riverviewlogs | [ closed/open ] Highway to the danger zone

Yes, sir. [ It's weird that he said please. Not bad. But weird.

Jyn isn't very good at watching where she's going. That's how someone ends up accidentally stabbed even by someone who knows what they're doing. Rey and Cassian seem like they would know what they were doing. No point giving anyone else a weapon if one of them makes it more dangerous, though.

FN-2187 cranes his neck to look back at the door of what may or may not be the designated nap room, considering, brow furrowed. ]

They don't do things right.

[ Which is a scratch on the surface of the feeling of witnessing it, of some layer of impulses and complication he doesn't understand. They don't do things right. They don't listen. They won't stay still.

If he's the only one who makes sense, does that mean he's the one not doing things right?

He hasn't met anyone else like him yet. Cassian almost fit, but-- well. Cassian has some clear misconceptions about stormtroopers as far as this kid can figure. ]

[ Poe cracks eggs into a measuring cup and starts dumping the other ingredients in more liberally than is probably necessary.

Finn calling him sir is too weird to really think about, so he doesn't. ]

The others?

[ He stares at the colorful mix of meat, eggs, and vegetables for a moment before he looks over at Finn. ]

This place seems pretty insane to you, doesn't it. I mean, of course it does.

[ Stating the obvious: an occasional Dameron specialty. ]

The places they come from are different, is all.

[ He's not cruel. He's not going to tell a kid that the life he comes from is backward and monstrous and not how a kid's life should be, not when it's all he's ever known. He tried that with Cassian already and it's not like it made any difference there. Kids shouldn't be in any of the situations these four were caught in. They should have lives beyond war and loss and fighting.

That's the galaxy he wants. That's the kind of life he wants to give as many kids as possible, the kind he had. ]

This place is different. It's not wrong, just... different.

[ Look at him go. Honestly, the casual way Poe is chucking stuff around reads to Finn as him generally really knowing what he's doing. So that's worth watching. 10/10. ]

I know there are different things out there. [ All the old historical places. All the new ones. Planets that are all crowded city or desert or forest, and he knows a little about how to navigate around different terrains. Not as much as he'll know after sims or getting deployed.

Planets and colonies that have nothing while the New Republic looks the other way, who the First Order stepped in to save. Give them work. Resources. And if the Republic found out that those places they wrote off had workers and resources, they'd probably suddenly care about them. Try to push the First Order out for doing what they didn't want to do. Maybe try to take all of it away.

He doesn't think it makes sense to let things fall through the cracks because they're not the right kind of useful. Not if it's something that helping can fix. ]

Trainees are different, too. You can't be exactly the same as someone else. We're just not-- this different. There are rules.

[ (Thanks, space-Hermione.)

He never thought about it much. The fact that different planets means different people, too.

People sound easier to want to protect than planets and resources.

But insane is a really accurate word for ending up tossed into this moon wholesale. And that's putting the looming certainty of undefined Being In Trouble to the wayside. ]

Yeah, but not everyone has the same rules. Not every planet lives the same way. A place with... let's say a place with jungles, and small towns, and farms, it's going to live differently than somewhere that's all snow and mines. They can't have the same rules--wouldn't make sense, would it?

[ He pours a measure of the egg mess into the roller. ]

I guess I'm saying the rules you know, they aren't the rules the rest of the galaxy lives by.

[ And you can't force the rest of the galaxy to do it, either, seems like too much to shovel on right now. Instead he drags a chair over to the counter and pats the seat, indicating Finn should climb up. ]

Watch this. It's stupid.

[ He can't argue with those assertions, but he can definitely look at Poe like he thinks it has to be more complicated than that, and he simply doesn't know enough about galactic law to dispute it further. A look he delivers without reservation.

Here he is. Adrift without ground to stand on. Knowing that Cassian would be better at debating than he is, and Rey would have better chances of climbing out a window without getting caught, and Jyn-- he doesn't know what it is about Jyn, exactly. Cassian and Rey can sort of make sense, no matter how different they are or how wrong about some things they are. Jyn never makes sense. But she still sort of fits? All names, no designations, no standard regulations.

At least if FN-2187 is the odd one out in his cadre, it's because he's better at something than everyone else.

Therefore, this entire side trip is awful.

So he climbs onto the chair and watches the egg roller very intently. We can all absolutely acknowledge that watching this thing at work is dumb as hell, but entertaining. ]

If it's so stupid, why do you keep it? [ Sound mortally offended by watching rolled-up eggs slowly pop out of a weird kitchen appliance challenge 2k18. Has he actually looked away? No. He committed and he's gonna see this through. ]

[ He grins at the kid, a purely genuine smile for the first time. ]

Because stupid things can be fun. People do stupid stuff all the time just because they can.

[ Getting the egg thing out of the rolly bit and onto a plate is always a game of "how badly can I mangle this" but for once he actually manages to Finn's egg... thing. Onto a plate unscathed. He sets it on the table along with a fork and a VERY BLUNT BUTTER KNIFE. ]

Here, give that a shot.

[ Well, it looks rolly and a little horrifying. Watching Poe help it stick the dismount onto the plate, where it sits, all cylindrical, is a process he's never once conceived of having to witness in his young life. He's not sure what he expected.

He wonders how it even works.

But to Poe's credit, it smells like a food and it's got color variety. This truly is a time of high-stakes pros and cons.

