The once disciple of the Jedi is one of the top performers at the club, the only force sensitive on the staff.
Draken left his Jedi training after his Master and himself encountered an individual that easily overpowered them both. He still bares the scars from the lightning the being seemed to wield as easily as a blaster. He never truly understood what happened that day, or what he and his Master had encountered- but it scared him bad enough to never want to fight for his life again.
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Bariss Offee had learned to read absence. In the temple corridors silence had contours and cadence; in the hush of a bivouac the gaps between breaths told you when a sentinel had crept close. She practiced listening as other people practiced swordplay: the muscles internalized it until interpretation came without thinking. That skill had always been more than craft; it was a small magic.
The crater wanted to be understood.
It sat at the city's edge like a removed eye, an indented geometry of stone and shadow. Locals inched their carts wide of it, and shipwrights crossed to the far side of the quay so that the crater’s unease could not lick at their ankles. Merchants told stories of a thing that gulped memories like fish, of a sound like the scraping of coins inside a chest. Bariss went because the Force shaped the notion into a question she could not ignore. She did not like unanswered questions.
The rim was warm when she touched it, as if heat pooled beneath like blood. When she crouched and peered down, the darkness inside did not so much absorb light as negotiate with it. Something in the bowl shifted as she leaned forward — a patient, hollow pulse that translated across skin into meaning. It felt like a slow throat clearing.
"You ask to be heard," she said aloud. Speech was a tool to map a strange place; saying a thing made it more legible. "Tell me what you are."
A pressure at the base of her skull answered, like a hand laid over a sleeping heart. "We remember," the crater said. The word was many voices at once — wind in a stairwell, the rustling of paper, a child's whisper. "We gather what slips. We taste.
"We are hungry."
The seduction arrived not as a lash but as curiosity. The crater did not roar; it offered. It drew images from her mind with such particularity that Bariss felt seen: the exact pitch of a laugh she had once given a friend in the rain, the name of a village whose sign had been erased in the maps, the melody of a lullaby hummed by a woman who was not her mother. Each revelation was presented with the intimacy of a suitor who knows the small shapes of your hands.
"Why?" she asked. Curiosity had a moral edge; it could be a weapon.
"Because forgetting is a hunger," it said. "The world discards. We keep what is dropped."
The crater's voice threaded temptingly around her, shaping images into warm offers. It promised maps to secret archives, the location of a ledger that recorded deliberate oblivion, the truth of which officials had decreed certain names to vanish. Knowledge hummed like nectar in the air. The Force whispered in counterpoint — caution and wanting braided together.
She could have left. Many would have. But Bariss had always felt that there were layers to compassion: one might be generous to others yet careless with oneself. She moved into the shadow and felt the ground pulse against her boots, a heartbeat that felt less alive than intent. The crater asked for a trade: remembrance for direction. It wanted what was easiest to take — small memories, private notes. Bariss could have denied it, but the ledger it promised might repair a community's loss.
"You will not be appeased by mere names," she said to the dark, bargaining in the tongue of her training. "Show me the ledger and I will tell of you in return."
"We prefer truth," the crater intoned, but its voice was interested by nuance. "We take what drops. We accept gifts."
Marek came down the slope at the chosen moment, as if summoned by the rust of occasion. He was a practical man with a face like a cautionary tale; his rope and lamp announced himself as a flavor of help that was half rescue, half salvage. "Bariss," he said, winded, "you look like you've been listening to saints and lost your mind."
"I listen to what speaks," she answered without smiling. "It says it will provide a ledger."
He peered into the blackness and did not joke further. "Ledgers are good. Ledgers have fingers you can hold."
They spoke to each other to keep the geometry of the place from swallowing them. The crater, patient and persuasive, filled the bowl with images that moved like fish in a lantern-glass. It offered the exact coordinates of a sunken chest beneath the old bell tower; a key in a quay-stone; the handwriting of the committee that had decided what and who to erase. The seduction worked by being useful. Marek's mouth went dry at the tho
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As long as we’re all posting our Ahsoka paintings, here’s mine (but like my spin on this undying genre of tumblr post is that there are fewer pixels its a feature not a bug)
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Summary: Reader and Cal are bonded by the force. Too bad the coucil can't see past her empathic abilities.
