Grakk's Diner, Near The Jedi Temple, Coruscant, Tuesday Morning

[suitably_heroic]

It'd been a decent couple of days - training Sparkle, avoiding Brianna, finding new places to leave rude things scribbled on the walls of the Temple that Mical probably wouldn't find out about until he was fifty - but all decent things had to end. For one thing, most of Atton's stuff was on the island, and for the other, he didn't actually want to miss the couple of quiet days there before the next term.

Why squander a perfectly good place without people he hated?

"All right, portal leaves in two hours," Atton said, pushing open the door to a charming local diner that screamed GRAKK in offensively neon-and-glittery words from the rooftop. Inside, a plethora of people of various species were hovering or sitting in their seats, but there were still a couple of booths open, including one facing right across from the diner's four-armed cook, so hey, Atton would sit down right there.

"Stick to the blue part of the menu," he said, "The white part's living food. Yellow's not for humans, and red... let's just not talk about the red."

[[ for sparks! ]]

Comments

[suitably_heroic]

Atton listened to him go, and when he was finished, he just said, "See? Do that."

He shrugged. "Don't think of it as some weird thing you do," he said. "Just do it. Think about the differences when you're here, try to pick up the background chatter when you're back home..."

[myownface]

"Pay attention," Sparkle supplied, nodding. "Just... more than I used to."

It wasn't quite so simplistic as that, maybe, but it was the easiest way he had to put it into words. He looked around the room quietly, and tried to put a finger on just what that aesthetic difference was. Things were darker, maybe? Angles and curves went in different places than he'd expect them to be?

He tried to listen in on a nearby conversation, and didn't tune it out again even after he realized he had no idea what language was being spoken.

"Yeah, I can do this."

[suitably_heroic]

"Like I keep saying, the trick isn't to think on something real hard," Atton said, "Then they notice. But you keep your surface thoughts going like that, and they don't bother prying-- or they find it too irritating to poke their way in."

He pulled a face.

"Even Meetra did that from time to time," he said, "Mind tricks."

[myownface]

"Mind tricks," Sparkle echoed. "It's probably not a bad habit to get into anyway. Thinking more never hurt anyone, right? Even if ghosts or mind tricks or whatever were never a consideration, it's like... the more you notice, the more you can use."

[suitably_heroic]

"Exactly," Atton said, giving a little nod. "Though I don't doubt you've already got an eye for exits."

[myownface]

"My count in here is three, maybe four, but I can't see that far into the kitchen and that count doesn't include shit that needs to be broken first," Sparkle shared, his grin going a little wry. "That's one thing I was always good at, yeah. Don't walk into a place unless you've taken a moment to figure out a few ways to walk out again."

[suitably_heroic]

"Just for petty theft, or did you get up to a lot worse than that?" Atton asked, taking another sip of his juice-of-whatever-it-was.

[myownface]

"Oh, I killed a guy," Sparkle deadpanned, looking Atton in the eye. He didn't expect him to buy it for even a second, no. Honestly, who the hell would buy his tall tales, anyway?

Someday he'd meet somebody who did, and that poor sucker was going to get ragged on constantly.

"Just walked up to him and boom, blew his brains out. All over the floor."

He had killed people before, but nothing so irreverent as that. And did the psychos that had invaded the island a while back count, if they were threatening to turn you into sausage and eat your insides? He had a lot of horrifying experiences that he could chalk up to 'thanks, Fandom,' that he couldn't talk about back home.

He toyed with the rim of his glass for a moment, trying to see if he could get the cup to make that humming noise if he ran his finger over it just the right way.

"Would've, anyway. Wouldn't regret it if I did, either. I just don't like being locked up, okay? Not if the only way out is the one somebody else is holding the key to."

[suitably_heroic]

That humming noise thing alone-- yeah, Atton figured Sparkle would be a natural at the keeping his brain shut tight. As long as he put some effort into it, or rather a lack of it.

"You'd regret it," Atton said flatly.

[myownface]

"Not him."

Sparkle shook his head, and then shot Atton a grin that sat neatly somewhere between 'manic' and 'lazy.' Quite the combination, really.

