OPEN POST • ALL-PURPOSE TEXTING MEME

[notanybunny]

for your TFLNs, overflows and general texting shenanigans

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[forceshadowed]

"I don't know, you look like a runner," Jane teased. "Guess we'll never really know for sure, but maybe after breakfast we can try to shed some light on last night's mysteries."

As mundane an activity as cooking was, she found herself incredibly fascinated, and she watched him go about the task with rapt attention. For one, she'd not seen someone actually cook in a long time. And, well, Cade really didn't seem like the sort of guy who'd be house-trained, most especially with how overtly averse he was to the idea of domesticity and commitment.

In fact, it wasn't until he'd reached out to take a better look at the ring that she averted her gaze back to him instead of what he was doing.

"What makes you so sure I didn't pinch off this baby?" she retorted, smirking. Oh yeah, it did look expensive. With some sweet-talking and perhaps a little persuasion, she could probably fetch a very good price for it. But that wasn't the real reason she wanted to keep the ring, no; it was as simple as wanting to hold on to something she could call her own, something that made her her, because the First Order had blurred so many lines and erased so many facets of herself that some days she really wasn't sure who she was anymore.

And if beneath her TIE pilot helmet Jane was a lonely, broken thing who drank herself blind and slept with a different stranger every night to drown out her sorrow and rage and regret, then so be it. It was better than being TN-3154, better than being the faceless monster the First Order had bred to fight Kylo Ren.

[delayedblast]

Honestly, he was about as house trained as he was self sufficient, but the variable and often lonely life of a smuggler necessitated a few basic skills. Some could tolerate ration packs day in and day out and only developed enough skill with a heating coil to make vegmeat marginally edible. Cade, on the other hand, could barely stand the stuff most of the time. He had them in case of emergencies of for the days when it was all he could do to drag his body to his bunk. But he had made it his calling to find better alternatives, and often had remarkably fresh food on hand.

At the end of the day, he never cooked anything terribly complicated, but he worked pretty well with the handful of spices and the simple fare he kept on hand.

"Well, one of us did," he offered by way of a compromise, shrugging and letting go of the ring. He turned back to the eggs and meat, making quick work of scraping the lot of it around the pan and finally dishing it out into two shallow bowls when the lot of it seemed to have congealed into a fluffy mess.

"Either way, it'd fetch a pretty penny if you decided to fence it." Simple fact. Cade probably knew someone who could do the fencing, even, for a modest finders fee. But he didn't feel the need to spell that part out. Instead he plunked her plate down near her on the table, and his own at the next space. Then he withdrew to go on a fork hunt that covered most of the drawers in the little kitchen space.