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suitably_heroicAtton had hit his limit.
Sometime last night, as he was belting out 'Chandelier' to a largely empty bar while Cara rolled around the duck pond with her girlfriend, something had just cracked. That something had let to sitting mostly-drunk on the Causeway at one in the morning, waiting for a portal, and now it had resulted in a hungover Atton waking up in some abandoned arm of the Jedi Temple.
Not on purpose, mind you. The only reason he was awake was the blond asshole staring down at him.
"Atton...?"
"Ugh," Atton muttered, "Go away."
"I hadn't thought you'd come back this soon," Mical said mildly. "I would have planned in Atris's trial had I known, considering how eager you seem to be to keep putting it off."
"I'm not." Atton righted himself. If Mical could stop talking, he could go into a healing trance and fix some of this crap in his head. "You know how I feel about the whole thing. I don't really need to be there."
Lock her up, throw away the key, or get her some counseling if they were feeling generous. Out in the wild, that woman was a time bomb waiting to go off.
"Yes, you do."
"I'm not even a Jedi," Atton pointed out, rubbing his head.
"You're on the Council now," Mical said. "Officially. That's as close to an official Jedi as one can get, I'd say."
Ugh. Bastard. Atton squinted up at him. "That's just paperwork."
Mical squatted down beside him with a sigh. Really, Atton? Were they still going to argue about this now? "If you are not a Jedi, then what are you, to keep coming to us like this?"
"An idiot and a little shit with no direction in life?" Atton offered. He shook his head. "I have no idea, Mical. All right? I don't know. I don't know why I'm here, I don't know why I'm there, especially after this week, and I sure as hells don't know who I am, so lay off it already."
"Atton," Mical said. He rubbed his forehead. "I can tell you what you are, if nothing else."
Ugh. Ugh. Ugh. Atton let out a little groan. Also because Mical was talking near his head too much. "Yeah? What's that?" he asked dryly.
"A Knight of the Republic," Mical said simply. "...Who also happens to be an idiot and a little shit." He stretched back up and offered Atton a hand. "Come with me."
Yeah, he wasn't going to be taking that hand, but Atton did at least get up with some difficulty. "Why?" he said. "Are we doing some weird spiritual brain-awakening walk or something? Because let me tell you, if you're trying to fix what's in my head, you of all people are heavily underqualified."
Was that Mical rolling his eyes? Damn, it really was. "No," he said, with the kind of patience a person had when they were about to run out, "but Mira came back, and I thought you might like to see her."
Well, now he felt like an idiot for sure. "Oh," Atton said. "...Well, okay then."
[[ nfb, nfi, in which atton continues to be not entirely okay but it's okay, somehow ]]
Sometime last night, as he was belting out 'Chandelier' to a largely empty bar while Cara rolled around the duck pond with her girlfriend, something had just cracked. That something had let to sitting mostly-drunk on the Causeway at one in the morning, waiting for a portal, and now it had resulted in a hungover Atton waking up in some abandoned arm of the Jedi Temple.
Not on purpose, mind you. The only reason he was awake was the blond asshole staring down at him.
"Atton...?"
"Ugh," Atton muttered, "Go away."
"I hadn't thought you'd come back this soon," Mical said mildly. "I would have planned in Atris's trial had I known, considering how eager you seem to be to keep putting it off."
"I'm not." Atton righted himself. If Mical could stop talking, he could go into a healing trance and fix some of this crap in his head. "You know how I feel about the whole thing. I don't really need to be there."
Lock her up, throw away the key, or get her some counseling if they were feeling generous. Out in the wild, that woman was a time bomb waiting to go off.
"Yes, you do."
"I'm not even a Jedi," Atton pointed out, rubbing his head.
"You're on the Council now," Mical said. "Officially. That's as close to an official Jedi as one can get, I'd say."
Ugh. Bastard. Atton squinted up at him. "That's just paperwork."
Mical squatted down beside him with a sigh. Really, Atton? Were they still going to argue about this now? "If you are not a Jedi, then what are you, to keep coming to us like this?"
"An idiot and a little shit with no direction in life?" Atton offered. He shook his head. "I have no idea, Mical. All right? I don't know. I don't know why I'm here, I don't know why I'm there, especially after this week, and I sure as hells don't know who I am, so lay off it already."
"Atton," Mical said. He rubbed his forehead. "I can tell you what you are, if nothing else."
Ugh. Ugh. Ugh. Atton let out a little groan. Also because Mical was talking near his head too much. "Yeah? What's that?" he asked dryly.
"A Knight of the Republic," Mical said simply. "...Who also happens to be an idiot and a little shit." He stretched back up and offered Atton a hand. "Come with me."
Yeah, he wasn't going to be taking that hand, but Atton did at least get up with some difficulty. "Why?" he said. "Are we doing some weird spiritual brain-awakening walk or something? Because let me tell you, if you're trying to fix what's in my head, you of all people are heavily underqualified."
Was that Mical rolling his eyes? Damn, it really was. "No," he said, with the kind of patience a person had when they were about to run out, "but Mira came back, and I thought you might like to see her."
Well, now he felt like an idiot for sure. "Oh," Atton said. "...Well, okay then."
[[ nfb, nfi, in which atton continues to be not entirely okay but it's okay, somehow ]]
