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INDUPAR
Indupar East Stronghold
14:30_ East Wing. Rear Courtyard Garden.
[closed-ask]
Indupar East Stronghold
14:30_ East Wing. Rear Courtyard Garden.
[closed-ask]
A peaceful green garden. Lacking in color and diversity. Welcoming with a sense of security beside a massive cream colored castle wall. Coolly basking in soft sunlight, its trees providing plenty of shade. One particular tree affectionately doted upon one white stone bench at its base. There, one Cappi Tremaine sat upon the grass beneath it, his legs fed through the underside of the bench and torso draped depressingly over the seat; his arms hanging over, hands down beside his knees. His chin rested upon the bench, head slightly off kilter; relaxed and kind of miserable. Still in his casual clothes, the ones from yesterday, his eyes sadly stared at the little plant under his right hand growing just beside his right leg. His fingers swirled slowly, aloft. His mind ... adrift.
What am I doing here? What am I here for? Is it really gonna be ten years soon? The Jedi. Lightsaber forms. History. Philosophy. Politics. Ugh. Fighting for freedom. For the little guy. Against the big guy. Er, guys. And gals. I wish Zia was here. She'd say something perfect. She's so ... perfect. Not that I'd be able to say anything back. Stupid. This sucks. What do I wanna be a Jedi for? S'not like I'm in any danger. Or Zia. Or Pops. Or stupid face. What'do I care who rules the galaxy? What can I do about it? What's the point? I don't know. Nothing. Ugh. What should I have for lunch? I don't know. Ughhh.
"Ughhh..."
Thinking in solitude, Cappi enthralled the little plant in the meanwhile. Applying the Force. Feeding its cells with the only positive energy he had, his love for plants. Almost immeasurably, the plant's cells began to participate with him. The Force formed around them, unifying a bond that accelerated its response. Its stem slowly warmed to his compassion. He willed its incentive to love. Pooled its life-force that it might reach him, touch him as he could not touch others, find a way with one purpose as he failed to now. He forced it to grow. The little plant was under his spell and, eventually, began to reach. It thickened ever so slightly, and moderately lifted towards his toiling hand. It budded tiny little stems that would one day unfold into leaves. It produced a head that moments ago was not there, that one day might bloom into a beautiful flower. It reached by his command, surging in size at least a few centimeters higher. But it shown a wealth of life as it matured breadth and glow. He could achieve such control, these mystical powers Jedi boast. And yet he sighed, in melancholy.