fandomhigh | Shop class open house, Tuesday, period 3

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Shop class open house, Tuesday, period 3

It'd been a trying several days, but if there was one thing Fandom excelled at, it was picking itself up and dusting itself off, and getting back to business as usual. For the students, that meant the last week of classes. For the shop students, it was their day to shine.

After rather a lot of cursing and yelling and beating on things that Hardison would pout at him for later, Eliot had finally managed to coax the shop into a fancy museum opening setting, with pedestals and gallery spaces for the students to set up and show off their work. There was a table of refreshments off to the side, and Eliot had on a tweed jacket over his usual button down shirt and jeans.

He'd felt like dressing all civilized-like this week, oddly enough. Even spent a bit of time putting a pair of tiny braids into the hair just behind his ears, something he hadn't bothered with since Leverage was still working out of Nate's apartment back in Boston. Honestly, he'd had a lot of time on his hands.

It wasn't like he was sleeping.

[ooc: because folks quite possibly need something they don't recognize their friends in to hit, welcome to the Evil Shop Plot post! OCD is up, post is open to any and all comers.]

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"See, I don't get why everyone around here insists on calling it 'space' anything," Kanan noted, crouching low and then jumping up and over what kind of looked like an AT-AT, if AT-ATs were human-sized and rolled around on tank treads. He carved a neat line across the top of it as he went, landed in a crouch, and just kind of took for granted that the thing was throwing sparks and malfunctioning before moving on to the next robot. Jedi were annoying that way. "I can use my lightsaber when I'm planetside just as well as I can in space."

And the Force just as well as his lightsaber.

"Weird Earth thing?"

"Weird Earth thing," Eliot conceded. The sparking malfunctioning thing wasn't going down fast enough and looked set to light some of the wood carvings on fire. Eliot drove it back with a couple good bashes and finally managed to kick it into a junk pile. "Got that one for you. You're welcome."

"I got him started for you," Kanan called back, turning and doubling back with his saber out, cleaving another robot in two along the way. "What is that thing you're swinging around, anyway?"

Not that he'd swap for his lightsaber, no, but it looked like it had some nice heft to it.

"Yeah, but you didn't finish it. That's just sloppy, kid." Eliot hefted and spun the club, then took a whack at something that looked like it was made out of a bear trap and an old powerwheels toy. "It's a golf club. Stupid sport. Great equipment."

"Sloppy," Kanan muttered, dropping down and sweeping the bottom out from some ridiculous contraption that was bouncing along on a pogo stick. Sure. "Third time I've used this thing in almost a decade and he calls me sloppy."

Them's the breaks, padawan. Master Billaba would have said the same thing.

"So, you're beating apart droids using sports equipment, huh? I suppose if it works..."

"I like to improvise." Sports equipment, flaming logs, the occasional appetizer. . . . "Never know when you're gonna have to fight in the middle of a junkyard."

Or on ice. Or in zero-g. Or -- well, you got the point.

Fighting in zero-g happened way more often than one might think.

"I want to say this is a first for me, but," he deflected some laser fire that was heading his way, the third shot bouncing back and blowing the head clean off the robot that had been firing it. "I've gotten into big, stupid fights in stranger places."

With meaner robots.

Droids.

Dammit.

"Who hasn't?" It was almost an honest question. Eliot knew there were people in the world who didn't regularly find themselves facing at least a team of hired goons on a regular basis, but he didn't really understand them.

"From the look of it, at least a few of your students," Kanan noted. "Good. They shouldn't have that kind of experience behind them."

Just so long as they got out of here in one piece. That would be better still.

Eliot actually stopped to shoot Kanan a look at that. "Not that I'm disagreein'," he said. "But you've met Fandom, right?"

And Kanan actually paused to roll his eyes.

"Yeah, there's a reason I've been trying to get off the karking island since I got here," he replied. "Doesn't mean we should expect a bunch of kids in a shop class to be any better at fighting than I am at... I don't know. Golf."

Kanan, you were a Jedi. You would probably be fantastic at golf.

"Funny. That's exactly the reason I been staying." Because the regular adrenaline rushes and challenges to his skills totally had nothing at all to do with it. "The kids'll surprise ya, though. Even the ones who ain't fighters."

"Kids usually do," Kanan sighed. He threw out his hand and shoved another robot into the one beside it, a chainsaw blade digging deep into a shoulder joint as a result. "And do you think the reason I want to go is entirely to save my neck?"

He was trouble. He knew he was trouble. He'd walked away from people who were far more capable of watching their backs than the kids here, because of it.

"What, you plannin' on taking everyone with you?"

Eliot had no reason to think Kanan was any more dangerous than anyone else on the island.

"I was actually hoping to do the opposite," Kanan muttered. "If taking everybody with me was the game plan, I probably would have kept those explosives I got here with."

He frowned and lowered his saber as the robots started to flicker in and out of existence around them.

"Sure as hell wouldn't have gone traipsing up a narrow stairwell to help you guys take down a psychotic version of the school principal."

Eliot nudged another saw robot with his golf club. The saw didn't even scratch it, so he tried with the toe of his boot.

Same.

The safeties were back on.

"Just what exactly are you tellin' me, here, Kanan?" he asked, the teasing tone from the fight gone over to concern.

Kanan shook his head, shut off his lightsaber, and gave it a quick twist between his hands, separating it into two pieces again.

"I don't stay anywhere for long," he said, the same way he'd said dozens of times before. This time he added, "because if I don't keep running, people get hurt."

Eliot very nearly rolled his eyes. Lord save him from smart guys with giant egos. "Right, so all this is your fault, then?"

Please, pardon Kanan while he reaches up to pinch the bridge of his nose and just sighs.

"Space, no." He was allowed to use space because he had a ship and wasn't from Earth. That was the way it worked. "This is... I have no karking clue what this is. Your junkyard drove the equipment insane or something. There is no way I'm taking responsibility for this."

His ego leaned in other directions, mostly.

"But you're saying you gotta leave," Eliot pointed out. "Because clearly your being here is, what, making Fandom worse?"

He would pelt you with logic as long as it took, Kanan.

"That isn't quite what I'm saying either," Kanan muttered, shaking his head. "I'm saying..."

He sighed and muttered something absolutely filthy under his breath in Huttese.

"I'm saying I'm running from something, and that something could cause problems down the road. Especially since somebody knows I'm here."

Eliot nodded. "Alright, I get that." He had plenty of enemies who wouldn't mind tearing through Fandom to get to him, after all. "I'd say you're better off somewhere most folks know how to handle a crisis, but hell, I dunno who your enemies are. I do know runnin', though. And I know it ain't worth half what we got here."

Kanan... shrugged. Such a little, dismissive sort of gesture, while his mind ticked through a half-dozen different things to say, and whether he was willing to say them in the middle of the Danger Shop not ten minutes after it had been trying to kill them.

Not that the Jedi part was exactly a secret anymore, granted.

"They're... they're big. Bigger than Fandom. Bigger than the people on it. Bigger than this planet. And they don't like that they didn't finish the job back when they exterminated an entire order of galactic peacekeepers."

"That big, huh. All after just one guy. Movin' around a force that big takes a lot of resources. You must be a pretty important person, they willing to send all that after you. Or are they just that stupid?"

"I'm not important," Kanan sighed. "What I represent is. It's a memory, it's an idea. It's hope in a galaxy they've spent nearly a decade systematically erasing hope from. And they don't need to send the entire Empire after me to do it. They'd do just as good a job sending that Sith back."

Maybe explain that one a little better, Dume.

"The one who knows I'm here. I think right now he's using that knowledge to get leverage over one of the students."

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