Request: No :( but requests are open! especially for this boi.
Warnings: kinda angsty and sad but also fluffy, mean Jedi council.
Author notes: Third person POV and no use of Y/N. Kinda a force mate thing because I love the concept of that. Does anyone else think that they need to embrace some emotions and be people? Idk I feel like peace keepers need to be able to empathize.
Word count: 1,416
Cal Kestis was one of the most caring Jedi she'd ever met. Growing up in the temple, she had been taught that all Jedi were supposed to be kind and gentle. Yet for her, that wasn't the case.
Blessed by the force with gifts the Jedi had not seen in years. Ones they believed could only lead down a dark path.
Emotions are a sensitive topic amongst the Jedi.
First they tried to force it down insides of her. Then attempted purging it from her memory. When they realized it was only growing stronger, the held her in a cell. Punished for something she can't control.
Having trained another who is strong in the force, Master Obi-wan Kenobi did his best to help her understand her powers. To guide her into becoming a strong Jedi knight. He was the first kind Jedi She'd ever met.
After finally showing enough improvment the coucil let her roam the temple. That's when she met him. More like he ran into her.
Somthing happened upon contact. A warmth like no other settled on her mind as she basked in his boyish glee over whatever he was running too or from.
"I'm so sorry!" he had all but shouted. An awkward tint forming on his cheeks.
Not having much contact with peers her age left her clueless as to what comes next. So she settled for smiling and nodding.
A spark formed that day. One neither of them could put out no matter how much they tried. They always found themselves seeking eachother out. Even learning to communicate through the force.
It didn't matter how good at hiding she had become. Years of practice evading her elders and yet he knew where she was.
"I will always find you." That was the first time she'd heard those words. Though at the the time she believed them to be arrogance over winning another game of hide and seek.
She would always know what he was feeling regardless of the distance. He always knew what she was thinking.
There were no secrets between them, no hidden skeletons. Yet he loved her regardless.
He wanted to fight for her. Get the coucil to see her side of things. Begged and pleaded with his master to get them to see her as he does.
Eventually his persistence payed off and he was granted an audience.
The two stood in front of the coucil and pleaded her case. Even with Master Kenobi on their side, it was no use. The Master Jedis in the room could feel the bond between the two padawaans standing before them.
The force flowing between the two, connecting them with invisible strings of fate.
The two of of them could become hazards to themselves and eachother. So they did the only logical thing and forced the two apart. Claiming that she was a danger to Cal and he should not be anywhere near her.
They screamed for eachother. Souls longing for the connection the two shared. A bond that couldn't be broken no matter how hard the coucil tried.
Neither of them understood at the time. Their Masters doing their best to comfort the young children. Both of them feeling a hint of resentment for the coucils decision.
Then she was alone again. Her Master and her best friend ripped away from her by war.
Confined to her room, nothing to do but listen to lectures about why her powers are a danger. How she needs to resist the dark side.
Everytime they felt her connecting to Cal through the force, they berated you. Words of hurt leaving their lips. Words claiming she would cause Cal to fall and having attachments is not the way of the Jedi. How she could never be a Jedi if she continues like this. It stung but she believed them.
She tried to break to bond between them. Spent hours meditating; researching a cure to the invisible line.
All she could find was how they would be better by eachothers side. The force wanted them together for a reason and regardless of what anyone said, she trusted the force to guide her back to him.
She knew they were trying to protect her and Cal. Their fear of the unknown hurting her more then helping.
She felt their uneasiness everytime they came close to her. Dread when she practiced her force abilities.
She knew when they were lying. She even perceived what Master Skywalker's intentions were. The look fear and anger radiating through the force around him made her want to vomit.
She tried to tell them. Tried to get then to run. But her pleas fell on deaf ears.
Irrational. Incompetent. Crazy. Falling for the seduction of the Darkside.
All things said to her that day.
And then it happened.
His rampage on the temple. The genocide of the Jedi.
She'd spoke to Cal earlier. Confessed her fears to him. The words he'd spoken the only comfort she had.
"I will always find you."
She hadn't had time to tell him what was happening. All thoughts now focused on the menacing figure in front of her.
She reached her had out to him. A feeble attempt to sooth his aching soul. It worked just enough to bye her some time to escape. Running to any available transport of the planet.
