We Shall Fight

Now people talk around him a lot but it’s only directed at him about five percent of the time. Which means that usually he doesn’t pay attention to the noises around him. But the question is rather specific and to be fair his attention isn’t fully on the blaster anymore considering his inability to find where that particular part is supposed to go. So when a female voice asks him where he found the thing, he looks up. He comes face to face with a rather tense looking female, who he doesn’t exactly recognise - but that’s nothing new, really.

Looking back down at the blaster, he retraces his steps in his mind, thinking of where exactly he picked it up. Luckily his memory is being helpful on that subject, considering it still won’t tell him where he got the mystery part from, so it doesn’t take him too long before he can look back up at the female with him. “Picked it up on my way back from breakfast,” he replies easily, giving her another short look before turning her gaze back down.

A few minutes of not looking at it usually help him with focusing better, a theory which is once again proven true when he, with a start, remembers where he’s supposed to put it back. And so he picks up his tool again to make quick work of dismantling some pieces once more so he can put it back together again properly.

Normally, Hyuna likes to think she does a pretty good job of reigning in her emotional outbursts.  Knowing she has a problem with her temper often leads to her avoiding aggravating situations.  This is usually done in an effort to not draw attention to herself when she doesn’t want it.  There are however, some unfortunate circumstances where Hyuna really cannot control her temper—and she doesn’t want to either.  Such as when someone takes her blaster without asking and then proceeds to mess around with it as if it’s a perfectly normal and alright thing to do.

“Ah.  Thought so.”  

She doesn’t think, doesn’t even consider the action as wrong when she reaches forward and grabs the collar of his shirt.  Pulling him up slightly, Hyuna leans forward, her eyes narrowed and jaw clenched.  “You have about three seconds to give me my blaster back or your new home will be the infirmary.”  Despite her anger, her voice is quiet though it warbles slightly as she prevents herself from yelling.

seol frowns momentarily at the loss of contact to her hair, alongside the swat against her precious hand, finding the short stacks of her own fringe to fumble with before groaning and stumbling backwards, falling from being upright to a squat that she begins to rock back and forth in. yes, she was nearly 24 and sulking in the middle of the street - what was wrong with that? her features were scrunched up half heartedly in exhaustion, inebriation and annoyance. 

“if i have.. short hair, does that mean i’m less important?” her doe eyes are looking upward, trying to recognise a hyuna blurring in and out of her vision as she traces the minuscule lumps of tar peeking through the paved road, happily counting each square centimetre as she gets distracted, once again.

she ponders on the words she understood, attempting to get up but flailing more than standing properly, waking herself up with some obnoxious lip trills as though preparing to sing, or to speak - both of which she avoided habitually. “i like bumps and bruises ~ plus, why would i blame you? there are plenty other people who.. can take the fall in any situation for me.” she wiggles her eyebrows suggestively, knowing well she had just said something she will most definitely regret later on.

Well that was, unexpected? Why is it that when drunk people tend to degrade themselves more than usual?  It annoys her and she’d like to tell Seol as much but she’s unsure how she’ll react.  And she’s not exactly in the mood to try and corral a drunk person more than she normally does.  “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.”  That is probably the nicest response she could give and even then, her aggravation sounds a little mean to her ears.  Though really, Seol probably shouldn’t be surprised with it by now.

Eyeing the other carefully, Hyuna thinks that maybe she should drag her back to base and put her to sleep.  She’s drunk and making silly decisions.  But Hyuna is curious and concerned that Seol will wander off on her own anyway.  Then she would be blamed for it and that was not going to happen.  But then she stands properly and seems to be alright for a moment so Hyuna once again decides against it.  The little bits of info Seol has revealed throughout the night are also remarkably interesting.  

One particular morning, Jackson finds a blaster, somewhere on his way back from breakfast. The first thing he notices is that it’s not a regular blaster. The second thing is that there is a particular mechanism to the weapon that instantly sparks his curiosity. Nowhere in his thought process does he think of who the blaster might belong to, because that part has never mattered before in his life. And so, he picks the thing up and takes it along with him.

He goes through the rest of his usual morning routine first, before sitting down properly with the blaster and a few of his tools, so he can start on dismantling the thing to see exactly how it has been put together. He’s decided to do his tinkering in one of the shared spaces, mostly because any of these is at least ten times as big as his room. And he needs his space to be able to take something apart and still know how it’s supposed to be put back together, after all.

Sadly, that is exactly the problem he faces when eventually he starts on putting the blaster back together. There is a very specific part that none of the other blasters he’s ever taken apart used to have, and he’s a little hazy on where exactly he pulled that part out. He’s squinting slightly in order to be able to see better, the tip of his tongue sticking out of his mouth a little as well, all of his attention focused on the device in his hands. Yet the original place of the part continues to elude him, causing him to slowly get frustrated.

Although Hyuna would never like to admit it out loud, she can often be quite scattered brained about miscellaneous things when she’s hyper focused on other things.  For instance, when she’s trying to come up with new strategies based off latest intel from spies in The First Order.  Of course it’s all simulation, they hadn’t encountered any enemies in a little while.  But these simulations are enough to keep Hyuna sufficiently distracted from things she normally would be all too aware of.  Like leaving one of her blasters near the mess hall after bumping into an officer.

