Posts by han solo

Well, that was something new. The old pilot's brow shot right upward as he walked into the scene, unable to hold back a sputtered chuckle in surprise. "Not you too, kid," he gasped, dramatic as possible. He still remembered his first run-ins with Force sensitives. Still remembered the day Les found out she had the Force. She was so little; just barely learning to walk in a straight line. Boy, that had been such a long ago.

Han was not sure if he was truly shocked. Poe had been surrounded by force-sensitives and been aware of the force for quite some time. Han too, but he hadn't put much belief in the mystical energy until much after his run-ins with Jedi. "I'm assuming this is somewhat new, less ya been holding back on me this entire time, kid."

I say we need lessa angst

y'all, gonna give Han a hawk soon, but can't pick a name; at the moment I'm thinking of Kessel or Eravana (or Era for short)

Hawks and HawkClanners.  Must've become a big deal around the time he disappeared.  The scruffy marten had been weary.  Decent traveling companions came in far and few.  He missed his granddaughter.  He missed Chewy.  He missed Ben too, though he'd deny it.  All three had been at his side.  Lessa's earliest memories was probably the two of them on the move all the time.  Perhaps that had not been the greatest childhood, but they had found a home in StormClan before her third moon.  Things had been simple then; wherever one went, the other usually followed.  It had been Chewy, Ben, and Lessa's case all at one point, then the reserve came true as Lessa grew older and more restless.  Seemed like she never stayed in one place, and he couldn't keep up.  Maybe he never would.

Now, Han was here, alone in terms of companions.  He wasn't following, and he wasn't being followed.  He'd ask for directions to RiverClan soon enough; a visit was overdue.  Lessa and Ben needed to know he was up and about.  Maybe he'd get a duel allegiance.  HawkClan was different - he could feel it.  The smuggler's kids weren't coming back soon; they weren't welcome, he supposed grimly.  But he knew how they, or Lessa at the very least, felt about the clan.  This was home.  This was the sanctuary she found after Vader chased her away from WindClan.  This was the first clan she took the mantel of healer from all on her own.  This place was special to her.  So he'd take care of it, keep an eye on things, until one day she could herself again.  So he was a HawkClanner, and unlike Ben, that he would stay with or without Lessa, for Lessa.

While he was not alone in terms of friends; Han did not know what he thought of a true companion.  He would never call a hawk his pet.  He didn't believe in keeping other animals for pets.  He didn't know how he felt about the supposed bond one was supposed to develop with their winged friends.  It could be beneficial.  Could be weird. Though he remembered a time when the Force was weird. It still was, but he didn’t bash it anymore; no longer called it mumbo-jumbo. With a set jaw, the marten got ready.

The turn to a colder season meant less pretty, but it was simple enough for the marten to dash through the trees, chasing down a squirrel. It hung limply from his jaws as he returned, and with a deep inhale, the smuggler stepped forward, and waited. While he sat there, regarding the predatory birds, he ridiculed himself on not being there for Lessa when she got her own hawk. She did have one, he was sure, though he wonders how she did it; she had never hunted growing up, she was extremely against bloodshed. She must've offered something else. He had no doubt that a hawk had chosen her who understood her. It certainly cheered him up.

After a lifetime - perhaps it had only been five minutes - a single bird swooped down from the canopy in a flurry of gray feathers and threatening talons. Han felt his muscles tense, but he did not move an inch. "You're a falcon." He shook his head with a chuckle. Of course she was. He knew he'd never go back to the Falcon, but... He did not mind being friends with one. She was a young, fierce-looking creature. A whirlwind in the shape of a bird. "Era. Eravana." And he smiled. "Nice to meet you." He had a feeling the peregrine falcon was going to be a handful, but he'd love her nonetheless.

Era seemed quite content to devour her squirrel and turn her sharp eyes on the smuggler when she was done. She was not going to go easy on him, that was for sure.

Era went ahead. The peregrine falcon the old HawkClanner found himself paired up with was a restless, speedy one. When she spotted something to dive for, she was gone. A blur of gray, then a speck in the distance. Getting directions was easy enough, and soon as he was up for it, the smuggler set out. Eravana flew over the clan's territory, ignoring the border without a single care in the world, letting out a series of sharp screeches. The falcon was searching for hawks in the vicinity - she knew, just as Han did, that both RiverClan Solos had a hawk, and she was going to find them, thus finding those two Solos in the process.

Han himself settled on the border as soon as he found it, fluffing up his fur in the cold and tucking his paws beneath his chest. He doubted it'd take long. Era was loud, and had a keen pair of eyes. Not to mention patrols came around the borders often from what he'd seen in moons past. The scruffy marten was a little impatient to see his granddaughter, but he could grit his teeth and wait a while longer.

lessa s. , KYLO R.

Seeing a little lion did not make him feel particularly enthused. If only because the last young lions he had met had been Anakin's children. Pluto. Alice. Those two stuck out in his memory the strongest; they'd been there when Lessa came to visit WindClan. This lion cub looked like a good kid, just like those two. Certainly very friendly. The smuggler smiled gently, before his head snapped up at the sound of his granddaughter's voice.

His eyes gleamed brightly, and he reached forward to pull her into a tight hug. "Poe told me what happened," his voice was resigned. He did not know the whole story, but he knew enough to understand. It was just like Lessa to help others, enemies or no, and it was not her fault that Littlestar had not taken it well. "No apologies necessary, kid. I'm sorry 'bout missing your birthday last month."

'More family mom?' Mom? Han blinked once, then twice, glancing at his granddaughter, then the young dragon, then back. His first thought was Fifer. He had some reason; as the kid could shift into a black dragon, and the smuggler had been rather sure that he had a something of a crush on Les - who could also shift, but he doubted this was the case. Before he could inquire, another voice interrupted his thoughts. Ben.

"Ben," his son did not look much different. No worse. No better. Perhaps he'd always be this distant and bitter towards him, but as long as he loved Lessa, that was enough for Han. "Yes, that's right. Nice to meet you, Val, and Luciferus." Anakin's son. Great-grandson. He felt real old now.

There was Anakin too. Han's brow creased in momentary confusion. He lived here, in RiverClan, with Lessa? He didn't like the sound of that, but Ben was here, and he supposed Anakin was no longer Vader but that changed nothing of the past. He grit his teeth, the smile on his face melting in less than a second, turning into a scowl. "Fine now." The marten refused to let this ruin his day. They were not family in his eyes. They never would be, but his true family was here, in front of him and that's what he was here for.

"I was thinking I might sign up for a duel allegiance," he finally said, looking back to his granddaughter. "If that's alright."

Lessa had left her backup prosthetic in her tree house. He had half a mind to carry them to the medical tree house, and keep them stored there; maybe she had another set of backups in there too, that he didn't know about. If Lessa trusted this new shaman, Ravelights, then Han supposed he could grudgingly put the prosthetics in his care. But perhaps Han ought to start acting like Lessa was not coming back to HawkClan. After all, she had never returned to WindClan for longer than short visits even though it had been her home for quite some time before Vader had unofficially exiled her. The old marten had a feeling HawkClan was a bit different; it had been Lessa's home, in her heart, but perhaps StormClan and WindClan had been too, once. Either way. She was exiled at the moment, and he should act like that was how it was.

So the smuggler set up outside his own tree house, miscellaneous parts and wires scattered around him. Winter was not the best time for metal prosthetics; he was worried Lessa's joints might freeze over if she was not being watchful. Even if she was, it never hurt to have some fresh replacements. Since he missed her birthday last month, he was going to make up for it with twice as many Christmas presents; some replacements for her prosthetic legs included.

It'd be a whole lot easier if Era did not keep getting in his way, inspecting every bit of metal she found, lifting and pecking as she tried to figure out the purposes of what was in front of her. He had to wrestle some parts from her more than once, ears flicking. "Era, come on," he grumbled, frowning. "Thought you liked the kid; she needs to walk, ya know." That seemed to work for a few minutes, but the fierce falcon grew restless soon enough and started once more. "Hey, what if I made you some armor, or something, next, eh?" Force, that was probably a bad idea. Last thing he wanted was a dangerously equipped Era on his paws, but if it satisfied her, he'd happily do it. Maybe some metal claws to hook over her talons; he'd read about some in a book once. Or maybe some light armor, nothing to hinder flight, but something to give her some extra defense. It'd look cool too, he bet.

Era did in fact grow more cooperative after that, and soon enough the marten and falcon were working together and had half a leg done. Not a bad start.

It'd been some time since Han fought, but he had before, and he had been ready to do so again, when the time came. For the Rebellion, for the Alliance... For HawkClan now. For Lessa. For Littlestar. The scruffy marten raised his chin and nodded to Poe, clearly supporting his command. The kid would do fine. And they were going to make BloodClan pay for the hurt they brought.

"Here to help," the old smuggler spoke gruffly, joining the clanmates already gathered. Han did not always stick to 'the plan' when it came down to battle strategies. He liked being unpredictable like that, though he doubted allies appreciated it. Era screeched above him, talons flexing. He made a note to start working on that armor idea of his. The falcon was clearly itching for a fight and he wanted to give her the advantage. "Been thinking about equipping the birds with some weapons... Lightweight armor 'course. Nothing to hinder flight. Helmets, battle claws maybe. Could be a useful edge."

The old smuggler swaggered his way over to Poe, Era swooping down to join him. This looked like an interesting pair of sparring partners. Han could not remember the last time he bothered to spar someone. The last time he'd been in any sort of fight had been moons ago. He was probably out of practice. I should probably fix that, he muses, rolling his shoulder back. At least the bone had healed up nicely since he got sent to the moon by Vader. Era, he knew, was itching for a chance to claw someone's eyes out. All the talk of war, had gotten her excited that was for sure. He was, understandably, put off by that, but it was hard to tell how much the former rebel minded.

HawkClan did in fact have a mechanic. The scruffy marten was often spotted tinkering with prosthetic legs however, given he had a granddaughter in Riverside, who's legs had been sliced off with a lightsaber (well aside from one, that she'd lost in a far earlier accident). "You need a paw there?" Han was not weirded out by the android whatsoever. On the contrary, he was somewhat fascinated that a clanmate was an android. Distantly, he recalled his son building one, an android designed to protect and give Han's granddaughter a constant companion since she seemed so adamant on traveling so often.

Ben would be, he muses, much better at helping given his more recent experience, but his son was hulled up in Riverside. Ben was not a particularly helpful individual anyway. He wished Lessa was here; she was good at this too, and was a fully trained healer; the exiled shaman. Instead, Han was here, but he was more than willing to help.

That made his day. The scruffy old marten's eyes lit up as he bounded onto the scene, arriving just after Poe. "Hey Les!" He grinned lopsidedly as he aimed to pull her into an unrelenting hug. She did, in his opinion, looked quite tired. Hopefully he could help out a bit. "I kept an eye on your old treehouse; everything's exactly where you left it." As if the smuggler would've let anyone take it. It was good nobody tried. Her back up prosthetics, her paints... Everything; it was too important to let anyone take away or move. And no doubt she'd be more comfortable there, then staying in an unfamiliar house, though his roof was always open for her.

"Glad you're back, kid," and he knew Poe was too. She had more than friends here; she had family. "Place ain't the same without you." Han sniffed quietly, turning his eyes on Beck, brows creased. "Previous leader had a problem with her helping people, is that a problem?" Enemies or not; Lessa had done what she did best; tried to help.

Han was still a little bewildered by having a great-grandson - two, actually - much less one that was a massive dragon. Scales, wings, teeth and all. The only other dragon the old smuggler had much experience with was a friend of Lessa's, but he'd been a scaled beast about eye-level to a fox. He had to crane his next to look up at Luciferus, and even then... Perhaps he'd never get used to that; it felt like Lessa was Bell's age only yesterday, now she was called mother by not one, but two sons.

"Hey there, kiddo," Han called gruffly, tail flicking. Era swooped down beside him, the peregrine's head tilted lightly as she regarded the smuggler's great-grandson. Like Bell, the scruffy marten had no clue what he was doing here; the immediate assumption was a friendly visit from an ally, though perhaps he was here on personal business. He had plenty of family among HawkClan, so he decided to wait and see for sure.

This was Lessa's son these two were arguing about, and the old smuggler was not having it. The marten scowled as he joined Aron, ears flattened against his skull as a low growl built in his throat. "Kid's not an item to claim, nerfherder," he was a kid, not a possession. Whoever this guy was, he was simply asking for a fight at this point. "I don't care who you are, or where the kriff you came from, but if you think you're entitled to make a claim like that, I think you ought to leave 'fore you overstay your welcome any more."

He wasn't going to let some hairless cat march in laying claim to a kid, much less a clanmate, and sure as hell not his granddaughter's adopted son. He wouldn't give a damn, either, what the consequences might be if he decided it'd be necessary to drive the tom out.

"Kid?" Shouting like that very rarely meant something good. The old smuggler bounded after Poe's voice, Era zooming after him like a jet off a railway. Since Yavin was no where in eye sight, he understood; the bird was missing. Perhaps underwater, given the canine's attempt to search beneath the surface, out there in the waves. "Poe, calm down, what's happened? For force sake, don't drown yourself, kid!"

He wished he had his son's magical ability to call to Lessa through the Force. She could swim. Well, from what he knew, and she could sense what was beneath the surface too. She could help, surely. "Kid you're gonna get yourself sick!" In this weather? Swimming could be a death sentence.

// assuming the pebbles are on ground not tree?

Sometimes the old smuggler forgot to stop by.  He asked for a duel allegiance... Maybe his age was catching up to him.  Weather in HawkClan had been rather battering lately as well.  They were snowed in at one point.  Of course, he's been in tougher spots, and in plenty cold places.  The scruffy marten left a trail of small footprints behind him in the snow, wandering through Riverside lands.  He needed to know his way around.

When he spotted Lessa above in the branches of a tree, he began to tred more quietly, realizing with raised brows that she was asleep. He's got a sense of deja-vu, if just vaguely. She has fallen asleep like that before, once or twice when she was a child. He was not entirely worried about her falling out - she was designed for tree-life - but he was not so sure she could keep herself warm up there. What if she woke up with a chill?

Han craned his neck upward as he sat at the foot of the tree, ear flicking. He was fairly sure he saw some rocks moving. It could not be Lessa - unless she could move things in her sleep, and.. Maybe she could - but he had a feeling it could be either one of two ghostly individuals. He bet on the latter, a quiet sound of irritation escaping his throat. Anakin should go bother his own children. If the lion woke her up, he was going to give him hell one way or another. Leave her alone, for Force sake, Anakin. She's trying to sleep. What if she senses you and wakes up? What if the rocks fall, and make a noise, or she feels their movement?

Above him, Era zipped through the trees, finding a perch on a branch just above Lessa, much to the smuggler's further irritation. "Era," he hissed quiet as he could, his eyes turning into a smoldering glare. "Don't you dare wake her up." Of course the peregrine found this amusing, fluffing out her feathers, and getting comfortable.

Han's eyes snap away from his mischievous companion, regarding the quiet tom for a moment. This was Riverside's leader, he was fairly certain. That meant he was Lessa's friend, he supposed. At least he knew to whisper, though it seemed he was not sure why. The smuggler huffed quietly, tail lashing to and fro in an agitated manner. "Er, Shine or something, right?" His words came out gruffly, barely a sound, as his brows creased. He'd never caught the leader's full name, but he remembered the nickname; his great-grandson had used it his first day here. Now, he supposed he had a face to match with the name, if he was right.

"You wouldn't have any tips or tricks on getting a falcon to cooperate with you, would you?" Han gave Era pointed glare as he spoke, though she just ignored him, beginning to groom her feathers. At least she was quiet. For the moment. "If she's not careful, she's gonna wake up the kid."

Now that was an unusual cat. The scruffy pine marten blinked as he wandered over, a peregrine falcon swooping just barely over his head. Of course, if Han noticed Era, he was ignoring his companion. The pair had fought over a few wrenches and spare parts for the better half of the morning, and Han was in no mood to continue entertaining the bird who found it incredibly amusing as far as he was aware. So pointedly dismissing the bird's presence, the old smuggler set his eyes on the pixelated cat.

"Nice to meet you kid," he grinned. Han was a somewhat rare face around the clan. He popped in and out of public eye quite randomly, so there were always new faces for him to meet. "Name's Han."