Sith didn't fare so well, out from under Horuset's light. Red skin faded towards orange, tendrils weakened, claws turned thin and buckled. He was born orange, didn't have any tendrils, and he'd inherited flat, blunt nails from his father.
But he still felt like kath crud if he didn't put sun lamps in his room anyway. Hybrid biology was stupid like that sometimes.
Usually the dry warmth helped him concentrate, but today it wasn't working. Too many other things to think about--his master's imminent betrayal first and foremost. It had been clear from almost the start that Baras didn't really see him as an apprentice he was going to keep: Baras had other apprentices he had failed to mention, and the man chewed through operatives at a pretty unsustainable rate, mostly by throwing an expendable apprentice at them. It was only a matter of time before Baras tried to have him killed too.
That was the ground state for Sith anyway, but right now it was actually worrying him. Baras was planning something big, but he had no idea what. Nothing had quite panned out, and his only remaining leads needed more time before he could do anything with them.
This was the sort of bad relationships and stress that had gotten him into party drugs and rage highs in the first place. He was doing better at keeping off of both these days, but--fuck, no, couldn't start thinking like that, he knew where that would go if he let it.
Maybe he should just try messing with the crystals again.
He set down his datapad on his bed next to him, hauling himself up to a sitting position and folding his legs up under him. He wasn't going to touch the actual physical crystals he'd been collecting--they'd already picked up enough bad feelings from him before he'd calmed the the hell down and remembered you could solve problems without murder. He'd been working on realigning them, and he wasn't in a good mood to try now. But maybe he could make another attempt to get his head around his other project.
He closed his eyes, trying to block out the rest of the galaxy: just feel the heat of the lamps on his skin, watch the patterns on the inside of his eyelids dance as he breathed deep, letting those fuzzy shapes fade into light refracting through himself.
Thinking of himself as a solid, single crystal was simple enough. He'd had weirder thoughts when he was stoned, honestly. Even splitting himself into a whole field of shining facets was pretty tame. But he was still trying to push it further. He knew he had it in him to be more complex than that.
It was an idea he'd held onto since before prison and the Academy. Kolir had figured out a pretty reliable stand-by for keeping his mates entertained when they were too high to be trusted with speeders--even autopiloted ones. Even stolen autopiloted ones. He'd found some geometric holograms someone had put together, projections of higher-dimensional shapes spinning through space you couldn't see. He'd fucking loved those things. Could watch them for hours, especially the really complicated ones. Fractals were obviously a huge hit.
And he still just liked them on an aesthetic level. Clean edges sliding and stretching in ways the eye struggled to follow, passing through itself but not really. Wrapping his head around it had been nearly impossible until he'd sobered up and gotten his hands on two very important things: the Force, and advanced maths.
The maths were honestly harder than the Force was, but he knew they could work together if he just figured out the right way to go about it. He had some help--Captain Quinn literally quivered with delight the first time he'd asked him for assistance with a textbook--and he had an actual work excuse for spending his time on this. It actually made him better in the field.
Jedi and Sith were trained to keep mental defenses up when fighting, and to try and tear down their opponent on the mental plane at the same time. But most of the techniques were surface-level, it always seemed. Like the basic training soldiers got. No theory, not enough to know how to improvise or push further. Sith just emotionally battered people until they gave up, or tried to parry and stab with sharp edges. Jedi tried to build an implacable, devouring wall of nothing, which was admittedly pretty intimidating. But everyone got taught basic thoughts to keep in mind: mantras, mental images, key events, that sort of thing. Everyone just seemed to think of what they needed to defend as "me, but with armor on". And everyone else assumed what they were attacking was "them, but uglier".
So a more abstract shape was an advantage. The shape surprised those who tried to push on his mind, they couldn't quite grasp what they were dealing with at first. But once they got it, they could conceptualize it without too much effort. At that point, it was hard to keep the upper hand. But a shape that was literally impossible within their plane of existence? That would stump them for a while.
