[ Opens by saying one-on-one threads are rad, but I would definitely rather pre-coordinate/hash out anything with 3 or more people involved. You're all on my plurk, it's fine, I'm super happy to plot whatever.
Finn is, uh. Reticent for the most part, when it comes to any of the things that are easier to pretend to ignore. Not beyond the sort of base reacting that comes with it, meeting eyes with someone as if to say it's not just you, we all heard it, the fireside conversation trying to figure out what to make of it all. But not keen to drag out-- any sort of admission, maybe. Owning any of those sounds or corner-of-the-eye flashes. And some of them, he does know. Blasters firing. Fleeting glimpses of black and white and chrome, or indistinct figures in fraying, muted fabrics. The smell of smoke and ozone.
He's cagey about his history on a good day. This sets him more on edge than he's used to being, and that makes it no exception to the caginess rule. There are four of them on this team, right? Let it all bleed together. Likely as not, nobody wants to go digging.
Of course, like most things he decides to handle by actively refusing to acknowledge them, there's only so much time before that stops being a viable option. Welcome to day four, where we hear strange sounds that we go to investigate for the sake of a secure perimeter, or where we catch sight of things just familiar or unsettling enough to try to track them down. When I think about it this is by and large a very impulse-driven team. Yikes.
All of these ghost options are definitely going to include mean ghosts yelling mean stuff eventually. I'm leaning into it with the florence + the machine references. ]
i. seven devils.
[ Some of the inherent problem that goes hand in hand with apparitions hell-bent on inspiring fear or grief or anger, in exposing dark secrets or cutting guilt, is that Finn's guiltiest memories are comprised of things he's not necessarily set to run into and fight against.
While there's still something to be said for guilt and anger as far as his history with the First Order goes-- at least as far as Roy is concerned, being the only person on this particular crew who hasn't heard it or witnessed it for themselves-- Finn's hangups ultimately more towards the events in that history than the association itself.
He was deployed twice before defecting. Both of those deployments involved being stood in front of innocent people and told to fire. He never did. Which, surprisingly, does very very little to put a balm on the instinctive guilt, the long pushed down myriad of emotions associated with those missions. He's talked about Jakku maybe once or twice in nearly a year of quarantine. His first deployment, how it ended, how it sat-- well, that's always been a lot farther down.
Finn is not ready to round a turn and find an out of place civilian. Not one of the villagers from Jakku, dirt-smeared and disheveled. Not any of the miners or negotiators from his first deployment, sickly and malnourished, maybe even sporting an injury already. Maybe more than one at a time, some odd facsimile of flanking, closing in ranks around him. It's safe to say that on the list of things he's ready or prepared to deal with at any given point in time, this definitely isn't it.
The most popular apparition mood of the day is along the lines of saying you just stood there.
This maybe isn't fine.
He doesn't raise his rifle. ]
ii. heavy.
[ Or hey, all aboard the more straightforward other guilt train. This is a much shorter prompt, and it's mostly because I'm losing my steam. But it's also just more straightforward in general.
Sometimes, when you're on an expedition in the woods, malicious apparitions like to really get on in there and remind you of all the good times. That time your teammate you used to look out for and felt responsible for died right in front of you. That time you defected from a lifetime of conditioning and part of you feels guilty for being the only one out no matter how little sense it makes to feel bad about it.
It's the little things.
So this is essentially for all those more direct First Order-based incidents.
Join Finn as he tries to yeet himself right over to the ghost of a dying Slip and immediately gets punched in the face. More of a guilt trip ghost. Not a ghost who's good at fighting. Which doesn't help Finn much because I think at basically any point in these prompts it's safe to assume he's losing his shit in some capacity. Meet Finn's other old teammate, Nines, who is still operating on this anger level, yes. Help PVP Captain Phasma, roughly 6'4 of swole, chrome-plated malconent, because galaxy-brain level fear is the thought that he'll literally never be done with her in any respect.
All that sort of content, which I promise I'll write with much more gravitas as it happens. If you've got no specific preferences, I'll randomize it up! nbd. ]
iii. wildcard.
