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bodhi

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More and more often lately, Philip finds himself generally displeased with Darrow. Losing his job with Todd Chad had been a bit of a blow, especially right before the big concert that would have inevitably resulted in a relatively decent payday, but he knows things can be worse. They can always be worse. At this point he still has a significant amount of money both in his bank account and stashed in his apartment, he's not quite at the point of having to be worried just yet, but he's not happy about his current state either.

It would be easy to go out, find something to help him deal with it. He could buy something or someone, but he's trying to make smart decisions when it comes to the money he still has on hand and the fact that he can't leave this place. It's not as easy to get away with things when he knows he can't get beyond the borders of the city.

A bar would be the obvious solution, but instead he goes to a liquor store and buys a relatively inexpensive bottle of whiskey. He drinks too much of it in his apartment, then leaves the bottle -- he has no desire to get arrested for wandering around with an open container -- and heads for the boardwalk. There are people on the boardwalk, plenty of them, people who'll distract him, take his mind off things.

And the boardwalk turns out to be exactly what he wants. The early evening air is cooler than it had been even only a few weeks ago and Philip is drunk, but not so drunk as to look it. He's not clumsy, he isn't stumbling through the crowd, he's still watching everyone as they go by, taking everyone in, trying to decide who he wants to talk to tonight.

He spots him after a few moments, a younger man, a few inches shorter than he is, thin, with long hair. There's something about him Philip can't quite put his finger on, but he moves through the crowd until he's standing beside the other man, watching the water for a moment over the side of the railing.

"Nice night," he says simply, his lips curving into a faint smile.

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Bodhi barely even realizes anyone's addressing him until he lazily glances over at the man beside him, then back out at the water, then quickly back at the man. The double take is embarrassingly obvious, but Bodhi's taken aback by his unexpected company's very noticeably handsome face and gorgeous eyes.

Taking a moment just to collect himself, he hums his agreement, clearing his throat as he leans forward to rest his forearms on the boardwalk rail. It's a nice evening, he's been out here about an hour listening to the the chatter of the crowd and the faint melodies escaping out the open door of a nearby bar. Sunday evenings are usually somewhat calm, certainly moreso than it would be on the boardwalk on a Friday or Saturday night. The work week starts again, bright and early, for most tomorrow; as for Bodhi, his next day of training at the auto shop he'd found a job at isn't until Tuesday so he'd chosen to come here.

Being near the beach isn't always the most relaxing place he can be but every once in awhile, Bodhi lets himself think about the moment of peace and pride he'd had before those lights had flashed in his eyes in Rogue One and he'd ended up here. When he focuses on that, he feels lighter.

"You're enjoying it alone, too?" Bodhi asks, inwardly cringing at the question. "Sorry. That's awfully nosy of me, isn't it?"

It's not as if no one has ever looked at him twice before, but it still makes Philip grins as he mimics the other man's movements, resting his arms against the railing of the boardwalk as well. The water is calm and at this time of the evening, there aren't many people out in the water, though he can see one or two here and there. If he hadn't found anyone worthwhile up here, he would have gone down to the sand to see if there was someone there, but he's content enough here for the time being.

"Maybe it is," he says. "But I came up and began talking to you uninvited, so I think it's the sort of question you're allowed to ask in a situation such as this."

Not that Philip has much care for social rules either way. He's perfectly capable of being a gentleman when it's required of him and in general his manners are better than most people in Darrow, but that's only because he knows what people want. As for actual care about the rules, that isn't something he possesses and he tends to think most of what's expected of people is a little on the ridiculous side. They would all have much more fun if they stopped worrying so often.

"Which is to say, yes, I'm here alone," he adds, flashing another smile.

The handsome stranger makes a good point, and Bodhi can't help but return the charming smile offered to him. It's been all of fifteen seconds but some people just possess an instant air of charisma, Bodhi's come across others like that a few times before, though his memories of them aren't as clear as they used to be. In any case, it'd always been flattering to be someone people like that had chosen to talk to, especially because while he may be social enough, Bodhi isn't necessarily the most prone to making a great deal of friends.

He's always traveled in smaller circles, had preferred flying alone on a ship to spending much time in the bars drinking, though he hadn't denied himself that fun too often. It's strange to think of how nice a balance he'd struck working under the Empire. Thinking back on it now makes it seem so very wrong.

"Well, not anymore," Bodhi tells him, a faint blush creeping across his cheeks. "I'm Bodhi. You're not so uninvited."

"Appreciated, thank you," Philip answers, noting the blush, deciding that pink stain across Bodhi's cheeks looks rather appealing. Darrow has no shortage of attractive strangers and for a city he can't leave, he does rather well in seeing some people only once or twice before moving on and deciding to never bother with them again. There are exceptions, of course, and he tends to give some folks the benefit of the doubt when it comes to holding his interest, if only because he knows it's for the best.

He can't very well piss off the entire population of a city he can't leave. It would be a mistake to do something like that. Maybe before this place he wouldn't have been the sort to have many friends, maybe he'd always preferred to keep people at a distance, but even a man like him knows that when trapped in a situation like this, it's best to have a few folks one can call on in a time of need. Not everyone turns out to be someone like that, but he's perhaps a little more open to the possibility than he might have once been.

