Cúrre (
hownkai) wrote in
thisavrou_log2016-09-19 04:07 pm
Entry tags:
- *event,
- all about j: j,
- danger days killjoys: the girl,
- death note: l (crau),
- mass effect: commander shepard,
- mcu: james buchanan barnes,
- metal gear: kazuhira miller,
- metal gear: venom snake,
- original character: andyr prince,
- overwatch: angela "mercy" ziegler,
- overwatch: lúcio,
- overwatch: reinhardt wilhelm,
- red vs blue: agent texas,
- star wars: rey,
- transformers idw: ultra magnus,
- transformers mtmte: riptide,
- transformers robots in disguise: sideswi,
- tron: rinzler (crau),
- undertale: mettaton,
- x-men movies: jean grey,
- x-men movies: peter maximoff
( september event log )
Who: Everyone
When: September 19th and on
Where: The Fixed Moons of the Runoff and the Moira.
What: Everything comes to a head.
Warnings: Nothing for now. Please label your content!
When: September 19th and on
Where: The Fixed Moons of the Runoff and the Moira.
What: Everything comes to a head.
Warnings: Nothing for now. Please label your content!
E V E N T L O G |
"Never be the first to arrive or the last to go, and never, ever be both."
|

han solo ][ ota
It takes him a long time to leave the party.
The worst part isn't that he can't find Leia-- it's that he can't even recall how long it's been since he's seen her, and that until now, it hasn't bothered him a bit until now. She could be lost somewhere-- she could have been dragged off to be eaten by the bugs, or run out into the jungle, or anything, and he didn't do a damn thing to stop it.
She's not the only one to have gone missing, but a man's got priorities. He stalks around the party demanding answers, shaking strangers by the shoulders to try to get them to snap out of it, snapping and staring down the hosts when they try to hand him a new drink with a side of disingenuous consolations.
But eventually he takes off for the beach, reasoning that maybe she's gone back for the ship.
This is the likeliest place you'll find him-- helping get the Moira in order, or crawling around atop the hull of the Millennium Falcon with a grim look on his face.
If he gets a say in the matter, they're not leaving this world without some answers... or possibly vengeance.]
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This means, of course, that he has to relearn what it is to school his emotions. He'd gotten so used to them running rampant — they'd run amok too long, causing the Jedi Master distraction unbecoming his role. But with that vitality returned, even the heaviest burdens feel lighter on his shoulders than they have in — well, in a year, it seems.
He suspects, particularly when he seeks out Han, that it's certainly not something to brag about. It's hardly on his radar at all, for that matter, knowing as he does all that's changed in what feels like a very short time. Empathy is the way to go. Solo surely has a lot on his mind.
Standing below the Falcon, Kenobi peers up to where Han is working. ]
Repairs to be made?
[ He only asks, because his other assumption is that Han is preparing to depart, and that leaves his throat too tight to even bring it up as an option. ]
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When Obi-Wan calls out to him, he pauses in his work, walks over to the edge. Uneven ground, but it's familiar.]
I want to make sure the cannons are working.
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He nods and his attention turns to seek out those weapons with his own eyes. There hasn't been much time to explore this vessel, not even with all the time he's known Han now. ]
Does that mean you haven't taken the time necessary to eat?
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Just, his family got a hell of a lot bigger out of nowhere, and now it's a hell of a lot smaller just as suddenly, and he doesn't like it.]
Eating... What else have I been doing all year?
[He sounds a bit disgusted.]
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Well, that's not something that... you stop doing. Unless you're planning to hibernate, which I sincerely suggest you avoid.
[ I mean, if he's this grumpy now, imagine after waking up from a nap like that. ]
Could you use some assistance, then? I'm finding myself restless and I could use something to put my mind to.
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But that's hardly a conversation he wants to have. He doesn't really want to have any conversation, but here they are.
After a moment, somewhat less than certain, he nods.]
You know anything about weapons systems?
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[ And then, thoughtfully, he tips his head and shrugs a little. Mechanics aren't outside his scope, he just doesn't prefer to drown himself in them like some people. Like many people he knows personally. ]
It really depends on what shape the systems are in. What sort of challenges are we looking to overcome? I'll see what I can do about it.
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[Shrugging, he steps gingerly to the edge of the ship and lets himself down, using a crate as a stepping stone. Obi-Wan isn't going to like this bit, he thinks. The smart thing might not be to mention it, but somehow he gets the sense things would only be worse in the end if he didn't declare his intentions.]
I figure if we can get the laser cannons into shape, I can make sure no one ever gets stuck back there again.
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Following the other man's direction, he begins seeking out the appropriate panel release. ]
You're thinking of eliminating the outpost altogether?
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It's not going to bring Leia back, or his children. Maybe they're better off at home.]
I dunno.
[Not even a good lie. He's restless. He has to do something.]
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I would... request you don't act too rashly. If only for your own sake, Han. It's very easy to lose yourself to something like that, particularly when you feel as if there's nothing left to lose...
