(no subject)

[abtruse-wiggin.livejournal.com]

Peter is sitting at a table, reading a book. It's his birthday today, but he hasn't really spread that fact around. Oops?

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[abtruse-wiggin.livejournal.com]

"Everyone but me," Peter says quietly, "Or so it seemed." He can't... he needs to talk to her. Now. "Where is she?"

[protocol-droid.livejournal.com]

Artoo lets out a long string of beeps, which Threepio dutifully ignores for the sake of everyone's sanity. He finally butts in with "I don't know, Master. She prepared this message a week and a half ago. She is probably in her room with Master Luke."

[abtruse-wiggin.livejournal.com]

"I see." And he can't go there. Damn. He'll just have to catch her later. "Thank you."

[astro-droid.livejournal.com]

Artoo beeps again, perhaps a bit frustratedly. No one ever listens to him. If they did, life would certainly be different.

Threepio just bows. "You are welcome, Master Wiggin"

[abtruse-wiggin.livejournal.com]

"Is he trying to say something?" Peter asks, indication Artoo.

[protocol-droid.livejournal.com]

"No, Master Wiggin. He is not saying anything of any importance." Only babbling on about something that Threepio certainly will not translate. That is -not- what one talks about in polite conversation.

[abtruse-wiggin.livejournal.com]

"...alright," Peter says, eyeing Artoo suspiciously.

[protocol-droid.livejournal.com]

He should be suspicious. Because there is doom to come. But there shan't be doom tonight. This is not the night for it.

"He has a strange flutter, Master Wiggin. He babbles on about nothing many times. Ever since we were in the Rebellion, well, he has never quite worked properly."