And he could feel pretty doing it, which was always a plus.
He'd made some strides so far, managed to wrap his mind around some basic rotations. When it clicked, it felt right, and he could look at himself from any side along that axis that he felt like. But combining them was still a stumbling process. Moving was even harder. Trying to keep track of every face in a rectified or runcitruncated 5-cell (damn but that name did suck) was too hard to do consciously. It had to be instinct, working with the Force to push himself through a space that his body couldn't follow. And he wasn't there yet. He had pieces of it, but that wasn't yet good enough.
He kept stumbling, like chunks of him were sticking to the three-dimensional floor. It wasn't a good feeling. Probably not one he needed today. But if he tried just a little more...
Things had been simpler when only his kind existed within the Force - though of course they didn't call it that. For Gabriel, the Force simply was existence - in as pure a form as it could be. They didn't think about it far beyond that. But when other things started pulling at it from the first three dimensions, things had gotten... squiggly.
Many of their kind had simply left - pushed farther out into the infinite dark to avoid the minnows nipping at their ankles. But Gabriel stayed. They didn't know why. Perhaps because it was interesting, seeing the world change after being untouchable so long. But it had also introduced them to a brand new concept: pain. Suffering.
The world that Gabriel had dedicated itself to disintegrated under the destructive force of the three dimensional force weilders, and rather than destroy for the sake of destruction, Gabriel had pulled itself deeper into the higher dimensions, and left. But they couldn't quite bring themselves to leave the smaller people completely behind, no matter how much it hurt. So they kept wandering back - just to watch, of course. That was all.
Just to watch.
It was a strange little crystal filament that alerted Gabriel first. He was out in no where, floating among the stars, and suddenly it was lik crystal broke through time and space right in front of them. A little startled, Gabriel rapidly cycled through all dimensions to find the source - a whirlwind of shape and form that blinked and disappeared incredibly quickly. The first three dimensions were obviously the base - there was nothing else above them, and in those they found a ship, and on that ship--
No, that didn't make sense. It had been a crystal that Gabriel saw, not a creature. Not a man.
A low, confused sound reverberated through the lower dimensions.
That. What was that? It wasn't just a voice in his room. That would've been worrying, but he knew how to deal with that sort of thing. When his focus snapped outward, suddenly there was a presence everywhere around him. Through him. He'd felt that voice in his chest like it was his own.
He couldn't get the shape of it. He opened his eyes, just to confirm: nothing there.
He definitely wasn't high, though. Or paranoid from withdrawal.
There was something here, something that felt impossible, and it was apparently just as confused as he was. "I don't mean you any harm," he said. "I just want to talk."
"It couldn't harm me," the voice said, almost closer to a vibration - a mumble through dimensions.
Gabriel had a better sense of where the thing was, if not what it was, and so they pushed more of themselves into the first three dimensions, but not in any sensible shape. It had been a long time since they'd tried to be a sensible shape.
Whatever the twisting tendriled shape was, it at least had plenty of eyes. Maybe that way Gabriel could tell what they were looking at.
"Oh. It's sort of a person." Which immediately afterward felt a little rude, and so Gabriel tried to force itself into some sort of humanoid shape. It only vaguely succeeded.
"You're probably right," he admitted. He had no idea what this was, but it was powerful. Couldn't see it, but he could--
He felt it slide, and suddenly the air was boiling with shapes. Right. He could it now. Didn't clear up anything else, but he could definitely see it.
He'd never had any psychotic episodes beyond the kind you expected from drugs, so this was apparently happening. Which was fortunate, because that meant he had the presence of mind to fight down the stab of irritation at the 'sort of a person' bit.
"My name is Rejalgar. I am..." He watched it shift, distracted. "Good question, really." He didn't know what way it meant. What species was he? What was his place in the Force, that sort of thing?
"I'm half-Sith." That pretty much summed it up on all aspects.
He belatedly realized: he'd been sunning himself before he started meditating.
First contact with the most alien creature he'd ever seen, and he didn't even have pants on.
