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.
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The troopers pat Poe down roughly before reporting, "Nothing Sir."
"Put him on board." The order sounds almost bored as Poe is marched away.
A chrome plated soldier with a long cape approaches Ren, a hard feminine voice greeting him through her helmet. "Sir. The villagers?"
Kylo pauses briefly, and turns. "Kill them all."
The troopers encircling the villagers raise and cock their weapons, and pleas can be heard echoing out as the panic rises. One lone trooper hesitates, lost among the crowd.
"On my command," the woman continues calmly, "Fire." Red blaster bolts ring out, distinctly different from the blue of Poe's gun, and screams echo as Poe struggles against the troopers leading him into the ship, looking back in horror. "No- no."
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“They did nothing wrong. Fuck, they did NOTHING wrong.”
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"Kid- I'm sorry- I didn't want you to see that- You shouldn't be in here..."
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That was a lie. But he still accepted it and shook his head.
“Sorry. This place is... it’s a mess. What the fuck is even going on? It’s almost like I’m in your damn head.”
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"You are," he answers matter-of-factly.
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"Dude, I'm not a telepath."
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"Does this seem like something you'd make up?"
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"You didn't make this up. You're in here," he taps his temple, "Plus side, you're only mutant we've got now, so...percentage wise, I'd say your people are happy."
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"You want a way out?" he asks casually.
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"Yeah. No offense, your mind is pretty and spacious and all, but... Dude, it's so not for me."
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"Thanks, man. Be good," he says, heading for the exit. "We'll talk later."