[ Maybe not what Solo wants to hear, but it's something Kenobi knows is an important reminder easily forgotten. ]
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But what are we supposed to do? Just... leave this going on?
[Let other people be left to wither away at the endless party?]
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So far, it's been by luck--and maybe a little deliberate swaying of circumstances--to avoid his son-in--no, another day--Han for so long, since their last horribly foreshadowing discussion and even somehow in the wake of all his fights with his daughter.
He considers for a moment, stuck halfway underneath his transporter as he is, to get up and leave, and spare them both this inevitably awkward-at-best talk. But there's enough up in the air: enough worry, enough agitation, enough impatience, that against better judgment, he slides out from underneath the craft and initiates instead.]
Keep pacing like that, and you're like to wear a hole through her, you know.
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Here they are-- two men who've lost the children they never knew they had. The thought leaves a sour taste in the back of his mouth, one he tries to banish by taking the easier topic offered.]
She's stronger than she looks,
[There's a particular fondness in his tone, the sort that can only be applied to a ship everyone else thinks is a hunk of debris.]
I don't think she collected too much rust while we were... away.
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He laughs in a quiet huff. It's short and relatively bereft of mirth, but it's a far cry from really digging into the well of everything he feels, which--Padmé aside--is not like laughing at all.]
How can you even tell?
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[There's a reflexive haughtiness to his tone, but it's light enough not to mean much. The Falcon is his livelihood, his most prized possession-- more often than not, his home. It's overstating things a bit to say he knows every scratch, every fleck of oxidation, but he comes pretty damn close. This ship was old before either of them were born, after all-- a little wear and tear is inevitable, but he tries to keep things in order where it counts.]
Wish I'd had the sense to stay with the ship.
[He can't shake the feeling that maybe if they hadn't all gotten carried away, maybe people wouldn't just have vanished like that-- it doesn't matter how many people try to assure him it's not that simple. At least he wouldn't have gone on as though nothing had happened.]
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[It's an unfortunate truth, one he's still trying to wrap his own head around, but if he had to waste a full year of his life, a concept less and less abhorrent the longer they spend out here and away from home, he could think of far worse ways to wile the time away.]
Being here wouldn't have-- [saved anyone] --changed anything. Except maybe for mitigating your rust collection.
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[Or maybe not. Everyone seems to be wandering around like they're a little lost. Still, he's gonna grumble. He can't help but think-- maybe at least he'd know when the last time he saw his family was.
Hell. He can't say that to Anakin, obviously. Loath as he is to admit it, they're his family, too. They can't talk about Leia without that fact coming up, and he's not willing to test this uneasy truce so heavily, not just yet. He allows himself a quiet sigh; pausing his work means letting his weariness catch up with him.]
You'd think wasting a year would leave us feeling refreshed, at least.
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[He says it, and however true, it suddenly sounds crass when he hears it. (Granted, the implication could be, but that's not why they're talking. It certainly isn't the thing they're blatantly avoiding. But they seem careless all the same.) Anakin grimaces but doesn't make a move to correct himself.
It isn't wholly untrue, for as callous as it feels out in the open.]
But I doubt scraping at rust is bound to make anyone feel better.
[It's an attempt. A small one, perhaps, but an opening all the same.]
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[The admission comes, far less sarcastic than he means it to sound, too fast for him to realize what a vulnerable statement it really is. Han is at loose ends right now-- the Falcon, at least, is still with him.]
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Look, it's a big hurdle to get over.]
I dunno.
[It's a pretty lousy peace offering, isn't it.]
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It's something. Especially when he can see that flash of grim agitation he's used to associating with his daughter in particular.]
Probably not. [The laugh that follows is clipped, and not quite like a laugh at all. There's little humour in it, and what's left is barbed. Who would have thought this far away from a battlefield that it's gallows humor that they rely on now?] And I doubt you need any help beating up on your ship. And I don't envy you having to explain that to Rey later.
[If anything, he's thankful to not be the one on the other end of that glare, thank you.] But if you need-- [to talk--we should talk about this] --if you need anything, I'm happy to help.
[He doesn't want to do this. Doesn't like the catch in his throat, or how his heart drops every time he thinks about it. But they are, after a fashion, family, aren't they? It's...something.]
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(But it is, too. He can't just forget it.)
The same thought, though, has struck him-- for worse or better they are family. He doesn't even have the luxury of pretending it doesn't matter; not after meeting his son, who so clearly strives to emulate Vader's awful example. At home, perhaps, it will be a shadow they can't cast off. Here, he's trying to convince himself it may as well be different. If he could find it in himself, if only for a day, to treat Ben as his son rather than his murderer, surely he ought to do the same for Leia's father. Even if she never quite got there herself.]
Sure, [he answers, a little weakly. It's all theoretical, anyway. There's nothing that can be done to help. Rallying a little, decisively, he nods.] Likewise.