open !

[straightouttacarbonite]

Who:Han Solo and YOUR FACE
When: throughout the month of May
Where: aboard the Moira unless otherwise noted
What: for all your miscellaneous threading needs! will probably post some specific starters, but feel free to hit him up with basically anything.
Warnings: currently n/a; will warn in threads / update as needed

Though going home is Han's number one priority, he's not sure a temporary trip (if that's even for real) is worth the risk. So while he'll get into his share of trouble, he's sticking around on the Moira a fair amount. Plenty to do.

He keeps up with his work running one of the transporters as needed, and can frequently be found between trips on the flight deck. Sometimes he's poking at his shuttle of choice, but just as often he can be found in or around the Millennium Falcon. Loath as he was to risk spreading whatever contamination they've all contracted onto his pride and joy, there's only so much waiting a man can take. (Play your cards right and maybe you'll get a tour, he likes to show off.)

The mess hall, the bar, and the cafe are all frequent enough haunts. Hell of a lot better than being stuck for months with instant caf and freeze-dried rations. As far as space travel goes, this is straight up luxury.

Otherwise, he'll be around, here and there.

---

[ closed starters below! ]

Comments

closed : obi-wan kenobi

[straightouttacarbonite]

[Life in this foreign galaxy is full of surprises, and it ranks pretty high among them that Ben Kenobi actually used to be a pretty fun guy. Based on their brief acquaintance back home, Han never would have guessed it. It's the kind of thing that makes you wonder what could have happened in the intervening years, except that he generally tries not to think too hard on all those intervening years.

Now and then, though, a little seriousness can't be avoided. Han has been thinking on all this business about attachments and the Jedi order, and he's come to the conclusion that it's not his business. But that's never stopped him before.

The message he sends Ben to ask if he wants to grab a drink doesn't mention any of that. And, hey, there's plenty of easy stuff to chat about. The ship. Races. The likelihood that whatever is on the planet below is going to turn out disastrous. Nothing unusual here. Whenever the Jedi shows up he'll find Han seated casually as ever, having taken the liberty of getting them two glasses and a bottle.]

[jedimindtrick]

[ Obi-Wan does owe Han a drink, although he doesn't get the impression that Solo's calling that in. This feels like a much less ad hoc — as if it might as well be spontaneous.

He arrives to find the pilot already waiting and he wastes no time in taking a seat with him. ]

Your invitation couldn't have come at a better time — I needed a convenient exit from a rather... unpleasant conversation. I'll spare you the finer details, but I suggest you avoid the sour soup.

[ It's true enough that this version of Kenobi is a bit more fun than the man he's due to become in nineteen years (or less), but it certainly doesn't mean much, does it? People change all the time. Obi-Wan can't quite know how much he'll change, either. Even with the aid of the Force, he's not quite that adept at seeing the future.

Han seems to have a unique perspective over his eager companion. ]

What did you order us? [ And then, abruptly. ] You've been all right? [ And then, again, almost as if he's now concerned something could be amiss. ] How's Leia?

[ Now look what you've done, Solo. He might not ever shut up. ]

[straightouttacarbonite]

[Wow, Ben, slow down. Han doesn't budge from his lazy sprawl in his chair, though he does raise an eyebrow at the series of questions-- and the somewhat mysterious comment about soup. You can't just say something like that and not explain, buddy.]

I dunno what it is, but you need some of it, [he says decisively, filling their glasses. How are they going to find out what all these extragalactic drinks are without sampling them? It's reasonable logic.] I'm fine, we're fine. What's wrong with the soup?

[No rush to get to the tough questions. A few years ago (or a few in the future, depending on your point of view), Han might have agreed on the danger of forming attachments, though he would still have been skeptical of any attempt to forbid them. Here and now the whole thing seems ludicrous, in no small part because Kenobi himself seems to have his share, Jedi Order or no.]

Did you ever get that forward actuator fixed up?

[jedimindtrick]

[ This is, perhaps, a trap in some regard, as Obi-Wan finds himself with no expectations when it comes to Han. Their so-far easy companionship has reminded the Jedi Master of more than a few favored acquaintances (many of which shared company with Kenobi in much the same manner).