"Oh, you're half an anger-shaper. A fierce-molder. What is the other half?
Is it crystal?"
As the being spoke, its form solidified further and further, though what
passed for its flesh still seemed to move like liquid over its form, darted
with stars. They blinked in and out of existence, sparkling around the
multitude of eyes. But slowly it became obvious that it was trying to mimic
Rejalgar - everyhting it could see, anyway. Which made its form suddenly
look very naked. It didn't seem to mind.
"But you are singlular. I had thought... It is of no concern, but I had
thought you more than singular. You reached farther than your kind usually
does. You are Rejalgar. I am Gabriel of the Seventh Star."
"Crystal--? You saw my practicing?" And it had--not mistaken him for that, it was real enough in some way. Just not the ways people usually thought of as real. Could it sense those things more easily? Or--
He hadn't been able to see it when it turned up. Was it-- "Are you--you're showing a piece of yourself, aren't you? A three-dimensional piece." A piece that was beginning to look more and more like himself. Creepy, but hopefully Vette would figure out if he got spirited away by an awkward, naked doppelgänger.
Either he was dreaming, or he had just won so many philosophical debates with G--
Okay. That was a hell of a coincidence. Or a friend was fucking with him. "I've been trying to reach out, but I didn't know anyone was there."
"A piece. Or pieces. Sometimes or not all the time or always. It's hard to
hold form in three dimensions only."
The copy-cat act only went so far. When Gabriel finally found a relatively
stable form, it stopped its transformations, and tried to stand still. It -
He - opened his eyes, blazing bright as a neutron star, and tried to close
the rest of them. He forgot to close three that were on his shoulders, but.
At least he was relatively less eye-full.
"Mm, it is very quiet. I only happened to be drifting near. Most have left.
I am the only anything left. At least in this time."
Slowly, Gabriel turned his head, looking around the room with real
three-dimensional eyes for the first time. It was very weirdly
disconcerting - like he was nearly blind and deaf at the same time. But it
was also different.
"Oh, I didn't make my eyes properly. Why are they so complicated? It is
much simpler, over all." He blinked as he reshaped the lenses in his eye,
and the blurred aspect of his newfound vision sharpened into focus.
"Better. You wanted to talk?"
Three dimensions only. Holy shit. "Right, trying to hold a cross-section in the right place wouldn't be easy." Right. Okay. Just a higher-dimensional being, last of its kind hanging out in reach of the Force around here. Just the most amazing thing he'd ever seen.
And it was willing to talk. About a lot so far, too much to go through individually right now. "If this is three dimensions, how many dimensions can you perceive?" Had to be at least four, but--it had seen his mental landscape, not just his body here.
"Would it be easier if I tried to be crystal again?" He didn't want to drive this thing off by tiring it out somehow, how the hell would he find it again if it left?
"They went to the blank places, without things to poke at them," Gabriel
said, then paused, not quite frowning, exactly, as he didn't quite
have a sense of expressions, yet, but the mood was somehow conveyed anyway.
"Ah - sorry. Linear time. What had it said? Cross-section -- No. It is not
easy. It is not difficult, either, exactly. It is more like trying not to
do something than trying to do something, and trying not to do it very
slowly. How does it make the touch again? Ah - nerve endings. Yes, I
remember." Gabriel's form seemed to ripple slightly on the surface, but he
didn't move otherwise.
"Uhm - numbers mean less, but you would call it nine. Likely could touch
higher, if there was higher, and I knew how. Like you can, with your
crystals. But it isn't necessary. Can you see, as a crystal? Or do you just
see the three dimensions and blindly gesture into beyond them."
Expressions weren't really what he was focusing on anyway, sensing this thing through the Force was always going to be easier. It was something bigger, more complicated--
Way more complicated. "I can see a little. Not through nine dimensions, though. It's--" He bites his lower lip, sliding skin and teeth against the rings there. "I know I can be more than three dimensions, but I've only just started. It's still confusing. Learning how to use new senses. Using the Force."
