[Catch-all open] Draw me a map that I can hold

[ from here ]

The look on Rey’s face is incredulous as she absorbs that information, her eyebrows furrowed.

“None of it matters?” She scoffs at him, shaking her head. “So you have what you wanted. A world without any of it.” She understood now why people were whispering about him, why they didn’t seem afraid.

“That was never what I wanted. This isn’t what I want.” She gestures angrily around herself, arms thrown out at her sides. She had been suddenly thrust into a world that hadn’t been her own before. She’d thought she’d found some kind of belonging there, though the pieces had never seemed to fit quite right. The only time they had felt right had been for the two minutes when their purposes had been aligned.

"If you think what happened doesn't matter just because we're somewhere else, you're wrong."

In stark contrast to the animated frustration firing through Rey's nerves, Kylo remains still. Steady. Firm. Without access to the Force, he supposes, it will be impossible for her to tell if he really is as calm as he appears— not that she ever seemed particularly good at understanding the amount of effort he pours into control with every breath he takes. Control is not one of her better talents.

"You don't know what you want," he comments, ignoring her assumptions about his desires for now. She can think whatever she wants about him— he'll show her the truth with what he chooses to do, as he always has. In fact, in a way they find themselves back where they started: Kylo with all the knowledge and Rey in need of a teacher. The irony has his lips twisting.

"And you don't know what matters, yet. Not here. Everything is changed."

Her face flushes angrily as he tells her she doesn't know what she wants and she clenches her hands, wishing she had her staff or lightsaber or anything. People are staring though she finds she cares little what the people on the street might think of her in this moment.

"You've changed?" She replies, her tone almost a challenge. "Because you look even more like that monster who only cares about power now." Chancing a step towards him, and then another, she does realize that yes, he's bigger. He'd already seemed impossibly large, now even moreso. She shakes her head, brow creased. "What did you do?"

He watches intently as she risks a pace forward and then another, eyes never wavering from the intensity of their lock on Rey's face even as she looks him up and down to measure the scale of him— but there's nothing overtly aggressive for her to find in his stance, his balance, the set of his jaw. Only the general aura of menace he carries with him no matter where he is or what he's doing, an unnatural density to the air that passes around him. He is potential danger. Not a directed threat.

Yet. Adjusting to the new relative angle between their eye-levels, his face tilts downward with her movements.

"I haven't changed," he agrees, a brief note of aggrieved bitterness souring the level tone of his voice. Monster, indeed. He is. But not the way she thinks. "I want what I have always wanted. And I will give you the answers to your questions. But not here. These people are under my protection, and you..."

He pauses, gaze swinging out over the crowd beginning to gather before snapping back to Rey's face.

"You are frightening them."

It's strange to her, to be anywhere near him and feel nothing from him. She knows below the surface he's probably churning, but the lack of feedback, when it had been so natural between them before, is almost more jarring than seeing him in flesh again after a year of trying to block him out.

The wound he opens in her when he indicates the gathering crowd, people under his protection is deeper than he may realize. She pulls back like she's been struck, looking around them at the people stopping and staring, whispering. It's a stupid, ugly feeling that lodges in the center of her throat, a jealousy that he cares more for strangers comfort than he'd shown to her. Choking it down she looks back at him, trying to mask the hurt with her anger, the brightness of her eyes always giving her away.

"I wonder if they even know what that really means," she growls, before turning on her heel and walking away briskly. He can follow her or not, she doesn't even care if they don't finish their conversation she's just going to walk until her face stops burning.

[ from here ]

"Leave?" Rey doesn't address the magic, given that she has the Force. It's a kind of magic, she supposes. It's much more than that, but she'd often heard people describe it as magical, as Jedi as "wizards" or other things rooted in fantasy.

"They made it seem like the trip is rather... one way."

Hennessy snorts at that, and waves a hand dismissively.

"They all just yanked us unceremoniously out of our worlds, and they've got this huge source of magical energy that only the Summoned can touch. Do you really think none of us are going to be compelled to find a way back eventually? At least, those of us who aren't so far up the mages' asses that they want to stay."

Here would be better in some ways than home, for Hennessy, if it weren't for the lack of technology and the distinct threat of a horrible and potentially messy death looming over her if the Singularity ever gets seriously out of control. Her ideal scenario involves her going home, Ronan staying here, and everyone living happily ever after. Or at least living.

"People have been here how long and haven't figured it out yet?" It's some odd relief to her, to know that there might be a way to get back. This place isn't where she belongs, that's fairly clear. Maybe back with the Resistance isn't where she belongs either, but here?

Without so much as a droid to repair she doesn't know how she's supposed to find a use for herself outside of battle, and that's only if her Force abilities do come back. Maybe this is the problem she should be working on.