He's halfway through testing a taste of the drink, making an affirmative noise even before he has a chance to actually swallow down the alcohol. ] I did, yes. I doubt Anakin even noticed, but I feel a bit better about it, anyway.

[ Regarding the glass, he completely forgets to fill Solo in on the soup. Suffice to say, it's seems like no small thing, but perhaps the fact that it so easily slips Obi-Wan's memory suggests otherwise. He's more interested in the booze, which is a little bitter, but not entirely unpleasant. ]

That's your ship down in the hanger? The new one? I've heard it is.

tell me if this is ok ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[t65]

[When they enter into the portal, Luke isn't sure what he's expecting. Home, where is home specifically? He doesn't expect he'll ever see Tatooine again, and the parts of that planet that were home are long gone by now. So where will they end up?]

[The blast of freezing cold is certainly familiar. Luke's first thought is I'm not dressed for Hoth, and then Don't be silly, this can't be Hoth, but looking around at the snow, it most certainly is. If he strains his ears, he can just hear the whine of a tauntaun off in the distance.]

[Squinting against the icy wind, Luke can see the looming shape of some kind of structure in the distance. Surely you don't see mirages in the snow; that must be real. They've got to get there before they freeze.]

[He looks over to Han.] You- You alright?

perfect

[straightouttacarbonite]

[He had a bad feeling about all this, okay?

The whole notion of going home temporarily strikes Han as suspicious. Which is exactly why he's here. Left to his own devices he'd just as soon stay on the Moira and play cards, but if his friends are trying their luck, like hell is he going to leave them on their own, or-- worse-- with near-strangers looking after them. He can tag along. Luke going home, he figured, would mean Tatooine, and even if he's not eager to visit that ball of dust, he can go along for the ride.

Which means he's not dressed for Hoth, either.]

I'm fine. [Not so much through gritted teeth as chattering ones. He's fine, except he's freezing. He's already taking the first few stumbling steps toward whatever that is looming in the snowy distance. Come on, kid, he hasn't got a tauntaun this time.] I think we took a wrong turn.

[t65]

One of these days, [Luke says, following Han's lead with the shivering and stumbling toward civilization,] I'd like to take a right turn!

[So put him down for complaining about the weather as well.]

[Luke trudges behind Han as the wind whips around them, and the closer they get, the more obvious it is that the looming shadow in front of them is... are... black metal buildings? They go up storey upon storey; Luke's never seen a building so big.]

I think I'd remember that.

[straightouttacarbonite]

It's a-- city?

[A lot of his memories of Hoth are a blur of cold and annoyance about the cold, but yeah, that doesn't look familiar. Too big for Hoth, though Han isn't so impressed on principle. But they'd never have chosen a planet with that level of civilization for a base, and these buildings wouldn't look out of place back--

He falters a little bit, wary and unsure. The shape of the skyline looks more familiar than it ought to, considering where they are. (Where are they?) But it doesn't matter. Buildings like that must be heated if they're inhabited, and even if they aren't at least they'll give them some shelter from the wind. Squinting against the frozen wind, he forces himself to go a little faster. As if they could outrun frostbite.]

Wherever it is it's better than out here.

[It's got to be, right? Maybe it's his imagination, it seems like the wind is dying down just a little, the nearer they come to the towering buildings.]

1. I'm sorry 2. lmk if you need me to change anything 3. I'M SORRY

[outer_space]

One day she doesn't come back.

He let it happen, that's his first thought. It's the first thought in some time to cut through Kylo Ren's own preoccupations—he's plunged into the ingress whenever he can, sometimes with the mandated partner but more often alone and always returning too soon, exhausted from mending his lightsaber or head ringing with the Supreme Leader's voice. The Moira, the squabbling crew, even the taunt of the Millennium Falcon in the cargo bay—they've become a temporary delay before he returns to the world he belongs in.

These days, these days that blur like the stars before a hyperspace jump, he doesn't stray far from the ingress, and he wastes no time in getting there. Seeing no sign of their host, he takes the turbolift down to the portal. It's a brief but excruciating journey, his helplessness made manifest in the lethargic descent. He wants to snap every cable in the lift, every bone in the host's body. He's come to his senses: it's her fault, this woman who refuses to so much as give her name.

“Where is she?”

