D E A T H
With how out of it he had been, it was a wonder at all that Arcturus had been capable of conjuring up a disguise through the Force. It had done very little to tame his disheveled look, of course, there was no fixing the state of his clothes, but at least the cloak covered some of it. He couldn't recall the last time he'd worn a new set of clothes; Arcturus was still wearing the same thing he'd last been seen in, before his untimely and unplanned disappearance from Korriban just ahead of the Eternal's collapse. A mess... That summed him up pretty well, in more than one way.
His feet had led him while his mind was away with the birds. Led him straight into one of the IGBC buildings, as though expecting Maliphant to have just been holed up there all this time. Whatever he'd said to the front desk had put him in front of some higher up or another, and from there he'd been quietly escorted elsewhere in the city. To an extremely cushy hotel room. He'd been measured at a glance, new clothes had arrived shortly after, and all of the amenities he could possibly require were offered up to him. Just a click away.
Most of it had been a blur. It wasn't until he'd stepped under the flow of a rain shower head that he began to reorient himself. Pulled back from his out of body state to reality. There was a constant low droning in his ears, a heavy pulse that culminated in the veins at his neck, a sickening sensation lurching in his gut. Reality wasn't all it was cracked up to be. He begged his mind to rip him away again... It wouldn't comply.
Out of the shower, he finally got a good look at himself. His time away had done a real number on him; Face gaunt, eyes hollow, more new scars than he dared count. He prodded at a couple of them that seemed more recent, a burn against his forearm reminding him of his little tiff with the Sithspawn boy, a bite mark where neck met shoulder courtesy of the Dreaming Dark's most insidious denizens. Truth be told, Arcturus didn't recognize himself. Even with the glamour of a false face now gone. Time hadn't really passed for him the same as it had the Galaxy at large, he'd only been back in Realspace for a few weeks at most. The Nether really sapped you though, if you let it. And he had.
Unable to look at himself any longer, he turned and dressed in what turned out to be surprisingly comfy slacks and a button down shirt. A far cry from what he'd been wearing upon arrival. Those clothes, he discovered, were nowhere to be seen. No doubt someone had been under strict orders to dispose of them before he was done washing up. Nobody remained in the hotel suite when he exited the refresher though. He was alone again. And up here, so high above the bustling cityscape, where all sounds of the world below were blocked out, it was far more deafening.
He helped himself to some of the liquor present in the room. A cushy suite indeed. Downed himself a small glass of what burned like whiskey, then went to pour a second. In the short span of time between those actions his head began to swim, and his stomach groaned in protest. Food, it whined. But he didn't have food immediately on hand. He had his drink. So drink he did.
At some point he did call down for room service though. At some point food did arrive, and he did consume at least some of it. He was back to struggling with that, though, as hungry as his stomach was it never could tolerate much of it.
Eventually he found himself before one of the floor to ceiling panels of glass which separated him from Coruscant proper. Most of the buttons of his shirt had come undone, and he'd never bothered to put socks or shoes on. He sat there, cross-legged, and just watched as the airspeeders drifted by. A taller glass was being nursed in one hand, the other supported his chosen stance - palm pressed firmly into the ground. Somewhere around the room a series of little golems pottered about. Nwit, also, had slumped in a corner - lifeless eyes set on watching the boy.
He paid none of them any heed.