"It's just survival of the fucking fittest, right? You survive. That's all it ever is, in the end. 'Right' and 'wrong' are all fucked up concepts anyway, and all it really comes down to is 'how do I stay alive until tomorrow?' And Lewis hates that, you know? That I'll break some guy's nose for going through my things or I drink too much or I break into people's homes just to run off with worthless shit, but it's all the same thing at the end of the day, just, the situation is different, or the scale."

[suitably_heroic]

Manic, lazy, a bit of both; Atton didn't much care. It was funny how little unnerved you after you'd gone toe to toe with a Sith Lord who'd been hoping to mutilate you into a copy of himself, and Sparkle was going to be the last person in the galaxy to manage it anyway.

One of the Twi'leks in the booth behind them looked a little disturbed, though.

"You'd regret it because it's killing someone, and it doesn't matter how nice your explanation sounds like in your head before you do it, it's going to be different," Atton drawled. "But I'll bite. You've argued with your Lewis about it, then?"

[myownface]

"I've argued with my Lewis about a lot of things," Sparkle replied, perking up a little as he finally got the glass to hum, looking for all the world like he wasn't engaged in this conversation at all, even as he continued to speak. "Stealing and fighting and running away, drugs, grades, starting fires, the colour of his shoes and why he shouldn't wear those socks, getting adopted or aging out, avoiding my parole officer when I'm in Toronto or whether it's okay to call the new girl fat or to tell the little kids that the Tooth Fairy steals teeth right out of your head if she shows up and there's nothing under the pillow. I've argued with him about the answers on Jeopardy and what goes into dinner when it's my night to cook and if it's too hot out to push a lawnmower or too cold out to shovel the sidewalk or salt the driveway or walk to school, and then why I skipped school that day anyway or mouthed the teacher off or kicked the shit out of some kid behind the smokers' shed. I argue with Lewis about everything, and most of it is stupid shit that doesn't matter, and then he'll have this long speech ready about how things are going to get better and I don't want to be one of those kids like everyone expects me to be and I'll tell him to go fuck himself and get kicked out of his office and we don't talk sometimes for days but we always make up anyway."

And then Lewis looked at him and smiled and everything was okay again, and Sparkle looked back and sometimes forgot what the arguments were about.

"So it doesn't matter."

[suitably_heroic]

Atton experienced that feeling he'd felt around Sparkle once or twice - that sudden need to chuck something at the kid's head because he was being both unbearably cotton candy-level infatuated and completely stupidly unhealthy at the same time.

(He always reeled it in, partly because it wasn't his business, partly because he wasn't exactly the one to talk.)

"Sounds like that list does keep getting bigger," he mused instead, neutrally.

[myownface]

"Sometimes I sit around just thinking up new ways to piss him off," Sparkle shared, glancing up at Atton again. "Doesn't make much difference, it always works out the same way, anyway."

He took a moment and drank down half the contents of his cup, and then, upon setting it down again, went right back to work trying to see what difference it would make if he could get it to hum again.

"But he doesn't know I've killed people. Even if it's just Fandom shit or whatever. I shot a few psychos who were coming after me when those developers started digging up the island. One of them killed Alec and I went fucking ballistic and kept shooting until they stopped moving. I tore Sholeh's throat out with my teeth, once. I regret that one. She didn't talk to me for... shit, almost a year. I don't blame her. I wouldn't talk to me, either. It's not like I can't do it. It sucks every fucking time, but I can."

[suitably_heroic]

"Fandom's not really real, though, is it?" Atton mused. "I mean, back during that thing with those Hyperion guys, everyone kept jumping back to life. Sholeh came back to life."

He drained his glass.

"And even then, it's not whether you can do it that does it. Whether you will, and how you'll feel afterwards, those are bigger questions."

[myownface]

"Fandom's not real," Sparkle echoed. "Doesn't mean it hurts any less when something kills you, or you're any less thirsty when some vampire bitch corners you and drains you empty and forces her blood down your throat. It's like some kind of fucking dream, and everything ugly goes away every single time, but it still feels real enough when it happens, doesn't it? Or else you wouldn't have been so pissed off when you met Boo, either."

He stopped playing with the rim of his glass. Now he was chewing on the end of his finger. His nails were too neatly trimmed for there to be anything there for him to nip at, and he was entirely too fastidious about them to bite them anyway. But that didn't mean he wasn't going to bite at his skin, instead.

