nothingbrave | for kestreldawn

[ Bodhi isn't sure he's going to be good at being a Rebel. He hadn't been good at being an Imperial, which one might assume lends itself to being a rebel by default, but he'd been bad at it long before he'd ever heard of Galen Erso. A good enough pilot, but lacking the drive or conviction to fight. Obedient, but doubtful. Jyn, he thinks, is much better at this. Even if she isn't a Rebel, she knows what she's doing. It probably isn't fair that he's looking to her for this, but she's as magnetic as her father and he can't seem to help himself.

The bar they meet at isn't exactly a bar. More of a re-purposed corner of the base, secluded and stocked and left to operate under little to no supervision for the sake of morale. Not much, but enough to fulfill the general purpose of getting drunk with friends. The unfortunate thing is that Bodhi gets there first. The fortunate thing is that he's finally changed clothes, too short in the arms and too wide in the legs but better than an Imperial flight suit.

Which means no one tries to punch him when he enters. A bonus. ]

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As Jyn surveys what's left of her most recent target at the shooting range, she sets down her blaster and exhales a tiny, satisfied sigh. There was some vague part of her that was worried that perhaps she'd gotten rusty in her blaster skills, though the logical part of her brain knew better than that. Her accuracy, her speed -- they were two things upon which she could always rely, without fault and without doubt. They were calculated, mathematical. They didn't require emotion or thought.

Precisely as she preferred. The latter got too complicated for her liking. No, if given the choice, she'd always choose her weapons over people. Her weapons had never disappointed her.

But she's suddenly back in her body and realizing that she's late for meeting Bodhi for drinks. Despite her better attempts at staying as neutral and unconcerned as possible, there was a sort of desperation in Bodhi's message that caused concern to spark through her brain. She slips the blaster back into its holster and runs past the bloke who keeps a disinterested eye on the range without acknowledgement.

A few moments later, she's approaching the somewhat sad excuse for a bar, eyes darting and glancing for the familiar Bodhi-shaped figure.

'I guess it's better than nothing,' she thinks to herself as she spots him. She quickly scans what he's wearing, and if he'd seen her, he would've seen the briefest flash of amusement cross her features at his clothing. But as quickly as it arrives, it leaves.

"I got distracted at the range," she offers as a vague apology as she sits herself down to his left. "Hopefully you haven't been waiting long."

There's a technicality at play that keeps him from tripping too much when he tells her, "No, no, not long." He hasn't been sitting here long at all, doesn't even have a drink yet, but it'd taken him a bit of time to work up to walking in the door to begin with. It's not like anyone is going to call Bodhi out as Imperial at this point. He's taken his oaths of allegiance, been put to work with maintenance to keep him busy, but the sensation that he's out of place still lingers when he's left on his own in the base.

"How was the range? I haven't seen it yet, not really -- Not exactly my area." He's fidgeting already, fingers lacing and unlacing in front of him on the table. "The shooting, I mean."

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knows he's going on. Fully aware that he's talking faster and more than necessary, whispering Bodhi, hush, as if that will change the inclination. At most, it's enough to halt it temporarily, his mouth set in an awkward line and he recalibrates what it is he actually wants to say.

"Thank you, though, for coming."

Jyn's gotten used to the rapid way in which Bodhi spits out his words, almost like if he doesn't let them loose fast enough, they'll get clogged in his throat and choke him. It's taken a bit of time for her to learn how to listen as fast as he can speak, but she thinks she's gotten a handle on it. Mostly.

Her eyes drop to his mouth as he talks about the range. It helps her figure out what he's saying when he's speaking quietly or too quickly. She's thinking about how to answer when she takes in the familiar sight of his fidgeting, the way his eyes seem to dart around as though he's anticipating a stray blaster strike or something worse. She goes to open her mouth when he thanks her, which causes her to close her mouth again to allow for a very faint but very genuine smile.

She gives him a slight nudge with her elbow as she twists herself on the stool, turning towards the bar. She rests her hands loosely on the surface, a stark contrast to Bodhi's ever-moving digits.

"The range is all right. Good enough, at least," she replies, backtracking. "I go there when I'm feeling .." She pauses, lips pursing ever so slightly, "Tense. Or bored. Or both. But it's better than nothing, honestly." She's trying to sound as casual and as laid-back as possible, in an attempt to help soothe some of Bodhi's anxiety. She knows it's more or less a lost cause, but she tries all the same.

"And nothing to thank me for. I've only just gotten here, and who knows, I might make it worse than -- whatever it is, is." She's teasing, though after the words escape her lips she wonders if that was going to make matters worse. Instead of waiting to find out, she signals to the bartender with a raised finger and flick of her head.

"Three of the strongest whatevers you've got; two for him, one for me."

for kestreldawn

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omg bodhi stahp we love you omg