Mindig tudtam, hogy fel fogok n�ni

csak arra nem gondoltam

hogy az fog k�s�rteni �jszak�kon �t

hogy mi�rt nem haszn�ltam ki azt a 2-3 �jszak�t

hogy mi�rt nem akkor �s ott habzsoltam

mikor

volt m�g fagylalt �s s�tem�ny

�s hogy egy csom� mindenr�l lecs�sztunk,

�s hogy a fagyott f�ld most t�l kem�ny

�s hogy ez itt nem vagyok �n

x.x

(I just didn't think it would be this bleak.)

x.x

Ilyen lehet(ek), mikor mind a sz�neket

kimost�k m�r a ruh�b�l

x.x

A tov�bbiakban pedig... ���. nem tudom, hogy az mi. :D 

>> M�G T�BB ITT <<

Warning: bits and pieces of strong language, especially in the second one.

Prompt 30: Crossing the Line

'Exercise'

“The key is just systematic breathing, really,” said Jyn, and folded her hands in her lap. She wished she could hide the trembling of her voice – this moment was honestly just too important, and she was very close to letting it slip in the most unceremonious manner possible.

“The key is just being fit to do this, which I am not.”

Ben was looking up at her, still half-sitting half-lying in the shade, his back against the temple’s wall. The filtered light of Yavin painted light green stripes on his robes. (Still a padawan’s robes. Many wondered how was that even possible with such raw talent, such power, such inclination to the Force’s curious ways… such wordless understanding).

“Brother…,” Jyn closed her eyes, and swallowed, the secret of her power sliding tamely down her throat. She had tried to tell him so many times. That, or to imply it. To suggest it… but Ben Solo’s mind was a sealed temple, a bottomless well, so closely folded into itself, so watchfully guarded that his defences veiled his own perceptions; and while he could see through most people, his own sister remained an enigma to him.

If he only knew all the secrets she guarded…

(If he only knew that Mother and Master Luke were twins – seriously, how could she not see it sooner? – or that Anakin Skywalker was - )

“Meditation is just not for me, Jyn. It won’t help. I need action.”

“Action can be dangerous. It makes you reckless.”

“Yeah, yeah. Heavens above, just don’t let anything happen to me…! Anything interesting! What a horror!” Ben laughed, and Jyn could not remember the last time his face seemed so jovial. “Really, sis, I’m all right. My head is just full sometimes.”

Full of crap, Jyn thought. Of course, Ben could not hear that, either. He was too preoccupied with himself; it was not hard to discern the subtle movements underneath the thick shell he had locked himself into. Oh, and there were movements; it was even fascinating to watch them from afar.

“What your mind lacks is fresh air,” Jyn suddenly said. “You’re too guarded. Your thoughts and ideas deform on their own, being made into something that never existed. Imagine locking yourself into a room with a holoscreen, and watching the same images over and over for years. Never going out, never talking to anyone, never doing anything. You’ll just go crazy, you’ll start to see things in those pictures that aren’t there. You will start imagining things, project your life onto them.”

“I have no idea what you mean.”

Oh, you wouldn’t sound suddenly so defensive if you didn’t.

“I’m just saying you’re a pure egoist,” said Jyn with a grin. This was not the moment for grand orations, she could just let this slip. (She supposed).

Prompt 53: Hatred

/ takes place roughly at the same time as 'The Force Awakens' /

'Carried Away'

She was facing a First Order pilot: that much was sure; but the tall, grumpy-looking man wasn’t about to make this easy for her. Her crew could seem most persuasive when need arose, but no questioning, no threatening and not even beating could get the tiniest piece of information out of this particular individual, which has led Jyn to the most uncomfortable situation of having to quit the cockpit and question the fool herself.

Oh, how proud would you be, Grandfather!

She let a sardonic sigh slip as she slid into the chair that faced the captive’s. Years ago, she would have used these few precious, silent seconds to persuade herself that she was fighting for a greater good – the survival of her crew – and that she would not cross the lines of absolute necessity. Such vacant formalities were no longer needed: she knew that she was planting fear, irrational fear, into a human being’s heart. Said human being was possibly helpless – lie – serving the Order only to protect his family – excuse – buying Snoke’s and Kylo Ren’s propaganda – pathetic – or something else… there could be so many unexplored circumstances, so many possible implications to this man’s actions…

Not that she could bring herself to care about any of them.

“I understand that you haven’t told my men anything,” She said with grudging acknowledgement. “They’re starting to wonder if you’re mute.”

“Let them,” said the pilot with a wry smile. “I have nothing to say to you or your lot.”

“Apart from blowing the whistle on us as soon as you leave my ship.”

