Entry tags:

inactive: cal kestis, inactive: francis barton

Who: Cal Kestis & Francis Barton
What: Looking for parts, saving lives
When: Saturday afternoon
Where: Scrapyard
Rating: Low
Status: Complete | Log

The scrapyard was becoming one of Francis’ favourite places to be. He could find bits of scrap to make his arrows with, and he was playing around with new ideas. He liked being independent, and not reliant on anyone for his weapons, and there were enough things here that he’d been able to make some rudimentary tools. Not much, and he needed to probably steal some better tools to set himself up somewhere here so he could make himself a proper workstation that wasn’t quite so risky to his fingers and eyes.

Still, today was not a day for making but a day for finding. He had a backpack and was picking his way through the scrapyard for things. He was half in a car when he heard the sound of movement above him. His first instinct- as it always was- was to tense ready for a fight and moved quickly out of the car, but got his foot caught as he did. It groaned a little and something under the car shifted, causing him to fall down the pile of scrap that had taken him ten minutes to climb and scavenge through.

As he hit the ground, dazed and winded with parts of him hurting enough that he was struggling to force himself to his feet (damn, falling was just as painful as he remembered), he glanced up to see the unbalanced car creaking and groaning as it nudged its way out of the pile and falling straight towards him.

The scrapyard wasn't quite what Cal wanted, but it would have to do. The search for parts wasn't exactly going well so he decided to take a break to work on his form. BD watched from his normal vantage point on the Jedi's back. The humming of the lightsaber filled his ears as he went from one strike to the next. Thrust, parry, dodge- this would have been more fulfilling if he had someone to go up against, but he would make do. He could feel the irritation of sweat forming on his temples as he over exerted himself, the wound in his side screaming in reminder that it was barely healed. He paused half way through a move went he sensed something.

BD screeched as he heard metal grinding in a sound he was familiar with. Something was about to fall. Cal reacted without a second thought. The young Jedi Knight took off running, relying on the Force to jump a greater distance than normally humanly possible. He ran across the top of a pile and saw the danger ahead of him. Well, it wasn't like the Empire was here…. Cal threw himself forward and yanked his second lightsaber into his freehand. He nearly collided with the car just as it fell. Purple streaked through the air as he cross slashed the metal. He twisted, kicking off a section of the car, flipping so he could land in front of the guy on the floor. The car hit the ground on either side of them just as Cal turned his lightsabers off.

BD let out a long whistle like noise that had Cal wincing. "Uh, no, I did not think of shoving it out of the way. Come on, that was way more fun," he countered. BD sighed before agreeing that the murder of the car was more fun. Cal reached up to run his hand through his hair as he turned to face the kid that had almost been squashed.

"Hey, you okay," he held out his gloved hand to help him up.

Francis barely had time to register what was happening other than that this might be how he died (and fuck that sucked: he’d spent years surviving the worst Ultron could throw at him only to be taken down by his own fucking clumsiness) before there was a bright light above him and a humming sound that sounded electric, like the robots Ultron used as they flew overhead and the car was sliced apart and kicked away.

He’d grabbed an arrow out of reflex, holding it defensively until the light swords were gone and the guy - red-head with a scar on his face and a beeping, uh, robot (? what the fuck was with this place and robots?) on his shoulder - was holding a hand out to help him up.

“Uh- yeah,” he said, getting to his feet with assistance and rolling his shoulder. Man, that was going to bruise. As he got to his feet and took a step back just out of habit (and because, robot) he replayed what he’d seen. “That was quite a rescue,” he admitted with a nod of his head. “Never seen swords that can do that before.”

Cal tried to keep his stance relaxed to show he didn't mean any harm. BD was curious, but didn't move from his perch. It was the fact his weapons were called swords that had the young scarred Jedi grinning. "Not many people have seen them, here at least." He had spent five years hiding a lightsaber and now he had a chance to use them freely, but this was the first moment he had used them in Goodland in front of someone. No one knew who or what he was, still didn't. His shoulders raised in a shrug before he moved to examine one half of the car.

"Anything?" The small droid jumped off his shoulder and scrambled into the car. Cal used his gloved hand to rest against the car, careful of the hot metal, and waited patiently. BD chirped from inside and a few sparks flew. "Yeah, I know, watch out," there was no point hiding his powers now so he lifted his free hand up and focused. A loud pop echoed in his ears before the car radio flew out of the car and into his hand. "Got it." He glanced towards the guy he saved and frowned slightly.

