#starkillcrs

so most people, upon greeting one of their surest and most steadfast friends, would have something friendly and warm to say. there might be some surprise, maybe, or some genuine excitement and enthusiasm. wedge antilles, on the other hand, believes that he has located the culprit behind all of this (this being the whole situation) in the form of luke skywalker. he jabs a finger forward at him, straightening, his tone already reaching disbelief that should honestly not be as familiar as it is.

disbelief, though, is a general state of what it’s like to know luke skywalker (shooting womp rats two meters large, cables around walkers, so on, so forth). 

“you can say all of this isn’t your fault somehow,“ he decides, “but i’m going to have a really difficult time believing you.“

with everything that had happened recently, with ben, snoke, ravana, everyone, rey had begun taking more time to herself. usually that meant working on the falcon, hoping to get it looking better for when han finally returned. whenever that would be. with the return of her rougher side came the return of her clothing from jakku. the tan tabard, the arm wraps, the leather belt. and the three buns. it just felt right. she had just been working on the engine, grease all over her face, when she’d stopped for lunch, sitting in the field on the opened hatch of the falcon and eating with her fingers. she felt very much like the scavenger on jakku again. the only thing that remained from her new self was her custom constructed staffsaber. even though she had thought her life was so miserable when she’d been like this, she somehow found comfort in it now. she began to imagine what it would be like returning to jakku, making herself ‘no one’ yet again, and starving, but independent and worry-free. was the idea tempting? yes. but could she ever do it? no. even if she could get off this planet, ben and finn and the others would not let her. but... when they were free. when the barrier was gone and the force was balanced. perhaps then she could begin a new life where she didn’t bring pain to the people around her, since there would be no one around to hurt.

so there are priorities, and then there are priorities.

number one has been searching out everyone he knows, once he’s figured out that those around him are similarly younger or even back from the dead. so when he sees luke skywalker, younger and not wearing anything that lando would approve of, he proceeds to get up from his vigil working away at the singular computer in the laboratory, chair creaking, and march over to confront him personally.

the coat swishes and everything. it’s very - well, it gets attention, which is just about always lando’s strategy. “luke,” he calls out, “i know it’s been a while since we last spoke, and times are desperate, but you should have known that i wouldn’t stand for whatever that is.”

it was so secret that orion wasn’t a very patient person and once she was determined to do something, she wanted to get her answers quickly. “kriffing hell!” she exclaimed, balling up a piece of useless paper and throwing it across the storage room. she had found a set of logs which felt like she was reading someone’s very boring diary. it didn’t give her any information that she needed. orion groaned as she rustled through some more folders before placing her hands on her head, glaring at the papers.

                                                  a name butcher + a nerf gunner