“I am a soldier in an army. I am on a mission, and I have duties to attend. What would you expect?”

“Nothing else than sharp and swift betrayal,” Jyn decided she would smile back, as emptily and mockingly as the man did. “This is all very simple then, isn’t it? The only way I can assure the safety of my crew is to kill you.”

“Quite probably.”

“You seem to accept that more than willingly. Is life so full of shit when one works for a dictator?”

“As I have said, pirate,” the man answered, his voice just as flat as before, “I am a soldier on a mission.”

“And I am a smuggler,” said Jyn.

(She didn’t know why would she say such a thing. She was, in fact, a pirate).

“I see no difference.”

“Then I shall teach you. A pirate would start playing with you now, devising the cruellest way possible to kill you. Pirates are into that stuff. I, however, am a smuggler, so I shall keep this swift and quiet. Really, I just see your execution as a trade agreement that went horribly wrong. You have no idea how many of your fellow soldiers on a mission are helping me, because they hate your shitlord and the Knights of the Pussies. It’s a shame, really… you seem a reasonable fellow. Anyway, you have heard me – a pirate would torture you. I’ll just knock you out in space to freeze. You might reach Mon Calamari in a few months – not that you’ll be in a state to appreciate the view.”

“That is all? I thought you would tear my tongue out so I couldn’t tell anyone about you… and cut my hands off, too, so I couldn’t write…”

Was this man playing with her, just there and then?

“There are several cleverer ways to get information out of someone’s brain, and only a couple of those involve the Force,” Jyn shrugged. “Also, why bother? Listen, I’ll even let you choose direction… not that they matter very much this far down the Galaxy’s ass.”

Her threats fell flat on the lathy pilot; but suddenly, for the first time since she’d addressed him, she could see open interest in his eyes.

“Why do you hate the First Order so much? They gave us something we’ve been lacking since the Empire… stability. Security. No more little systems waging war against each other. No more struggles in the Senate. No more daily threats of civil war… And the Knights of Ren are the guardians of that stability.”

“Luke Skywalker was your guardian,” Jyn hissed, feeling quite ready to hit this man, to tear him into trembling pieces; but the name, her master’s name had a weight to it – a weight that held her hands. “He and his Jedi… before Kylo Ren betrayed and killed them, and burned the Temple of Yavin to the ground…”

And then, she cracked.

There were curious waves and sparkles in the Force as she unleashed it upon the soldier, filling his mind with vivid images, memories that were still so fresh, so painful she could have wept if she still had tears.

We were our guardians, she said with her mind, I, and my master, and the Jedi. And you have betrayed us, you have betrayed our memory.

“No,” the man whispered in a crackled voice, a feverish light in his eyes. “You’re lying. You’re no Jedi. Jedi never torture people.”

“WHAT DO YOU KNOW OF THE JEDI, YOU WITLESS PIECE OF SHIT?!”

~ ~ ~

Afterwards, she had spent hours looking at the corpse, with the faintest of remorses tugging at her heart. (Its claws had abraded, as it seemed).

At least he could have been wrong, she thought.

She was no Jedi. Not anymore…

And she saw it before it was there – or one might rather say that she felt it. Looking in the mirror was an unnecessary verification: it was unmistakeably there in her eyes -

Just the faintest shade of yellow.

Prompt 66 - Point of View

'Regardless'

“Well, do we have an assumption for today?”

The question was casual, careless even, and just a tiny little bit vacant. Not that she’d expected anything else, with so much going on in the temple, with the shadow of some grasp-less fear lingering in the air. If anyone, then Jyn could feel how the Force pulsed with eager, devouring darkness under the surface tension, still smooth as glass – but equally transparent.

Master Luke, however, was nothing if not dutiful. And self-consistent.

“No, Master,” Jyn said, gathering all the insolence she could find in herself, “we most certainly have nothing for today. Your thoughts are so far away from here I cannot even feel them. I, however, have something you would perhaps call an assumption, although it is more like a persuasion.”

“Persuasions convey emotions, and emotions are enemies to neutrality. Your assumption – in itself – is a paradox.”

“You have not even heard it yet!” Jyn snapped, suddenly out of his patience. “Master,” she quickly added.

“Yet I seem to have teared it down already, since you are careless enough to label your thoughts like one labels jars.”

“Fine,” Jyn gave up, “then an assumption it is. Would you care to hear it?”

“It seems that I shall, regardless.”

Jyn wished Master Luke would look just a little bit less smug while she prepared to make the greatest revelation of her young life. But wishes, as we know, are not always granted.

“I assume,” she said, taking a deep breath, “that truth, as a notion, is fictive.”

“And not relative,” Master Luke tilted his head, blue eyes X-raying her mind.