"I'm not going to like go back to Toronto and hunt anybody down, if that's what you're worried about. Not even if it was a fucking option anymore. But sometimes you look around at everything and you think about what got you to here and sometimes there's that maybe. Everyone gets that maybe, right?"

[suitably_heroic]

"Everyone gets maybe, I won't argue with you about that," Atton said. "But maybe in return you'll do me the courtesy of not arguing with me on something I know a lot more about than you do."

He didn't sound combative, oddly enough. Just tired.

"It feels real, sure. And I'm not any happier seeing some ghost take you for a test drive for a week than I'd be if it was permanent. But don't think it's the same as looking back and realizing there's actually fewer people in the galaxy because of you."

[myownface]

Sparkle was quiet, dead quiet, for what was probably a full half-minute before replying again.

He hated, hated, hearing Atton sound that way. Hated even more that he was the reason he did. It took him about that long to come up with a reply that wasn't knee-jerk argumentative, though. Sparkle didn't handle 'guilty' well.

"There are people who do it all the time and who don't feel sorry about it, aren't there? Hell, there are people who revel in it. Why are they so different?"

It wasn't an argument. It was an honest question. And maybe a bit of tired was sneaking into Sparkle's own voice, too.

He masked it as boredom well.

[suitably_heroic]

"Oh, I didn't give two pounds of bantha poodoo about killing people, once," Atton said. "And if they were Jedi, you're damned right I enjoyed it."

Don't mind if he took the volume down a notch. Never knew who was listening. He still sounded bored, though.

"Of course, before that, I was just some stupid, scared kid who let both of his best friends get killed before I worked up the guts to shoot someone," he said mildly. "But you do it enough times, you wind up shutting down the part of your head that sees people as people. Suddenly it's just collection of body parts. Maybe a collection of body parts you really hate, sure, but still."

[myownface]

Sparkle was quiet again, remembering how fucking terrified he'd been as the psychos closed in on himself and on Alec, and then, afterwards, the way he'd clung to Alec (and kicked him for dying, that asshole) and yelled at him and laughed hysterically and cried.

And those things had barely had any humanity left in them in the first place.

"Easier to say you'd do it and wouldn't care, I guess," he allowed, sighing and closing his eyes. "The world is better off without some people, but, ha, I am so fucking not the person to be getting rid of them. People are just... still... too people to be reduced to people-parts. Even the ones I hate. I dunno."

[suitably_heroic]

"Stick with that thought," Atton advised. "It's better that way."

At least then you wouldn't hit Atton's level of existential confusion on the matter.

He was glad to be interrupted by the droid bringing in their orders, anyway. Eugh, heart-to-hearts.

[myownface]

Sparkle was mostly just sort of surprised by it. He'd gotten so invested in the conversation (and in making his glass make noises) that he'd almost forgotten he had a soup and sandwich on the way.

"Oh yeah. Sandwich."

With nerf in it, which was good, since he knew he liked nerf, and cheese soup, which... you could probably dip a nerf sandwich in, and if you couldn't, he'd find out quickly enough.

"What'd you get?"

This was much easier conversation than casually discussing the ethics and emotional repercussions of murder, go figure.

[suitably_heroic]

"The sliders," Atton said casually. "I've been getting them every day since we moved to Coruscant. They're pretty good."

And pretty predictable, which worked for him.

"I think I'll survive Coruscant, even if it's not Nar Shaddaa."

See, this conversational segue was 100% casual and a co-production to boot.

[myownface]

"I liked Nar Shaddaa," Sparkle volunteered, reaching for a spoon and idly mucking in his soup for a moment. Yep. It was absolutely soup. "I mean, it smelled, a bit. But it was fun."

Fun, and slightly pre-Atton-the-Jedi. Ah well.

"Those can't be all you're eating, man. Am I going to have to start shipping you vegetables through Portalocity whenever you're out here without me?"

[suitably_heroic]

Atton wasn't a damned Jedi, all right?

And some days when that one got pressed hard enough, he was tempted to go back to Nar Shaddaa and vanish into the crowd like he used to.

"I'm still upright and moving, aren't I?" Atton retorted. "Space, I'm not going to fall over just because I don't eat green things."