sᴏʟᴅɪᴇʀ BLUE (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
firstroar) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
ximilialog2022-05-24 04:32 pm
firstroar) wrote in ximilialog2022-05-24 04:32 pm
exhale [open]
CHARACTERS: Blue, any
LOCATION: infirmary, mess hall, sun room, Blue's dormitory
DATE: post-mission
CONTENT: downtime (+dream/memshare option)
WARNINGS: mention of terminal illness, medical treatments/needles
Disorienting moments blurred together in the chaos in and outside of himself, with the context left only to his physical senses and the alarming news coming in from the earpiece. Blue can only hold on and endure as the train is rocked, as the car he's trapped in slows to a crawl, as the noise keeps coming in over the signal...
Until he doesn't. Until his eyes have to wince to readjust to the reflective surfaces and glaring light of Ximilia, until he must shudder and brace against the feeling of his psionics flooding back to him, bringing forth the anguish, fury, confusion, and betrayal flooding the place as much as the bodies. It leaves Blue in something of a shock - one that's well and fine to be ignored, since hard focus on him would likely just rattle him more, and anyway, his own attention keeps getting forcibly redirected toward a fairly unified notion.
Newt.
Newt, monsters...the roiling, gnashing form that bit back when he reached out - is that? What happened? He doesn't know. He just sees Newton getting carried away while he and the rest are left to linger undirected.
The exhaustion creeps back in steadily, bringing with it the old awareness of a failing body that must work harder for less of what's necessary. He puts up no audible fuss about having to be ferried to the infirmary, about getting pinched yet again with needles for fluids that compensate for what he can't intake himself, but his insides are raging. Bodily, he aches. Mentally, he is caging lions: Frustration bubbles over in the face of how unfair it is that he had been given time and means to stand on his own two feet and move about as a hale body, only to have no means or power to do much more than rummage a few suitcases. This isn't how Soldier Blue could help. Why did he have to have his psionics taken away.
It's infuriating to ruminate on, and that fury, while muted externally, still informs the way his brow knits, the way he goes still and quiet, bracing against shuddering, aching waves of discomfort. Now and then, it makes simple objects near him rattle or lift off surfaces just barely when his psionics are up and lacking any other means to vent.
It's worse when those psionics are off, when he feels himself alone in his own mind - that's when he tries to gravitate toward populated spaces: The infirmary, the mess, the sun room...somewhere with familiar-seeming people in that unfamiliar-seeming state of mind. The frustration remains, but at this point, that's familiar, too.
In those spaces, at least, his focus can be pulled outside of himself and toward others, regardless of if their feelings of frustration resonate with his or not. Sometimes he wants to commiserate...and sometimes he wants to simply try and take care of the burdens of others, to feel as though he can leave some good behind despite the decay he's saddled with.
That orb never did respond. Nothing changed. Not for the better, anyway. What else...is he supposed to do? It can't be to just die quietly; he won't allow that.
Just as before, more and more time will be spent bedridden than he'd like. In sleep, should there still be hours left with his psionics active, his mind can be pulled out and toward others at rest, too, and he may find himself walking their dreams just as much as his own. The bleed over doesn't even have to be terribly seamless, since to a sleeping mind, anything and nothing can make sense anyway.
He's just...there, now. There, somewhere with someone, be it happy or sad.
LOCATION: infirmary, mess hall, sun room, Blue's dormitory
DATE: post-mission
CONTENT: downtime (+dream/memshare option)
WARNINGS: mention of terminal illness, medical treatments/needles
Disorienting moments blurred together in the chaos in and outside of himself, with the context left only to his physical senses and the alarming news coming in from the earpiece. Blue can only hold on and endure as the train is rocked, as the car he's trapped in slows to a crawl, as the noise keeps coming in over the signal...
Until he doesn't. Until his eyes have to wince to readjust to the reflective surfaces and glaring light of Ximilia, until he must shudder and brace against the feeling of his psionics flooding back to him, bringing forth the anguish, fury, confusion, and betrayal flooding the place as much as the bodies. It leaves Blue in something of a shock - one that's well and fine to be ignored, since hard focus on him would likely just rattle him more, and anyway, his own attention keeps getting forcibly redirected toward a fairly unified notion.