Near the edge of the platform the woman turns, her presence sharp and serene in the Force. Her expression, Kylo notices belatedly, is one of concern. She says, I apologize and experimental stages and easily remedied. With the Force at her throat, crushing her windpipe, she says nothing. Her face contorts.

<3! likewise, i hope this works for ya

[straightouttacarbonite]

One day Leia doesn't come back.

In spite of his misgivings Han has made a few jumps himself, with friends and with near-strangers. Halfway it's a matter of curiosity, mostly it's because this is a good way to get things they need aboard, things they want, without trusting to the whim of the Ingress. It's different for Leia, he knows, but it's not as though he can ask her not to go back. Not, he suspects, like she'd listen if he tried, though it worries him, the hold it has on her. The reasons make sense, but it's a little too much like watching an addict.

He's heading down to see if there's been any word of her, if the strange woman with her strange machines has anything to help, and instead he finds struggling against nothing, pinned by the wild look in Kylo Ren's eyes.

"The hell do you think you're doing?"

That tone must be familiar, not that Han has any idea. Either way, he doesn't give Kylo a chance to explain himself-- he can't pry the incorporeal hand from the woman's throat so Han does what seems like the next best thing and charges the man, intending to break his concentration and throw him off balance.

Unfortunately, he succeeds in throwing them both off balance, tipping over the edge as the woman catches her breath and looks on.

SORRY ABOUT YOUR SHIP DUDE

[outer_space]

It's as though he's felled by a voice, the shudder of memory and jolt in the Force and blow of Han's body hitting him as one. The air leaves his lungs and Kylo Ren gasps breathlessly, twists to take the fall on his side. His shoulder cracks against the platform, the glass faultless and the hurt rough.

They roll entangled into the ingress.

It spits him out on a ship. Kylo shoves the other man off, heedless of the pain that streaks through his arm. There's a door in front of him: his hands close into fists and for a moment he's still, pitched slightly forward like a man poised to scream. With an earsplitting screech, the metal slab's ripped loose from the frame, peeled off like the lid of a can.

Kylo erupts from the room, reaching automatically for a lightsaber he doesn't have. She isn't here. She isn't here and he's trapped, at the mercy of the ingress. He stalks down the narrow corridor, his steps clanging. The Force around him, the walls of the ship, they seem to tremble with rage.

With a snarl and a gesture he uproots the dejarik table. As he flings out an arm a box hurls across the room. It hits the wall and tools burst from it, rain to the floor. He throws another box, but it's not enough—nothing like metal melting beneath his lightsaber, the shower of hot sparks. He strides to the radio, tears out handfuls of wiring and what parts he can snap off in a frenzied scrabbling.

He slams a fist into the wall. And again. Clenches it harder when the pain comes. “I hope you're proud of yourself,” he snaps when he senses Han Solo nearing.

THIS WILL NEVER BE FORGIVEN ps I'm sorry 4 everything

[straightouttacarbonite]

The fall leaves him dazed, not so quick to spring back to his feet as Kylo Ren-- which might be for the best, because it means the young man's rage is visited on his surroundings rather than his unwilling companion.

And it's a surprise, when he rights himself, that he's laid out on a familiar floor. Maybe it makes sense, if this thing is supposed to take you home. If there's any place that is-- but he could swear he wasn't the one who fell through first. Maybe it's like Hoth, maybe they're on a course to wherever this lunatic comes from.

He doesn't know, and frankly doesn't care, because the shriek of durasteel being rent gets him on his feet real quick, and he chases after. It isn't real, he tells himself, because the Falcon is docked safely on the flight deck and no temperamental Sith is going to touch it, but still. He takes in the toppled gaming table and sparking array of wires, the new dents in old metal, the bunk in the main hold that he has never seen before (which stops him short for a moment, the first cue that something's wrong. It makes him doubt for just a moment that this is his ship-- there are hundreds of YT-1300s in service, easily, but it's his, he just knows her.

(Come to think of it, things look... Wrong. Not overall. Like two ships have been overlaid; parts are just right, the corridors, the walls, but here and there it seems more old and worn than it ought to.)

"Me?" Well, at least Kylo didn't take a swing at him. That's progress, right? Han is too indignant to be properly angry about the damage, fortunately. Don't worry, he'll get there. "You're gonna wreck the life support, stop that!"