"Have you spoken to other Sith before?" ...Did 'before' actually mean anything for a higher-dimensional being? Usually that would be a really pointless, stoned train of thought, but there was a real reason for it this time. That wasn't even getting at the question of how this thing could speak Basic or whether it was actually speaking Basic and he was just perceiving this as sound when it was really--
"The Force..." Gabriel mulls over the word, drawing and lengthening it out.
"Ah. Existence. Yes. Sometimes it feels just as strongly as the rest. If
you can feel it, you can use it. Many smaller beings can't. But there is
far more, if you can reach it."
He raised his hand, running his fingers against each other, and then
reached out to touch a wall. On his first try, his hand just went through
it. "Oh. Need more atoms." The second time, his hand pressed to the cool
bulkhead. "Oh... Touch needs temperature. So complicated."
He only then seemed to register that he'd been asked another question. "Ah
- no. I don't think so. I haven't spoken much to anyone, in a while. I had
a planet, for a time. And they were good. But they are gone."
"Existence? You--so you're a part of the Force?" Okay, technically he was too--"I mean, that's where most of you is?"
Okay. So, a being that might be made of Force energy was currently building itself a body and having trouble with concepts like solidity and eyes. In his bedroom. Cool.
"I'm sorry for their loss." It 'had' a planet, though? "Why did you chose that planet? What did you do with it?"
"I liked it," Gabriel said simply. As he concentrated on trying to touch
the wall, he apparently lost concentration on the rest of him, and little
tendrils of darkness were starting to drift outwards from his back, curling
and twisting in their own wind.
"It had many beings on it. Small ones. Compact ones. This was before things
that could poke - or, at least, that could not poke strongly. So there were
others, though I tried to keep them away from my planet. They like to eat.
You know. A star. A being. They see little difference. I like
beings. Not for eating but for being. But they destroyed themselves. I
tried to stop them, but I couldn't."
Not the work of Sith, then. He'd had half a moment of worry there. Selfish,
but with so much time spent working for Baras, you never knew when someone
nominally on your side was going to cause a mess.
"There's more like you elsewhere? Why did they leave?" He frowned slightly,
trying to parse how the conversation had gone so far. "And what do you
mean, 'poke'? Is it something we do when we use the Force?"
Oh, and apparently this thing--Gabriel--could eat him if it wanted to.
Honestly, that part was the least exotic or threatening aspect of it.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
for Gabriel
Sith didn't fare so well, out from under Horuset's light. Red skin faded towards orange, tendrils weakened, claws turned thin and buckled. He was born orange, didn't have any tendrils, and he'd inherited flat, blunt nails from his father.
But he still felt like kath crud if he didn't put sun lamps in his room anyway. Hybrid biology was stupid like that sometimes.
Usually the dry warmth helped him concentrate, but today it wasn't working. Too many other things to think about--his master's imminent betrayal first and foremost. It had been clear from almost the start that Baras didn't really see him as an apprentice he was going to keep: Baras had other apprentices he had failed to mention, and the man chewed through operatives at a pretty unsustainable rate, mostly by throwing an expendable apprentice at them. It was only a matter of time before Baras tried to have him killed too.
That was the ground state for Sith anyway, but right now it was actually worrying him. Baras was planning something big, but he had no idea what. Nothing had quite panned out, and his only remaining leads needed more time before he could do anything with them.
This was the sort of bad relationships and stress that had gotten him into party drugs and rage highs in the first place. He was doing better at keeping off of both these days, but--fuck, no, couldn't start thinking like that, he knew where that would go if he let it.
Maybe he should just try messing with the crystals again.
He set down his datapad on his bed next to him, hauling himself up to a sitting position and folding his legs up under him. He wasn't going to touch the actual physical crystals he'd been collecting--they'd already picked up enough bad feelings from him before he'd calmed the the hell down and remembered you could solve problems without murder. He'd been working on realigning them, and he wasn't in a good mood to try now. But maybe he could make another attempt to get his head around his other project.
