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protectingthelight) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
riverviewlogs2018-01-05 02:03 pm
to your stations, and may the Force be with us
Who: Amilyn Holdo and YOU.
What: Holdo settles in at Riverview, has some awkward conversations, and generally has to deal with being here after mumble mumble spoiler mumble. Feel free to tag in off a prompt, or roll your own. Also, there will be comments for threads with specific people.
Where: Various locations including but not limited to: housing, government buildings, around town.
When: Over the first week or so that she's here.
Warnings: 'ware spoilers. I won't include any here, but threads will no doubt include them of necessity.
1. Community housing
If you live on the eighth floor, you will probably see Amilyn fairly regularly. She cuts a pretty unmistakable figure, being nearly six feet tall and with that purple hair and all. She's hung up her Republic-style gown for the time being (saving it, maybe, for some suitable occasion), but even with her civilian clothes she still wears her bracelets and rings.
2. Government offices
Amilyn shows up for work pretty much the day after she gets her assignment. So if you work as a community ambassador—congratulations, you have a new coworker. She's diligently setting up her workspace and getting caught up on all the latest news.
3. Entertainment and shopping district
All work and no play and all that stuff. Amilyn goes for walks, taking in the new sights and sounds, maybe stopping for a bite to eat somewhere interesting.
4. Wildcard
Feel free to suggest anything!
closed thread - Poe Dameron
Briefly she closes her eyes and exhales softly. Give me strength. The man is inadvertently proving her point.
"What guarantee do you have that you would even be able to take that knowledge back with you? And anyway, whether you could or not—until you returned, how could you not obsess over that knowledge, let it consume every waking moment?" Torture you, she almost says, but realizes that would be unfair, and probably would do exactly what she's describing, if he's smart enough—and he probably is—to read between the lines. "And if you returned and forgot it all, anything I said would be for nothing."
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And she has a point.
She has several points.
Surprise! Poe hates it. He hates being helpless. He hates not doing anything. He hates that he's been here and things have somehow moved forward anyway, that he can't know. He wants to say he's already torturing himself, but he's not comfortable enough with her to admit that. Doesn't mean it's not written all over his face.
He looks away, hissing under his breath, "Damn it."
Slowly, finally, he looks back at her and just... nods, once. It's as close as he can get to admitting that she's right and he'll abide by it. Still--there's one more question. There's one more thing he's got to take the chance at finding out.
"Why'd you call me Captain?" He doesn't have a lot of hope that she'll answer. (But, but, but.) He can't not try.
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Because you got demoted for defying a direct order to retreat that cost us the better part of our aerial attack forces—that doesn't really seem like a good answer.
"You really want to know." It's a statement, not a question. And yes, it's stalling too.
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He does now.
Does he really want to know? Does he want to know why she cried, does he want to know why she called him Captain, does he want to know why she's so unwilling to tell him about what happened? Yes. No.
How much knowing is too much, when you can't do anything to change it?
"I don't know," he says, each word like pulling teeth. It's a concession to the part of himself that suddenly wants to run far and fast from Amilyn Holdo, the only concession to that instinct he'll make. He grits his teeth hard enough to feel a jaw muscle twitch, feeling the impact of his back against the tree, and he does something he feels like he's going to regret just as much as he won't. "No."
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“Thank you,” she says. Her melancholy smile is—unexpectedly, perhaps—rather fond.
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He's smiling when he says it though. It's a relief, somehow, to know that she can be something other than entirely serious. Poe drags a hand through his hair, looking down and exhaling like he's just come back from a dogfight. At least it's settled. He doesn't need to know, he's not going to know. He can move on, enough that the wishing to know is a quiet itch instead of a feverish need.
"What do you want to know? Is there anything I can tell you about--" Enlightenment dawns as Poe realizes she might not know about the presence of several very important people. "Finn. Leia, Rey, they're all here. And there are two Rebels, two people from the Rebel Alliance I mean."
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At the mentions of the names, her expression alters, and her gaze drops to her teacup, as if there was some kind of explanation waiting there.
"I've seen Leia," she says quietly.
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He leans back a little in his chair, scratching his forehead.
"Is... this is something else I'm not supposed to know, isn't it."
Then, because curiosity nearly always wins and because it's a safer topic than the future, he says, "How... well do you know her?"
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"We've been friends since we were girls," she said. "We met as apprentice legislators to the Senate. It's because of her that I am where—got to where I was, I suppose. I joined the Rebellion because of her."
Almost by accident, really. But, she always felt, a happy one.
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Would she have ended up like Leia, if her parents had been like Bail and Breha Organa?
That's the innocent one, the what-if that carries no danger.
I am. I got.
Something cold washes through him, connections made and suspicions borne on a flood of denial. Cassian and Jyn are here.
Cassian and Jyn are dead.
His voice is a whisper.
"You're not going back with us, are you."
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She meets his gaze. A small shake of her head.
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But what was it he told Rey? He won't make a promise he can't keep.
"Oh."
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"Don't feel sorry for me, please. I don't regret a thing."
Well, almost. She wishes she could have left with Leia, in the transports with the rest. She wishes she could have stopped Dameron earlier, before he jeopardized the entire escape plan with his bravado. But for everything she did after the moment of her last goodbye to Leia? Not a regret in the galaxy.
(Unless they didn't make it to Crait, despite that. But she won't allow herself that possibility.)
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"I'm glad you've got that, at least."
Dying without regrets--that's a gift not everyone gets.
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He's a real troublemaker. I like him. The look in his eyes only confirms that her liking of him is not misplaced, for all his insubordination. The hothead is not incapable of wisdom, after all.
"What else can I tell you? Within the limits I've set for myself, that is?"
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He's curious. Someone with her credentials, someone with her poise--it's got to be government.
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The corner of his lip tugs sideways into a brief frown. He misses his X-wing. He misses the sky. It's like he told Karen--flying pre-planned routes and routine surveys is not his idea of a good time.
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He doesn't like making a living. He doesn't like paying bills. He doesn't like any of the mundane daily life activities he's been steeped in for the past two months, and the simple domesticity of it might eventually drive him insane.
But. Y'know. He's fine for now.
"I'm hoping to start doing longer flights if we can improve the shuttle's weapons systems."
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He brightens, the same way he did when she said the future was something to be talked about later, after their mission outside the wall. He's goal-oriented, always has been. To have something useful to focus on here, to have someone willing to help, someone with influence--it's a boon, for many reasons.
"The system's pretty different than what we've got at home, but I can walk you through the schematics--BB-8 did complete scans of it while I was familiarizing myself."
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