"You aren't scrapping stuff like this are you? I kind of need this." BD reappeared and jumped onto Cal, scrambling until he was once again perched comfortably in his normal spot. A few beeps and a headbutt later and Cal was rolling his eyes. "I know," he directed to the pushy mechanical creation before glancing towards the other guy. "Name's Cal."

Francis was used to being on the outside of conversations - James and his siblings often devolved into stories or in-jokes around him - but normally he understood both parts of the conversation. As far as he knew, or could tell, the robot was just beeping and having a conversation with Cal who was replying to him like they were talking properly, not just… beeping like a cat meowed and Cal was responding to what he assumed was being said.

Weird.

And then suddenly there was a show of powers, what looked like telekinesis as Cal summoned a radio to himself. He looked at the part, then at the robot that was hopping back up Cal’s shoulder and chirping at him to the red-head and wondered if he looked as impressed, confused and concerned as he was. He cleared his throat and smoothed out his expression.

“Cool powers,” he said. “I’m Francis, and no, I’m not looking for that stuff. Help yourself. I’m looking for- other stuff.” Because that was better than telling a stranger what he was doing.

He did keep eyeing the robot like he was expecting it to grow lasers of its own and shoot him in the face, a tension in his shoulders. Robots were bad news.

Cal nodded and didn't push for more information. He knew what it was to play stuff close to the chest. He had done that for five long years so he could respect not wanting to share more than had to be shared. It looked like his attention was going to the radio, but he was very aware of what Francis was doing. He turned the car part over until he found the seam he wanted. Just as he was about to yank the plastic and metal apart he heard a noise. Instinct took over and he was sliding into place between whatever had caused the noise and Francis. The hilts of lightsabers were in his hands as he waited for some monster or Imp to appear.

What appeared was hardly terrifying.

Cal let out a shaky laugh as a cat strolled into view, dragging a piece of wire that was making the noise. He flexed his fingers against the reassuring metal of his blades before he finally lowered his arms. Note to self: still on edge. He shifted to clip his lightsabers behind his back and let out a mild sound of pain as the muscles in his chest took that chance to remind him that he had almost died.

BD trilled just as Cal lifted a hand. A green canister shot up in the air from the droid that he caught easily enough as if he did this all the time. He didn't think twice about taking the stim and using it dull the pain. Once he felt the relief of the medicine he moved to pick up the discarded radio. "...that's one way to get it open," he muttered at the now damaged casing.

At the sound of something skittering near them and the way Cal went tense, it was an instinctive reaction for Francis to grab what weapons he had on him, knife held expertly in his hand and arrow in the other, ready to throw either one if needs be, but he did notice how Cal moved in front of him and he pushed down on the wave of irritation that rippled through him at the assumption he couldn’t take care of himself. It wasn’t completely smoothed away when the sound appeared to be a harmless cat and Francis couldn’t help thinking if he’d had his bow with him, he’d probably have shot it out of reflex. He did tend to shoot first, as questions later. It was a safer way to live.

He watched the robot give Cal something green that he jabbed himself with and felt his eyebrow lift. Drugs? Well, whatever it was it was the guy’s own business.

“What’re you scrapping for?” he asked, looking down at the broken radio, unable to stop himself from shifting his gaze to the robot again just in case it moved. He slid the arrow back into the long pocket against his thigh (since he was in his original clothes, not the new ones Cooper had bought for him) but didn’t pocket the knife. “Hopefully it’s not broken. I mean, if you wanted to use it as a radio it’s fucked.”

Not quite the drugs Francis was thinking, though Cal would probably feel it when he ran out of stims. He had been relying heavily on them for awhile now and the Advil on this planet wasn't going to come close to dulling the pain. "Parts to make a speech modulator for this guy named Tony. Said I would." Deft fingers yanked the radio open so the electronics were exposed. BD perked up and immediately started scanning the guts of the radio.

"Brweep," the droid remarked before Cal raised his fist for BD to give him a fist bump. "Good job, buddy." He yanked some parts free so he could put them into his belt pouch.

"It's going to take awhile. Nothing is exactly what I need so I'm going to have to craft things." He let out a faint sigh just before stretching slightly, twisting so his back cracked ever so faintly. Cere would have been giving him a look for that motion. "Guess it gives me something to do so I don't start throwing myself buildings out of boredom."