He closed his eyes, trying to block out the rest of the galaxy: just feel the heat of the lamps on his skin, watch the patterns on the inside of his eyelids dance as he breathed deep, letting those fuzzy shapes fade into light refracting through himself.
Thinking of himself as a solid, single crystal was simple enough. He'd had weirder thoughts when he was stoned, honestly. Even splitting himself into a whole field of shining facets was pretty tame. But he was still trying to push it further. He knew he had it in him to be more complex than that.
It was an idea he'd held onto since before prison and the Academy. Kolir had figured out a pretty reliable stand-by for keeping his mates entertained when they were too high to be trusted with speeders--even autopiloted ones. Even stolen autopiloted ones. He'd found some geometric holograms someone had put together, projections of higher-dimensional shapes spinning through space you couldn't see. He'd fucking loved those things. Could watch them for hours, especially the really complicated ones. Fractals were obviously a huge hit.
And he still just liked them on an aesthetic level. Clean edges sliding and stretching in ways the eye struggled to follow, passing through itself but not really. Wrapping his head around it had been nearly impossible until he'd sobered up and gotten his hands on two very important things: the Force, and advanced maths.
The maths were honestly harder than the Force was, but he knew they could work together if he just figured out the right way to go about it. He had some help--Captain Quinn literally quivered with delight the first time he'd asked him for assistance with a textbook--and he had an actual work excuse for spending his time on this. It actually made him better in the field.
Jedi and Sith were trained to keep mental defenses up when fighting, and to try and tear down their opponent on the mental plane at the same time. But most of the techniques were surface-level, it always seemed. Like the basic training soldiers got. No theory, not enough to know how to improvise or push further. Sith just emotionally battered people until they gave up, or tried to parry and stab with sharp edges. Jedi tried to build an implacable, devouring wall of nothing, which was admittedly pretty intimidating. But everyone got taught basic thoughts to keep in mind: mantras, mental images, key events, that sort of thing. Everyone just seemed to think of what they needed to defend as "me, but with armor on". And everyone else assumed what they were attacking was "them, but uglier".
So a more abstract shape was an advantage. The shape surprised those who tried to push on his mind, they couldn't quite grasp what they were dealing with at first. But once they got it, they could conceptualize it without too much effort. At that point, it was hard to keep the upper hand. But a shape that was literally impossible within their plane of existence? That would stump them for a while.
And he could feel pretty doing it, which was always a plus.
He'd made some strides so far, managed to wrap his mind around some basic rotations. When it clicked, it felt right, and he could look at himself from any side along that axis that he felt like. But combining them was still a stumbling process. Moving was even harder. Trying to keep track of every face in a rectified or runcitruncated 5-cell (damn but that name did suck) was too hard to do consciously. It had to be instinct, working with the Force to push himself through a space that his body couldn't follow. And he wasn't there yet. He had pieces of it, but that wasn't yet good enough.
He kept stumbling, like chunks of him were sticking to the three-dimensional floor. It wasn't a good feeling. Probably not one he needed today. But if he tried just a little more...
no subject
Things had been simpler when only his kind existed within the Force - though of course they didn't call it that. For Gabriel, the Force simply was existence - in as pure a form as it could be. They didn't think about it far beyond that. But when other things started pulling at it from the first three dimensions, things had gotten... squiggly.
Many of their kind had simply left - pushed farther out into the infinite dark to avoid the minnows nipping at their ankles. But Gabriel stayed. They didn't know why. Perhaps because it was interesting, seeing the world change after being untouchable so long. But it had also introduced them to a brand new concept: pain. Suffering.
The world that Gabriel had dedicated itself to disintegrated under the destructive force of the three dimensional force weilders, and rather than destroy for the sake of destruction, Gabriel had pulled itself deeper into the higher dimensions, and left. But they couldn't quite bring themselves to leave the smaller people completely behind, no matter how much it hurt. So they kept wandering back - just to watch, of course. That was all.
