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neverlosemyfocusWHO: Siri Tachi and Obi-Wan Kenobi
WHAT: The whammy has been broken, and they’re no longer dying. Reaffirming that in one of the best/most enjoyable ways possible.
WHERE: Their room
WHEN: Late day 70, early day 71.
WARNINGS: Jedi sexytimes.
Siri was slumped in the chair in the corner of their room. Not so much because she wanted to be, but because that was the closest to her when her legs gave out for the last time. It was... bad. The memories of when she’d died were razor sharp in her mind; brought into sharp relief by how... familiar the pain was. It had been the last thing she felt, before everything had started to go... cold.
But it wasn’t the worst. The worst was watching Obi-Wan slowly and painfully succumb to the death he’d wrought on the Sith that had murdered Qui-Gon. THAT was far worse than anything she was going through. Even slumped in the chair and dozing fitfully as she was, she instinctively poured what little strength she had into him.
When the whammy was finally broken the result was immediate, startling her out of the pained, fitful doze she’d been drifting in. She was no longer dying. And more importantly, so much more importantly, Obi-Wan was no longer dying. No longer being cut in half. Her relief was so intense it was difficult to breathe, and she was scrambling from her chair (appreciating that she could move easily, without pain), practically lunging for the bed.
“Obi-Wan.”
WHAT: The whammy has been broken, and they’re no longer dying. Reaffirming that in one of the best/most enjoyable ways possible.
WHERE: Their room
WHEN: Late day 70, early day 71.
WARNINGS: Jedi sexytimes.
Siri was slumped in the chair in the corner of their room. Not so much because she wanted to be, but because that was the closest to her when her legs gave out for the last time. It was... bad. The memories of when she’d died were razor sharp in her mind; brought into sharp relief by how... familiar the pain was. It had been the last thing she felt, before everything had started to go... cold.
But it wasn’t the worst. The worst was watching Obi-Wan slowly and painfully succumb to the death he’d wrought on the Sith that had murdered Qui-Gon. THAT was far worse than anything she was going through. Even slumped in the chair and dozing fitfully as she was, she instinctively poured what little strength she had into him.
When the whammy was finally broken the result was immediate, startling her out of the pained, fitful doze she’d been drifting in. She was no longer dying. And more importantly, so much more importantly, Obi-Wan was no longer dying. No longer being cut in half. Her relief was so intense it was difficult to breathe, and she was scrambling from her chair (appreciating that she could move easily, without pain), practically lunging for the bed.
“Obi-Wan.”