"Most of the people here aren't interested in going home. I can't imagine why."

Not strictly true; Ronan's convinced he's dead back home, so that's at least one person whose motives she can track. Some of the others seem genuinely interested in magic. And Kylo's practically running things; whatever he did back in his world, here is probably at least as good despite the lack of space travel.

"Has anyone given you the tour yet? Have you met your roommates?"

After the shock of ending up in a strange new place wore off, and the Force returned to her, Rey started to show up in the library. It was overwhelming, the first few days she didn't read anything, she just walked the rows, taking it all in. The third time she visited she finally picked up her first book.

She could be found every day after that, reading and sometimes taking notes. There doesn't seem to be much direction to what she picks, a lot of history, but she's also reading about the magic, too. Nothing seems to be particularly off limits.

Not having a lightsaber or even her staff made Rey extremely uneasy, so she was quick to find the quartermaster. Of course, the training swords left much to be desired, and they were much heavier than a lightsaber, so she picked up a quarterstaff as well, a comfortable, familiar weapon.

Still, she is determined to get comfortable with the swords if this place, and the wooden sword offered to her is as good of a start as anything. She doesn't practice in the middle of the yard but rather finds a place a ways away from where others are training, working through it herself.

Her form is passible, but from the way she hacks at the training dummy it's clear to anyone watching she's used to working with a much lighter blade.

Rhy has been practicing his own forms nearby, away from the training dummies, simply going through the motions almost ceremonially, a meditative practice more than anything meant to translate to a real battlefield. All the hacking and erratic slashing is a bit distracting, though.

He watches her for a little bit, the new face in the training yard. One of the newly Summoned.

Then, after a minute or two, Rhy lowers his training sword to his side and walks over to introduce himself.

"Good morning," comes the genial greeting when she appears to take a pause from her attacks. "I'm here to offer unsolicited advice." His smile -- warm, open and friendly -- says he knows exactly how that comes off, and that he hopes she wouldn't mind.

Rey tenses a little out of habit when approached, but she senses no malice so at least she knows he isn't one of Kylo Ren's lackeys. He gets the regular level of slight apprehension, before he so kindly offers advice. Exhaling she rolls her shoulders back as she steps away from the dummy, returning the smile albeit at half capacity.

"I know how to fight, I'm just used to a lighter weapon." She holds the training sword up, giving it an absent twist, the resistance of the blade still alien to her. "What advice do you have?"

"Nothing wrong with choosing a lighter weapon. There are more options to train with if you ask."

Rhy is hardly a master swordsman; he's never even used his blade against another person before, save in casual sparring. His knowledge is all forms and show, but he's practiced them for years as a matter of expectation where he's from.

He steps forward to take her place in front of the dummy and demonstrate.

"Your momentum should come from the hips and carry through. Allow the weight of the weapon and gravity to do most of the work, not your wrists. You don't need to hit the dummy that hard just for training, either. No need to waste your energy. You can focus on form and aim rather than strength."

Mostly, he's just sort of repeating what his own teachers have said in the past, but he's passable at swinging a sword around, so maybe it'll help her. Rhy lowers his weapon again, offering an encouraging smile.

"I'm Rhy, by the way. And you're new."

"I doubt they make a blade light enough to be the same as what I'm used to," she comments a little grimly, though given the magic of this place maybe it is possible. She allows him to demonstrate on the dummy, eyes slightly squinted in concentration as she watches him, taking the way he moves and how he says the hold the blade to heart.

She knows how to fight, it's just a learning curve.

"I'm Rey. I am new." It's not a frustrating statement, but it's one that somehow bothers her all the same. This strange place she knows so little about, it throws her off.

"Really? What kind are you used to?" Rhy asks, genuinely curious. He steps back to give her space again, offering a knowing nod and a commiserating smile.

"I'm sure you've received a welcome already, but I'll extend my own. I've been here a handful of months, myself. If you have questions about settling in, you may ask. No promises I'll have the right answers, but I will have some answers!"

"It's called a lightsaber. Practically weightless, aside from the hilt." The heft of a lightsaber hilt was enough that her adjustment to a more traditional blade won't be fruitless, but it's another whole weapon she has to adjust to, and this time with her blocking Kylo out she doesn't have the advantage of his knowledge seeping through their bond.

"I can always fight with a staff, but sometimes you want something a little more lethal," Rey smiles grimly, rubbing the side of her neck. "I spoke with a girl who said the mages primarily target those with special abilities. What's yours?"

Rhy offers a broad, dimpled grin and spreads his hands as if to say guilty as charged. He answers seemingly in all seriousness:

"Me? I'm devastatingly handsome."

