Stop it. [Hissed out. Brimming with fear - he knows how far the apparition has come. How much he's let it. Reels away from its nonexistent touch to turn instead to the only thing left untouched amongst the wreckage of his own belongings: Vader's helmet, twisted and broken and resolute in its silence. Preserved where so much else had become nothing.
Like him, he had always imagined. Some mournful, poetic parallel running cleanly through his bloodline. The last of Darth Vader's near-forgotten legacy holding out amongst dust and decay.
He sets his hands on either side of its pedestal - breathes in deep, inhaling the soft, distant smell of smoke. The only reality he'll dare permit.]
no subject
Like him, he had always imagined. Some mournful, poetic parallel running cleanly through his bloodline. The last of Darth Vader's near-forgotten legacy holding out amongst dust and decay.
He sets his hands on either side of its pedestal - breathes in deep, inhaling the soft, distant smell of smoke. The only reality he'll dare permit.]
Grandfather, I need you--