Poe Dameron (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
happybeeps) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
revivalproject2020-06-03 03:52 pm
happybeeps) wrote in revivalproject2020-06-03 03:52 pm
So who talks first? | Calibrations
WHO: Poe Dameron, OPEN
WHERE: Poe's Calibration room
WHAT: Calibrations
WHEN: 3 June - 10 June
WARNINGS: Torture, War, Weapons of Mass Destruction
You step out into a hangar, half sheltered, but open to the air along one side. The sky is blue, and in the distance there's scattered chatter from resistance members passing by as Poe and BB-8 work. Poe's perched atop the broken wing of his X-wing, scorch marks on her belly suggesting they'd recently come out of a tough scrape.
Poe's still half in his flight suit, the upper half tied round his waist, his old jacket sitting off to the side, draped over a ladder rung with care. There's scattered tools and wires to navigate, a makeshift workbench set up with his helmet and blaster abandoned there, next to his data pad which flashes at him with some unread message, though Poe seems to be pointedly ignoring it. Looking quite out of place, there's a tooka doll, not the sort of sentiment one might associate with Poe, and beside it, and old model of an A-Wing.
WHERE: Poe's Calibration room
WHAT: Calibrations
WHEN: 3 June - 10 June
WARNINGS: Torture, War, Weapons of Mass Destruction
You step out into a hangar, half sheltered, but open to the air along one side. The sky is blue, and in the distance there's scattered chatter from resistance members passing by as Poe and BB-8 work. Poe's perched atop the broken wing of his X-wing, scorch marks on her belly suggesting they'd recently come out of a tough scrape.
Poe's still half in his flight suit, the upper half tied round his waist, his old jacket sitting off to the side, draped over a ladder rung with care. There's scattered tools and wires to navigate, a makeshift workbench set up with his helmet and blaster abandoned there, next to his data pad which flashes at him with some unread message, though Poe seems to be pointedly ignoring it. Looking quite out of place, there's a tooka doll, not the sort of sentiment one might associate with Poe, and beside it, and old model of an A-Wing.
no subject
But this isn't his.
Obviously, it must be Poe's. Altair didn't know the man well, didn't know how to really feel about him, or act around him. And he definitely did not want to poke about his mind in this way, much as he hoped that anyone else would refrain from poking about his.
Pasts, secrets, emotions. They should be willingly shared through words, not ripped from a person's very mind.
Arms crossed, he approached Poe, looking up at where he sits perched, "What are you doing?"
The doll sort of caught his eye. He was very much trying to ignore the temptation to touch it.
no subject
"Trying to fix the ship up before they come," he answered, glancing out at the blue skies with a frown. "...What are you doing here?"
no subject
He was too used himself now, to scramble for repairs before the enemy came, on days where even blue skies seemed to be a threat.
"I don't know. Seems invasive. But it's not me."
All his Sith power couldn't do something like this. The Agrii though, the Agrii were capable of it. And Altair didn't like that. Not for himself, not for everyone else. Maybe other people didn't have as much to hide as he did, but still.
"And I don't want to know."
As much as he didn't want to be known.
no subject
"If you stay you're going to have to fight."
no subject
If he could, then the Agrii had to be in a merciful mood indeed.
"You're expecting a fight here?"
A battle inside his own... Mind? Mental construct? Altair was almost curious as to how that would play out. If anything could hurt Poe or hurt him in here.
no subject
The distant Resistance members didn't seem too pressed, a few serious faces, but there was the odd laugh ringing through the air. Whatever was coming, the alarm didn't seem to have been sounded yet.