The only thing worse than dying cold and alone in space is dying cold and alone in space because some idiot can't control his temper, as they say. (Yeah, no one says that, but they should.)

sorry this is so late!

[smoothaf]

Napoleon definitely wants to go back to his world, but not necessarily for good which is why this option works so well with him. He can go back and pick up whatever necessities he's missed and be back before he's ordered to report in. He has five more years before his life is his own again and even then things won't be the same as they'd now be aware of what he does. The Moira works so much better for him even with the odd happenings and the confusingly futuristic tech.

He asks Han to accompany him, partially out of amusement for their names and partially because someone he's at least acquainted with would be better if things went South. Thankfully there doesn't seem to be any trouble and the Ingress spits them out in 60's Rome almost like nothing has changed since he last saw it.

Well almost.

The people aren't just humans. Aliens of every shape and size walk around them. None of this could possibly have come from him so he glances at his companion.

"Is this what everyone looks like in your world?"

[straightouttacarbonite]

His misgivings about all this haven't disappeared, but Han grudgingly has to admit he's enjoyed his visits. He's not convinced they're strictly real-- walking from the wastes of Hoth into Coronet City is hard to explain as anything but a strange dream-- but the things he's brought back through this makeshift Ingress seem real enough.  So, sure, he accepts the invitation from the art dealer.  (It's a job, in his mind, that's nearly synonymous with art thief, but he's trying not to make any judgments.)  

"Well, yeah," he says, glancing around, a little surprised to see the variety of species represented.  A Rodian in a suit walks by, his huge, dark eyes half-concealed by a badly balanced pair of sunglasses; the tables outside a nearby cafe are filled with people of several species chatting quietly and smoking.  

"Clothes are a little weird.  Do you know where we are?"  Because he hasn't got a clue, this place doesn't look like any city he's ever seen.

[smoothaf]

"Rome, it's a city in Italy."

This isn't exactly his first pick in places to return to. There's the possibility of running into Illya or Gaby or if what he's been told about their visits is true then the Vinciguerra's are also a very real possibility. The presence of aliens species doesn't diminish Napoleon's worry.

He'll have to make this quick then. Money is no issue as he deftly pickpockets someone as he brushes past them. The real trick was making sure Han didn't notice. The precautions he takes are minor, pickpocketing someone on the other side of where he was and sliding the wallet out without bumping into them. It's the sort of thing that would only fool the inexperienced.

"If this place is as I remember it, I have a place I want to pick up a few things from and there's a liquor store nearby I want to check out."

[straightouttacarbonite]

"Never heard of it," he says unnecessarily, letting himself gawk a little.  Napoleon's in luck, it's distracting enough that he doesn't notice that-- not that he'd care.  Han has been doing the same at home, his rusty skills being more than sufficient for the crowded marketplace of Coronet City.  (Besides, there's no guarantee he won't be suspicious about where that money came from when they start spending it.) 

"Well, you're the one who knows where we're going," he says, nodding and waving expansively before them.  He's just here tagging along, keeping an eye out for opportunity.  Hey, maybe this would be a good place to find a gift for Leia-- Corellia might not have offered anything too exotic, but something from a galaxy far, far away would be nice, right?  

"What kinds of things can you get here?" 

a few hours after http://imahologram.dreamwidth.org/3114.html?thread=98602#cmt98602

[imahologram]

[Leia doesn't end up meditating that day. She sits next to Luke, who's doing his usual handstands, and fumes with her eyes squeezed shut until he tentatively asks if she wants to talk about it--and then she goes to the recreation room in search of some kind of exercise. After that argument, she needs to get all her furious energy out before she tries to talk to Han again.

It's not until after dinner that she wanders down to the cargo bay in search of him. In almost any other situation, she wouldn't assume that someone would be in the same place hours after they last spoke, but this is Han. When he's upset, the Falcon is the best possible place to escape to. Maybe he won't be down here, but she has the feeling it's the best place to start looking for him.]

Han?

[straightouttacarbonite]

[Trusting her feelings pays off. Han is sitting crosslegged on top of the Falcon, right where the mandibles meet the main body of the ship, with a small sensor array disassembled in front of him for no good reason. He needed something to do with his hands and there's always something to be done here, to fix or improve or just fuss with for the sake of fussing.

