Chapter Text
Word of the day: War
“I've seen this raw strength only once before. It didn't scare me then. It doesn’t now. When I found you, rebel scum, I saw raw, untamed power, and beyond that, your death at my hands. At last, I only know one truth: It's time for the Jedi to end.”
“Something inside me has always been there, but now it's awake with your wicked words. So, go ahead Sith, strike me down in anger like you have done to the rest of your brothers, for I will not be the last Jedi, but I will be the one who ends you.”
With a flick of his wrist, Spencer Gilpin flung open the plastic lightsaber he held in his hand, blue light flooding from it as he suddenly let out an animalistic scream, jumping from the bed and charging towards Anthony ‘Fridge’ Johnson in his hooded dressing gown, who did the same from the couch, only his weapon of choice glowed red in the midday light.
The plastic as well as the men welding them in battle, let out a cacophony of noises louder than outside of their windows as they fought across the battleground, each wanting to be the victor, both wanting to avoid their fate that had been set out should either lose.
Soon enough, with the unseen strength of his brethren before him, the Jedi swooped down and tripped his opponent, the Sith’s lightsaber flying over an armchair as the Jedi stood, victorious.
“YES! EAT SHIT YOU DU-FUCK!”
His victory speech was cut off by his enemy, who launched at him with a flying tackle from his place of defeat, both of them eventually arguing and rolling around on the arena (a small carpet, really), wrestling with each other as Martha and Bethany looked on from the balcony, both of them turning to each other before Martha just shook her head with a smile.
“Another coffee, Beth?”
“I thought you’d never ask.”