She knows that she shouldn’t carry around more than one blaster at a time.  She knows this, and yet it doesn’t stop her from having at least one, usually two on her person at all times.  Even when she sleeps.  So it doesn’t surprise her that it takes a while for her to notice that one of her blasters is missing as one is still firmly attached to her hip. But when she finally does, panic sets in upon the discovery that it’s one of her modified blasters.  

she was all talk and no walk, most of the time. well, more so consider and never carry out. it was the sad cycle of having no way of saying what she felt out loud, but god did the cards flip when she had ale in one hand and an ewok charm clasped tightly in the other. she was slightly off centre, with gravity not quite on her side as she clung onto her senior, not only for support but to get a better look at her defined features. appreciation of beauty and excellence, her sister once called it, as both of them fawned over the latest model, limited edition blaster being advertised in the town centre.

“you have such nice hair ! how come i’ve never noticed? fluffy, soft, nice hair.” she mumbles as she drags her feet a few steps onward, noticing the glances of the few onlookers of whom she returned their looks - with curiosity, and distaste. emotions she is familiar with enough for their gaze to turn before her’s does. 

the ends of hyuna’s hair were an obvious option as something to fiddle with, and of course seol’s fingers followed the loose curls as she tried to lead them both forward in urgent bursts of pace. her eyebrows furrow at the statement, a small puff from her nostrils as she shakes her head and presses her pointer finger against the older girl’s lips to quieten her - or, something or that sort. 

“i’m a rare edition figurine, trust me.

we leave corellia soon enough - it can’t be far from finished, and i think we totally deserve to know.“ she doesn’t know where it comes from, but it rolls off her tongue anyway. like anything in this state, she slurs her words together so much so she’s lost singing, but she thinks it sounds nice. yeah, why wouldn’t it?

Seol is drunk enough that Hyuna really should just take her back to base and put her to bed.  She hadn’t thought that the other had drank quite that much, but apparently Hyuna was wrong.  Even so, she makes no move to collect the other and drag her away.  If anything, she listens and waits patiently, seemingly weighing her options while giving Seol a change to explain.  This is, of course, if the other will even listen to Hyuna in the first place, something she isn’t so sure about.

The playing with her hair is mildly aggravating but she’s just buzzed enough to patiently accept it for the moment.  Drunks friends have done much worse to her hair—and really the compliment pleases her more than she cares to admit.  “Hair care is important Seol, thank you for noticing.”  Carefully, Hyuna reaches up and grasps Seol’s wrist, tugging her hand away from her hair.  It’s not that she minds too much per say, but the gesture feels too familiar that it unsettles Hyuna even if it’s done without any intentions.

If she hadn’t come out with Seol tonight, it is likely that Hyuna would already left her or snapped at her to stop trying to touch her.  But there is something about an inebriated comrade that makes her far more patient than she would be otherwise.  Still, Hyuna swats the other’s hand away when she tries to silence her and can’t help but laugh again at her suggestion.

hyuna’s not good at talking. not in the sense that she’s shy or keeps a foot in her mouth at all times like certain crewmates, but in that she’s particularly good at talking about nothing instead of things that really matter. which is fine, he supposes, because she’s never been shy with her actions around him. hyuna’s as bold as they come, brash and reckless and with more confessions in her blood stained knuckles and the rigid line of her eyes than the words out of her mouth could ever promise.

minhae hopes that one day he’ll get her to talk, but he also knows that right now he doesn’t quite need to.

right now, he’s confronted with the sight of hyuna’s rebel butch realness in leather boots and blood red lips and even if he wanted to (which he most certainly does not), minhae can’t say no to anything she asks now.

a man bumps into hyuna and minhae reaches for her defensively, turning around on his stilettos to cuss him out. but the guy slows down, eyes looking the two of them up and down and minhae raises a brow. he’s dressed like the epitome of every no homo scumbag he actively avoids, salmon colored pants and all, but he’s far too interested in the both of them for minhae to ignore, even as the man returns to his group of rowdy, three-out-of-ten looking friends.

and he was at least a seven.

so when hyuna turns around, kittenish mouth pulled into that feral grin he just adores, minhae knows he’s going to like whatever comes out of it.

“are you thinking what i’m thinking?”

One of the reasons Hyuna feels so comfortable with Minhae is the fact that often she feels like they’re on the same wavelength.  She doesn’t have to pretend to be something she’s not.  Minhae doesn’t have to adjust to her sensitivities.  In its simplest form, it is a relationship that is comfortable and fair.  At it’s best, full conversations are had in quirked brows and snarky grins.  These are the kind of nights where those snarky grins lead to endless entertainment.  Sometimes it surprises her how easily it is to interact with him. She really should start to open up to him more.  If they can do these sorts of things together, she doubted he would judge her.

But that’s a worry for another night.  Probably many nights from now when she can no longer hold it in.  Minhae does that to her.  Makes her want to speak.  It makes her more reckless.

She pulls her hair to one side and moves it over her shoulder, still grinning as she does so. “I’m thinking that masculinity is fragile.”  For the group that just walked inside, that seemed to be the understatement of the year.  “So wouldn’t it be so nice to steal their money, alcohol, and maybe get laid in the process if we’re so inclined?”  Lazily, she loops an arm around Minhae’s and looks towards the club.  

THE FEMALE F I G H T E R → aesthetic.