Yeah, it's strange, actually. Some of the tech here seems pretty advanced, like the devices they give us, and they have the train system, but then other things — [ He gestures vaguely with the hand that isn't currently clasping onto hers, sort of to imply that the rest of it is more antiquated, older, not necessarily reliant on anti-grav systems or anything that would point to being able to even so much as mimic their speeders from back home, let alone their ships. ] Poe and I have been trying to hold on to anything that seems like it could be useful, you know. For building purposes.

[ And it's the implication around that particular word, as well as the way he meets her gaze and holds it, that attempts to communicate to her without saying it out loud — at least, not while they're still relatively out in the open — that the two of them have already been working on trying to assemble something that could fly, maybe even fly them all out of here eventually with enough time and patience. But if anyone's more qualified than either of them to make it happen, it's the girl whose hand he's holding as though he doesn't plan to let it go any time soon.

He hadn't gotten very far from the garage before running into her, so it's a short walk back, and eventually they round a corner to the building itself, advertised as The G-Spot with a somewhat garish neon sign, a fenced-off salvage yard visible from the street, but he fishes in the pocket of a very recognizable leather jacket before coming up with his keys to let them in through the front door of a tiny waiting area. It's a straight walk to the office in the back, but the door on the right leads to the garage and the junkyard, and that's the one he leads her to before letting her step through ahead of him, slipping his fingers from hers. ]

Here. It's — well, all of it, it's yours. Or I guess ours now, if that's okay. [ He's looking to her face rather than their surroundings, the strands of hair that have escaped her buns to grace the edge of her cheek. ]