Her description of the weapon she favors sparks an idea, though. At the Essen Tasch, the magical tournament he'd been in charge of organizing only months ago (it feels like a lifetime), some of the rounds are fought using weapons made almost entirely of elements. It is the first thing he thinks of when Rey mentioned that there is almost no weight besides the hilt to the weapon she apparently prefers.

"How are you with magic, Rey? I may have a solution to your problem."

This is something Rhy himself has never done before, having been incapable of anything more than the tiniest flame on a good day back home. Now, with practice, he's grown more confident. He props his training sword against the dummy, then pulls the knife from his belt -- a small, practical thing for everyday use -- and holds it out.

"Naturally, you'd want to have something crafted that would be easier to hold. The type of hilt you're used to. But you could do something like this."

Holding the handle of the knife in one hand, he holds his other above it and concentrates. It's harder to form fire out of air without a spark. He's no magician. But, after an awkward few seconds of nothing in which Rhy mutters something unintelligible in a different language, his long hours of practice pay off.

It's rough, but he manages to present the idea well enough: the fire swirls around the knife tip and extends, to about the length of a half-sword. He manages to hold it there, and mostly in a blade-like shape, for several seconds before it is too difficult to keep in place without burning his fingers, and Rhy dispels the flame with a word.

Being used to Poe's bravado makes it so Rey is able to mostly mask the immediate desire to roll her eyes into the back of her head. She does press her mouth into a thin line and take a very deep breath through her nose, but when he mentions magic he wins her back.

She watches intently as he casts his spell, eyes widening and posture straightening as the blade of his knife grows with flame. It's not a lightsaber by any means, but if the magic of this world can be molded in such ways, maybe...

"I've been reading about it a little, but we don't have magic like that where I'm from." She holds her hand out, stretched towards where the staff she had also acquired from the quartermaster lays, calling it to her hand easily.

"I can do other things, but that's the easiest to demonstrate."

[ from here ]

"Rations aren't that bad, better than starving," Rey feels weirdly defensive of the garbage food she survived on for years. She knows they're awful, eating had been about sustaining herself for another day rather than joy most of the time, though she'd tried. Found little ways to make the fare palatable. Though when she had real food it was always clear how far she fell short of that goal.

Picking up a cup of what she thinks is some kind of fruit juice she nods her head in agreement, curling her plate close to her chest so she's sure not to drop it.

"There is fine. I'm- I'm Rey, by the way."

"That's not a very high bar, pretty much everything is better than starving." Electrocution? Better than starving. Losing a limb? Painful and embarrassing, but still better. The gnawing feeling of not having enough to eat tends to linger at the back of the mind and is hard to distract from. Pretty much anything else is temporary.

He makes his way to the table and plops down in a seat. "Good to meet you, Rey. I'm Anakin."

Rey has just seated herself across the table when he introduces himself and she goes still. Hands still on her plate and cup where she'd set them her eyes widen a little as she looks at him. Maybe it's a coincidence. They're in a place entirely out of the ordinary for their galaxy, after all. But still she has to ask, and she tries to keep the nervousness out of her voice, only half succeeding.

"...Skywalker?"

Anakin can feel the tension between them, her nervousness palpable in the Force. Remaining as he is, he narrows his eyes in suspicion, his voice even.

"We're not going to have a problem, are we, Rey?" He doesn't want a fight, and he really doesn't want to drag Jedi nonsense here when he's been rather comfortable. "I don't see the reason to have a quarrel with you, and I'd appreciate not giving me one."

Rey is somehow surprised by the sudden shift, though she realizes she shouldn't be. Oddly the evenness of his voice despite his vague threat, makes her smile.

"You're a lot like your daughter." Leia was the master at that, delivering words that should inspire fear in a way that was almost scarier than growling them out. She doesn't know a lot about Anakin Skywalker, but she knows a lot about his children. That thought was strange, but she tried not to dwell on it for more than a moment.

"I'm not looking for a fight." Right now, anyway.

As quickly as their conversation may have shifted, she's the one that ends up surprising him in return. He doesn't know much at all about his daughter aside from the small bits he's gleaned from Kylo. He understands his grandson's relationship with his parents was rocky at best, so Anakin didn't really want to pry him for more information that might make him close himself off. His eyebrows go up at the statement and he tilts his head curiously.

"Is that right?" He takes a sip of his wine, debating on his words. What does he reveal that he knows given this situation? It's not as if he can change anything by finding out more. His words are considered carefully. "I'm aware of my role in the galaxy in a future I haven't experienced yet. Of some of the things I've yet to do. I'm not interested in apologizing for it."

Anakin's quiet for a moment, studying Rey. "Tell me about her?"

Rey's smile fades as he speaks and she shifts in her seat, looking away from Anakin and at her food. She wasn't expecting an apology, of course. It isn't something she needs, either. Not from him, anyway.