"I'm Philip," he says, shifting on the railing and offering his hand. "I think this is the point where I'm supposed to find some subtle way to ask if you're from somewhere other than Darrow, but I've never really been one for subtlety. It seems best to just ask outright, doesn't it?"

Bodhi takes the proffered hand, shaking quickly before withdrawing and slipping his own into his pocket, the other left grasping the rail as his gaze returns to the crash of the waves against the sand. The water looks inviting under the soft lights of the boardwalk, that's what's kept him mesmerized for the past fifteen minutes until Philip had come along.

"Subtlety's not my strong suit, either," Bodhi admits. Keeping secrets is a different sort of thing entirely and that, he's found he's been quite good at thus far. Neither Jyn nor Cassian know about Bor Gullet, about what Saw had really done to him on Jedha, that more often than now, that's what he sees when he closes his eyes. He doesn't remember anything about Rogue One going up in flames with him still inside, all he recalls is a flash of light and a burn that's healed since his arrival in Darrow. He hadn't seen his friends die, and he doesn't talk about that with Jyn and Cassian, either.

In the dark of night, it's usually just Bodhi and what's left of his mind. Sometimes it's nice to have a distraction.

"I'm definitely not from here," Bodhi continues, glancing at Philip with a small smile. He nods upward, eyes lifting toward the sky. "I'm from out there."

If this had been earlier during his time in Darrow, Philip might have arched an eyebrow at that sort of statement and questioned the sanity of the man delivering it, but he's been here long enough now that all it does is give him a little flutter of interest. Out there can imply a lot of different things; space, most simply, but also the possibility of another world entirely, somewhere beyond the scope of what he will ever experience or understand.

In other circumstances it would have angered him, knowing there was something beyond his grasp, but there's no point in that sort of anger now. He can't do anything about it and neither can anyone else.

"Anywhere in particular out there or are you from all over?" he asks, watching as Bodhi lifts his gaze toward the sky. It's easier to look at him when he doesn't quite look back and Philip takes the opportunity to study his profile, the slope of his nose and the edge of his jaw. He's handsome, even if he is a little nervous.

Bodhi shrugs a shoulder at the question, not entirely certain how to respond. It isn't that he plans to reveal his entire life story to Philip, just that speaking of where he's from means speaking of Jedha and that pain is still as fresh as it'd been the day he'd watched his home city crumble to pieces.

"I'm from a place called Jedha City," he answers. "I was born there, left to become a pilot." He'd failed flight training, only because his focus had been more on the actual flying than the tests he'd had to take, but Bodhi supposed that'd been a sort of blessing in disguise. Better a cargo pilot than a starfighter pilot like he'd wanted to be, in the end. Clearing his thrust and shaking himself from his thoughts, he adds, "It's not a very exciting story."

Turning a bit more toward Philip, he tilts his head curiously. "What about you? Where'd you come from before you ended up here? I haven't heard many accents like yours."

Most people have more of a story to tell than they're willing to share and Philip doubts Bodhi is an exception to that rule, but he only nods as if he understands when really he hasn't the slightest idea as to where this city might be. Darrow still hasn't stopped surprising him, but he does his best not to let it show when it happens, instead behaving as though meeting people from other planets and other worlds has long since been something normal for him. He has no idea where Jedha City might be, beyond out there, but he supposed it doesn't matter much.

Bodhi probably won't know where Dublin is either.

"There aren't many Irishmen here that I know of," he agrees. "I was born in Dublin, which is in Ireland. And it's an odd thing to have to specify, but that's on the planet Earth." It's not the first time he's had to narrow it down like that, not the first time he's had to tell someone which planet he's from, but even after all this time in Darrow, it's an odd thing. So much has changed in terms of technology, but on top of that, he's had to adjust to the idea of other galaxies, other worlds. Philip, though, has made an entire career out of adjusting to things that others perhaps wouldn't or couldn't. He can adjust to this, too.

Bodhi shrugs a shoulder, though he offers a small, crooked smile. "We didn't have a planet Earth in our galaxy so I don't have a clue where you're talking about. That's alright, though, isn't it? Hardly anything about Darrow makes sense in the first place, why should anything else?"

He's not even supposed to be alive right now. While he can't say he has any real complaints about that, it's still a very real truth he faces every morning he wakes up; and every night he goes to sleep; and most hours in between, if he's honest. More and more recently, though, he goes longer stretches without dwelling on what'd happened on Scarif. Bodhi can't yet foresee a time when he'll go an entire day without thinking about it, but it's always a somewhat pleasant surprise to realize when he's gone a little longer without recreating his own death and the deaths of his friends in his mind.

Enough of it makes sense for Philip to get by without much issue, able to find work and pleasures both that fulfill what he needs, but at the same time he knows it's an odd place. There's simply no pretending otherwise, not when he'd been a big of an unspoken security guard to a pop star who, as far as Philip can tell, seemed to be quite dead.

Then again, depending on someone's definition, Philip himself is quite dead. It's a fact that bothers Philip much less now than it used to.

"And so what planet is it you're from then?" he asks curiously, giving Bodhi a slow smile. That seems like such an impossible question and for a man from Ireland in the thirties, it would have been, but Philip has always been the adaptable sort and if there's new information to collect here, even drunk as he is now. That's the sort of habit that one never loses, not when there's something to be gained by paying the proper amount of attention to everything that goes on around him.

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