fandomhighdorms | Fourth floor common room, Sunday morning

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Fourth floor common room, Sunday morning

Dean was in the kitchen making breakfast for whoever happened by as he occasionally was wont to do. Hunter was with him, stalking across the back of the sofa and sniffing curiously inbetween the cushions. The tv, thankfully had been dispossessed of whatever weirdness that had had it playing pirate porn the night before and Dean had it tuned to nothing more provocative than some music videos.

All in all it was a fairly cheerful morning.

[OOC: free breakfast for any who wants it.]

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"What color is it where you're from?" Peter asked.

"Blue," Luke said. "Added nutrients," he explained. "I lived on a desert planet--we didn't exactly have another way of getting the vitamins you'd get eating leafy greens and blues."

"Interesting," Peter said, and meant that too. "What'd you do for water?"

"We pulled it out of the sky using machines," Luke said. "I lived on a moisture farm, actually." He made a face. "Which might be the most boring place in any galaxy to grow up. I was desperate to be gone."

"I've never been to a moisture farm so to me it sounds fascinating," Peter said. Then, so Luke wasn't the only one sharing, he added, "I'm from New York City. Don't know if you've heard of it but it's a lot of buildings and people. Not much farming of any kind to be found there."

Luke's eyes lit up. "Oooh. I need to go there, I think." He smiled. "I'm finally used to having a lot of people around me."

He thought of Fandom as a lot of people. Poor, poor Luke.

"What did you do in New York?"

"School, like here," Peter said. "I'm hoping to be a nurse someday."

"A nurse?" Luke smiled. "You'd think this is cool, then," he said, taking his glove off of his right hand. "This is prosthetic."

Other than the tiny seam on the underside of Luke's wrist, the hand looked precisely the same as one made of flesh.

"That's amazing," Peter said. He leaned in to take a closer look, then stopped. "Do you mind?"

"Go ahead," Luke said with a smile, holding his hand steady. "I'm used to it."

Peter examined Luke's hand, touching it gingerly for fear of damaging it. "There's no way that I would've been able to tell."

Luke reached his left hand over and popped open the control panel, revealing a dizzying array of wires and gears. "I'd rather have the old hand back," Luke admitted, "but this one works just fine."

"How'd you lose it, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Training accident," Luke replied.

He'd learned from it, all right. Thus...training.

"It was just off by a weapon we have at home called a lightsaber. Hurt like a son of a bitch," he said, pressing his lips together. "Just in case you were ever planning on, you know, being a hero or something. It's not all it's cracked up to be."

"I think there's a place for heroes," Peter said. "Sometimes sacrifices must be made for the greater good."

Luke gave Peter a small smile. "Then you're definitely at the right school. It seems like more than half of us have destinies carved out in stone. Sometimes literally."

"I'm hoping to find mine," Peter said. "That's why I came here. I just have this feeling that this is where I need to be right now."

"I've been taught to trust feelings like that," Luke said, nodding.

"'course last time I tried that I fell to the ground," Peter said. "But try try again, right?"

Luke grinned. "My teacher used to say 'do or do not. There is no try.'" He raised an eyebrow. "What were you doing?"

"Trying to fly," Peter said. "If it wasn't for Walter I would've ended up in the hospital again."

"In a ship, right?" Luke asked. He frowned. "You didn't listen to Parker and jump off the roof or anything?"

Parker had given him some strange advice when he had arrived.

"No, I jumped," Peter admitted. "Not because of Parker though."

Luke blinked. "Maybe it'll work next time," he said faintly.

"I keep hoping," Peter said.

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tatooine-doofus.livejournal.com - 2007-01-16 17:21 (UTC) - Expand

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