Atton Rand & miscellaneous names (
suitably_heroic) wrote2015-02-07 12:00 pm
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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 ]]
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 ]]
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Sparkle kind of wished it had been.
Sparkle wasn't generally the 'wishing out loud' sort, though. Which wasn't going to do him a hell of a lot of good today.
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He snagged his bottle of soda and took a quick sip. "This is just a little pain, that's nothing new, it'll go. Wouldn't recommend the Sith hallucinations, though."
At all. Nobody deserved to be stuck in Atton's head, not even... well, Atton. He'd have happily traded out that part for the pain.
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He sat quietly for a moment, looking at the saber parts, and then at Atton, and then toward the timer in the kitchen that wasn't going to be going off for a while, yet. And then he shrugged his shoulders.
"Then, hey, good thing it wasn't all for nothing or anything like that? I mean, looks like you still got your ass kicked. But I guess you got your ass kicked for a good cause."
Or... something. Sparkle was bad at this.
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"Yeah," Atton said. He set the soda bottle back down on the floor. "Just have to take it easy for a while. Asshole broke my nose, probably a couple of my ribs..."
He was also going to avoid that whole exploding part.
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At all.
Ever.
"Jesus, man. You need those ribs. I don't care how much you think you don't. They do important things like keep your lungs inside."
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... There were reasons Atton tried to avoid sharing too many details about any of his missions with the Jedi.
He pulled a face. "Hey, it's not like I went up to the terentatek and said, 'hey, you mind breaking my ribs, I'm sick of them'."
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... That was probably a pretty good call.
"Yeah, well." Sparkle wrinkled his nose all the same. "Still sucks. No more getting mauled by terantatoes or whatever. New rule."
He was pretty sure it was a damn good rule, too.
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"If it helps, they tend to come out when the dark siders are strong," Atton offered. "So the population should be heading down soon enough."
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"Yeah? More you take out, the less tomatillos there are?"
Now he was getting the name wrong on purpose.
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'Giant rhinos' was the best he could come up with, because the actual thing would probably scare the hell out of Sparkle.
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Sparkle was actually kind of trying to understand, here. Much as he freaked out about it, he did actually care.
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"I'm not the biggest Sith historian in the galaxy," he said. "But I figure the Terentateks are probably a product of Sith alchemy. The ancient Sith really liked to mess with the biology of everything around them. Tweak a few things here, suffuse a species with the dark side, and ta-da - slave species that'll be rabid against your enemies long after you're dead. Makes sure you can be a pain in the ass for centuries yet."
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Now you were confusing the boy, Atton.
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Toronto kid.
"But there's headway being made there anyway? Less dark side stuff all around, so you could, like, use the big stompy tarantulas as a gauge almost, if it didn't involve getting your ribs smashed up."
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Because Korriban. It messed with your head even if you weren't an ex-soldier with a dark side past.
"We'll probably be mopping up some stragglers of Dark Jedi over the next while, like the guy we ran into here," he said. "But what we did last summer cut the head off of that one. At least, that was the idea. If it's not true, I'm going to be really annoyed."
Things out in the Unknown Regions, apparently. Better not be Sith.
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It was easy to announce that he would be so pissed, really. He was never gonna be a Jedi. It wasn't going to ever be his problem.
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Atton let out a snort. "Yeah, me too, kid," he said. "But hey, food."
It was halfway through getting up to go collect said food that he remembered getting up was a bad idea, and he wound up grabbing the arm of a nearby chair to keep himself upright all the way... well, up.
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"I was going to go get that, you know." What with the whole not being mutilated thing Sparkle had going for him, and all. "Sit your ass back down, I'll bring it out."
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See? Walking to the kitchen went more or less all right.
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"Suit yourself," he sighed, shoving a plate at him. "But if you hurt yourself worse I'm filling your whole apartment with cats."
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Case in point, Atton being on his feet. In the kitchen. Right now.
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Really, it wasn't as though there couldn't be a smartass making Atton's pizza every day. At least until Sparkle graduated. So.
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