[My lightsaber echoes back in a way it likely still shouldn't, but if any of these things he's left behind in this whole lifetime he knows nothing of, this, he thinks, is the kind of legacy he'd like to leave behind. One that remembers a time before everything went to hell. One that remembers him the only way he knows himself.
It's a connection he'd have begged for once, some sense of belonging when all he'd had was his mother and a dust ball of a planet to look forward to. It's a legacy that makes sense, not one that still continues to baffle and frustrate, no matter how many times he asks why. The why isn't necessary here. He knows what the lightsaber entails.
But good, nothing else is missing. It's a good start.]
Do you know where he keeps them?
[He knows Watto used to keep things he needed in sight but out of reach, and while a sight "nicer" than many of the slavers here, the pleasure in that kind of control never changes. He wouldn't be too surprised if the slimeball did the same thing here.]
no subject
It's a connection he'd have begged for once, some sense of belonging when all he'd had was his mother and a dust ball of a planet to look forward to. It's a legacy that makes sense, not one that still continues to baffle and frustrate, no matter how many times he asks why. The why isn't necessary here. He knows what the lightsaber entails.
But good, nothing else is missing. It's a good start.]
Do you know where he keeps them?
[He knows Watto used to keep things he needed in sight but out of reach, and while a sight "nicer" than many of the slavers here, the pleasure in that kind of control never changes. He wouldn't be too surprised if the slimeball did the same thing here.]