“No, Master. Completely fictive.”

“Very interesting,” the Jedi’s mind suddenly felt less distant, less obscure through the bonding power of the Force, and his focus switched to dimensions Jyn could at least perceive. “How can you support that claim?”

“With conclusions I have drawn from what we already know about relativity,” said Jyn. She knew she needed to watch her words now. “You know how my… power works, and that sometimes, I catch a glimpse into people’s minds without even wanting to actively do it. I have witnessed many arguments, many grudges people held against each other… and in each case, all of them were equally certain about the truth of their own assumptions, their own point of view. Now, let’s imagine that two people claim completely opposite things, and both of their claims can be supported with equally strong arguments. In this case, either both claims are true or neither. Consequently, either the truth is ambiguous in itself, or it is completely non-existent. And if truth is what we claim it to be – something absolute, something superior – then how can it be ambiguous?”

“Absolution is ambiguous in itself, containing all assumptions and their opposites, as well all elements of the scale in between,” said Master Luke calmly. “Truth, from one point of view, is a synonym of absolution.”

“In that case, Master, what we, in everyday use have named truth is non-existent, and the real nature of truth is completely irrelevant in argumentation. Which means that you are proving my point.”

Her master smiled at her. “Then tell me, at what temperature does water boil?”

Jyn furrowed. “Depends.”

“Depends on what?”

“Physical and chemical conditions. Location. Pressure. Tension. Perhaps even gravity, I don’t know…”

“Which means that provided the necessary data and background knowledge, we are perfectly capable of saying at what exact temperature shall water boil. Let us say that water shall boil at X. Even if I say, with all the conviction of my mind that it shall boil at Y, even if I list logically supportable arguments to prove my point, the accuracy of temperature X shall not change. Which means that we have one solid truth there, regardless of any argumentation, however brilliant and flawless it might be.”

Jyn sighed as the beautiful arch of her logic collapsed in front of her mind’s eye. “But,” she shook her head. “Well, there are many counter-examples.”

“Whenever emotions are involved, as it seems.”

“Can you show me one conscious being without emotions, Master? Or instincts, even? Anything that may distort pure logical principles in their head?”

Master Luke smiled approvingly, and Jyn read his answer from that smile.

“The conclusion I’m tempted to draw from what I have heard today,” said the Jedi, playing with the foldings of his cloak, “is that truth, as a notion, is incomprehensive for any being with thoughts and feelings – or instincts. Nature seems to be based on principles of truth and occurrences, yet we, as products of nature seem to be completely alien to it. The true question here… can we label a notion as fictive, merely because we do not have the means to grasp it? This is what I would like you to answer tomorrow.”

“But that is just a question of belief,” Jyn’s eyes went wide. “Or preference.”

“Tomorrow, I said.”

Prompt 76 - Harbor

'Anchor cast'

“Did you know…,” said Han from the far end of the cockpit, then his voice trailed off. Luke, however, half-heard, half-felt the rest; all of it – even the parts he did not care to know. So much for being a renowned Jedi Master, completely in control of the Force…

“Did I know – what?” He asked back when the tension became just too much to bear. All the possible continuations of that question were drumming on the scattered walls of his retreating mind like lazer-shots on an X-wing’s shield.

“Jacen told me the other day that he couldn’t believe what people said about me,” Tall, graceful General Solo stood with a wry smile, waving around the remains of some half-cut wire in his closed fist. “Ain’t no way you could have ever been a smuggler, Dad…”

Luke could not suppress a soft, light laugh.

“You think that’s funny? I’m becoming the sort of guy I’ve made fun of my entire life! General Solo, my ass!”

“It’s not like you’re a General of the Empire, either…”

“No matter, it’s all the same!” Han muttered a few unprintable words under his breath. “I mean, of course it isn’t, but – my own kids don’t even know me. No one knows me anymore. Ben and Jyn are safely tucked away at your Academy, growing up to be clean-mannered mind-readers. Jacen has these completely delirious dreams of leading the Senate and bringing peace to the Republic – we have heard that before, haven’t we -, and Leia is just helping him around with whatever stupid idea sticks into his mind. And I… everyone in the entire Republic has forgotten who I truly am.”

“Starting with you, perhaps?” said Luke gently, although he suddenly wished he wouldn’t.

“Starting with me, damn it. I must have truly believed for some time that I was General Solo, and not some no-good rascal. How I miss being a no-good rascal, you have no idea!”

“And I miss being a rebel, sometimes,” Luke bent backwards in the pilot’s seat, watched the alignment of distant stars in the view the Falcon’s front windows offered. “But you can’t rebel against your own system, can you?”