Just to watch.
It was a strange little crystal filament that alerted Gabriel first. He was out in no where, floating among the stars, and suddenly it was lik crystal broke through time and space right in front of them. A little startled, Gabriel rapidly cycled through all dimensions to find the source - a whirlwind of shape and form that blinked and disappeared incredibly quickly. The first three dimensions were obviously the base - there was nothing else above them, and in those they found a ship, and on that ship--
No, that didn't make sense. It had been a crystal that Gabriel saw, not a creature. Not a man.
A low, confused sound reverberated through the lower dimensions.
"... What is this?"
no subject
He couldn't get the shape of it. He opened his eyes, just to confirm: nothing there.
He definitely wasn't high, though. Or paranoid from withdrawal.
There was something here, something that felt impossible, and it was apparently just as confused as he was. "I don't mean you any harm," he said. "I just want to talk."
no subject
Gabriel had a better sense of where the thing was, if not what it was, and so they pushed more of themselves into the first three dimensions, but not in any sensible shape. It had been a long time since they'd tried to be a sensible shape.
Whatever the twisting tendriled shape was, it at least had plenty of eyes. Maybe that way Gabriel could tell what they were looking at.
"Oh. It's sort of a person." Which immediately afterward felt a little rude, and so Gabriel tried to force itself into some sort of humanoid shape. It only vaguely succeeded.
"It isn't us, so it's - a you. What are you?"
no subject
He felt it slide, and suddenly the air was boiling with shapes. Right. He could it now. Didn't clear up anything else, but he could definitely see it.
He'd never had any psychotic episodes beyond the kind you expected from drugs, so this was apparently happening. Which was fortunate, because that meant he had the presence of mind to fight down the stab of irritation at the 'sort of a person' bit.
"My name is Rejalgar. I am..." He watched it shift, distracted. "Good question, really." He didn't know what way it meant. What species was he? What was his place in the Force, that sort of thing?
"I'm half-Sith." That pretty much summed it up on all aspects.
He belatedly realized: he'd been sunning himself before he started meditating.
First contact with the most alien creature he'd ever seen, and he didn't even have pants on.
no subject
"Oh, you're half an anger-shaper. A fierce-molder. What is the other half? Is it crystal?"
As the being spoke, its form solidified further and further, though what passed for its flesh still seemed to move like liquid over its form, darted with stars. They blinked in and out of existence, sparkling around the multitude of eyes. But slowly it became obvious that it was trying to mimic Rejalgar - everyhting it could see, anyway. Which made its form suddenly look very naked. It didn't seem to mind.
"But you are singlular. I had thought... It is of no concern, but I had thought you more than singular. You reached farther than your kind usually does. You are Rejalgar. I am Gabriel of the Seventh Star."
no subject
He hadn't been able to see it when it turned up. Was it-- "Are you--you're showing a piece of yourself, aren't you? A three-dimensional piece." A piece that was beginning to look more and more like himself. Creepy, but hopefully Vette would figure out if he got spirited away by an awkward, naked doppelgänger.
Either he was dreaming, or he had just won so many philosophical debates with G--
Okay. That was a hell of a coincidence. Or a friend was fucking with him. "I've been trying to reach out, but I didn't know anyone was there."
no subject
"A piece. Or pieces. Sometimes or not all the time or always. It's hard to hold form in three dimensions only."
The copy-cat act only went so far. When Gabriel finally found a relatively stable form, it stopped its transformations, and tried to stand still. It - He - opened his eyes, blazing bright as a neutron star, and tried to close the rest of them. He forgot to close three that were on his shoulders, but. At least he was relatively less eye-full.
"Mm, it is very quiet. I only happened to be drifting near. Most have left. I am the only anything left. At least in this time."
Slowly, Gabriel turned his head, looking around the room with real three-dimensional eyes for the first time. It was very weirdly disconcerting - like he was nearly blind and deaf at the same time. But it was also different.
