The Roof of the MCA, Friday Morning
He needed to leave.
That was the compulsion that had been thrumming through him ever since he answered to a name, back when words like 'Kanan' and 'Caleb' had still meant something to him. And that compulsion had remained, even while all of his other memories had faded. He had fought it. He'd fought it hard, let himself be guided by the Force and it had helped him to hold on to who he was for as long as he could.
But not even Kanan's connection with the Force had been able to save him, and as Kanan slipped away, something else formed in his stead. Blind, though he could see. Quiet, though he was desperate. Peace, yet...
He walked in almost drifting, wraith-like movements around the place where his ship stood, the Expedient having been replaced with the Escape long ago, and the Escape having seen better days. A once black lustre had been beaten away to the silver-grey that lurked under the paint, and one wing had been removed entirely, lightsaber scars still visible where it sat severed, on the apartment roof.
He had to get away, but no ship could take him from this place.
[OOC: ... Had to get this guy out. Was procrastinating because icons. SCREW IT. Open for SP during my work day (I miss being able to say that).]
That was the compulsion that had been thrumming through him ever since he answered to a name, back when words like 'Kanan' and 'Caleb' had still meant something to him. And that compulsion had remained, even while all of his other memories had faded. He had fought it. He'd fought it hard, let himself be guided by the Force and it had helped him to hold on to who he was for as long as he could.
But not even Kanan's connection with the Force had been able to save him, and as Kanan slipped away, something else formed in his stead. Blind, though he could see. Quiet, though he was desperate. Peace, yet...
He walked in almost drifting, wraith-like movements around the place where his ship stood, the Expedient having been replaced with the Escape long ago, and the Escape having seen better days. A once black lustre had been beaten away to the silver-grey that lurked under the paint, and one wing had been removed entirely, lightsaber scars still visible where it sat severed, on the apartment roof.
He had to get away, but no ship could take him from this place.
[OOC: ... Had to get this guy out. Was procrastinating because icons. SCREW IT. Open for SP during my work day (I miss being able to say that).]