FN-2187 neglects the knife, because from what he just saw, this thing isn't really tough enough to merit it anyway. He uses the side of the fork like an animal. Maybe tries to mull over Poe's "people just do stupid stuff sometimes" logic while he's chewing. Stupid stuff like trying a food because someone told them to. He may be like 10, but he's pretty sure if Poe poisoned these eggs for no apparent reason, it would've been tough to hide the. You know. Poison.

Poe has a good smile. That's his opinion. Weird, but good. ]

It's good. [ He's not pretending he's not surprised, he doesn't have those reserves in him. The food bar is down at "tastes like anything". Too low for most people to limbo under, definitely higher up than the ground.

He still doesn't see why the rolly thing is better than actual cooking?? There's a whole kitchen. ]

[ The rolly thing is so much better than actual cooking. For one thing, fewer dishes. Even though they have a dishwasher and it's a really good one. THE POINT REMAINS: FEWER DISHES. ]

Good. I'm glad.

[ He sits down across from Finn, studying him, wondering who this kid could have been if he hadn't been taken by the First Order. He and Poe probably never would have met. Poe himself probably would have died in the belly of the Finalizer.

He shouldn't be grateful, he's not grateful, exactly, that Finn lived this life. He's grateful for where Finn ended up. Part of his. ]

You ever heard of pizza?

[ Two can play at the studying game. Not that Finn hasn't been playing it today already. He just sort of keeps the staring party going like, ah yes, this man is still just crazy enough to be off-putting and just nice enough to also be off-putting, but not necessarily in a way that's bad. That's pretty much his thesis title.

It would be nice to say he doesn't look 100% outright suspicious immediately, but he has even less of a poker face than usual. He could probably hold up a sign that says suspicious in big underlined letters and be less obvious. The plot might have just thickened, okay, he wants to be ready for that. ]

I haven't. [ The clear winner of this battle of the minds, I guess. Dignified and noble. ] Am I about to?

[ He's starting to think if Poe told him his tone was out of line and he had to run laps or something, he actually. Wouldn't have to do that. Poe's not his C.O.

Maybe in theory he shouldn't think about or take behavioral liberties based on a lone gut feeling, but no one is here to stop that either? ]

You are.

[ Poe gets up and fetches his lil communication device/phone/whatever we're calling the network access things these days and dials up their usual pizza place. ]

Solves the problem of what to feed everyone else, too.

[ How much pizza can he get away with feeding these children? He's gonna find out. He will even voluntarily order one half of the pizza with broccoli, just for Finn.

It doesn't even occur to him to reprimand Finn for his tone. His tone is just Finnlike, reassuring in its small way. His friend is still in there, even in the shape of a neurotic child soldier. ]

[ Yeah idk I usually just go with phone bc I'm lazy.

Finn is still 100% watching him like a hawk. That's his new and only hobby now, I guess. Unravel your mysteries, Poe Dameron. You're the only adult he's met so far who seems like a prime mystery unraveling candidate.

He really doesn't usually get to ask a lot of questions. ]

Where are you from?

[ That takes Poe by surprise. ]

Uh, Yavin. Yavin Four. One second.

[ He orders the pizzas as quickly as he can, one cheese with half broccoli, one sausage and pepperoni, then hangs up. ]

I lived on Hosnian Prime for a while, but I'm from Yavin Four.

[ So interrupting something is okay. Not okay-okay. Just not not okay. And yet he can't climb out a window to look for something that doesn't exist on this planet.

He almost hopes he forgets all about this place when he goes back. It's inconsistent.

FN-2187 knows presumably the third grade U.S. history class version of historical events. That is, brief, basic, and heavily biased to make the Empire look better. He's passingly familiar with Yavin. It was a Death Star thing. ]

So you're from the Republic. [ Disappointed, but not surprised. It makes sense. ]

[ Poe's expression softens at the sound of disappointment. God, the misinformation the First Order must have fed these kids. A diet of lies from before they could hold a blaster all the way up until their deployment in the field. ]

I'm from the Republic. I served in the New Republic Navy for almost ten years.

[ Realistically, it's like, what did he honestly expect? It couldn't be clearer that Poe's not First Order. In pretty much every possible way. That he doesn't exactly care for it.

A supporter would have been nice? Because Poe is nice. Even if he's weird. But this is what happens when you get carried away. Try to overlook the obvious. You find yourself sitting in someone's kitchen and finding out they're not only Republic, they're military. It kind of... hurts?

FN-2187 takes to heart a valuable lesson about assuming that probably matches some weird hype lecture his cadre got once upon a time. He sets his fork back down onto the table, neatly parallel to the unused butter knife. And rather like an old lady who heard a political opinion she Doesn't Care For at a big family holiday affair, plus the comparatively shabby composure of a 10 year old: ]

Well, I hope I don't have to kill you.

[ For what it's worth, he guesses. That's right. He's going full Fox And The Hound and no one is here to stop him. The "in trouble for this later" jackpot probably just doubled. It's strangely not his top concern. ]

[ Poe didn't know there was a single sentence out there in the cosmos that could break his heart entirely. He tries to smile at Finn, tries to make some small expression that shows he isn't angry, isn't upset, but all he can manage is a quirk of his lips, brief and sad.

He reaches over to squeeze Finn's shoulder gently. ]

I hope so too.

[ closed/open ] Highway to the danger zone

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