Who: Jaina Solo, Lord Halarry! What: ...random log of randomness, I believe we called it? Uh, talking. Where: Roof patio of Jaina's apartment building. When: Backdated to just after Jaina's drunkpost. Why: Because reasons?? IDEK! Rating: Probably not high.
Jaina wasn't terribly convinced that anything was going to get better. It had been a slow-building sort of change from her usual determined optimistic realism, and now it was getting harder to even think through the here and now and not see just more of the multiverse screwing them over. It seemed like it was sentient and actually hated them, sometimes. A lot of the time. Pretty much always.
And who "them" was, well, it was getting harder to tell that, too. At this point, it was starting to just mean "everyone", because she wasn't selfish enough to think she was the only one who felt like things might not ever get better. She wasn't the only one who had been screwed over by ...life, or something.
Jaina didn't often decide it was a good idea to drink enough to be drunk - enough for her filter to be thin, though thankfully not completely gone, because she'd managed to be at least semi-tactful, and not just go blurting out to everyone about Jacen and Tahiri and the imminent child and all of that.
Of course, she was pretty sure that Sober Jaina would not have allowed a vampire that no one seemed to trust anymore (some kind of split personality issue, or at least that's what she'd gathered) come anywhere near her, let alone do the "listening ear" thing. But right now she wasn't Sober Jaina - right now she was Drunkish Jaina, and she was tired of talking to herself or her cat or putting words on a screen or holding it all in... and he'd offered when she just so happened to be in the mood to accept. She wasn't going to be stupid, no, she wasn't letting him inside her place, and she had her lightsaber, and if it got weird she knew she could purge the alcohol from her blood in a few minutes, be Sober Jaina again easily enough...
...so she didn't feel very worried, wandering up to the roof patio, lightsaber on her belt and two glasses in her hands, plunked down on the table semi-carefully, and she dropped into the chair facing the roof entrance. She was still in the hazy-but-functional stage, and she was glad she didn't do this often because it was nice - it wasn't perfect, because she could still remember things and all the problems were still there, looming, and she still had that stupid weird hollow place where a stupid angel was supposed to be, but there was also a disconnect, like it was all someone else's problems and lonliness and general fate bitchery. Not hers. It was easier to talk about, this way.
Waiting, she took her phone out. Tahiri was too sweet; Jacen was so clearly trying. She just felt like none of it mattered. They still did, of course they did - if they didn't, it would be easier - but it didn't matter if they fixed things because in a month, a year, five years, they'd be just as bad or worse or one or all of them would be dead, so... why? Was it really better to have something good for a while and let it be taken away?
Her connection to Jacen was so thin now, it may as well have been gone, and she knew she'd done that. She'd never really closed it off, not really, but she withdrew. Every time he said something that hurt, she pulled away a little more. And she wanted to fix that - she did, because she missed the way it was - but she also wasn't sure she could do it. She loved him, but there was a large part of her that was still really upset with him. Hurt. Angry. She wanted to be more angry; it would be easier if she could just be mad. He had practically made a hobby of hating Gabriel and telling her she wasn't making a good choice - and yet expected her to be supportive when he and Tahiri were ...this. Whatever they were, now.
But she wasn't angry enough, and she didn't hate Tahiri, and it was all stupid complicated.
The roof door opened, then, dragging her attention away from her thoughts and the little screen in her hand, and over towards it.