Ahsoka Tano (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
resnipstance) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
pencilcase2017-01-09 10:30 am
resnipstance) wrote in pencilcase2017-01-09 10:30 am
atlas stuff
[Once everyone had been accounted for and safely strapped in, the actual take-off was easy. Between Anakin, Breq, Allura, half the crew of the SS Enterprise, and many others, there was no way they wouldn't be able to figure out how to fly this behemoth of a ship off of this dustball of a planet, even if it was alien tech and half-buried in sand. Finding the strange crystals underground that powered the ship had been the turning point to realising they really could escape.
But getting the ship flight ready? That had been an entirely different problem.
There was so much sand in the engines, so many parts to repair. And it wasn't like they could just drive down to the local store and pick up what they needed. Teams were formed to work on the ship. By consensus, some rooms and parts were cannibalized if they were deemed extraneous to survival, used instead to patch up the ship's more vital functions. But with how quickly the ship drained power from their suits, the work, it seemed, would have to be done in shifts. The pace of repairs went at a crawl.
As for Ahsoka-- the slow pace of their progress on the ship seemed to visibly chafe at her. Now that there was a light at the end of the tunnel, she wanted to get going. Her tension and impatience she channeled into organizing the camp with renewed vigor and bossiness. If there was anything that the Clone War had prepared her for, it was organising others with no prior military experience for maximum efficiency. She very suddenly had less and less time for personal one-on-one conversations, instead pouring all her energy into making sure everything ran smoothly.
When Ahsoka wasn't doing her shift working on the ship, she'd busy herself with something else. Usually hunting. (They weren't sure how long they'd be in space-- sure, they had some map data, but with no idea of how fast the ship moved, it didn't mean a great deal. The camp all comes to the consensus to start stockpiling food early on. Of course Ahsoka throws herself into that, as well.)
When she wasn't hunting or gathering, she'd be teaching someone else how. Or yelling instructions at someone else on their shift while she stands from a safe distance away from the ship, waiting for her suit to recharge. Or drawing diagrams in the sand with the other tech-heads and trying to figure out how exactly they're going to solve this or that new technical problem of the day.
As the weeks of prep wear on, Ahsoka only gets bossier and more intense, and her eyes seem to shine with a burning drive behind them-- a need to save everyone. She starts to seem permanently older than her seventeen years, and it's unclear whether she actually ever sleeps. (She can sleep when they're safe.) She and Anakin start fighting about stupid stuff every third day, like about what part to replace, or what food should be stored for the trip. It's their way of blowing off steam, but finding Ahsoka stewing and pacing around the campfire with an air of annoyance becomes increasingly commonplace.
It takes them a month, all up, to get everything ready. The actual flying is the easy part.]
But getting the ship flight ready? That had been an entirely different problem.
There was so much sand in the engines, so many parts to repair. And it wasn't like they could just drive down to the local store and pick up what they needed. Teams were formed to work on the ship. By consensus, some rooms and parts were cannibalized if they were deemed extraneous to survival, used instead to patch up the ship's more vital functions. But with how quickly the ship drained power from their suits, the work, it seemed, would have to be done in shifts. The pace of repairs went at a crawl.
As for Ahsoka-- the slow pace of their progress on the ship seemed to visibly chafe at her. Now that there was a light at the end of the tunnel, she wanted to get going. Her tension and impatience she channeled into organizing the camp with renewed vigor and bossiness. If there was anything that the Clone War had prepared her for, it was organising others with no prior military experience for maximum efficiency. She very suddenly had less and less time for personal one-on-one conversations, instead pouring all her energy into making sure everything ran smoothly.
When Ahsoka wasn't doing her shift working on the ship, she'd busy herself with something else. Usually hunting. (They weren't sure how long they'd be in space-- sure, they had some map data, but with no idea of how fast the ship moved, it didn't mean a great deal. The camp all comes to the consensus to start stockpiling food early on. Of course Ahsoka throws herself into that, as well.)
When she wasn't hunting or gathering, she'd be teaching someone else how. Or yelling instructions at someone else on their shift while she stands from a safe distance away from the ship, waiting for her suit to recharge. Or drawing diagrams in the sand with the other tech-heads and trying to figure out how exactly they're going to solve this or that new technical problem of the day.
As the weeks of prep wear on, Ahsoka only gets bossier and more intense, and her eyes seem to shine with a burning drive behind them-- a need to save everyone. She starts to seem permanently older than her seventeen years, and it's unclear whether she actually ever sleeps. (She can sleep when they're safe.) She and Anakin start fighting about stupid stuff every third day, like about what part to replace, or what food should be stored for the trip. It's their way of blowing off steam, but finding Ahsoka stewing and pacing around the campfire with an air of annoyance becomes increasingly commonplace.
It takes them a month, all up, to get everything ready. The actual flying is the easy part.]
no subject
You did say.
no subject
I don't tug on your horns!
[ He does reach forward, gently-but-sharply pulling on one montral. ]
no subject
Hey! Those are sensitive!
1/2
2/2
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Sensitive like they have nerve endings in them, brainiac.
[Unlike hair.]
no subject
[ Flirting is so much better when people get it. Or maybe it isn't? She's cute enough that it doesn't matter. ]
--whatever. [ A pause. They're sitting chest-to-chest, breathing each other's air. Almost hesitant, afraid he'll get slapped or pushed away, he cups her face with bare hands. Gentle, this time. ]
Hey. Can I...?
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Oh. This is. Bad.]
Can you...?
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He bows his head, forehead settling against hers, noses brushing. When he speaks again, it's practically right up against her lips. His thumbs trace along the slope of her jaw, chasing her pulse. ]
Please.
no subject
Here, in the present, she can't help but think dimly that Lance's gentle "Please" is so at odds with his overconfident playboy persona. It takes her by surprise, and she feels herself swallow, mouth dry. Didn't they just have a whole conversation about why this is a bad idea?
Force. Has she been silent for too long? Is she making it weird?]
I'm not-- I'm not I'm sure very good at it...
no subject
Heh. Makes two of us.
[ He closes the gap, pads of his fingers still trailing her jaw. His heart is up in his throat now, uncertain but joyous, because for all that he likes to brag, this is the first time anyone's gone past humouring him—and he wants this to be perfect for her. For them.
Which is naturally about when he tilts his head at just the wrong angle and jabs his nose into her cheek. ]
no subject
A small noise that sounds like a suppressed laugh-snort escapes her mouth before she can stop it, and she quickly bites her bottom lip to stop the rest of the giggles she can feel behind her cheeks.]
Sorry-- sorry. I'm not-- I didn't mean-- I'm not laughing at you, I promise.
[Except, she kind of is. But also, the break in tension is so welcome, and her emotions feel like they've been on such a roller coaster ride that the sudden 180 in mood feels ridiculous. But in the best of ways.]
Oh, come here.
[Ahsoka leans forward and jokingly jabs her nose into Lance's cheek, too.]
There, now we're even.