suitably_heroic | MCA #4, Monday Evening

Current Music: 'The Good Life', Anouk

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MCA #4, Monday Evening

Atton had woken up that morning with only a passable idea of what had happened the previous night; there'd been five full bottles of juma in his fridge, no food anywhere, and an overly enthusiastic message from Skywalker confirming drinking plans Atton had no memory of proposing to the guy. He'd decided the wise thing to do was to get back into bed and maybe not get out of it until he stopped feeling completely miserable on every level.

By five PM, he'd given up on that, and ordered pizza.

By eight PM, he'd opened the second bottle of juma and he was waiting, patiently, for the inevitable dramatic knock/sweep into the room combo that generally heralded Skywalker arriving just about anywhere.

[[ expecting anakin, but open before he arrives! ]]

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Anakin shrugged. "Why don't you tell me instead."

"She's dead," Atton said flatly. "It's been a year since she bailed on me and got herself killed, and Mical wants us to sit around and tell campfire stories about her."

Anakin filled his own glass. "You don't want to hear other people's memories?"

"The ones I have hound me enough," Atton said. "Why would I want more of them?"

He drank entirely too much from his glass in one go.

"Because you love her," Anakin said, "and other people remember her well."

"I never said that."

Atton took another sip of his drink.

And y'know, he wasn't lying. He'd never said that. That didn't mean it wasn't true, but still.

Anakin gave him a look. "You didn't have to."

"Yeah, well, you're a lot better at punching people in the face than reading them."

Maybe he was just being contrary because he could. It was Atton, after all.

"I'm better at punching people," he agreed, "but it doesn't mean I missed this."

Atton let out a groan and collapsed back into his seat. He fumbled for a minute with his jacket until he found his cigarettes, and put one between his lips and lit it.

He needed that before he dealt with this. Maybe he should've thought ahead. It was Skywalker, after all.

"Take your time," Anakin said with a little smile. "I'm a Jedi but I'm not that stupid."

"Yeah, you are," Atton muttered. He took a long drag of his cigarette and exhaled. "A big, dumb pain in my ass."

That he'd invited over here himself to talk to. Details.

"Yeah, yeah, I hate you too," Anakin said, sounding bored.

"I just don't... see the point," Atton said. "About. Stuff."

Beat.

"Ugh."

"You mean using words about feelings?" Anakin said, smiling. "Yeah, me either. It hurts like hell."

"You know, I don't particularly miss being part of the Sith, but sometimes I miss the cold," Atton said.

He took a sip of his drink. "The emotional cold, that is."

Anakin nodded. "Or being encouraged to just block everything out with rage. Not healthy, but useful..."

Atton shrugged a little. "It was gradual on the way in, I don't know about yours," he said. "Something would hurt, so you'd go a little more numb, and then when the next thing hurt harder, it wasn't so bad."

Anakin shrugged. "I didn't get numb, I got angry. And there's the whole catechism about fear leading to anger and anger to hate..."

"Yeah, yeah, save me the Jedi talk," Atton said, waving his hand. "Anger was just a tool for me. Like everything, until that Jedi who convinced me to leave the Sith broke into my head."

Anakin nodded. "I'd grown up a human slave in a sector the Republic clearly and obviously didn't give a poodoo about," he said, juma making him more forthright than normal. "I was born angry at the injustice of the galaxy, especially when it was directed at me. I was an unstable blaster pack waiting to be fired and explode."

"Well, like I told you before, my thing was always pain," Atton said, staring into his glass. "There was a lot of that to go around, back in the Mandalorian Wars. The anger I felt towards the Jedi was a consequence of that. But like I said, the numbness came gradually. Then that Jedi got into my head and snapped it away and, well... you're lucky you couldn't sense anything real off me when I came here, I can tell you that."

"You are uncommonly gifted at keeping people out," Anakin admitted. "My grandson can play dead in the Force, which is completely creepy, but your white noise is just as effective."

"There were high-ranking Sith Lords who at times didn't even know I was there, back when I was with Revan's empire," Atton said. The corner of his mouth curled up.

Anakin smiled back. "Subtlety wasn't really my thing."

Go figure.

"I was the enforcer sent in when someone had screwed up badly and an example had to be made. The Hands were used for more delicate work."

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