Techie squeaked and almost dropped it, catching it again and steadying it upon his lap. “H-Hux! I, ah, I j-just- wanted t-to try it,” he said weakly, eyebrows scrunched up together.
After a little pause, he asked, cautiously optimistic, “W-was I any g-good?”
With some trepidation, he gently took her hand and kissed the top of it as quick as he could. When he pulled back his entire face was alight. “I’m honored t-to be in the band w-with all of you, and I won’t l-let you down!”
Hux watched her pace from his seat beside MP. “You may sit if it pleases you, Sarah. I can make space for one more.”
He adds, “Technical should be out soon.”
“I don’t see why not.” Hux slides to the other end of the seat outside the operating room to make space for MP. Wordlessly, he grabs the second cup of caf and sips from it, distracted, staring off into space.
“Any moment now he’ll be done,” he says after a long silence. Then asks quickly, “Are you a trooper, MP?”
Techie squeaked and almost dropped it, catching it again and steadying it upon his lap. “H-Hux! I, ah, I j-just- wanted t-to try it,” he said weakly, eyebrows scrunched up together.
After a little pause, he asked, cautiously optimistic, “W-was I any g-good?”
He suddenly felt too hot in his own skin. “Uh, Miss Phasma, h-hello!” Techie offered her his hand but suddenly whipped it back towards him, then looked like he was caught between kissing her hand and doing a curtsy.
He settled for just slapping a rigid, toothy smile on his face and standing frozen in front of her.
Women always made him extra nervous.
Techie froze and felt ice run through his veins. Why is Kylo Ren, of all people, talking to him?! The blood is pulsing so hard in his ears that he doesn’t even know what the man is saying, and can only stare blankly at him.
“Um, ah,” he says, very intelligently.
And then bolts for the nearest exit.
“I have to get th-them checked all the time. Once a month at l-least, or they might g-get infected.” Techie pauses and curls in on himself, shoulders hunched. “It’s not pretty,” he confesses, grimacing. “You don’t h-have to look if you don’t w-want to.”
The doctor comes in and get uncomfortably close to Techie’s face, probably spits on him a few times on accident, rattles off a list of questions that he dutifully answers, then asks him to remove his eyes.
“R-really, it’s gross… I don’t m-mind if you look aw-away.”
Technical is currently in the operating room and cannot be visited. An official estimate for when he will be done is unknown, but I’d wager that a few hours at the least.
The procedure is delicate but will most likely not cause him any harm. I request that you keep him in your thoughts anyways.
Hux.
[T3CH13N1C1@N posted at 2:44PM]
TechieHux 