[
oom: sometimes you're still a kid playing at being a jedi ... and sometimes, you're not. Rated C for Kriffin' Corellians, N for Not'droids, and A for ANGST.]
There's a noise, at the ceiling. Probably a familiar noise, to a lot of people; a very unique buzz, wavering as the blade causing it cuts through something.
Then there's a hole in the ceiling, just for a moment, just long enough for a teenage boy to clamber through to sit on the rafters -- and be rather shocked to find himself here, at the end of the universe, and not in a room on a space station by Corellia.
But the shock fades into relief, through his tears, and he shuts off his lightsaber, hooks it back onto his belt -- and stays there. He sits on one of the rafters, back against a support with one knee drawn up to his chest, as curled up into his bundle of cloak, tunic and bag as he can be.
He can't quite do that trick of shutting himself off in the Force anymore, not in this state; he's broadcasting quite loudly.
He doesn't care.
[open for tags all day plz; if i'm afk, i will pick it up. thank you. ♥ (eta [12.30pm]: going into city! will return on wireless in an hour, hopefully.)]