#Dooku's head is very much arguing back with him btw his body is timid like a kicked dog but his head is a BITCH as in life

[charmwasjess]

Late to the game but uh. Come Find Me? 👀

Not late, my wonderful dude, you have some fantastic timing!! <3 I've been trying to finish the first section of this today for a Halloween post.

The premise is, Sifo-Dyas's ghost is wandering through Dagobah-esque swamp, trying to find all of Dooku's severed body parts (body, head, hands) while they're both being low key haunted by the clones who were killed in the war. It's surreal and so weird and not AT ALL my usual thing.

….but uh, I just really needed to write Sifo-Dyas meandering around the afterlife with Dooku's severed head tucked under his arm, having loud arguments with it? 👉👈

Anyway, here's some from the first part -

Come find me!

His last words into the recording transmitter before the Oba Diah moon comes rushing up to smash him, the last time.

It destroys all of him: his past, his future, his dreadful fears and poisoned hopes, the ordinary love in his ordinary heart, even his familiar T-6 shuttle. Funny, the moon’s surface and its dust storms had looked so soft from above, drifting in dancing swirls. They are not soft.

Don’t worry, don’t worry. He doesn’t remember it hurting. 

No, to Sifo-Dyas, it feels like this: a kind of intolerable, shrieking loudness throughout his entire body, rattling his teeth and bones, and then, at last, finally, quiet. 

Quiet for such a long time. 

Come find me, he’d asked. Thinking of his devoted Master Lene Kostana, or his only other true friend, Jocasta Nu, who never left a question unanswered. His former colleagues on the Jedi Council, sure to investigate his death as a matter of protocol. His Dooku - one of the only two people who knew he'd be there to be killed. The other, the Supreme Chancellor. The Force, which connects and directs all, which gave him his gift, but no instruction on how to live with it. 

Well, he doesn't live. And no one ever comes to find him. 

So, ever practical, or perhaps ever impatient, Sifo-Dyas just pushes himself back upright out of the rubble and starts walking.