revivalproject | I didn't mean for it to happen

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I didn't mean for it to happen

WHO: Billy, Tommy, Bucky/The Soldier, OTA
WHERE: Temba, YA House
WHAT: The aftermath
WHEN: Early June
WARNINGS: TBD

The Return & What Follows (for Tommy)

Billy screamed, and the world dissolved. The Shadow had shielded him from the worst of it, assaulted by those memories in a non stop barrage for however long they were in there, but now he remembered it all. He dimly registered he was back in his calibration room, hoping he'd managed to release the others before he collapsed heavily onto the floor. He shouldn't have been able to perform that level of magic here. And whatever had allowed it abruptly cut it off with his return, utterly drained from the experience.

He was unconscious, in and out of nightmares for days before he finally jolted awake in a cold sweat, practically tumbling from the bed in his race to the bathroom to retch.

What had he done?

Avoidance [OTA]

Even after he awoke, Billy didn't want to leave the house. He was ashamed and scared, and used the excuse of resting for far longer than was true.

A few faces managed to hunt him down there, and it wasn't like Billy could turn them away, eventually relenting and breaking down a few of those barriers.

After that it was a little easier to venture out. It took a few smaller outing before he was able to get as far as the Hospital, but there at least he could focus on work.

(For Bucky/The Soldier)

Billy knew he probably wanted to stay hidden away as much as he did right now, but after what they'd been through together in the other world, he trusted the man to help him with this. Tommy and the others would refuse, but he was confident Bucky would understand. And he needed to apologize.

His magic was still weak, but it led him to the general location where he was meant to be. Billy couldn't quite meet his eye when he found him, swallowing thickly and looking uncomfortable.

"...Hey. Could we talk?"

Apology- Network- Text

I can't begin to make up for what I put you all through this last month. I had no right, and I'm so sorry you all got caught up in this mess.

I know that doesn't begin to make it right.

They did something to me. Like Calibrations...but worse. I don't know how. And I'm not trying to make excuses for what I did but- I'm scared they'll do it again. To any of us. I thought people should know.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Heh, uh-" Billy laughed a little and bit at his lip as he considered. He hard felt like the best person to explain the whole of Judaism.

"Um, well...we've been through a lot. Historically. And still going through stuff. So-...The big joke is that most of are celebrations and holidays are 'they tried to kill us- let's eat'," he explained with a bashful laugh, "We're uh...a determined people, definitely. Really good food. Wish I'd paid better attention when they were making it, I don't even know where to start...Dad made the best latkes. Mom always burnt them."

"Not a bad way to celebrate something." Slaves barely had anything including food. Celebrating surviving with food, something denied, was a big deal. He understood that idea perfectly. "Food, alcohol, and singing. Those are the big ones for us back home."

It was all they could spare in some cases. Mos Pelgo was better off than it had been but they would never be big and wealthy.

"Latkes. What are those? Maybe we can figure out how to make 'em. I promised Cayde I'd figure out ramen for him." Cobb liked to cook. He could make whatever latkes were.

"They're like potato pancakes," he answered, before realizing those words might not mean much to Cobb. Though his hero-verse self might make that recognizable. "Fried in oil, just...perfect. I could eat a thousand of them."

"You think we could figure it out?" he looked excited, both at the prospect of getting to have a piece of home as well as sharing it with someone else.

"Potatoes, that's pretty easy." Cobb did know them. They didn't grow naturally on Tatooine but farmers had hydroponics and grew Corillean potatoes. "We've got those tubers in the greenhouse. Bet we can use those. Oil to fry in might be tricky."

He scratched at his beard as he took a drink. Yeah, he wasn't sure if they had any reliable source of oil. He'd brought back some when they were on Coruscant but they'd need to come up another way.

"You show me how to cook 'em and I'll do my best." There, that was better. Billy looked more like the warm and friendly kid he shared a ship with. A good kid who just got scared and overwhelmed.

"I could magic some if we need to," he offered. It kind of felt like it invalidated the fun of making them from scratch, but they didn't really have a lot of options, and Billy definitely didn't know how to press oil.

He smiled and nodded, "I'll try and write out what I remember. Kyle probably knows too, I can ask him if he's got a better idea."

"You could also join me in the kitchen if you want. You and Kyle both. I'm gonna need folks to taste 'em and see if they're right." Cobb wanted to get the kid out of the hospital, get back among people, and see that it wasn't as bad as he thought.

No one was going to run him out of town. He still had friends here. Maybe the trust was a little shaky but he didn't have to go to ground like he was.

"We might get somethin' close. A little taste of home is always a good feeling." Cobb tapped his finger against the edge of the glass. The drink was his favorite back home.

"We could do that," he agreed, momentarily looking a little anxious but excited about the idea.

Billy smiled at the gesture and turned his cup in his hands. "I don't drink a lot back home-" as if that weren't obvious "Not really legal yet -but uh...I think you're right, it's not bad when you get used to it."

Cobb was pretty sure the "legal" drinking age was something like eighteen back home but no one really followed those laws. No one really followed any laws back home.

"You're what? Eighteen? Nineteen?" Cobb looked Billy up and down. "You look more than old enough to drink in a cantina back home. No laws here say you can't."

He'd been drinking by fifteen but things were different in a slave commune. "It's made from shrimp they tell me. That's why it's got a salty taste. No idea if it's true or not."

Billy actually hesitated. He'd been here long enough that he wasn't really sure how old he was. "Eighteen plus however time works here?" he concluded with an uncertain shrug, "Might be twenty now??"

Either way- "Technically in my country we're not allowed to drink until we're twenty-one. Most other countries it's lower, and most kids kind of...figure it out anyways, but-"

"Shrimp? Really?" Good thing he'd never really been into keeping kosher. The idea of making alcohol from shrimp definitely seemed weird though, and he tried to think if he'd ever heard of it being made from something like that back home.

