riverviewlogs | [open] so don't stop me now

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[open] so don't stop me now

who: Poe Dameron (and by extension BB-8) + YOU
what: Catchall log
when: The remainder of November
where: Multiple locations
warnings: None at the moment, will edit as needed.

i. perimeter guard: aerial survey & exploration

[ Poe is ~~making out with~~ getting to know the Intrepid. At the moment he's underneath the ship on a rolling dolly, keeping up a steady stream of commentary to BB-8 while he roots around in an open panel.

BB-8 is next to him, projecting a hologram of the inner workings of the ship. ]

--deflectors aren't bad, but this baby has nothing on an X-wing. No offense. [ That last bit is directed at the ship, which he pats before going back into its insides. ] I'm thinking we can squeeze a little more speed out of these thrusters if we modify the thermal vents. What do you think, buddy?

[ BB-8 chirrups his support for the idea as Poe emerges again, hair sticking up from sweat and face marked with grease. ] Need to clear it with Jim first. Man, if Jess were here, she'd go to town on this thing.

ii. also... perimeter.... guard..........

[ Poe isn't really the weight lifting type. It's boring, for one thing. A static exercise. If he can't be in the air, he'd rather be in motion.

Which is why he's in the Perimeter Guard's fitness area whaling away on a few of the standing targets instead. Kicks, punches, all relatively basic moves executed at high speed. He knows enough to get by in a hand-to-hand combat scenario, but he's no advanced martial artist. The moves he knows are enough to get him a full-body workout, and that's good enough for him. His accuracy isn't great, not when his muscles protest this particularly vigorous abuse, not with the numbness in his arms and legs that gives way to tingling pain somewhere close to the surface of his skin. It makes him grateful the First Order didn't go after his hands. He can deal with the time it takes for the rest to heal.

--Also, he's talking to BB-8 the whole time he moves, conversation punctuated with grunts and the sounds of impact. ] --can't let ourselves get comfortable, you know? We-- need to be ready to-- move at a moment's notice.

[ He pauses, and BB-8 rolls over to the edge of the practice mat with a towel held in one maintenance grip and a water bottle in another. Poe takes both, taking a drink and wiping his face, speaking while his face is in the towel. ] Need to figure out a high-speed way to get a hold of Rey and Finn, so if they line the portal up or whatever it is they need to do we can hit it together. A kind of emergency signal.

iii. a park

[ He's jogging, focused on the motion of legs and arms, entirely absorbed in the rhythm. BB-8 rolls along in his wake, the droid more interested in their surroundings and the things in them than keeping up. At least since they're in public he's not rambling at his droid this time??

But you can bet if BB-8 sees something interesting or someone familiar, he'll detour away from his owner. ]

iv. a bar!

[ Poe doesn't drink much, and he doesn't let his pilots drink either. It's too much of a risk when they need to be ready to move the second intel or orders come in. Still, he likes people watching, and bars are a pretty good place to do it. (BB-8 elected to stay at the communal housing building.)

He is definitely not trying to avoid sleeping, because he's definitely not getting more tense with every day that goes past. Old habits, though. He's nursing a tonic with lime, since it's what the bar tender suggested for someone who doesn't want alcohol. ]

v. wildcard

[ Something else? Hit me! ]

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[ She gives a little start at the noise, not having expected a... response from the thing. But Poe is talking about it like it's more than just a robot so, guess she should try to do the same.

Even if Poe's laughter is a bit contagious, ]

I'm sorry I just... haven't seen anything like it--I mean, him. Like him.

[ That's definitely going to take some getting used to. ]

Most people here haven't, seems like.

[ BB-8 chirps a sad confirmation, and Poe reaches down to pat his droid before resuming his place at the bar. BB-8 tilts his head dome back to give Karen a more careful inspection. ] Bee's my flight partner. He's saved my life more than once.

Edited 2017-11-27 04:50 (UTC)

[ Her brows go up at that and she looks back down at the droid. It's still an odd sight but not a bad one. So, she gives it a try, talking to BB-8. ]

No easy feat, I'd imagine. He sounds like the kind of guy that gets into trouble a lot.

[ BB-8 gives a trill of confirmation that ends in a noise that is, undeniably, a sigh. Poe points an accusing finger at the droid with the hand holding his glass. ]

I'm not that bad.

[ Saith the droid, Beep Boop. ]

Okay, that wasn't--

[ Beep boopity boop. ]

Now, that's not f--

[ Beepity boopity beep beep.

Poe gives up. ]

Fine, you win.

[ Karen watches the exchange and ends up laughing despite only hearing one half of the conversation. She's almost wheezing, ]

I have no idea what he said but I agree with him.

Edited 2017-11-27 06:51 (UTC)

He's just lucky that stuff is classified. How am I supposed to defend myself?

[ Rude, BB. Rude. Poe shakes his head and takes a drink. ] It's not like I try to get into these situations.

[ She's still laughing into her next swig but holds up a hand as she nods. Once the drink is down, ]

Okay, okay. I can actually sympathize with that a lot. I never plan to end up in a dangerous situation but it would always happen anyway.

[ Poe chuckles. ] I know someone who used to be an investigative journalist--she said once that if there was a planet where someone didn't hate her, it was just because she hadn't been there yet. Seems kind of like danger comes with the territory.

[ Karen makes a face at that, almost wincing. ]

That sounds... pretty terrible. I mean, yeah, I get angry letters sometimes but when you're a journalist, you shouldn't be aiming to make people hate you. You should be following the story, trying to get to the truth so people can make up their own minds.