"Oh, I didn't make my eyes properly. Why are they so complicated? It is much simpler, over all." He blinked as he reshaped the lenses in his eye, and the blurred aspect of his newfound vision sharpened into focus. "Better. You wanted to talk?"
no subject
And it was willing to talk. About a lot so far, too much to go through individually right now. "If this is three dimensions, how many dimensions can you perceive?" Had to be at least four, but--it had seen his mental landscape, not just his body here.
"Would it be easier if I tried to be crystal again?" He didn't want to drive this thing off by tiring it out somehow, how the hell would he find it again if it left?
no subject
"They went to the blank places, without things to poke at them," Gabriel said, then paused, not quite frowning, exactly, as he didn't quite have a sense of expressions, yet, but the mood was somehow conveyed anyway. "Ah - sorry. Linear time. What had it said? Cross-section -- No. It is not easy. It is not difficult, either, exactly. It is more like trying not to do something than trying to do something, and trying not to do it very slowly. How does it make the touch again? Ah - nerve endings. Yes, I remember." Gabriel's form seemed to ripple slightly on the surface, but he didn't move otherwise.
"Uhm - numbers mean less, but you would call it nine. Likely could touch higher, if there was higher, and I knew how. Like you can, with your crystals. But it isn't necessary. Can you see, as a crystal? Or do you just see the three dimensions and blindly gesture into beyond them."
no subject
Way more complicated. "I can see a little. Not through nine dimensions, though. It's--" He bites his lower lip, sliding skin and teeth against the rings there. "I know I can be more than three dimensions, but I've only just started. It's still confusing. Learning how to use new senses. Using the Force."
"Have you spoken to other Sith before?" ...Did 'before' actually mean anything for a higher-dimensional being? Usually that would be a really pointless, stoned train of thought, but there was a real reason for it this time. That wasn't even getting at the question of how this thing could speak Basic or whether it was actually speaking Basic and he was just perceiving this as sound when it was really--
Okay, maybe lay off that for the moment.
no subject
"The Force..." Gabriel mulls over the word, drawing and lengthening it out. "Ah. Existence. Yes. Sometimes it feels just as strongly as the rest. If you can feel it, you can use it. Many smaller beings can't. But there is far more, if you can reach it."
He raised his hand, running his fingers against each other, and then reached out to touch a wall. On his first try, his hand just went through it. "Oh. Need more atoms." The second time, his hand pressed to the cool bulkhead. "Oh... Touch needs temperature. So complicated."
He only then seemed to register that he'd been asked another question. "Ah - no. I don't think so. I haven't spoken much to anyone, in a while. I had a planet, for a time. And they were good. But they are gone."
no subject
Okay. So, a being that might be made of Force energy was currently building itself a body and having trouble with concepts like solidity and eyes. In his bedroom. Cool.
"I'm sorry for their loss." It 'had' a planet, though? "Why did you chose that planet? What did you do with it?"
no subject
"I liked it," Gabriel said simply. As he concentrated on trying to touch the wall, he apparently lost concentration on the rest of him, and little tendrils of darkness were starting to drift outwards from his back, curling and twisting in their own wind.
"It had many beings on it. Small ones. Compact ones. This was before things that could poke - or, at least, that could not poke strongly. So there were others, though I tried to keep them away from my planet. They like to eat. You know. A star. A being. They see little difference. I like beings. Not for eating but for being. But they destroyed themselves. I tried to stop them, but I couldn't."
no subject
Not the work of Sith, then. He'd had half a moment of worry there. Selfish, but with so much time spent working for Baras, you never knew when someone nominally on your side was going to cause a mess.
"There's more like you elsewhere? Why did they leave?" He frowned slightly, trying to parse how the conversation had gone so far. "And what do you mean, 'poke'? Is it something we do when we use the Force?"
Oh, and apparently this thing--Gabriel--could eat him if it wanted to. Honestly, that part was the least exotic or threatening aspect of it.