Luke Skywalker (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
taggingwomprats) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
exsiliumlogs2013-08-10 01:35 pm
taggingwomprats) wrote in exsiliumlogs2013-08-10 01:35 pm
Entry tags:
[Open] They're not exactly power converters, but...
Who: Luke Skywalker, Open
What: Doing a bit to help out the Exiles.
Where: The Exile Hospital
When: Afternoon of August the 10th.
Warnings: None
After getting settled in (if you could call moving his small collection of things into his spartan apartment "settling in") Luke had done what he tended to do when he ended up some place new - go exploring. Well, that and buy some proper rain-gear. He'd spent hours wandering the city that sprawled out around the Hold and it reminded him far too much of Mos Eisley, writ large. Or maybe Nar Shadda. Lots of people trying to live their lives as best they could with relatively little - this were supposed to be the people they were fighting for. Admittedly, Luke was a bit more sentimental then most, but sitting around and just watching had never been something he enjoyed doing.
Asking around for anyone in need of someone handy with machines or mechanics brought him to the hospital. From what they told him, their elevators were out of service - mainly because they hadn't had the time to spare anyone to fix them. Fortunately, most of them hadn't ID'd Luke as a transport. At least not until he started asking questions. There'd been a few cold shoulders and the temperature of the room had dropped a few degrees when it had come out, but they'd still accepted his offer - albeit with a few glares and whispers.
Now he was elbow deep in the generator that was supposed to power the elevators. They'd been able to give him a collection of tools (unfortunately, there wasn't a single, solitary hydrospanner, but he'd make do) and then left him to it. Luke shifted, adjusting the flashlight between his teeth as he tried to find the problem. The generator itself was in a covered, open area around the back of the hospital and looked like it had been jury-rigged into the building's power system. Just like everything else here.
He glanced up and watched the flow of pedestrians going back and forth, the rain sheeting down just beyond the rigged awning of sheet metal and tarps.
"Hey," he mumbled around the flashlight towards one that had wandered particularly close, "Hand me that screwdriver, would you?"
What: Doing a bit to help out the Exiles.
Where: The Exile Hospital
When: Afternoon of August the 10th.
Warnings: None
After getting settled in (if you could call moving his small collection of things into his spartan apartment "settling in") Luke had done what he tended to do when he ended up some place new - go exploring. Well, that and buy some proper rain-gear. He'd spent hours wandering the city that sprawled out around the Hold and it reminded him far too much of Mos Eisley, writ large. Or maybe Nar Shadda. Lots of people trying to live their lives as best they could with relatively little - this were supposed to be the people they were fighting for. Admittedly, Luke was a bit more sentimental then most, but sitting around and just watching had never been something he enjoyed doing.
Asking around for anyone in need of someone handy with machines or mechanics brought him to the hospital. From what they told him, their elevators were out of service - mainly because they hadn't had the time to spare anyone to fix them. Fortunately, most of them hadn't ID'd Luke as a transport. At least not until he started asking questions. There'd been a few cold shoulders and the temperature of the room had dropped a few degrees when it had come out, but they'd still accepted his offer - albeit with a few glares and whispers.
Now he was elbow deep in the generator that was supposed to power the elevators. They'd been able to give him a collection of tools (unfortunately, there wasn't a single, solitary hydrospanner, but he'd make do) and then left him to it. Luke shifted, adjusting the flashlight between his teeth as he tried to find the problem. The generator itself was in a covered, open area around the back of the hospital and looked like it had been jury-rigged into the building's power system. Just like everything else here.
He glanced up and watched the flow of pedestrians going back and forth, the rain sheeting down just beyond the rigged awning of sheet metal and tarps.
"Hey," he mumbled around the flashlight towards one that had wandered particularly close, "Hand me that screwdriver, would you?"
no subject
Han held out the screwdriver. For once, the condescension usually lining that and related questions was missing. His elbow on the generator, he leaned against it and quirked an eyebrow at Luke.
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Luke leans back over the generator, trying to unscrew a plate so he can get at the motor.
"Figure I might as well do something useful while I'm here."
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"How's that working out for you?"
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He leans in again, teeth gritted as he tries to unscrew a bolt, arms straining as he tries to get it to move.
"I think this one's rusted on-"
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This seems familiar and it's actually rather reassuring. There were a very few times that Han had actually let Luke touch the Falcon, but it had always been learning experience.
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"So how's it going with your parents?" Tact. Han Solo.