Kanan Jarrus, The Last Padawan (
uncertain_dume) wrote2019-08-02 09:58 am
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MCA #3, Friday Afternoon
... You know what? Kanan was an adventurous guy, sure. But not even having a magical raccoon tail that let him fly was enough incentive to go and stand in the park working on his lightsaber forms today. And so, after class, he made his way back home, avoiding the swooping sun and flying over the quicksand (thanks propeller butt) and just settling in on the floor in the living room to meditate.
With a dog in a frog suit jumping on him every so often, demanding playtime.
He took that in stride. Mostly, he was getting increasingly more worried about Rey. As the day wore on without another check-in, he was seriously edging toward getting Chopper to help slice his phone to see if he could pinpoint exactly which reality he was going to have to get himself a Portalocity ticket to. One week of silence, he could reason away with things being a little more exciting than usual on Jakku. Two weeks? That was unlike Rey.
If nothing else, maybe she just needed a new phone?
He could hope it was that.
Hell, it wasn't that, was it?
[OOC: Open for calls or if you have any reason to be visiting his apartment! CW: Thread with Jack contains frank talk of alcoholism and self-destructive behaviour.]
With a dog in a frog suit jumping on him every so often, demanding playtime.
He took that in stride. Mostly, he was getting increasingly more worried about Rey. As the day wore on without another check-in, he was seriously edging toward getting Chopper to help slice his phone to see if he could pinpoint exactly which reality he was going to have to get himself a Portalocity ticket to. One week of silence, he could reason away with things being a little more exciting than usual on Jakku. Two weeks? That was unlike Rey.
If nothing else, maybe she just needed a new phone?
He could hope it was that.
Hell, it wasn't that, was it?
[OOC: Open for calls or if you have any reason to be visiting his apartment! CW: Thread with Jack contains frank talk of alcoholism and self-destructive behaviour.]
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"So we get some shots of it in orbit, yeah? Not difficult," Jack shrugged, "Get some of the Escape too, nice nebula backdrop or some shit, make it artsy."
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"'Artsy,'" Kanan echoed, looking amused. "You know somebody with a good camera?"
A photographer, he was not. "I suppose I could ask Sabine to paint them both. She's probably hurting for something to do when the island isn't trying to kill us all."
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"You have a good camera on your phone, dork," Jack smirked at him, "Almost everyone does these days. You could go mural if you want."
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"I could what."
Kanan.
Kanan, honey.
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"Mural? Having someone paint the things right onto the wall? Or were you thinking of having them painted on canvas and then hang them up?" Jack was kind of getting into this idea.
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"... I was thinking canvas, but really, this is Sabine. Odds are I'd get as far as 'paint' and the whole apartment would be redecorated already."
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"Couldn't hurt," Jack shrugged, "Beige and babyshit brown aren't much for a color motif, ickle. Unless hotels are your thing. Even an accent wall would make it look nicer."
She'd been watching way, wayyyyy too many home improvement shows. It was something to do instead of sleeping.
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Another long pause.
"A what, Jack?"
Kanan didn't watch much TV.
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She waved a hand at one wall, "One wall, painted a different and brighter color than the other walls. It's an accent wall. Makes it.. I don't know.. brighter or some shit. Fuck, Kanan, do I look like an artist? It's on TV."
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"Hell, Jack, I don't know, I'm not the one talking about accent walls." Kanan smirked a little. "You should see my room on the Ghost."
It was dismal.
There was no other word for it.
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"You should see mine on the Normandy," she fired back. It was.. probably just as bad. "But you got a friend who paints so what's your fucking excuse, ickle?"
Take that, little brother.
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Kanan blinked, and then actually laughed a little.
"That ascetic upbringing you were just giving me shit about."
He figured it was a good excuse, anyway.
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"I mean, you can let me keep giving you shit about that forever," Jack grinned, "I'm okay with that. Orrrr you could maybe talk to your friend."
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"We'll see what Hera things," Kanan decided. "It's her place, too, after all."
... She would probably appreciate having more furniture, at least, Kanan.
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"Nobody in their right mind likes industrial babyshit brown, Kanan," Jack pointed out. "Even you don't wear it."
Babyshit green was another story.
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Hey! It was a great earthy tone!
"... Industrial babyshit is probably the name of some heavy isotope band somewhere," Kanan decided. "And no, I'm not a fan."
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"Too bad neither of us is terribly musically inclined," Jack mused, "We could do that band name justice."
... No, Jack.
"So when do you want to go shopping, ickle?"
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"Uh," Kanan replied, blinking. "... I guess any time the island isn't outright attempting to kill us all dead."
He wasn't hauling back IKEA furniture while the sun was attacking, no.
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"Pfft, please, if you make that a condition, we'll never go shopping again," Jack said, scowling a little, "Kanan, this whole summer's been bullshit and I hate it."
Just in case you hadn't heard it the last fifty or so times she'd complained about that exact same thing.
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