hurting. a sacrifice he can make, if this starts working. it's been working, ten seconds there, two minutes here, but it's fickle, like his focus.)

the question comes as Stiles is catching his breath, eyes closed, mind trying to cling to the visualized door inside his head. don't lose your focus, he tells himself. focus. ]

Y — yeah. I mean, I wasn't... [ a breath, then another. deep and even. he opens his eyes and looks Anakin Skywalker straight in the eyes. ]

Okay. I'd tell you to "do your worst", but I'm pretty sure that's where you started. [ no, it isn't — he knows full well what worst would be, when talking to the one in front of him. this doesn't come anywhere near it. ]

[ anakin smiles wryly. ]

Not quite. [ he leaves the response vague. though he knows nothing yet of the atrocities for which darth vader will gain notoriety — and though every deed committed until this point has been rationalized to fall into the realm of "good" — ( and he ignores the play of color that washed across a desert night as he ignores the sound of two lightsabers pulling together. )

he could do a lot worse. that he has no intention to has him reach out. anakin's gloved hand clasps stiles' shoulder. ]

I think that's enough for today.

[ a different application of the force: no persuasion; no targeting of the mind. a relaxing sensation spreads from the point of contact. like sinking back into a pool of cool, clear water and floating. the contact lasts only a second before anakin removes his hand and stands. ]

We can continue tomorrow.

[ three years of a war and anakin cannot enter a room with looking around. and he is admittedly curious as to how the more senior members live. he finds only a utilitarian, well-lived in room.

seating himself, he picks the tea least objectionable to his nose for himself. so far nothing has gone as he would have expected — as he had been taught to expect by the council — and lloyd is as placid and amiable as their conversations had led him to believe. cautiously optimistic despite himself, anakin relaxes by degrees.

as the gloved fingers of his prosthetic hand wrap around the cup, he nods to the folder. ]

What is that?

The Force or me?

[ anakin paces himself a little more this time, but he can already feel the warmth spreading from his torso through his remaining limbs. this may have been a mistake, but he's in no position to be aware of it.

anakin skywalker's room is meticulously clean if not organized. even so, anakin will argue it is; he can find everything. anakin skywalker himself is as undressed as loki has ever seen him: clad in an under tunic so dark it is almost black and pants and the ever-present glove covering his artificial right hand. the ring gift of alastair is a small bulge underneath the tunic.

anakin takes another sip and makes a face. ]

We could have used this back on Coruscant.

[ for the nights when sleep simply wouldn't come. or following a day that all he wanted to do was forget. it's not a very jedi-like impulse but whether due to time or drink anakin is past caring. ]

[ he doesn't answer the first part. ]

Not unless the gods themselves decided to visit.

[ the bottle goes back to Loki's glass, and he pours himself a little more, as if he were instilling some kind of silent challenge. ]

...

[ the stream stops, and Loki stops, and he glances up at Anakin. ]

Are there gods on Coruscant?

No —

[ he starts, sharply, after the pressure of Anakin's hand is no longer on his shoulder, when his entire body feels like it's been submerged in a lake and is suddenly pulled out into cold winter air, chill and fatigue shaking his limbs.

quieter, ] No. No, I can still... one more. Just one more time. I almost had it the last time, there's just... I know I can do it, I just need to figure out the key.

[ he knows Anakin is right, he already feels like crap, they should just call it a day... but he's never been good at stopping, even when he knows he should. he looks at Anakin, imploring. ] Please, one more time. Then we can stop. I can take it, I swear.

[ Certainly, Lloyd's nature might mark him as a good actor, but it's not in his nature as an individual to hide who he is. It's part of what he loves about ALASTAIR: there's no rigidity here, no expectation to be anything other than his own self. ]

Transfer papers.

[ He says it even as he's setting aside the tea, casual and relaxed. Moving back, he opens the folder, revealing a page entitled REQUEST FOR TEAM TRANSFER in neat, black font. ]

That is--if you're still thinking about it.

[ They're here to discuss, not for Anakin to feel pressured. Lloyd's body, as it turns out, can drink, because he takes a sip of his own tea while waiting for Anakin to let him know. ]

About as many as there are species. [ the careless answer of one who believes in none of them even seated across from one himself.

anakin swirls the liquid in the cup, watching the play of light. ] Most are just a different name for the Force. The Force is all that is.

