Obi-Wan squinted up at the new guy - and then maybe did an appreciative double-take because being taken didn't mean he was dead. And then the guy talked. "Do I look like somebody's Master? Qui-Gon isn't here."
"Those two things have nothing to do with each other," Obi-Wan said. "At least not in my family."
Some days day drinking was just the only way to get through.
"... Did you come here for Qui-Gon's stash of weed? Is that it? Because he doesn't go here anymore." Actually, that'd make that sense. "...Wherever the fuck here is."
"Personally, I always thought you had homing devices installed," Anakin said. "You threw off your robe dramatically at every duel and never seemed to run out of them."
"Language, Master," he teased, grinning from the doorway.
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Yet, at least, depending on how this went.
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Some days day drinking was just the only way to get through.
"... Did you come here for Qui-Gon's stash of weed? Is that it? Because he doesn't go here anymore." Actually, that'd make that sense. "...Wherever the fuck here is."
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"This is Fandom," Anakin said. "And this is the shack you chose to live in instead a real place with insulation and windows that work."
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"Am I on Perkium again?" he inquired, "Because that would explain why my entire wardrobe is beige and off-white. Where the fuck are my leather pants?"
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"You have leather pants?" he asked, sounding strangled.
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