“Tony Stark?” Francis asked, perking up a little at the name of someone he knew. He knew Tony. Tony had taken James in, as he should have done considering the relationship they had in the world he came from. He wondered how well Harley and James knew each other. He’d have to ask. “What does he need a speech modulator for?” What was a speech modulator? Too many really smart people here. Even James was one of them. Francis often felt like he should just hang out in the corner shoving crayons up his nose.

He paused, adding, “I throw myself off buildings for fun. I’d suggest that instead of throwing yourself into them.”

"Yeah. I ran into him on the roof," Cal said in a slightly distracted tone as glanced towards the pile of discarded items that the car had hurtled off of. "2-Dum wants to talk like my droid here." BD let out a greeting noise to prove the conversation was about him. "So I said I could help...but the tech on this planet is something."

A startled laugh escaped Cal as he turned to look at Francis. "I mean I have thrown myself at buildings before. At people too… into firefights. Sometimes you just have to throw yourself." His lips quirked into a half-smirk as he shrugged. "Tony keeps inviting me for food so I feel like I actually have to make progress." MJ mentioning that Tony liked to adopt people had him worried about attachment forming. He was better off on his own, even if he had needed his makeshift family back home to help him survive so many things. His smirk wavered as the pang of loneliness he often felt in this place hit him again. BD let out a low sound before tapping him under the chin.

Francis just pressed his lips together. Robots. More robots. Did no one ever learn? Ultron had started as a robot and he’d taken over the world and killed everyone. He just shook his head, deciding that he wasn’t going to talk about robots because Cal was clearly close with his. Still, he side-eyed the ‘droid’ suspiciously and stayed a good couple of steps away.

“Tony’s not gonna stop inviting you for food,” Francis said knowingly, though he hadn’t had an invite in a while. “He’s got a big heart and likes to make sure people who don’t have families here feel included.”

Cal made a face at the thought Tony was going to keep inviting him over food. "He is better off not associating with trash like me," and that was the truth. He was a wanted fugitive, one of a dying breed of peacekeepers, and people were better off without getting close to him. Sure, the Empire wasn't around, but what if they did show up?

He rolled his shoulders to brush the unwanted feelings and thoughts aside. "I'll get the project done and then do what I do best, keep my head down. I don't want to be included." A faint lie. The crew of the Mantis had shown him what he was missing- Trust only in the Force. "I'll be fine."

Francis resisted rolling his eyes: that sounded like something James would say when he was being melodramatic as all fuck. Tony didn’t just reach out to people because he felt like it otherwise he’d have adopted all the kids that just cropped up out of nowhere and tried to take them off the kids’ floor. Francis himself was testament to the fact that nope, that wasn’t a thing.

“Pretty sure he can choose which trash he does and doesn’t wanna hang out with,” Francis said, waving a hand at Cal, then at himself. “Case in point.”

He shrugged. “The guy’s not used to hearing no and when he wants something to happen it always happens. No one’s expecting you to suddenly start calling him dad and living in his pocket or whatever. But he’s a good guy. Can’t hurt to go to his family dinner or whatever the fuck it is that he’s calling it. But whatever, it’s your call.”

Cal blinked as he took in what Francis was saying. He sensed some mild resentment, but he could be wrong. He knew enough not to pry into whatever was going on between Tony and this guy.

"Right," was what he settled on saying. People getting close to him could be seen as a hindrance. He stayed alive for all those years because he didn't have anyone- except the memory of Prauf bubbled up in his head and he felt the rising panic. His heart beat faster for a moment as he tried to shove that down. This wasn't the time or place to get lost in the mistakes that killed his friend.

"I knew a guy who hated hearing no. Stabbed me with my own weapon. Doubt Tony will go full Sith on me… just weird to have someone pay attention. I'll think it over…"

Why were things suddenly getting so complicated?

“Ouch, yeah, no, Tony’s not about to stab you with your fancy light sword,” Francis reassured quickly, wondering what the guy’s damage was. It was clearly different to what he and James had lived through, and he respected the sort of dark humour that came from someone who’d spent their lives - either all of it or most of it - in a sense of heightened awareness for their own safety. “I mean, he might try and take it apart to see how it works?”

“Lightsaber,” Cal corrected without a second thought. “And, kriff, no. Tony doesn’t even know I have these. Uh, actually so far just you do.” He flashed Franics a smirk, “Guess that means you control my fate.” His words were a mixture of sarcasm and seriousness. Tony wasn’t going to get his hands on the lightsabers. The blades were a part of him and no Jedi would just hand over their blades to some unknown.

“You seem to know a lot about Tony,” he said in an attempt to change the topic.