[ the liquid lifts from the cup. it ebbs, extends, contracts, as pliable and easy to manipulate as clay. anakin watches it idly, a strange little smile on his face. ]

But my master would be very upset to see me doing this. "Ana-kin," [ his voice shifts to a frighteningly accurate imitation of obi-wan, ] "the Force is not a plaything."

[ anakin studies him for a moment, silent, then — ]

Why a shield?

[ he takes his seat again, hands folded inside his sleeves. ]

You could have requested anything.

I am. [ anakin takes the time to look them over, enough to make it seem like he is still as confident in this decisions as he had been. there is no other reason. he has nothing to compare them to; transfer wasn't something among the jedi. they remained with the order until they died — or they left, the masters to become one of the lost, knights and padawans to be forgotten.

anakin doesn't take a drink. instead he folds his hands inside his sleeves, distracted, a little frown marring his brow. ]

What should I expect? If I go through with it?

I didn't, that's the point.

[ he realizes that isn't a very clear explanation and elaborates quickly, sighing as he promptly sits down on the ground, too exhausted to even keep standing up. ]

I didn't ask for anything, they just... gave it to me. Out of the blue. I guess they thought I... needed it. [ not wanted; needed. ]

A shield for the one running headlong into danger? I can't imagine why.

[ he sarcasms because he cares or something. ]

[ Anakin wavers, watching his glass, and Loki watches him with subdued interest. there's a smile that creeps up his cheeks and then a low chuckle at the imitation. ]

You master certainly wants to keep the toys in the box.

[ it's not something he's unused to seeing, though the means are a little different. ]

[ anakin remembers playing a game with shuura. seated across from padmé, he called the fruit to him before she could cut into it. then he had also mentioned how unhappy obi-wan would be were he present to see.

the smile lingers, though little about it recalls contentment. ]

Jedi don't abuse our powers. [ the mead, still floating, smooths into a perfect sphere. at his urging, it rotates slowly on its axis. the light of the room plays prettily off the moving surface. ] This kind of use is a little irresponsible.

Hey! I don't run into danger, I... [ a pause. a pause that stretches on longer than intended. ] ... uh, walk into it carefully and with a plan?

[ BESIDES, YOU DO IT TOO, MR. DROPS-OUT-OF-A-MOVING-SPEEDER-OVER-CORUSCANT ]

[ that's because he can. see: chosen one, hero with no fear, better than u, etc.

wryly, ] Convincing. But maybe that's the reason you're having difficulty.

[ there's a little quirk in Loki's brow, and he goes back to his mead, taking a sip as if it were suddenly reminding him of home. when he's done, he dismisses the memories. ]

You call this—[ he motions around with a dark nailed finger. ]—abuse? This is just a little fun. Abuse seems like a word to deliberately kill the buzz.

Jedi aren't against fun, are they?

Edited 2017-01-14 19:16 (UTC)

Of course not. [ an immediate protest. ] We're not humorless. It's —

[ anakin finds he can't explain. the crux evades him and so he finally shakes his head. ] Forget it.

[ with a low chuckle, he allows the ball to collapse. gravity splashes the mead back inside his cup. ]

I think this might already be going to my head. [ a beat. ] You said the gods made it?

[ Anakin dismisses it and Loki gives it a shrug, as if the question is entirely forgotten. ]

Hm? Ah, yes. Those of Asgard. The honey comes from the bees that tend to Idunn's apples, then it's fermented for centuries in the frost-bitten planks of ships fallen during their voyages.

[ but he's totally a rebel because it's giving it to mortals anyway. ]

I can only hope that they took this from my old man's private stash. [ there's some glee that comes from saying that aloud. ]

[ r i g h t you keep telling yourself that, buddy. ]

Wait, what? With this? Because... I'm not planning enough? I'm planning too much?

[ ??? his Anakin-English-Anakin dictionary is failing him, pls help, consulting services needed. ]

( closed. )

LLOYD →

LOKI →

STILES →

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject