[ Just Bob. A name that's straight to the point, much like its owner. Nobody has called Bob by his full name for a long, long time, and he's alright with that. 'Robert' reminds him of his dad, and that's a pointless waste of thinking space. Still, he's not got a reason to not share his name. It's already all over the network and only a small amount of digging would unearth that.
The fidgeting starts up though, Bob's inability to keep still surfacing as he digs a hand into his pocket and produces a pack of cigarettes. Anything to keep his hands busy. Wordlessly, he offers one to Ronan. ]
Look, I know I've never met you before, yeah, or your partner, but I am honestly really sorry. Tell him sorry for me, yeah?
[ Ronan has no interest, really, in investigating Bob's identity. He asks because it's good to have a name to call someone, especially when you're indebted to them. Shaking his head in refusal to the cigarette offer, he drops his gaze to the lightsaber again. ]
If he comes back, I'll let him know it was an accident.
[ Unlit cigarette hanging unclassily out of his mouth, Bob doesn't have the chance to spark up before Ronan's words catch his attention. He's a curious man, not exactly nosy, but questions file up into a queue in his brain until he feels like he's about to burst.
The cigarette is plucked from his mouth again, still unlit as he frowns at the man who's back to inspecting the lightsaber. ]
[ No one was really exaggerating about how Kylo might react to the theft of his property. They weren't wrong, either, about Ronan being the better recipient. He sighs, a sound that carries with it the weariness of many sleepless nights. ]
[ Not bothering now to even try lighting up the cigarette in his mouth, Bob lets it drop into his hand as his expression pulls into a tighter frown. All he'd been expecting was a bit of verbal abuse, maybe a scuffle. Not this. ]
Fuck, I'm sorry, mate. Didn't know...
[ It doesn't make a difference either way, but he can empathise. He doesn't know Ronan well enough to assume anything he says is going to be helpful, so he doesn't say anything more, just gently pats the taller man on the shoulder and jams both hands into his pockets. ]
[ Much as he would love to take out his rage on something, the target isn't going to be the person who returned Kylo's lightsaber to him without hesitation or demand. He doesn't know whether or not Bob is a good person, but it's clear enough that he's a kind one. ]
[ It's a fair point, Bob hasn't heard anything other than people telling him who the lightsaber belongs to and how likely Kylo Ren might be to kick his arse for having it. But it doesn't sound like that's a thing that's going to happen and for a moment, Bob actually thinks that the arse kicking might have been better than somebody just... not being here anymore. Especially if he's got people here who blatantly care about him. Missing people not being around anymore isn't any fucking fun and he wouldn't wish that on anyone. ]
Nah, you don't owe me anything. Don't worry about it. [ A pause, and then because Bob doesn't know what else he can do: ] Uh, is there anything I can do? [ Usually he'd suggest a pint (or ten) but he's not sure alcohol is helpful in this situation. ]
Not unless you happen to find the owner of this sword.
[ Much as Ronan would love to continue drowning his sorrows in alcohol, there's an insane plan he needs to enact, and it requires him to be mentally present in some capacity. Once more clutching the lightsaber against his heart, he retreats a step, like he means to walk away, though he won't be walking at all. ]
If you can do that, I'll owe you my whole damn life.
Wish I could, mate. Only thing I know I can do without properly fucking up is finding places I've never been to without maps and that.
[ Places that aren't even on maps, too. At least, he can't find people yet, but give him time. He looks genuinely regretful at his shortcomings, like he'd give a lot to be able to lend the bloke a helping hand. Tucking his unlit cigarette behind one ear, he pulls his comms device from his jacket pocket and holds it up. ]
You've got my network ID, yeah? Give me a bell if you ever need to find a place. ...or if your shit goes missing. I'm uh... working on not accidentally doing that.
[ Ronan nods, a simple gesture of acknowledgement and gratitude. He doubts he'll need those services, but it's good to know where to look if some other precious possession goes missing. ]
Thanks again.
[ Then Ronan is gone. Not vanished, because time has bent strangely around the precise moment of his leaving, and left in his place is the sense that maybe the entire interaction was imagined all along.
Even if it was, the lightsaber has gone with him. ]
[ Double-taking at the space Ronan had been standing, Bob's first instinct is to look over his shoulder. He doesn't really know why he does it, just knows that what's in front of him makes no sense.
With his only task for the day done and no black eye to show for it, he finally pulls the cigarette from behind his ear, presses it to his mouth and sparks up. Sucking the familiar taste into his mouth, he inhales the smoke and considers it a comfort. The only thing he feels like is familiar and real in the space around him. Glancing around once more, just to check, he shakes his head and turns tail, smoke floating lazily in his wake as he decides the bar a few blocks away is exactly what he needs. ]
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no subject
[ Just Bob. A name that's straight to the point, much like its owner. Nobody has called Bob by his full name for a long, long time, and he's alright with that. 'Robert' reminds him of his dad, and that's a pointless waste of thinking space. Still, he's not got a reason to not share his name. It's already all over the network and only a small amount of digging would unearth that.
The fidgeting starts up though, Bob's inability to keep still surfacing as he digs a hand into his pocket and produces a pack of cigarettes. Anything to keep his hands busy. Wordlessly, he offers one to Ronan. ]
Look, I know I've never met you before, yeah, or your partner, but I am honestly really sorry. Tell him sorry for me, yeah?
no subject
If he comes back, I'll let him know it was an accident.
no subject
The cigarette is plucked from his mouth again, still unlit as he frowns at the man who's back to inspecting the lightsaber. ]
If he comes back?
no subject
[ No one was really exaggerating about how Kylo might react to the theft of his property. They weren't wrong, either, about Ronan being the better recipient. He sighs, a sound that carries with it the weariness of many sleepless nights. ]
That is, he's no longer with us.
no subject
Fuck, I'm sorry, mate. Didn't know...
[ It doesn't make a difference either way, but he can empathise. He doesn't know Ronan well enough to assume anything he says is going to be helpful, so he doesn't say anything more, just gently pats the taller man on the shoulder and jams both hands into his pockets. ]
no subject
How could you know?
[ Much as he would love to take out his rage on something, the target isn't going to be the person who returned Kylo's lightsaber to him without hesitation or demand. He doesn't know whether or not Bob is a good person, but it's clear enough that he's a kind one. ]
Thanks for this. I owe you.
no subject
Nah, you don't owe me anything. Don't worry about it. [ A pause, and then because Bob doesn't know what else he can do: ] Uh, is there anything I can do? [ Usually he'd suggest a pint (or ten) but he's not sure alcohol is helpful in this situation. ]
no subject
[ Much as Ronan would love to continue drowning his sorrows in alcohol, there's an insane plan he needs to enact, and it requires him to be mentally present in some capacity. Once more clutching the lightsaber against his heart, he retreats a step, like he means to walk away, though he won't be walking at all. ]
If you can do that, I'll owe you my whole damn life.
no subject
[ Places that aren't even on maps, too. At least, he can't find people yet, but give him time. He looks genuinely regretful at his shortcomings, like he'd give a lot to be able to lend the bloke a helping hand. Tucking his unlit cigarette behind one ear, he pulls his comms device from his jacket pocket and holds it up. ]
You've got my network ID, yeah? Give me a bell if you ever need to find a place. ...or if your shit goes missing. I'm uh... working on not accidentally doing that.
no subject
Thanks again.
[ Then Ronan is gone. Not vanished, because time has bent strangely around the precise moment of his leaving, and left in his place is the sense that maybe the entire interaction was imagined all along.
Even if it was, the lightsaber has gone with him. ]
no subject
With his only task for the day done and no black eye to show for it, he finally pulls the cigarette from behind his ear, presses it to his mouth and sparks up. Sucking the familiar taste into his mouth, he inhales the smoke and considers it a comfort. The only thing he feels like is familiar and real in the space around him. Glancing around once more, just to check, he shakes his head and turns tail, smoke floating lazily in his wake as he decides the bar a few blocks away is exactly what he needs. ]