Atton Rand & miscellaneous names (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
suitably_heroic) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
fandomtownies2025-07-31 10:42 am
suitably_heroic) wrote in fandomtownies2025-07-31 10:42 am
Entry tags:
The Park, Thursday Afternoon
The last couple of weeks had been kind of a blur of touring, music, life beyond the island - apparently just Summer-not-being-here had been enough to sever much of Jack's mental and emotional connection to the island and everything it represented. He supposed that somewhere, that was a good thing; that he should probably stop giving in to the urge to come back here at all, to this near-masochistic urge to poke at the shadows of his old life.
Still. One of the things he'd learned in his time as a (active? He still hadn't figured out how he thought of himself in that capacity, yet) Jedi was the importance of feeling present. In your body, in the moment, in the galaxy. And he didn't want to give up his presence on the island yet.
So. Lightsaber practice in the park. Seemed like a good way to put himself back in his body and back in the environment. He picked a quiet spot with good visibility - didn't want to chop anyone's head off by accident - and lit his blades with a snap-hiss. "Let's start with some Soresu," he muttered to himself, slid into a stance, and started moving.
The strain on his muscles, the sound of the birds in the trees, the wear of the humidity on his skin - it wasn't all comfortable, no. But it was grounding.
[[ open ]]
Still. One of the things he'd learned in his time as a (active? He still hadn't figured out how he thought of himself in that capacity, yet) Jedi was the importance of feeling present. In your body, in the moment, in the galaxy. And he didn't want to give up his presence on the island yet.
So. Lightsaber practice in the park. Seemed like a good way to put himself back in his body and back in the environment. He picked a quiet spot with good visibility - didn't want to chop anyone's head off by accident - and lit his blades with a snap-hiss. "Let's start with some Soresu," he muttered to himself, slid into a stance, and started moving.
The strain on his muscles, the sound of the birds in the trees, the wear of the humidity on his skin - it wasn't all comfortable, no. But it was grounding.
[[ open ]]