milliways_bar | (no subject)

(no subject)

Inyri's in the bar.

She's sipping a cup of caf, just to be sure, seeing as she doesn't want to cause another concussion with her getting drunk and falling on the floor.

She's a happy-happy Inyri. Probably the happiest anyone has ever seen her. (Including herself)

Come and chat!!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"There's an Ewok," Hobbie says by way of greeting. "It talks. Am I dead?"

"Ewoks? Kriff." But even that doesn't stop the grin. "And are you dead? No."

There's also a Wes! Who appears. Like magic!

"Hey, both of you." He grins and sits beside Inyri. "Ewok," he confirms. "He knows me, too!"

"He knows someone named Kirney too," Hobbie confirms. "Ex-girlfriend of yours, Wes?"

Hobbie might be smiling, but it's sort of hard to tell, with him.

"Kirney?" Inyri frowns. Sounds familiar. "Well, is she, Wes? Did you looove her?"

Wes looks between the two of them, then rolls his eyes. "No. 's not her real name anyway," he tells them, an uncertain smile on his face. "Lara Notsil, apparently."

"You're joking," Hobbie says flatly. "Didn't she die? Something?"

"Lara Notsil? The girl from Wraith Squadron?" Inyri frowns. "Huh. Wow. So she's alive."

She pauses. "Speaking of alive..." She gives Wes a look.

"Hey, I thought so too," Wes says to Hobbie, shrugging. "But hey, Imp Intelligence for you."

He blinks at the look, confused for a second, then-- "Oh! Alive." And grins up at Hobbie. "You're not dead, Hobs! And I mean, really not dead, 'stead of just me saying you're not. I mean. I was right!"

"That's good," Hobbie says quietly. "Real, real good. So. What happened?"

"You were shot down, and you ejected, but plowed into the ground or something. You broke your arm, and had some bruises and scratches. They dunked you in bacta, and you were good to go." Inyri grins. "Better than me, I had a concussion!"

Wes snickers. "Sure, Inyri. Concussion's far, far worse than getting put in a bacta tank."

"That's good," Hobbie repeats. "I- broke my real arm? Not the mech one?"

"Yeah, the real one." Inyri nods, then elbows Wes. "Hey, he broke an arm, I have a head injury, laser brains."

"Well, sure, 's bad... and I guess Hobbie's used to bacta by now..." Wes grins ruefully at Hobbie. "I dunno, this sounds more like a conversation for you, decidin' whose injury's worst. I got off easy, I think, right?" A glance at Inyri.

"Don't like breaking bones," Hobbie grumbles. "They tickle in the bacta, when you wake up. And then you can't laugh because you've got the tubes down your throat and your whole squadron comes and laughs at your paunch."

Inyri pauses. "Hobbie, that sounds horrible. I think I'm quiting Starfighter Command now, thanks."

A quick glance at Wes, then. "Hobbie, Wes has something he wants you to know. Right now."

Or she'll leave him. For Hobbie.

Wes looks (staaaares) at Inyri, squinting. "I do?"

Silly 'nyri.

"You'd quit because of my paunch?" Hobbie looks even more woeful than normal. "...you have something to tell me?"

Inyri looks slightly pink. Maybe red. She might be fuming actually.

"Hobbie, Wes and I are...in love, dating, whatever."

There. It's out.

Wes blinks. And swallows. "Oh, right. That."

And stares up at the rafters.

Maybe smirking just a little bit.

"Okay." Hobbie's... well, stunned doesn't quite cover it. "That's nice, for you. Both. Congradulations."

Inyri watches him. "That's all? You're not mad? You don't want to break something?"

She looks sidelong at Wes. "You want cake, Hobbie? Lum?"

Wes looks at Hobbie, eyes narrowed a little, curiously, smirk gone. Then he blinks and glances at Inyri. "I think you can get him cake and lum." He's obviously concerned.

A pause.

"If y'get me some too."

Not that concerned, then?

"No. I, uh, thank you. Very nice of you," Hobbie mumbles. "Gonna go now, I think. Leave you to bein'... happy. Right."

He pushes himself away from the Bar and ambles off, hands shoved into his pockets.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only