[ closed/open ] Highway to the danger zone

[volitaunt]

who: Poe + CR + ALSO YOU, MAYBE??
what: Catch-all with closed and open prompts
when: April/May
where: ALL AROUND LE TOWN, more prompts to come i'm sure
warnings: Poe attempting to babysit ten thousand tiny Star Warses and then self-destructing when he doesn't have that distraction any more???

Comments

[bythehand]

[ 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. ]

[volitaunt]

[ 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?

[bythehand]

[ 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? ]

[volitaunt]

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. ]

[bythehand]

[ 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?

[volitaunt]

[ 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.

when you think your inbox is handled but you find a week+ old tag

[bythehand]

[ 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. ]

it me

[volitaunt]

[ 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.

[bythehand]

[ 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. ]

[volitaunt]

[ 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.