Edited foreword: This thread is mainly drabbles about scenes and ideas I have and had about Ben; about where he's been and where he's going. They're not in chronological order.
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If there was one thing Ben Merasska hadn’t quite understood about prison, it was how boring it could get. Hours upon hours spent simply staring at a wall, until hallucinated colors swirled across the surface like the haunting colors of a hyperspace jump
Also relevant to your interests and general well-being is the fact that equivalent retribution is in your very near future
and his mind wandered, which was (at least now) something he desperately tried to avoid.
It was lonely. The silence was so unbearably intense (not loud, never loud, not that old cliché) that he’d remember how Alderaan sounded in those long hours in hyperspace
So, how come you’re running hot? Did you kill someone or something?
and Albatross, and sometimes he could swear he heard Lyanie humming a tune from far away like he could sometimes hear on the Knightfall.
Exercise quickly dominated his time, though even then those damn traitorous thoughts would pop into his head and he’d remember oh stars he’d remember and it would hurt so much someone say something
Stop. Breathe. In. Out. In. Out.
At times he’d wished he was in the regular prison (regular prison? Kriff that sounded stupid he must have spent too much time in this solitary cell) so that at least he wouldn’t have to live with just himself. And no one visited. Even his food was delivered via tube, not even a droid to speak to and it was stifling unbearable I’m sorry I’m sorry it shouldn’t have been me to live so many people dead dead dead dead
He started crying uncontrollably three weeks into his sentence, and tears kept falling until he’d lost track of time. Time. He smiled, running a hand over his beard, scratching an itch and then running a hand through his hair, unkempt and greasy and Palara wouldn’t likely have anything to do with him like this.
Esther.
He was honestly surprised with himself when he realized he hadn’t thought of her for some time, considering. But now, now he remembered something that didn’t hurt, and he focused, remembering her short hair, the way she’d smiled that first time he’d made her laugh, and how much she looked like no no no don’t go there
Suddenly, even though he knew he was still unraveling like a cheaply made jacket, he didn’t feel so bad about this place, and the silence. It was like dying, but then, he’d already died before, hadn’t he? The Galaxy had simply forgot to finish the job, until now.
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