Brilliant, on a curve of Skywalker

Ben, it must be noted, was not sleeping on Ender's head. He owed something to the only friend who would not have put bows around his neck over the last week and who had also provided milk and tuna on a regular basis.

Ben, as a cat, did not feel that this largess covered Ender being allowed to keep all of his own blankets, which was why he was sprawled out on his roommate's bed, taking up far more space than a kitty of his size should really be allowed to, his eyes closed as he purred.

Yes, he'd done it last year.

Yes, he still thought it was funny.

Ben glanced at the calendar one more time, chuckled and commed his father.

"Skywalker."

"Hey, Dad. May the Fourth be with you!"

There was a pause and then a heavy sigh. "Again?"

Ben laughed, hung up and went back to putting his droid back together. Tiny him had been industrious about ripping it apart.

Tiny him was annoying.

[OOC: Open door, open post!]

Given the past few weeks, it was really more surprising that Ben's nightmares hadn't started sooner:

( Dream sequence, ho! )

Ben woke up screaming.

[OOC: For the roomie, should he wish...]

Ben had been slightly worried when Ender hadn't shown up for class, and more so when he'd taken their traditional coffees to an empty Stark's.

He trotted back to the dorms, wondering if Ender had come down with something--it wasn't like him to just skip out on class or work--and felt the hair on the back of his neck rise as he approached their room. He could tell already that no one was home, but he opened the door anyway.

Both coffees hit the floor when he saw the note.

He ignored the "don't worry" and the thing about Caligula, focusing instead on "eye of the storm."

Ender was gone, disappearing like Val had. Ben shoved aside a furious--and pointless--surge of hate for Graff. There was no proof it was his fault.

Yet.

He stared at the piece of paper for a long while, hoping that maybe rereading it a few thousand more times would help him to understand what the hell Ender was doing.

He'd forgotten to close the door behind him.

( You should have a bad feeling about this. )

[OOC: Preplayed with the lovely glacial_witch. NFI, but OOC is loved and fed pie.]

Let's be very clear: Ben was a badass, as was his roommate, and neither of them needed to snuggle a cute little whatever the thing was that had followed Ben home from his daily run.

Which was what Ben was very patiently--and then less patiently--explaining to the little thing as it tried to climb into his lap.

"You look like a middle aged Yoda," Ben laughed. "And no, I don't need a hug."

[OOC: Open door, open post!]

[The part of Ben Skywalker will now be played by James Franco.]

Ben wandered, dressed only in a towel, around his room as he decided between two equally expensive suits to wear for the day.

It was one of the perks of being heir to the Skywalker diamond mines (after Anakin had disinherited Luke for being a DA instead of following the family business of assassination, cheating, general creepiness and internet publishing), having unlimited money at his disposal.

It was a very difficult decision, finding an outfit appropriate for a man of his specific skill set: most people didn't try to juggle the competing callings of graffiti artist and assassin, but Ben Skywalker was no ordinary person.

"I think...the black," he finally said aloud.

[OOC: open, should anyone wish it...]

Ben had been going through his normal morning routine when his comlink went off. He frowned when he saw who the message was from--his father wasn't generally one for random communications--and the his breath was sucked from his lungs like he'd been sucker punched.

Thinking of you today. Miss you. --Dad.

His eyes flew to the date and he felt even worse. It was the anniversary of Mom's death and it had completely snuck up on him. Shaking off memories of flying over Kavan--of the sudden, gaping loss in the Force--with difficulty, Ben shrugged into his Jedi robe and headed to class.

It was going to be a very long day.

With the amount of stress he was under, a part of Ben was surprised that the nightmares hadn't started sooner.

( Cut for gratuitous flashbacking (and torture) )

With a cry of terror, Ben bolted upright in bed, then clapped both hands over his mouth to stop any further noises from coming out and sat there trembling and gasping for breath.

[OOC: Mostly for the roommate, if he is so inclined, but establishy otherwise.]

"Last load," Ben said from behind a pile of metal. "Think we could start our own branch of Stark's right here in the room?"

His side of his new room was already neatly organized--not that he had much that wasn't droid parts--and he was talking mostly to hide his nerves.

Given the room's other occupant, he wasn't sure why he was even trying.

[OOC: For the roommate, and then open!]