He's quick to pick up the basics for simple repairs like this (while glancing longingly at a tech team where he'd like to feel more at home but where most of the machines don't work in any way he finds familiar). The medium is new--he'd be much happier working on an engine block--it has predictable physical properties and is fairly simple to deal with. Even if the whole exercise does remind him entirely too much of his teenage chores of (ineptly) fixing holes that the slow-boiling war of occupation left all over NiJedha.
The work is fine. The big scary thumping noises? There's no getting used to it. He jumps half out of his skin every time.
iii
NiJedha was once the center of dozens if not hundreds of faiths, big and small, strange and simple, united only in being centered on The Force and the kyber crystals that made the little moon what it was. Then it was a smoldering ruin, the surviving monks and pilgrims reduced to indigence and guerrilla warfare, the ones who did not survive often declining to go gentle. In other words, Bodhi grew up in a very haunted city. The glimpses out of the corner of his eye are a bit unnerving, but the dead really don't frighten him in general. He doesn't look long at any of them, though. Because there are plenty of dead people in particular who frighten him very much.
It's not one of those he finally has to acknowledge, though. That almost would have been easier. Bodhi spends most of his time in a state of slow-burning abject terror. But seeing Corporal Tonc--just for a second, a flickering but unmistakable figure a few feet ahead of him--that he can't handle nearly so easily. Of everyone he met in the horrible few days after his defection, the only one who showed him unmotivated, simple kindness--and one he knows for certain died as a result of his stupid plan. Well, who didn't, that day on Scarif, but the master switch was Bodhi's idea.
That finally leaves him looking like he's seen a ghost.
iv
While he wasn't quite sure what he'd be getting into, a couple quick glances have demonstrated to Bodhi that he absolutely would not enjoy seeing the big, scary haunted houses. Gore and torture and psychological torment are constant companions, not novelties. He's intending to walk (quickly) back to the rest of the park and the rides that feel a little bit like flying again when he stops at the one clearly intended for children. He's never been a sucker for cute, but after all the unpleasant little tugs at his nerves checking out the real scares, there's something incredibly endearing about the silly, colorful tribute to the idea of being scared, perfectly harmlessly.
He hangs back despite the temptation. It's... probably a little weird for a lone adult to be so intrigued.
v
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» Age: 25 » Seeking: People to talk to » Preferences: I could probably talk about most things, really? » Interests:ships, piloting, geoscience » Bio: cargo pilot, born on Jedha, trained in Terrabe, I've seen every episode of Beyond the Outer Rim
Bodhi Rook | Star Wars
Bodhi is a city kid.
He's quick to pick up the basics for simple repairs like this (while glancing longingly at a tech team where he'd like to feel more at home but where most of the machines don't work in any way he finds familiar). The medium is new--he'd be much happier working on an engine block--it has predictable physical properties and is fairly simple to deal with. Even if the whole exercise does remind him entirely too much of his teenage chores of (ineptly) fixing holes that the slow-boiling war of occupation left all over NiJedha.
The work is fine. The big scary thumping noises? There's no getting used to it. He jumps half out of his skin every time.
iii
NiJedha was once the center of dozens if not hundreds of faiths, big and small, strange and simple, united only in being centered on The Force and the kyber crystals that made the little moon what it was. Then it was a smoldering ruin, the surviving monks and pilgrims reduced to indigence and guerrilla warfare, the ones who did not survive often declining to go gentle. In other words, Bodhi grew up in a very haunted city. The glimpses out of the corner of his eye are a bit unnerving, but the dead really don't frighten him in general. He doesn't look long at any of them, though. Because there are plenty of dead people in particular who frighten him very much.
It's not one of those he finally has to acknowledge, though. That almost would have been easier. Bodhi spends most of his time in a state of slow-burning abject terror. But seeing Corporal Tonc--just for a second, a flickering but unmistakable figure a few feet ahead of him--that he can't handle nearly so easily. Of everyone he met in the horrible few days after his defection, the only one who showed him unmotivated, simple kindness--and one he knows for certain died as a result of his stupid plan. Well, who didn't, that day on Scarif, but the master switch was Bodhi's idea.
That finally leaves him looking like he's seen a ghost.
iv
While he wasn't quite sure what he'd be getting into, a couple quick glances have demonstrated to Bodhi that he absolutely would not enjoy seeing the big, scary haunted houses. Gore and torture and psychological torment are constant companions, not novelties. He's intending to walk (quickly) back to the rest of the park and the rides that feel a little bit like flying again when he stops at the one clearly intended for children. He's never been a sucker for cute, but after all the unpleasant little tugs at his nerves checking out the real scares, there's something incredibly endearing about the silly, colorful tribute to the idea of being scared, perfectly harmlessly.
He hangs back despite the temptation. It's... probably a little weird for a lone adult to be so intrigued.
v
» Seeking: People to talk to
» Preferences: I could probably talk about most things, really?
» Interests:ships, piloting, geoscience
» Bio: cargo pilot, born on Jedha, trained in Terrabe, I've seen every episode of Beyond the Outer Rim