MCA #4, Saturday Afternoon

There was music screaming across Atton's apartment again, for the first time in about a week. He was here much sooner than Mical would have liked, but he couldn't stand hanging around the Temple any longer, and the kolto had healed up the worst of his chest injuries. What was left now was the enduring-- bruised face, bruised insides, and moving hurt, but that wasn't new.

For the sake of not aggravating his injuries, he'd sat down on a pillow on the floor. That was the only concession he was making. He had a job to do, here: rebuild his lightsaber. Maybe build one that suited him better. He'd been running around with a loaner for too long.

Besides, if he had to stay in, he might as well work on his finer Force control.

He let the various segments levitate into the air, taking care to spend some time on each one. It was... more complicated than he'd planned. But that was good. Stretching his legs, so to speak.

He grabbed the bottle by his side and took a long gulp, letting the fizz settle in his stomach. No alcohol for him any time soon, it'd dull the senses. But a sugar rush? That would keep pushing him on.

Besides. It was harder to think when you had sugar screaming through your system and something physical to focus that energy on. It shut out most of whatever this past week had dredged up, except for one thing:

Her face. There is another war waiting, in the Unknown Regions.

Maybe Brianna was right. Maybe he was kidding himself out here, pretending to have a normal life.

[[ door shut, post open for messages or visits or what have you ]]