[ Poe... is bad at hiding his thoughts. He's as bad at hiding his thoughts as he is at lying. He hadn't realized he was still carrying a wound from what Suralinda did, from the person she'd become, but when Karen says that... It's like the surgical cut that prepares an uneven gash for stitching.

Poe just looks at her, silenced by surprise.

Finally, quietly: ] Yeah.

[ He looks down at his glass, not sure what else to say. ] I think you're right.

[ It's hard for her to miss that kind of reaction. Even harder for her not to say anything about it. ]

Hey--are you okay?

[ He reaches over to rest a hand on her forearm, giving it a tiny squeeze. His smile isn't quite up to military standards, as it were, but he winks. ] That's classified, unfortunately.

Bullshit.

[ But it's said with little heat, more softly than anything else. ]

I didn't mean to upset you if I said something--

[ Because she knows she can be opinionated in a less than considerable fashion at times. ]

No.

[ He doesn't even want to let her finish that thought. ] Thank you. I mean it.

[ She shifts, propping her arm up on the bartop and leaning to one side enough to rest her chin on her palm. ]

Fine. Keep your classifieds. I didn't want them anyway.

[ She's trying not to smile though. ]

[ There's a more sincere twinkle in his eyes now. ]

Liar liar.

[ He almost says That person I know used to be a friend. He almost says I'm tired of lies and I'm tired of lying. He almost says Please, never stop caring about the truth.

All of them are openings he's not prepared to give.

Instead, he says, ] You're a good person.

[ She snorts into her glass as she takes another sip from it. Moon rum is pretty good tbh. ]

You barely know me.

[ She adds, giggling slightly, ]

I mean, I could be a terrible person and you wouldn't even know.

I know what you've told me about yourself. I know what you think about telling the truth.

[ Poe props his own chin in his hand, smiling at her. This is Poe. He does this. It's a thing.]

[ She shakes her head, still smiling because it's hard not to when talks like that. She wags a finger at him, ]

Careful. That kind of thinking will come back to bite you on the ass.

[ She speaks from experience, sadly. Though she still wants to believe in good people and the good they can do, she knows better than most how some people aren't all what they seem. ]

Maybe.

[ Sure, it has already--just look at Oddy Muva, the trust Poe placed in him. Suralinda again. He knows, of course he knows, that there are people in the galaxy who will take the good you give them and turn it to ash. But then there's Finn. Rey. Finn. So many of his recruits. ]

That kind of thinking has saved my life more than it's hurt me.

[ She concedes with a sideways nod. ]

I'm glad it works for you, at least.

[ She's still in that place where she wonders how much good her faith in anyone ultimately does anything, if it even matters. ]

[ Poe takes Karen's hand. ] Hey.

[ He's still smiling, but there's a bright edge to it, the kind of smile he wears in the cockpit on the way to blast the First Order out of the sky. ] If there's one thing I know, it's that good wins. You just have to be willing to fight for it. Doesn't always win easy, doesn't always win clean, but it wins.

[ She looks over at him when he takes her hand, sees that smile and hears his words and feels a longing in her heart: she wishes she could still think that way. God knows, she tries. She tries with all her might to keep her head on straight and stand up for what's right. To give people hope that Not All is Lost. Because she desperately wants to keep believing in it.

But it gets so exhausting sometimes. And people disappoint. Frequently.

It's easy to give into the pity party (and the alcohol helps make it a quicker trip to that party) when you feel like you've lost more than you've gained. But she raises her glass to him some, forcing a smile that hurts more than it should. ]

You're preaching to the choir.

[ Poe's heart breaks to see her face. He knows it. He's intimately acquainted with the kind of heartbreak that shows in that fractured expression. Poe leans back and waves the bar tender over. ]

All right. Strap in and get yourself another drink, Karen Page, because I'm going to tell you the story of Leia Organa, who is living proof that the choir is right.

[ Poe is a good storyteller. It's another thing inherited from soldiers and the tales they told about their war, the ability to paint a picture in broad strokes and fine details and bring his audience in to the story with him. So he sets the scene: a galactic senate without power, the rising Empire, the Force and the lost Jedi and the specter of Darth Vader. Leia Organa, nineteen years old and trusted with the galaxy's last hope for freedom.

He diverges from Leia's story here and there, adding details and further explanations, flourishes that are no less true for being flashy. He talks about the rise of Luke Skywalker, the heroics of a smuggler-turned-General who became Leia's future husband. He even talks about his parents during the last conflict at Endor and the months that followed, battling the remnants of the Empire. But mostly, mostly, he talks about Leia Organa, the nineteen-year-old girl who saw her entire planet destroyed and rose to the position of Senator in the government born from the fields of war. ]

And that's not even mentioning the time she saved an entire planet in a ship that shouldn't even have been able to fly, let alone face an Imperial Battle Cruiser. Of course she had my mom to help her with that one.

Edited 2017-11-27 16:48 (UTC)

[ She downs the rest of her current drink and orders another one because why the hell not. She'll regret it in the morning but that's the morning. Turns out, she needs it to deal with this space opera Poe weaves for her. Something that honestly sounds too fantastical to be real and yet, she's on a moon in another universe, listening to it. So, can't really make that argument anymore.

But the figure of Leia, this woman that Poe clearly admires, is definitely someone Karen can find some awe for. She sounds amazing. Strong and capable. Someone she wouldn't mind meeting and talking to.

The smile on her face disappears a few times (some of this sounds horrific on a scale that feels hard to really digest) but then, near the end, something more genuine takes its place. ]

Sounds like you got to grow up around some impressive ladies. Lucky man.

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volitaunt - 2017-11-27 17:18 (UTC) - Expand

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