apoptotic: (063)
(pre-) poor little wheeze wheeze ([personal profile] apoptotic) wrote 2016-10-31 09:32 pm (UTC)

Did they run out of meal tickets? [ a little too dry for sarcasm; an inch too sharp to be wry. she's still upset. it's obvious in her manner; concern threads through her in the force. his hand, the one still made of muscle and bone, settles on chihiro's shoulder. ]

Let's go inside. Come on.

[ the reverend had given them all a firm discussion on what was expected and what was allowed. violence had ranked up there with drunkenness in his list of nos. anakin checks the weapon. the safety is on, but he takes it several steps further. the power pack slides out first. anakin collapses the rest of the rifle into its component parts. in pieces, the rifle is almost lost in the mess of parts that so frequently dominate his area. when and where he sleeps are good questions seeing how much of his time is kept busy repairing things for the reverend or others in town or making improvements for his own use.

with space on his bed restricted, anakin takes a seat on the bed that had been luke's. it has been kept as luke left it. just in case. anakin pats the spot next him for her to join him.
]

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