Hera Syndulla (
for_everyone) wrote2017-05-30 01:17 pm
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Entry tags:
Drinking games
It was supposed to be an easy repair, fiddly but relatively straightforward. But then the stored replacement part was bad, every shop in town was out except for one, which was broken, and the repair to fix that made it an uphill slog to even fit it in the Ghost, due to Chopper and Zeb getting into a fight and leaving at least two drill bits where drill bits did not belong.
And since it was meant to be easy, everyone but Hera and Kanan is out at the cantina enjoying themselves and the two of them are here, exhausted, dusty, and covered in grease. The smell of welding torch is heavy in the air.
Then Hera rolls to her feet, shaking her head a little to clear it.
"You know what? This calls for a drink, and I've just remembered where I left some."
And since it was meant to be easy, everyone but Hera and Kanan is out at the cantina enjoying themselves and the two of them are here, exhausted, dusty, and covered in grease. The smell of welding torch is heavy in the air.
Then Hera rolls to her feet, shaking her head a little to clear it.
"You know what? This calls for a drink, and I've just remembered where I left some."
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"I hate to tell you, Hera, but I wanted to be Master Secura when I grew up. She was amazing."
Brave and strong and smart and true -- all the things a Jedi was supposed to be. That Jedi were.
"So I never watched those holos. Hell, I annoyed people in cantinas when I turned them off."
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She doesn't say anything, but after a moment she does move her head to look back at him again, and lifts her glass to take a drink.
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Then he refills it, because he was getting low.
"Right. Me again."
Maybe it's the increasing alcohol content of his blood making this more difficult every time.
"You really hate the person that first decided putting a compressor on a hyperdrive was a good idea."
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"I am going to throw this glass at you."
It is way too late and she has had way too much to drink to get her started on that topic
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He is a little too tipsy to be using the Force, so he would probably actually have to dodge. And this chair is comfortable.
" . . . actually no I won't do that. I'm just going to sit here. Comfortably. Please don't throw your glass."
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Tipsy or not, it's always a good rule around Hera.
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He takes another drink, even though it's not technically his turn.
"Oops."
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Or they've just reached the point where it's too hard to think of questions.
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He doesn't yawn, but kind of wants to.
"Need to get more high-quality booze first, though."
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Their budget isn't getting any less tight.
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Kanan could mean the excessive tipsiness they are both now embracing.
He could also mean the amount of not-quite-uncomfortable truth that decided to show up.
(It's both.)
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"We should go to bed."
But that requires standing up. And moving. Neither of which she really feels like doing right now.
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"Before Zeb and Chop get back," he agrees.
"Maybe if we both go, at least one of us will make it."
He will shove Hera into bed with the last of his Force-strength. Collapsing in the hallway afterward is the inevitable fallout, but that's fine.
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"How much is left in the bottle?"
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Kanan shifts the bottle back and forth, sloshing the contents around for a second.
"Two mouthfuls? Three?"
(It's two.)
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"Then finish it, so I don't have to put the bottle back."
Hera is being very responsible, yes.
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"Which one of us is more likely to be able to haul the other one around? That should probably not be the one that finishes this bottle."
It could be Hera! She's crafty, and excellent with leverage.
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Because apparently, she has to do everything...
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Whoops.
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"All right..."
She takes a deep breath, and finishes off the bottle, not bothering with her glass again. Then she closes her eyes again, pressing her free hand against her forehead for a moment, before moving it to the table, flat so as to leverage her weight as she stands.
"I need to put this in the compactor.."
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See? He doesn't make you do everything, Hera.
"Just stay here. I'll be right back."
One or two sloppy uses of the Force will make sure neither he nor the bottle crashes down on the way to the compactor.
And on the way back.
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She looks back up to him when he returns. "Okay?"
Maybe she's asking about him Or the bottle. Or the trash compactor. Or all of them.
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He hesitates for a second, frowning as if in deep thought.
"The bottle was on the inside when I did."
That means he did the entire process correctly, which is good.
"So. Bed?"
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There's a glance back at the glasses left on the table, but then she shakes her head. She can deal with it in the morning.
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"We can do this."
Really, they totally can.
It's not going to be a problem at all.
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