glowfic | The theme of the day is

Revan could get used to Coruscant's nice effects. The refresher is glorious, the beds are so soft he thinks they might have found a way to literally let him sleep on clouds, the food is fantastic, and he has a wonderful new set of robes that are completely free of holes, burned bits, and general wear and tear. He is convinced he's being horribly, horribly spoiled, and something will threaten the Republic in a year or two and force him back into living out of a tiny overcrowded starship.

He is even more convinced when he opens a door and it is not a hallway, but instead a bar.

After a few seconds of peering, he calls Canderous on his comm, lets him know that he has found something weird and bizarre instead of the door from his room to the hallway. Canderous comes by with his big gun and informs him that the door is closed, from the other side, and cannot be opened.

Right then. Revan is technically still equipped to kill half of an army, isn't he. Let's see what's in here. He tells Canderous he is going exploring, and Canderous tells him to give them hell if they try to kill him. Proof that he cares.

Inside goes Revan, looking around curiously.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"I'm not sure. Time, maybe? Also patience if you don't know what you're doing. People have been training Force sensitives for a long time, and it's still kind of hard to train people. Half the time it feels more like a religion than a way to ultimate power. I don't know how it got started. I wouldn't know if it's possible or not in your world."

"If there were Force sensitives in my world, the Lakewalkers would've noticed," says Sable.

He nods. "Makes sense. Maybe it's just my world then, which - not entirely a bad thing, lots of Force sensitives go crazy and evil. So."

Edited 2015-11-23 23:45 (UTC)

"What, in a go mad with power sense?"

"Ehhh. Sort of? Not quite? It's a whole thing, actually. Creatively called the dark side by Force users. Force users go a bit crazy, think that murdering puppies is a swell idea, maybe want to take over the galaxy... it's not pretty."

"Sounds a lot like red lyrium," says Stalas.

"I did compare the two earlier," agrees Revan, amused.

"And now I've heard enough to agree with you."

"Pity your blood can't fix the dark side. ... I think. Can it fix the dark side? Hey, Saevetei, give me back my sword?"

Saevetei looks up from her work at copying things, and slides the sword to Revan.

"You have telekinesis," she says dryly.

"Yes, because moving sharp things with my mind is a fantastic idea."

"Point taken. ... Not literally."

Revan snorts.

"Stalas! Can I have more of your blood, I want to see if you are the cure for all crazy evil things."

"Sure. I'm going to guess no, but go for it."

"I also guess no, but there's no reason not to check." He floats another bit of Stalas blood to rest on the sword. He peers at it, thoughtful.

"Nope, still a bit of evil dark side residue. Damn. No one is surprised."

"My blood curing red lyrium at least made some sort of logical sense because my blood has lyrium in it, which most people's doesn't."

"Yeah. It's kind of great how we're all weird."

"Speak for yourself."

...Stalas tries to stifle his laughter, but fails.

Revan raises an eyebrow, but obligingly says, "Statement redacted, then, with apologies."

"Apology accepted. I'm mostly making fun, but it's true that I don't like to define myself by my spectacular accidents."

She pauses, looks consideringly at the cackling dwarf, and adds, "Don't hurt yourself, Stalas."

He continues laughing, but waves vaguely in a gesture probably intended to indicate that he is fine.

"That's fair," agrees Revan.

The machine that is studying Sable's arm dings.

"Excellent," says Saevetei. "That's done. Sable, your arm is free."

"Freedom!" she cheers, reclaiming her arm and immediately picking up her sign again. "Hey, should we all be writing signs about the dangers and resources of our worlds, I wonder? For whoever comes in next."

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