[ Finn takes his requisite oh moment. Because the logic does naturally fall into place at that, as far as Poe's whole emotional journey and fresh wave of "Finn can do good things" energy goes.
You know, makes more sense than broccoli. How can he be chill about this. ]
Right. That. Yeah.
[ He can't say how much of that satisfaction is coming from him off the top of his head, how much of the pride. The "we can't just fight what we hate, we have to save what we love too" sentiment still rattles around in his brain now and again, but, well.
The things he loves weren't exactly on his mind for most of that. More the anger. Even if it wasn't solely on his own behalf, he knows what it was. Anger, and that familiar old thread of fear after he hit her properly the first time, after he fired. That whole two seconds of daring to hope, even for something as small as turning an enemy into the enemy of the other enemy. She had an awful lot of traitor talk to throw around for someone in her position. For a second, he really thought--
And a little guilt trickles in, then; it's a hard map of logic to parse. If he hadn't called her out, if they hadn't believed him, she wouldn't have put them down. And it feels worse than just shooting someone before they manage to shoot him first, somehow. He feels weirdly more responsible for it. But if he hadn't, he'd be dead. But it's not like he's worth more. But it's not like he's worth less. Just a big set of pointless thought circles.
Maybe someday he'll hold up the mirror and there won't be anyone to stop a handful of troopers from having a thought. ]
Turns out people do get what they have coming once in a while.
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You know, makes more sense than broccoli. How can he be chill about this. ]
Right. That. Yeah.
[ He can't say how much of that satisfaction is coming from him off the top of his head, how much of the pride. The "we can't just fight what we hate, we have to save what we love too" sentiment still rattles around in his brain now and again, but, well.
The things he loves weren't exactly on his mind for most of that. More the anger. Even if it wasn't solely on his own behalf, he knows what it was. Anger, and that familiar old thread of fear after he hit her properly the first time, after he fired. That whole two seconds of daring to hope, even for something as small as turning an enemy into the enemy of the other enemy. She had an awful lot of traitor talk to throw around for someone in her position. For a second, he really thought--
And a little guilt trickles in, then; it's a hard map of logic to parse. If he hadn't called her out, if they hadn't believed him, she wouldn't have put them down. And it feels worse than just shooting someone before they manage to shoot him first, somehow. He feels weirdly more responsible for it. But if he hadn't, he'd be dead. But it's not like he's worth more. But it's not like he's worth less. Just a big set of pointless thought circles.
Maybe someday he'll hold up the mirror and there won't be anyone to stop a handful of troopers from having a thought. ]
Turns out people do get what they have coming once in a while.
[ Boy, he would absolutely fight her again. ]