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Jan. 4th, 2030 06:42 pm
credere: (bloody hand)
[personal profile] credere
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Date: 2017-01-06 09:15 am (UTC)
garbagepilot: (Default)
From: [personal profile] garbagepilot
She looks at him, the way he won't look at her, and an odd plan starts to bloom in her head, one she doesn't really understand. She doesn't even know why this is important to her in the first place, but she's never really met someone like her in this way. Something makes her need to try to change this, and so she will.

"Will you come with me somewhere, Credence? I want to show you something."

Date: 2017-01-06 09:22 am (UTC)
garbagepilot: (Default)
From: [personal profile] garbagepilot
With a nod she stands, and she leads the way out of his room and down the hallway. Her destination is her own room, but the door she stops in front of is metal, it has a numeric key pad in the middle, and is something that's just as futuristic as the communicator he doesn't use, the lightsaber he didn't even register, and she pauses when she remembers what a shock the Falcon was to Tommy, to Alfie.

"This is going to be odd at first," she warns him, softly, and then the door slips open and she steps inside, waits for him there to give him the time to work up to literally stepping into the future.

Date: 2017-01-06 09:34 am (UTC)
garbagepilot: (Default)
From: [personal profile] garbagepilot
"Yes. It's a ship, but it travels through space rather than water, sort of like this one does. I'm the pilot."

She'll just give all that a second to sink in.

Date: 2017-01-06 09:49 am (UTC)
garbagepilot: (Default)
From: [personal profile] garbagepilot
"It's easier if I have a co-pilot, but I can fly it alone if I have to."

She doesn't now, thanks to Chewie, but that also brings up the question of whether or not the Falcon is still hers if Han Solo is alive again to claim it, and right now, with Alfie so recently gone, it's a question that's too painful to think of for long.

"I can show you in the Enclosure some day. You can stand in for my co-pilot, it isn't hard."

Date: 2017-01-06 07:22 pm (UTC)
garbagepilot: (Default)
From: [personal profile] garbagepilot
"If I can, you can," she points out, but she won't push for that. Not now at least, not when they're here for a different reason that doesn't have anything to do with Credence's sense of self worth.

Well, it does, but in a different sort of way.

"Do you think you can come in now? I want to show you the kitchen."

Date: 2017-01-06 07:48 pm (UTC)
garbagepilot: (This house she’s quite)
From: [personal profile] garbagepilot
She smiles at him then, and it's soft enough to almost be sweet. He's a good person, so hurt by the world he was born into, and things like just taking his hat off, apologizing for things he doesn't need to, it makes her feel uncommonly fond of him.

Leading him through the Falcon is something she takes slowly, taking a small packet from a cargo bin as she takes him into the galley and finds a small bowl puts a pan on a burner and starts to heat it up.

"This is one quarter of a ration," she tells him, holding the packet up so she can see it. "Which means it's not even half of one meal. If I was lucky, I could afford to trade for one of these a day. Some days, I wasn't very lucky at all."

She lets him watch as she pulls the packet open, pours a strange powder into a bowl and toss two green slabs of gelatinous something into the pan. When it starts to cook it smells vaguely meat-like, and when she puts a bit of water in a bowl, stirs it with her finger, it puffs up into something that could be called bread if you were very, very generous.

Date: 2017-01-06 08:00 pm (UTC)
garbagepilot: (Default)
From: [personal profile] garbagepilot
"From the time I was five years old," she tells him, with no embarrassment, not self pity. She's proud of the fact that she was able to keep herself alive for so long, existing on so little. "This was all I ate from the age of five until about a year ago."

And the synthetic meat doesn't take long to get hot, so she takes it from the pan with a fork, puts it and the bread onto a plate, and gives it to Credence. Two thin, warm slices of something green, bread that has a slight squish to it when you pull it apart. It's the stuff of dreams, truly.

Date: 2017-01-06 08:24 pm (UTC)
garbagepilot: (Default)
From: [personal profile] garbagepilot
"Try it," she prompts him. "And then tell me if you think I should eat only that, despite having so much more to choose from, because it's all I knew my entire life."

Date: 2017-01-06 08:36 pm (UTC)
garbagepilot: (And if i go)
From: [personal profile] garbagepilot
"You can have a different life here, Credence." She tells him, because she doesn't think he's actually thought of that. "Until I got here, I didn't realize mine was- honestly, terrible. I was alone, in the desert, and I was always hungry. I expected people to steal from me at every turn and when people tried to touch me, I flinched away because I knew the only thing that would come from it was pain or an attempt to hold me down, hold me back.

It took being here for a long time to see that there are other things to being alive than just making it through each day, and it'll take you a long time to feel comfortable reaching for things you aren't used to having, but you need to try, Credence. It's okay to want more from your life."

Date: 2017-01-06 08:51 pm (UTC)
garbagepilot: (Default)
From: [personal profile] garbagepilot
"I wouldn't have noticed if I didn't see the similarities," she promises him. "I don't think it's quite as obvious to other people."

It's still obvious, it's impossible to miss how stunted he is, but there's a depth to it she doesn't think most people will be able to see unless they've lived the same kind of hopeless, empty life.

Date: 2017-01-06 09:23 pm (UTC)
garbagepilot: (Default)
From: [personal profile] garbagepilot
She doesn't know him well, of course, but even if she did, even if she could see he was getting frustrated or flustered, it wouldn't stop her, not in this.

"But was it good? Were you happy?"

Date: 2017-01-06 09:33 pm (UTC)
garbagepilot: (And I will go if you ask me to)
From: [personal profile] garbagepilot
That's so absurdly terrible that Rey doesn't even know how to respond to it. She just stares at him for a moment, lips slightly parted in surprise, before she shakes her head.

"You can learn to be. There's worth to your life, Credence."

Date: 2017-01-06 09:42 pm (UTC)
garbagepilot: (Default)
From: [personal profile] garbagepilot
"It's okay if you don't believe it now," she says just as softly, and she takes a step closer to him, reaches up to put her hand so, so lightly on his shoulder. "But try to remember that it's true and one day you might believe it for yourself."

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Credence Barebone

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