The encounter had left her exhausted. His strong emotions taking their toll on her mentality.
She felt terrible stealing from the dead, but a lightsaber would be helpful haven the circumstances. So she grabbed the blade off one of the fallen. Running away with the Saber clutched in her grip.
The grief hanging in the air overwhelming enough to make her stumble.
Soon she found transport off world. Stealing to get the credits she needed for the passage.
Cal reached out to her through their bond once more. Saying he was okay but his master has died. Updating her on where he was and what had happened with the clones.
They decided they needed to suppress their bond as much as possible. And force user, whether light or dark, would sense their connection within a ten foot radius. And right now they needed to stay hidden. Try to survive the nightmare.
Occasionally one would reach out to the other. Soothing eachothers aching souls. Reminding eachother they were still alive.
"I will always find you." The words echoed in her mind like a lullaby. Chasing her into restless sleep.
She had found a home on a the swampy planet of Bogano. The force led her here. The reason currently unknow to her but the force hadn't led her astray yet.
Though somtimes the venomous words of the Jedi coucil screamed at her.
"You will bring chaos."
Had this all been her fault? Had she unknowingly changed Master Skywalkers emotions that day? Played with things she could not understand fully?
Tears stream down her face as she recalls the horrible images of what transpired that night. The lifeless bodies littering the ground. The smell of death lingering in every corridor.
She did her best to conceal those feelings. Spending her days training with her new sword. Repeating the stances of those she'd seen others do while sparing.
And then one day five years later a ship arrived.
The invisible strings attaching her to Cal pulled her in the direction of the craft. His force signature growing nearer with each heavy step she took. Her breath faltering as she sprinted through the muddy terrain.
The force wavered and flowed and her emotions ran high. Raging like and untamed ocean. Powerful and overwhelming.
She slowed as she approached the craft. The door opening to reveal him.
He had grown taller. His hair an unruly red mop. But his green eyes and freckles are exactly the same as she remebered.
Tears sprang from her eyes. His relief flooding over her. Her joy spreading through him.
They ran to eachother. Letting the force pull them together until the were finally embracing each other. Cal's hands press against the back of he head and her lower back, pulling her closer to him.
They bask in the feeling of togetherness. The force flowing around them in a symphony of completion. They were once again joined as they should have been all along.
Cal leans back to look at her. Hands now cupping either side of her face. His eyes study her before leaning down to press her forehead against hers.
Meet Reg, Error and Lucy’s grandsons ! Dok, Baz, Kari-el and Fiasco ! All 4 adopted by Junior, giving a new chapter of brotherhood and…disastrous shenanigans
There's no FORMAL training of course, but other force sensitives will teach and practice with each other in the little bit of free time they have. Their style is very different from the Jedi.
The Jedi tend to focus more on how the force FEELS rather than what it's doing. They try to sense what's coming in the future, if someone is good or bad, if they're in danger, etc.
The Amavikkans (I don’t think that's how it's pluralized, but you know what I mean) are more practical. They don't need to know the future; either they'll be free or they won't be. They don't need the force to know Depur is bad. They don't need it to sense that they're in danger either, because they're always in danger.
Instead, they teach tricks that are useful to them and their community. Illusions are common for young force users. They're very useful for hiding from an angry depur.
They use the force to sustain themselves physically as well. Force users can stay awake longer, work faster, and go longer without food (not that anyone tells Depur that).
Their greatest skill, however, is being able to connect to the planet. The force user in question will meditate and reach for the soul of the planet (which they believe is also the soul of Ar-Amu).
This connection allows them to sense anything they could possibly want to know about the planet. They can sense changes in weather, the location of water, and people.
These skills make them EXCELLENT at getting other Amavikkans onto the Tatooine Freedom Trail. They know when sandstorms are coming so escapees can time their flight so the sandstorm doesn't hit them, but confuses their pursuers.
The most powerful force users can even control the weather to a degree. They can change the course of sandstorms and even cause them. No one has been able to stop one however. Nothing can stop the desert when he rages.
(I also really think this would influence Amavikkan religion. Force users might be priests of some kind, similar to a grandparent? Or a bridge between the natural, divine, and sentient worlds?)