Francis’ eyebrow arched. “Guess that means you gotta be nice to me,” he shot back immediately and followed it with a smirk of his own to show that he wasn’t really a threat. “Fuck, I’m not gonna say anything. You just pretty much saved my life, figure the least I can do is keep your whole… fancy sword secret.”

He shrugged. “Yeah, I mean, not this one. My best friend was raised by a version of him from our world. So I know a lot by proxy.”

An actual laugh escaped Cal at that remark. “Guess so,” he fired back as he walked over to part of the damaged car. He jumped up easily enough and spun around so he could sit down. One leg was drawn up, while the other dangled, and he wrapped his arms around the bent knee. “Appreciated. Not like the Imps are here, but I am not taking chances.”

Best friend. That was a phrase he only used towards BD and Cal was ashamed to admit he kind of wished he had a best friend. The old ways of the Jedi were pretty much gone, that wasn’t a lie, but he was trying to still be a worthy Knight of the Order. That meant not having friends or attachments. “Got it. Is your best friend here and happy to see this Tony?”

“The imps?” Francis asked, not sitting down or getting too comfortable. That cat - and the way they’d both reacted to it - had put him on edge along with the falling and almost getting crushed by a car. He had to be more careful. He couldn’t always rely on someone being there to save him.

He shrugged. “Yeah, I mean, I think so. I’ve not been here long, but Tony’s important to him so I think he’s glad he’s here. Dunno how much time they spend together though. None of my business.”

“Imperials,” Cal supplied since most of his secrets were already out right now. It wasn’t like Francis would know who they were. “Not good guys. We don’t get along.” He may have looked like he was relaxed, but he was ready to spring into action at any moment. His lips twitched as he recognized that attitude in the other guy. Yeah, that was one he had embraced for so long on a larger scale. The galaxy hadn’t been his business.

“I haven’t been here long either. Living with people I don’t know, still getting used to this place. Disney was...different.”

“Disney was somethin’ else,” Francis drawled, not wanting to admit that he’d kind of been impressed by the place and though the rides hadn’t been as exhilarating as freefalling or winning a fight, it had been the closest thing to it he’d found here outside of the free running he’d been doing with James. “Good food, though.” Because he had enjoyed that and wasn’t worried about sharing that detail. “Kinda sucks some of that stuff isn’t here.”

“Yeah, good food.” Greez would have loved to try the food, but he would have been complaining about the place probably. The captain seemed to think everything was out to kill him despite Cal having yet to witness such a thing. “Wouldn’t mind some of the rides again.”

Goodland was pretty tame compared to what he was used to and some of the rides had given him that rush. Sure, it wasn’t jumping out of the Mantis straight into a firefight, but it had still been enough to get his adrenaline going at times. “I liked the ice cream sandwiches a lot.”

“Yeah,” Francis said, “me too. And the weird shaped pretzels.” They didn’t have any of that kind of variety where he came from, the reality of it was that there was no food production so most things were novel to him here, and he’d stuck to a relatively limited food palette only exploring here and there. Twenty year old army rations were gross at the best of times.

Cal was used to a pretty simple palette as well. He merely gave a nod about the pretzels. Yeah, those had been good too. Salty. Right up Greez’s alley. “They might have something like them here. I’ll have to hunt for them. If I find any, should I let you know?” He tapped his fingers against his shin as he raised an eyebrow. “You don’t know me, but you have one up on me so may as well share a mutual want of those pretzels, right?”

“Sure,” Francis said after a moment, watching Cal like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop before he just nodded and slipped his knife back into the back of his trousers, sliding his hands into his pockets and lifting his shoulders. “You can reach me on the network or whatever. Mighta grown up at the end of the world but I can at least read.”

Cal merely grinned as he gave a faint nod. That was progress. Francis seemed like an okay person and the Force wasn’t screaming at him not to trust the kid, so he was just going to roll with it for now. He had nothing else going on in this place, besides maybe Tony taking too much interest in him. “Sounds good. If you need any more demonstrations of my lightsabers, let me know. Network or whatever to reach me as well.”

“Sure,” he said again, rocking back on his heels and taking a step backwards, getting ready to leave. He would probably want to get some ice on his back where he’d fallen. He could probably get some from the eighth. The adults that lived there were more focused on the younger kids anyway. And Clint and Natasha would ask too many questions. “Good luck getting the rest of your shit, I think falling on my ass is my cue to quit for today.”

Not forgetting his manners, he added a quiet, “thanks for the save, Cal.”