lenina-phasma:

techiehux:

[Text #16- Helpful]

To: Captain Phasma

From: Techie

Have you tried jiggling the back? The wires might be loose.

[Sent at 12:00AM]

[Text] It works now! Thank you, Techie! I owe you one. -Phasma 💋

To: Captain Phasma

From: Techie

You’re welcome! Let me know if you need anything else 🙂

[Sent at 11:11PM]

techiehux:

The party was in full swing. Techie wasn’t the type of person to enjoy close-quarter dancing with strangers in a place with music so loud it made even his implants ache, but his dealer set up the meeting spot in this shady nightclub and Techie was already too jittery; he wanted to get his stuff and get the hell out.

Everything went on without a hitch. Techie held the baggy with white powder and a syringe taped under his loose yellow t-shirt, scurrying out of the club before he was discovered. He was sweating bullets, aching for his fix after so long without it. Money was tight, but Techie could afford it if he got on his knees a few times a week.

Two minutes from his tiny apartment, Techie’s bladder complained until he was forced to stop at a gas station for relief. Fuck it, he thinks to himself, near hysterics. He’ll shoot up right here, right now. It’s only a single stall bathroom, anyway. Nobody else can get in. In his rush, Techie leaves the door unlocked and is surprised with the syringe plunged deep into his vein by a tall, muscular woman with short blonde hair.

Shit! 

That’s a relief to hear. But something weighs heavily on Techie’s mind, and he has to get it off his chest. “L-Lenina… I’m a junkie. If you need my help against Toxichem, I think it would be g-good for me to, uh, detox first. Before we do anything else.”

techiehux:

The party was in full swing. Techie wasn’t the type of person to enjoy close-quarter dancing with strangers in a place with music so loud it made even his implants ache, but his dealer set up the meeting spot in this shady nightclub and Techie was already too jittery; he wanted to get his stuff and get the hell out.

Everything went on without a hitch. Techie held the baggy with white powder and a syringe taped under his loose yellow t-shirt, scurrying out of the club before he was discovered. He was sweating bullets, aching for his fix after so long without it. Money was tight, but Techie could afford it if he got on his knees a few times a week.

Two minutes from his tiny apartment, Techie’s bladder complained until he was forced to stop at a gas station for relief. Fuck it, he thinks to himself, near hysterics. He’ll shoot up right here, right now. It’s only a single stall bathroom, anyway. Nobody else can get in. In his rush, Techie leaves the door unlocked and is surprised with the syringe plunged deep into his vein by a tall, muscular woman with short blonde hair.

Shit! 

Techie smiles slightly and takes her hand in a loose handshake before saying, “Thank you. That’s… Y-You’re my first friend in a, uh, long time.”

techiehux:

The party was in full swing. Techie wasn’t the type of person to enjoy close-quarter dancing with strangers in a place with music so loud it made even his implants ache, but his dealer set up the meeting spot in this shady nightclub and Techie was already too jittery; he wanted to get his stuff and get the hell out.

Everything went on without a hitch. Techie held the baggy with white powder and a syringe taped under his loose yellow t-shirt, scurrying out of the club before he was discovered. He was sweating bullets, aching for his fix after so long without it. Money was tight, but Techie could afford it if he got on his knees a few times a week.

Two minutes from his tiny apartment, Techie’s bladder complained until he was forced to stop at a gas station for relief. Fuck it, he thinks to himself, near hysterics. He’ll shoot up right here, right now. It’s only a single stall bathroom, anyway. Nobody else can get in. In his rush, Techie leaves the door unlocked and is surprised with the syringe plunged deep into his vein by a tall, muscular woman with short blonde hair.

Shit! 

Techie stared at Phasma blankly. “I don’t h-have any friends. Not really.” Who the hell would he tell? His dealer?

techiehux:

The party was in full swing. Techie wasn’t the type of person to enjoy close-quarter dancing with strangers in a place with music so loud it made even his implants ache, but his dealer set up the meeting spot in this shady nightclub and Techie was already too jittery; he wanted to get his stuff and get the hell out.

Everything went on without a hitch. Techie held the baggy with white powder and a syringe taped under his loose yellow t-shirt, scurrying out of the club before he was discovered. He was sweating bullets, aching for his fix after so long without it. Money was tight, but Techie could afford it if he got on his knees a few times a week.

Two minutes from his tiny apartment, Techie’s bladder complained until he was forced to stop at a gas station for relief. Fuck it, he thinks to himself, near hysterics. He’ll shoot up right here, right now. It’s only a single stall bathroom, anyway. Nobody else can get in. In his rush, Techie leaves the door unlocked and is surprised with the syringe plunged deep into his vein by a tall, muscular woman with short blonde hair.

Shit! 

He sniffles and wipes at his eyes, clutching onto her for dear life. “Maybe… I c-could help you.” The question was: HOW?

lenina-phasma:

techiehux:

techiehux:

The party was in full swing. Techie wasn’t the type of person to enjoy close-quarter dancing with strangers in a place with music so loud it made even his implants ache, but his dealer set up the meeting spot in this shady nightclub and Techie was already too jittery; he wanted to get his stuff and get the hell out.

Everything went on without a hitch. Techie held the baggy with white powder and a syringe taped under his loose yellow t-shirt, scurrying out of the club before he was discovered. He was sweating bullets, aching for his fix after so long without it. Money was tight, but Techie could afford it if he got on his knees a few times a week.

Two minutes from his tiny apartment, Techie’s bladder complained until he was forced to stop at a gas station for relief. Fuck it, he thinks to himself, near hysterics. He’ll shoot up right here, right now. It’s only a single stall bathroom, anyway. Nobody else can get in. In his rush, Techie leaves the door unlocked and is surprised with the syringe plunged deep into his vein by a tall, muscular woman with short blonde hair.

Shit! 

He slumps back down onto the bed, lips curling downwards. “He’s my twin,” Techie grumbles. “You’ve p-probably confiscated my phone, right? Armitage is m-my emergency contact.”

“No, we didn’t confiscate it. I hate to say this but… Armitage is dead now. He was trying to start an uprising, but they came for him. I tried to save him, but they took him anyway.”

Techie’s eyes go wide. “No… N-no! Shit!” He dissolves into silent sobs, head buried in his hands. Hux was a shitty brother but he was all Techie had, and now he was just… Gone. And Techie hadn’t even known.

techiehux:

The party was in full swing. Techie wasn’t the type of person to enjoy close-quarter dancing with strangers in a place with music so loud it made even his implants ache, but his dealer set up the meeting spot in this shady nightclub and Techie was already too jittery; he wanted to get his stuff and get the hell out.

Everything went on without a hitch. Techie held the baggy with white powder and a syringe taped under his loose yellow t-shirt, scurrying out of the club before he was discovered. He was sweating bullets, aching for his fix after so long without it. Money was tight, but Techie could afford it if he got on his knees a few times a week.

Two minutes from his tiny apartment, Techie’s bladder complained until he was forced to stop at a gas station for relief. Fuck it, he thinks to himself, near hysterics. He’ll shoot up right here, right now. It’s only a single stall bathroom, anyway. Nobody else can get in. In his rush, Techie leaves the door unlocked and is surprised with the syringe plunged deep into his vein by a tall, muscular woman with short blonde hair.

Shit! 

He slumps back down onto the bed, lips curling downwards. “He’s my twin,” Techie grumbles. “You’ve p-probably confiscated my phone, right? Armitage is m-my emergency contact.”