potato salad for the soldiers

[t65]

Who: Luke Skywalker and YOU maybe
When: The merry month of May.
Where: The Moira, Amissis-Re and possibly other universes, who knows.
What: Catchall log for Luke, with open prompts and closed prompts in comments.
Warnings: None for now, but I will let you know if things progress to the level of (gasp) PG-13.

Comments

[heartscold]

[Len has commandeered an empty table in the mess hall between meal shifts for the purpose of dismantling and cleaning his gun; he'd nearly been finished when this kid interrupts him. Pausing in his work, he glances up, one eyebrow raised slightly.]

I dunno, our definitions of fun might be entirely different. What's in it for me?

[t65]

[Luke just keeps on smiling, seemingly impervious to whatever gloom the other man seems to be providing.] Well, you get to throw things at me. That's fun for most people, right?

[heartscold]

[He considers this idea, tilting his head to the side, but still doesn't make a move to get up.] Could be. Depends what the "things" are.

[At the moment, this kid hasn't irritated him enough for him to warrant getting things thrown at him. Yet. Give it a minute.]

[t65]

Um, I've mostly been using wet rags, but if you have a suggestion... [Luke shrugs. He's up for anything. A Jedi should be able to adapt to every situation.]

[heartscold]

[That gets a raised eyebrow.] I suppose the question should be, why are you wanting things thrown at you?

[And wet rags? No thanks, that's weird. He'd rather throw ice. Or snowballs.

Or maybe just shoot you...]