WHO: Rikku {
chrysophilist}, The Shadow {
sable_cloak}, Galen Marek {
wasstarkiller}, Rua {
strongest_tool}, Luke Skywalker {
inheritsthesky} & Open
WHERE: The local scrapyard~!
WHEN: Backdated..ish? (Not sure about this.)
WARNINGS: Terrible similes :'D
SUMMARY: Anakin pokes around big piles of metal for relaxation and profit.
FORMAT: Either! I'll be posting the starter in paragraph form, but I'm fine with people
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Comments 21
The blonde girl had discovered the scrapyard during her first week in the City. She hadn't actually been looking for a place where she could salvage machina; it was just some kind of instinct that led her to that part of town. It was like she could just smell the gears and wires and circuits from a mile away. She had gone poking around a few times before today, but had never actually had time to really search around. Luckily, ( ... )
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And it was then that he remembered the metallic tubing under his durasteel arm. Dislodging it, he gave the coiled system of tubes a thoughtful once over.
"Part of a ventilation system, I think." He was about to ask why, but figured he'd find out sooner than not.
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"Nifty," she finally said with a nod, straightening and gesturing to the random bits of machina cradled in her left arm. "I've got a variety of stuff, myself. Pieces of an engine for something, and some coils from a... another something. But I'm gonna make 'em into something useful!" She grinned, and nodded as if completely affirming this point.
Then, remembering her manners, she sidled towards him a bit and offered her free hand forward for a shake. "I'm Rikku, by the way. It's nice to meet someone else who knows their mechanical stuff, y'know?"
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Having acquired clothing or a more local appeal (a coat, shirt and jeans, all dark), he'd wandered off through the city on a scouting mission. There were enough differences to possibly create problems should he need to escape from foes, or the police. He kept as many of his tools on him as he could justify, in case trouble started, and that included his guns. The jacket couldn't conceal them quite as neatly as his suit, but he didn't want to be a target tonight.
The scrapyard before him loomed ominously, and he paused, taking note of it. Movement caught his eye, and he quickly slipped into the yard on quiet feet. With all the powerful beings around, he could only hope this one didn't have senses that would make his years of training and experience worthless.
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For now he'd make do with what he had; cloudy anonymous presence, somewhere behind him, angled east. He opened his eyes, straightened his back, and put down the switchboard he'd been tinkering with. In silence, he waited for whatever it was to either come closer, or leave.
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"Amazing what people will toss..." His voice is casual, almost as if he were addressing a friend, rather than a complete stranger.
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He shouldn't have been too surprised then when the Force lead him to his old (or future, in Anakin's case) Master in some place that looked like a small version of Raxus Prime. He had been hesitant to see Anakin without first knowing what to say to him, but apparently the Force thought it was time for them to meet now.
"Master Anakin," he called out, waving to the other man.
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Once Galen was within conversational distance, he considered him. It was comfortable, he noticed, to be in the presence of another Jedi again. Familiar, unfamiliar, it didn't matter: It kept his thoughts off Coruscant, if only for a moment.
He folded his arms into the sleeved of his robes. "Galen, right?"
Very few others here would have thought to call him 'Master', so it couldn't have been anyone else.
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"Yes, Galen Marek," he said, nodding as he got closer, glancing at what Anakin was trying to collect.
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Suddenly, as if he'd been hiding there the entire time, burrowing like some kind of scrapyard mole, Rua poked his head up, holding up... ...something. In reality, he'd just been ducked down looking for parts that were still in some kind of decent condition. His voice was muffled as well; a white surgical mask hung over the bottom half of his face. Perhaps he was not as used to environments like this as Anakin could boast he was.
His prize in hand, he slowly craned his head until he noticed he wasn't alone -- and his eyes bugged out appropriately. "Ah - when'd you get here!?"
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"I've been here over an hour." Easy enough to say, but under the descending fog the statement felt somehow unreal.
His gaze automatically shifted to the piece of machinery in Rua's hands. "Found something good, I take it?"
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"Ah - yeah, yeah! It's..." He looked down at what he'd picked up, getting a really good look at it - now he realized he wasn't sure what it was, he just recognized that it wasn't as old or as beat up as most of the stuff here. "Well - I gotta look up what it is first, but, the important thing is that I found it!"
"What about you?"
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He wanted to get to know his father better; to know the man before he had become the monster that had nearly killed Luke half a dozen times before telling him the truth, before he'd given his life to save Luke and the daughter he never even knew he had. He wanted to hear about Anakin's life in his own words. It was just like the stories of adopted children seeking out their birth parents; Luke wanted to make that connection. Even if Anakin was less than half his age, they were family. That was important to him.
But he just wished sometimes the Force had some kind of ability that would grant him the knowledge of what to say. It would sure have helped out a lot of times over the course of his life.
"Hello?" he said, coming round the edge of a pile of scrapped cars. He'd followed the feel of his father in the Force to this place, hoping to speak.
If only he had the words.
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He studied Luke, not even needing the referential nudge in the Force to recognize him. His mechanical arm whirred gently in the foggy silence as his grip tightened on the piece of scrap metal in his hands. It was hard not to feel suddenly isolated- almost silly. They should have met before now, but it hadn't happened. Seeing Luke now, he knew why.
Life in the city involved a striking duality. Anakin wanted the cues from the home the portal had torn him from, but also couldn't help but avoid the painful reminders. It was the same feeling that had kept him from writing letters from the war front; sometimes, maintaining silence was easier than writing to the one person you needed to, but couldn't, see.
"You, uhAnd then, ( ... )
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Perhaps if he'd had it, some things would have turned out differently.
Nonetheless it was that understanding that made Luke push his hood back the rest of the way (it had been falling off his head anyway, but it was still cold so he'd put it up for the walk out here) and smile a little tentatively at the man who was young enough to be his son but was undoubtedly his father.
Now he knew why it was hard to find things to say, at least. "It's confusing here," Luke said quietly. "And strange." He reached out in the Force, reassurance flowing out along the thin connection. How could he be upset? "Don't worry, I understand." That tenuous smile became a more sheepish one. "I think so, anyway."
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Despite years and years of extensive training, Anakin always wore his emotions openly. Luke's presence felt safe and sincere, but it was obvious that the young Jedi was still on edge- caught somewhere between nervousness and a continuing sense of vague disbelief. The scrapyard had been a window into the quiet center of his mind, and now he was back to stumbling through words and trying to think of things to say to a son he was meeting for the first time.
There was a well of compassion somewhere, but no pathway or understanding for expression. He knew what he felt in the Force, but there was too much dissonance in the way for him to get a secure hold on it. Family- the word pulsed gently amidst the buzz of everything else in his mind- he had flesh and blood family now, and although it was good, it was an unfamiliar thing. He didn't yet know what it meant or how he was supposed to feel about it ( ... )
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