Newt.
Newt, monsters...the roiling, gnashing form that bit back when he reached out - is that? What happened? He doesn't know. He just sees Newton getting carried away while he and the rest are left to linger undirected.
The exhaustion creeps back in steadily, bringing with it the old awareness of a failing body that must work harder for less of what's necessary. He puts up no audible fuss about having to be ferried to the infirmary, about getting pinched yet again with needles for fluids that compensate for what he can't intake himself, but his insides are raging. Bodily, he aches. Mentally, he is caging lions: Frustration bubbles over in the face of how unfair it is that he had been given time and means to stand on his own two feet and move about as a hale body, only to have no means or power to do much more than rummage a few suitcases. This isn't how Soldier Blue could help. Why did he have to have his psionics taken away.
It's infuriating to ruminate on, and that fury, while muted externally, still informs the way his brow knits, the way he goes still and quiet, bracing against shuddering, aching waves of discomfort. Now and then, it makes simple objects near him rattle or lift off surfaces just barely when his psionics are up and lacking any other means to vent.
It's worse when those psionics are off, when he feels himself alone in his own mind - that's when he tries to gravitate toward populated spaces: The infirmary, the mess, the sun room...somewhere with familiar-seeming people in that unfamiliar-seeming state of mind. The frustration remains, but at this point, that's familiar, too.
In those spaces, at least, his focus can be pulled outside of himself and toward others, regardless of if their feelings of frustration resonate with his or not. Sometimes he wants to commiserate...and sometimes he wants to simply try and take care of the burdens of others, to feel as though he can leave some good behind despite the decay he's saddled with.
That orb never did respond. Nothing changed. Not for the better, anyway. What else...is he supposed to do? It can't be to just die quietly; he won't allow that.
Just as before, more and more time will be spent bedridden than he'd like. In sleep, should there still be hours left with his psionics active, his mind can be pulled out and toward others at rest, too, and he may find himself walking their dreams just as much as his own. The bleed over doesn't even have to be terribly seamless, since to a sleeping mind, anything and nothing can make sense anyway.
He's just...there, now. There, somewhere with someone, be it happy or sad.
no subject
At that, Blue's brow creases.
"Is time...is age...an illness?" he wonders. "In the perspective of what you speak."
no subject
"I think it'll even out," she decides, shrugging one shoulder. "I might be able to regenerate whatever it is that's faded in you, but we won't know unless we try. It's just trading my vitality to give you some and I know better than to kill myself over it."
Another joke, but this one is perhaps less funny. Her sense of humor has always been on the morbid side and it doesn't cross her mind to wonder if that might be a little off color.
no subject
"For someone...you have only just met...you would forfeit pieces of your own life...?" That is generous...and short-sighted on her part. Weren't you going to use those pieces, young lady?
no subject
"You're Finn's friend and I can help you," she says simply. "He'd probably be sad if I didn't at least try."
Don't make a young Finnamon roll cry Blue don't do it.
no subject
In any case...the offer doesn't seem too dissimilar to that of Itachi and the exchange of chakra; Blue wonders if it'll have the same, exhausting after-effect on himself. He's so tired...of being so tired.
"And everyone would be...disappointed if I didn't at least try. Just...don't push yourself too close to any brink." His expression hardens a bit. "One other helped me...in a very strong way...and now her powers are crippled for it. Our lives...our gifts...they're distorted by the presence of those orbs. Your will alone may not be at play..."
no subject
Her powers, though, are as much a part of her as her breath or her blood. It's less a gift than just her, and she isn't worried.
"I promise I won't do anything more than what's safe for either of us," she says firmly, so steady and sure.
"Where do you feel the most pain?" She asks him now, thinking it might be best if she had a focal point to keep in her mind as she worked.
no subject
The most pain, huh...
Blue's gaze flickers downward as he thinks about it.
"Here," he says at length, resting a hand over his chest.
no subject
"Just relax and close your eyes," she says, though it's entirely guesswork if that's actually helpful. It just seems like it would be more comfortable if he was laying back properly on the pillows, allowing his body to be as at rest as possible.