It comes as a surprise that she's the one to break the awkward silence and seek him out, but maybe it's for the best. He tightens a screw decisively, sets his tools down.]

Hey. Just-- gimme a minute.

[On second thought this isn't the conversation you want to have a few meters apart, so he scrambles to his feet and off to climb back down.]

[imahologram]

[Leia waits, letting the quiet between them settle as Han levies himself down the side of the ship. Now that she's here, she's not entirely sure where to start. They argue plenty, but this is the first time since the carbonite that it's been a complete blowout--and with all their experience trying to take each other's heads off with words alone, he's never said he's in love with her.]

How's the Falcon?

[In the same questionable condition as always, she's guessing, but it makes a decent conciliatory gesture, asking after it. And if there's a point buried in there--you have interests, too, Han, and they haven't threatened the state of their...whatever this is--so be it.]

fisto =/= kit fisto

[t65]

[Luke has kind of taken a corner of the cargo bay and made it his, what with the tool bench, the table, the half-finished droids, and now an oven. It's really very convenient this is near the Falcon. Luke would, just once, suggest it was the will of the Force, if not for how Han would scoff and roll his eyes.]

[Because of that, he's suggested it at least twice.]

[Today, he's working on a new project, given to him by a man named Deacon. He's not very far in the project, but there's a flimsi unfolded carefully in front of him detailing all the specifications for the model. He keeps checking that while he works, humming absent-mindedly to himself.]

[He doesn't see Han approach, but he hears him.] How's the Falcon? [Luke hasn't been inside yet; he's been too busy to sight-see.]

[straightouttacarbonite]

[Disinclined as he is to buy all their Force nonsense, the idea that the will of the Force is every damn Skywalker relative making his life difficult seems pretty plausible.

That doesn't mean he's going to stop rolling his eyes.]

Looks great. If we had real maps we'd be set.

[But even so, having his ship back has put Han in a pretty good mood. Relatively. Sooner or later he'll have to get Luke or Lando or someone to join him in an ill-advised attempt to see how fast and how far they can get, but that's trouble for another day.]

What're you building now?

[t65]

It's always something...

[Luke, halfway inside what will one day be the chassis of the droid he's working on, pops his head out.] Oh, someone on the crew gave me schematics for a droid they wanted built. [He shrugs in the direction of said schematics, lying on the floor. A half-assembled motivator has been placed on the edges, along with some spare screws, to keep it from blowing away.]

legitimate men on legitimate errands. 2 legit. 2 legit 2 quit.

[entrepreneurism]

After Han got back (safely) with the news that they could bring things back through the host's Ingress, the shadow of distrust began to diminish in the undeniably beaming light of opportunity. They may not have total control over where it takes them, but wherever they go, he's fairly certain that they could find something worth grabbing. It may be no guarantee that they'll get to keep it, but it's certainly worth a shot.

It is in this spirit, fully embracing the lingering recklessness that had fully defined their younger days, that a couple of noted scoundrels can be found by said questionable Ingress.

With a healthy bit of humor, Lando glances over with an arched brow and a smirk, "Any guesses on where we'll wind up?"

[straightouttacarbonite]

Bringing things back from Alderaan was a bit of a whim-- an attempt to save some small part of the doomed planet, spontaneous and hurried. When he ends up in Coronet City with Luke, they put a little more thought into things, and he's got a hold full of Corellian alcohol to show for his efforts. This is maybe the first trip he's making solely for gain, not just curiosity-- and Lando is just the traveling companion for it.

"No clue," he says, and though maybe he ought to be nervous he's grinning. It feels like an adventure, the kind of dumb thing they'd have done back when they were young and far less responsible. That kind of thrill has an appeal you don't grow out of.

"Who goes first?"

[entrepreneurism]

The fact that they have no idea where they'll wind up, what will be there, what they'll wind up going after or how they'll get it - all of that, maybe, should be concerning. Maybe. But it's not.

There's a loose, casual shrug in response as he teases, "Well, you're the one who's taken trips already."

Which is, naturally, why he follows that by jumping. It's one way to settle the matter.