Cobb made a face. That seemed unreasonably high and why not twenty? What was the difference in a single year? "That's real old."

He wasn't going to ask why Billy's country was like that. Probably had some long answer that wouldn't matter because Cobb would never end up there.

"Or maybe it's krill? It's some sort of sea bug creature." He held his glass up studying the slightly glowing blue liquid. "We don't make it on Tatooine. Import it. Only native plant you can make alcohol with is a cactus wine. Gotta be careful though if you make it wrong and drink it you'll hallucinate."

Which was not a good thing in a desert wasteland like Tatooine.

"Yeah, I know. Old enough to join the army, but not old enough to drink. America's weird like that." He shrugged. Even Billy'd been drunk more than a few times back home, so it wasn't as though it was working all that well.

"Sounds like absinthe," he noted, and he gave Cobb a curious look, cheeks warm from the drink. "So you're from the same...universe as the...Jedi people, right?"

Sounded like a cruel place to send a kid to die in war but not let him drink. Cobb made another face. Nice to see every place had its own brand of ugliness. At least Billy's home had gotten away from slavery.

"Yeah, we're from the same galaxy. Me, the Jedi, and Mando." It was a large bunch of people which was a little surprising. "But none of them are from my planet. Ezra and Mando are close. Both are from the Outer Rim."

He drew a circle on the table. "You've got the Core Worlds, most civilized planets are there. Real fancy place." He drew a wider circle. "Middle Rim. Not a bad place from what I've heard. Lots of resources come from there." He drew an even wider circle. "Outer Rim, the edge of civilization where you either survive or you die. No mercy in the Outer Rim."

"And that other guy with the droid?" Billy hadn't really met him, but Tommy seemed to like him, "S'alot of you from out there. And the world we saw, that was a core world?" he half guessed, half confirmed.

"Yeah, Poe. Part of the Rebels." Cobb wasn't that excited about the Rebellion. Sure, they'd done some good getting rid of the Empire but he didn't hold out hope they'd truly be any different than the Old Republic.

He nodded. "The biggest, most civilized one. I hated it."

Too many people. Too closed in. Too many eyes on him all the time. No wide open spaces. Coruscant could stay right where it was and keep its brand of civilization to itself.

"New York can be a bit like that. Not on the level of Coruscant, that place was...intense, but-" Billy shrugged and knocked back the rest of his drink, "You miss your world?"

How had the conversation gotten here exactly? He looked accusingly at his cup. Probably the drink.

Always worth blaming the drink for things.

"I do," he said with a little nod. "Never thought I'd miss the sandy hellhole if I ever left it but turns out it's home."

Cobb wished he could bring back the water that was here to Tatooine but other than that this place would never be home. "This place ain't bad but it's a prison. We don't have chains on our ankles, but we're trapped here. Ain't exactly a feelin' I like."

Billy could guess why knowing his background.

"Home's weird like that," he agreed with a small smile. Billy'd gotten a long taste of home with the city he'd made, and he was still home sick. "...Maybe we can find a way to bring more of your world here? The culture, and stuff, not the people," he clarified quickly.

Tatooine culture wasn't kind. It's not easy. It's a survivalist culture. Cobb and his community was brought together because they suffered together. He wasn't going to put people here through that hardship just to make it feel like home.

"Well, I've got some spices and there's a few recipes I'm gonna make. The food from home will ease some of the home sickness." He smiled and jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "Used that replicator to get a home style caf set. Never found one on Coruscant."

Finally, he had caf the way he liked it stronger than alcohol with the kick of an angry ronto.

"Nice. Oh, hey, I don't use my replicator rations often, if you ever need extra for anything, or for the houses?" he offered. "Or...you know, I can magic stuff up, but that's easier when it's stuff I...know."

"Let's see what we can get by with before we start using that thing for food. I'd rather save it for real important things like bacta and other supplies." Cobb had only used the machine once, a little distrustful after he got his strange binocs.

He lifted the bottle to see if Billy wanted a refill on his drink. "You offer that magic service to anyone else?"

Might get him back in some good graces helping out that way.

He pushed his cup forward again, though maybe it wasn't the best idea, he could all ready feel his vision swaying a bit, but what the hell? What harm could one more do?

"Few times. Don't always think about it. I should though."

Cobb had slowed down his drinking a bit. He could feel the warmth of the spotchka working through him. A few more glasses and he'd be pleasantly drunk. Not yet though. Not nearly as intoxicated as Billy.

"If you've got all that power no better use for it than to help people," he mused as he poured. "I don't have any power but I do what I can with what I've got."

He wasn't a Jedi. He wasn't magic like Billy. But he could fix things and look out for people. That was enough to do good with.

"S'what I did back home. Real home, not...the one I made."

His magic shimmered, and Billy's clothes transformed to his Wiccan costume, a bright red hooded cloak, covering a unitard that seemed to show a moving display of the stars.

"Supposed to be a hero...but can't really figure it out here..."

"Now, speaking from personal experience I've never had a hero do much for me." Until Din came along and proved that some folks could be heroes bigger than life. Still, that was a long time before one showed up. Cobb didn't believe in heroes.

"A hero comes in, does somethin' big and then is gone. But the everyday folk who help in little ways day to day, those folks do so much more." He shrugged as he leaned back in his seat.

"If you can't get the big stuff right, try some small stuff instead. It still matters."

The costume faded away again, and Billy nodded, frowning at the table as he tried to absorb the heaviness of those words. His cheeks felt flush from how much he'd drunk, vision swimming unpleasantly when he looked back up at Cobb, wincing a little.

"...Stuff's kinda strong..."

I didn't mean for it to happen

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