ÐJ @ColdCodebreaker

I'd just like to take this time to express that @rianjohnson is my favorite now and everyone who's trying to call him out even though he made a great movie can catch these hands.

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ÐJ @ColdCodebreaker

8 years ago

Is tired and drunk, but has pockets full of jewelry from nearly everyone around him, so he won't complain.

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ÐJ @ColdCodebreaker

8 years ago

His promises for his past self would be made true some other day, but not now... For now, drink.

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sort of monster had he let himself become...? Just... ... Just one more swig. ... Then another. Followed by one more. ... Then another until he finished the bottle. Until his emotions were gone and he felt like he was floating. He refused to let the guilt touch him. -

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ÐJ @ColdCodebreaker

8 years ago

If he wasn't the bad guy why did he do such terrible things? If he had no blood on his hands he let all those resistance fighters die? If he was so free to do as he pleased why didn't he save a single first order officer as he flew away from their destroyed ship? What -

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ÐJ @ColdCodebreaker

8 years ago

the way. Just like it should be. He was free. Free and clear. No blood on his hands. The Codebreaker sets the bottle down, looking away as a small feeling, one that left a horrible taste in his mouth, hit him. He didn't often feel it, but he knew it for what it was... Guilt.-

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ÐJ @ColdCodebreaker

8 years ago

he was delt as a kid. Even if his odds have improved since, he wears that look well, from his hole riddled boots to the steel plaque that sits on his hat, a reminder of who he was. He was in the middle. Not good or bad. He didn't hurt anyone. Nobody hurt him and he kept out of -

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ÐJ @ColdCodebreaker

8 years ago

him. He'll clean up and be happy again before he comes, he swears. Just one last swig. And his clothes? Oh they looked decrepit. A later of filth covering his coat, and a smell coming of it that was a dead give away for where he slept. He looked like poverty and the poor hand -

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ÐJ @ColdCodebreaker

8 years ago

a grey hair or two would pop up, reminding him of his age. It seemed unfair. That some creatures could live for a thousand years or more and yet he stood to die in twenty years, ten even? But life wasn't fair. It was a fickle mistress DJ couldn't conquer. Death would come for -

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ÐJ @ColdCodebreaker

8 years ago

cell. Inside he was safe. He was already there. It seemed better from his distorted view. He felt unsafe now in some smugglers home, but he could make it better. Just one last swig. His hair was rougher than he face at this point. It was losing colour daily and every so often -

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ÐJ @ColdCodebreaker

8 years ago

That was the price of living so many years sleeping in cells, all the lost sleep caught up to him over time. Maybe he should invest in more nights in hotel rooms, or maybe he can only sleep in cells now... What paranoia might come over him. He could get caught outside of a -

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ÐJ @ColdCodebreaker

8 years ago

as soon as his worn, aged hands picked up the bottle, shaking as he brought it to his lips. Damn he looked rough. Not ruggedly handsome, but rough, ruined. New wrinkles seemed to find their way onto his face every day, and the bags under his eyes only seemed to get bigger. -

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ÐJ @ColdCodebreaker

8 years ago

One last swig. One last swig and then he'd stop and shape up... That's what he promised the man who stared back at him through the mirror above the bathroom sink. It was the same promise he had be making for the last twenty years and a promise he knew that he would break -