howlingplayground | (no subject)

Misa is waiting in the only place she can be hidden and not found on this Death Star: Lord Vader's quarters. She'd tried to meditate earlier and had been, well, poked because the Emperor would be able to find her then. She hates not having anything to do, but apparently, her nervous energy blends in with all the other nervous energy on this... horrific monstrosity.

She sighs and leans against the door, her head tilted back as she stares at the ceiling. She concentrates just enough to know that a fight has started. So. Skywalker had shown up? Good. But that doesn't mean that she's not going to help. Oh, she's not stupid enough to go marching into the throne room and trying to decapitate Palpatine - though it's tempting - but she knows that her Lord cannot survive this without her. Her visions had shown her that much, though she's not sure what to think about them.

Another sigh as she begins to pace again. She needs to get out of here, to get somewhere... Her head snaps up. Something had happened to her Lord. Something... Alarms start going off all over the Death Star and she says his orders be damned, she's not staying here. He needs her.

The entire base is in disarray. Stormtroopers and officers are running all which way. She doesn't care about them. She needs to find him. Racing down corridors that she doesn't find familiar, trailing his fading Force presence, Misa is not going to let him die. She doesn't know that she can help him, but she's going to try!

She skids around a corner, slamming into a trio of Stormtroopers that fall as she uses the Force to right herself. Palpatine is dead. She can tell that. He's dead! She stops, reorienting herself and then dashes off again, sliding around another corner. THERE! There he is. Being helped by... Who is that?

But then the guy falls, and she can't hear what he's saying to her Lord as she pounds her way through the people between them and her. She skids to her knees, just as he's reaching for the helmet. "Don't!" She says, panting. "Don't, you'll kill him!" She puts her hand on Lord Vader's shoulder. "And I'm not going to let you die." She whispers as the Force flows through her, slowly - painstakingly slowly - trying to stabilize her Lord. "We need to get him on the ship and into his bed." She says, not looking at the man who had been carrying Vader. "Please, help me." She waves at the black shuttle that is Lord Vader's private ship that they'd been headed for.

Threaded | Flat

It's almost like being on autopilot. But there's a difference, when it's being orchestrated by the Force. Or maybe it always was, this feeling of knowing every step before he takes it, of all his actions fluid and foreordained. And now, with training, he's aware of it.

He has Vader--no, Anakin--almost to the ship, when the girl shows up. He'd been vaguely aware of her before, but only in the way he's aware of every life on this station, of the mixing and mingling of energies both individual and adding up to a maelstrom of panic and anger and despair.

He has enough of those of his own, thanks.

So when the girl approaches, telling him things he's already doing after the past hours/days/months of constant strain, he just stares for a long moment.

"It's not my decision to make," he says at last, looking back at his father. And reaching again to fulfill Anakin's request to remove his mask.