[ for... all the rest! things not listed! pre-day-four nonsense. aftermath convos. the discussion of how ethical it is to keep roasting porgs. you feel me. this is a no-good, very bad day all around. finn will punch your ghosts for you if you want. ]
hot finnteraction prompts Click Here
Finn is, uh. Reticent for the most part, when it comes to any of the things that are easier to pretend to ignore. Not beyond the sort of base reacting that comes with it, meeting eyes with someone as if to say it's not just you, we all heard it, the fireside conversation trying to figure out what to make of it all. But not keen to drag out-- any sort of admission, maybe. Owning any of those sounds or corner-of-the-eye flashes. And some of them, he does know. Blasters firing. Fleeting glimpses of black and white and chrome, or indistinct figures in fraying, muted fabrics. The smell of smoke and ozone.
He's cagey about his history on a good day. This sets him more on edge than he's used to being, and that makes it no exception to the caginess rule. There are four of them on this team, right? Let it all bleed together. Likely as not, nobody wants to go digging.
Of course, like most things he decides to handle by actively refusing to acknowledge them, there's only so much time before that stops being a viable option. Welcome to day four, where we hear strange sounds that we go to investigate for the sake of a secure perimeter, or where we catch sight of things just familiar or unsettling enough to try to track them down. When I think about it this is by and large a very impulse-driven team. Yikes.
All of these ghost options are definitely going to include mean ghosts yelling mean stuff eventually. I'm leaning into it with the florence + the machine references. ]
i. seven devils.
[ Some of the inherent problem that goes hand in hand with apparitions hell-bent on inspiring fear or grief or anger, in exposing dark secrets or cutting guilt, is that Finn's guiltiest memories are comprised of things he's not necessarily set to run into and fight against.
While there's still something to be said for guilt and anger as far as his history with the First Order goes-- at least as far as Roy is concerned, being the only person on this particular crew who hasn't heard it or witnessed it for themselves-- Finn's hangups ultimately more towards the events in that history than the association itself.
He was deployed twice before defecting. Both of those deployments involved being stood in front of innocent people and told to fire. He never did. Which, surprisingly, does very very little to put a balm on the instinctive guilt, the long pushed down myriad of emotions associated with those missions. He's talked about Jakku maybe once or twice in nearly a year of quarantine. His first deployment, how it ended, how it sat-- well, that's always been a lot farther down.
Finn is not ready to round a turn and find an out of place civilian. Not one of the villagers from Jakku, dirt-smeared and disheveled. Not any of the miners or negotiators from his first deployment, sickly and malnourished, maybe even sporting an injury already. Maybe more than one at a time, some odd facsimile of flanking, closing in ranks around him. It's safe to say that on the list of things he's ready or prepared to deal with at any given point in time, this definitely isn't it.
The most popular apparition mood of the day is along the lines of saying you just stood there.
This maybe isn't fine.
He doesn't raise his rifle. ]
ii. heavy.
[ Or hey, all aboard the more straightforward other guilt train. This is a much shorter prompt, and it's mostly because I'm losing my steam. But it's also just more straightforward in general.
Sometimes, when you're on an expedition in the woods, malicious apparitions like to really get on in there and remind you of all the good times. That time your teammate you used to look out for and felt responsible for died right in front of you. That time you defected from a lifetime of conditioning and part of you feels guilty for being the only one out no matter how little sense it makes to feel bad about it.
It's the little things.
So this is essentially for all those more direct First Order-based incidents.
Join Finn as he tries to yeet himself right over to the ghost of a dying Slip and immediately gets punched in the face. More of a guilt trip ghost. Not a ghost who's good at fighting. Which doesn't help Finn much because I think at basically any point in these prompts it's safe to assume he's losing his shit in some capacity. Meet Finn's other old teammate, Nines, who is still operating on this anger level, yes. Help PVP Captain Phasma, roughly 6'4 of swole, chrome-plated malconent, because galaxy-brain level fear is the thought that he'll literally never be done with her in any respect.
All that sort of content, which I promise I'll write with much more gravitas as it happens. If you've got no specific preferences, I'll randomize it up! nbd. ]
iii. wildcard.
[ for... all the rest! things not listed! pre-day-four nonsense. aftermath convos. the discussion of how ethical it is to keep roasting porgs. you feel me. this is a no-good, very bad day all around. finn will punch your ghosts for you if you want. ]