"There's Kylo," she exhales in an attempt to not sound disappointed, picking up a stuffed mushroom and popping it into her mouth so she doesn't say anything she might regret later. Of course he would take after his grandfather, that was what his family had always feared. Still, her eyes flick back to Anakin after a moment and she swallows.

"Leia is the strongest person I know. She fought for the rebellion, and then became a senator when peace was won. When the First Order destroyed the New Republic, she fought back again. I'm proud to call her master."

Anakin hums, nodding. "There's Kylo. If my path forward has to be a certain way for him to exist, I can't see making a different decision."

There's a pang of sadness as she tells him about his daughter. Someone he should know but doesn't get the opportunity to. Whether it's of his own doing or not, he can't help but feel envious of those that got to know his children like their parents couldn't.

"She takes after her mother, then."

Rey wants to argue. Her shoulders tense a little at the thought, but she pushes it down. Ben might have been better off if Anakin hadn't chosen the path he took, or it may have ended the same. She doesn't know.

Picking at her food, Rey shakes her head at his statement.

"Her adopted father was a senator. She never said much about her mother. But that way you saw me as a threat and addressed it. Leia does that. Nothing like you'd expect a senator to be."

He mirrors her and picks at his own food, though his interest is more in drilling her for information than anything else. Anakin's eyebrows go up in surprise at the information though his mouth pulls into a puzzled frown.

"Do you know who he was?" It's possible he'd at least met this man in passing as often as he was around Padmé in the senate building. Or perhaps not.

Eyebrows furrowed Rey tries to remember what his name was.

"His family name was Organa. I can't remember what his first name was... Ball? Bol? She usually didn't refer to him by his first name." She'd heard other Resistance fighters say his name, but she'd never been focused on it. The information wasn't relevant to the here and now, and Leia had always just referred to him as "her father."

Rey decides it might be prudent she doesn't share that information.

Oh. Well that is surprising, isn't it? He hadn't interacted much with Senator Organa, but he knows that Bail was one of Padmé's closest friends. It does make sense, he guesses. Doesn't really make the truth any more pleasant.

"I see."

Rey can sense that Anakin isn't overjoyed by this news, not that she can blame him. She pulls her lower lip between her teeth for a moment before deciding to maybe change the subject.

"What was it like, growing up in the Jedi temple?"

He shrugs. "It was complicated. I didn't come to the temple until I was nine- the Council wasn't going to allow my training at first because I was 'too old.' It was difficult fitting in with the padawans in my age group because of it."
.
There's a lot more to it, but Rey probably doesn't want to open that can of worms. He's also unsure of what he wants her to know.

"Too old?" She furrows her brow, her head canting to the side slightly as she parses that out.

"How old are you supposed to be when you start training?" Given that Rey was 19 when she discovered she had the ability to use the Force the Jedi certainly wouldn't have accepted her. Or either of her masters, on that account.

"Traditionally, Force-sensitives are taken to the Jedi Temple when they're very young. Young enough that they may not remember their parents. The Jedi didn't believe in attachments of any kind, they believed that attachments are selfish and made you weak or more prone to the Dark Side."

He believes his attachments made him stronger and gave him something to fight for that felt easier to accomplish than bringing balance to an entire galaxy. Anakin's expression twists into a bitter scowl.

"They refused to take me at first because I was nine and I missed my mother. I was told that because I was afraid, I would turn to the Dark Side."

Rey has poured over the pages of the Jedi text. Luke had spoken cynically of the Jedi when he had tried to teach her that the Jedi were doomed to failure, but what she had read in the pages of the Jedi texts had said nothing of taken children from their families.

"That's..." she exhales, suddenly her usually voracious appetite all but gone. She lost her parents. They didn't want her, so maybe she would have found belonging with the Jedi. But to tell a child they would fall to the dark side because of their love...

"The First Order raises their stormtroopers like that, they must have gotten the idea from them. It's... the Jedi's fault my friend Finn never knew his family." Somehow that hurts her heart more than anything else. She doubts that Finn would have been unloved and discarded like she was.

"I'm... I'm sorry, I think I need to go," she looks sick, pushing up from her spot and standing. "Thank you for talking to me." Even if this is something she'll need to possibly go throw up over now.

Anakin feels that sour note of grief in the Force but pushes onward. He has a great many opinions on them, and it feels good to tell someone who came after the fall of the Jedi.

"The Jedi are at fault for a lot more than that, I assure you." He nods, gaze following her. "If you wish to see through the lies you've no doubt been told, you know where to find me."

[Catch-all open] Draw me a map that I can hold

For Kylo from the TDM

reyyyyy

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For Hennessy from the TDM

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OPEN - Library

OPEN - Somewhere to train

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For Anakin from the TDM

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