Reaching out, she puts a careful hand in the center of his chest and bows her head once her fingers come to a rest over his heart, looking down as though to give him a little privacy. She doesn't need to look to find the Force, simply wills it rise to her command and focuses it into him. She imagines his heart and the veins that wind away from it, the Force a comforting blue glow that burns so gently in his chest and winds down the pathways of his arteries to carry that power to every inch of him, restoring and recovering the life he had lost simply by... by existing?
There's something terribly sad about that that makes her eyes burn and without realizing it, her free hand reaches for Blue's hand where it rests on the blanket, warm fingers curling comforting around his as she transfers her life into him bit by careful bit.
no subject
Mu are frail by nature. It's perhaps the tradeoff for such remarkable powers in their universe. Yet despite that...Blue's lived over three hundred years now. With no others before him as reference, no one could know just how long Mu could live...but there's a sense of endings here.
Despite that, the next breath he draws in is steadier and longer than the ones which preceded it; he can bear the weight of her sorrowful awareness without faltering. Feeling her take his hand prompts his eyes to blink open and watch her. After a few seconds, he squeezes her fingers back.
"That's enough," he murmurs. "Even this much...is a great deal."
no subject
"Is it?" She asks him, a little pointed but not unkind. "Because you're still talking like that." Like it's too difficult to get the full sentence out, like he just can't quite summon enough energy for something that should be so easy. A handful of seconds doesn't feel like nearly enough. "I can keep going if you can."
no subject
"You'd burn away...hundreds of years of time if I didn't stop you. I think." And while that would be remarkable in a vacuum, Blue still has a healthy wariness of consequence; if the orbs wouldn't heed his wish, why would there be any circumstance where much more could change his fate so suddenly without great cost?
no subject
"I can't deny that," she admits as she draws her hand away.
And it's only then that she realizes she'd reached for his hand. Huh. She lets go and leans back into her own space easily, less a pulling away than reclaiming her own body from the way it had seemed so keen to offering up any support it could without her permission. She still wants to pour more of her life force into him so badly that it's like an itch she can't scratch, but maybe it would be better to do it in stages. Maybe it's true that too much all at once could overwhelm him.
... Wait.
"Did you say hundreds?"
no subject
"Yes." Her prompt pulls him out of that train of thought, keeps him present. "Despite our weaknesses...Mu can live much longer than humans. I've seen more than three hundred years, myself."
rey agrees that humans are overrated droids and wookiees are where it's at
"That explains it," she says. "You feel different in the Force, but not in the way other species from my universe do."
There isn't really a word for it that she's aware of, it's just that he feels distinct to her, just Blue, and that's good enough for her for now. It isn't every day that her usual thirst for answers and knowledge is so easy to put aside but it isn't so much of a struggle, for now at least, not when he clearly needs rest still.
"I should go, but I do have one more question," she tells him, and then... immediately hesitates. What she's got on her mind is something difficult for her to consider, something that still carries more negative connotations than positive ones, but isn't that a good reason to try to overwrite those bad memories with better ones?
"When you first came in, I heard you say Finn's name," she starts off, slow and careful as she tries to sort through the feelings warring in her heart. "If you can speak mind to mind - if it's easier for you to do that, we... can. Could. It's something I can do."
space furry rights
It's something I can do, she says...but it doesn't sound like something she's entirely comfortable with. Yet she mustered the will to offer...
"I can," he affirms, pausing a beat to consider. "And...should you ever wish to, we can speak in that way. But I don't mind it...talking like this." His mouth tugs into a small, lopsided smile.
"I do communicate faster that way." If the short, stilted sentences really trouble her.
no subject
Everyone who has the power to make his suffering less should do that and her hang-ups, her fears are things that she's going to need to put aside at some point to heal from. Not everyone is like Kylo Ren, out to take what he wants no matter the pain involved. It doesn't have to hurt. It could be... nice.
Then we will, she tells him, mind to mind.
no subject
For now, though...I can be quiet. You were looking to sleep, weren't you?
no subject
I can sleep somewhere else, you need the bed more than I do.
no subject
Blue's not about to offer to share the space when they've met but moments ago, even though he'd hardly refuse were she to ask herself.
...It'd be a bit strange to explain to Yzak, were he to invite himself in and find such a sight, too.
"Thank you. Rey." For your time. Your help.