Han Solo (dice) wrote in saveatlantisic, @ 2018-09-27 17:51:00 |
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Han was miserable.
That seemed to go without saying for the most part - he was missing Chewie, he missed Leia, he even missed Lando at this point. Luke was here, but Luke seemed to have better things to do with the people he was involved with (which was a massive overstatement and he’d also been avoiding Luke a little bit, but damn it, he was still going to blame him because it was easier than introspection right now). Dive was closed this evening so Han had been forced to relocate to another, less ‘drink until you’re dead’ bar and more ‘drink because you’re enjoying life and out having a nice time with your friends’ bar. He didn’t like living a lie. He didn’t like that even in another world, he’d been an unwilling soldier because he had nothing better to do with his life and then all he’d done was look after animals, one of which was...now at home with the cat who’d appeared on his doorstep one day. None of this really bore thinking about right now.
Han’s consistent problem was that he didn’t actually want to be alone. He often acted the part but even back on the Falcon he had Chewie there and now - now he didn’t have anybody, as far as he felt. His flat was full of people he’d made a concentrated effort to avoid so far and managed to do and now he was out swigging from a bottle of whiskey by the docks, feet dangling over the edge of the wall and his chin resting on one of the railings. He needed a ship, he needed people to take things from and he needed people to bother, not thoughts of missing Lando, Chewie, Leia and even Luke to some extent, who had gone from ‘annoying kid’ to ‘masterful Jedi Knight’ and maybe Han was a little jealous that Luke was so good at making friends and he was only really good at making enemies. And drinking buddies.