So who talks first? | Calibrations

[happybeeps]

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.

Comments

[doubled_speed]

“Don’t,” Tommy hisses, jerking away from Poe. Because... well, he doesn’t need the comfort. “I’m not fucking so weak that I can’t handle a memory like that. I’ve seen bad shit, and that was nothing.”

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.”

[happybeeps]

Poe doesn't press, though he does arch a brow, giving BB-8 a pat and moving to sort through a box of parts.

"You are," he answers matter-of-factly.

[doubled_speed]

Uh... that makes no sense.

"Dude, I'm not a telepath."

[happybeeps]

Poe shrugs a shoulder. He doesn't know how it works. He just knows that this is all inside his mind.

"Does this seem like something you'd make up?"

[doubled_speed]

“I can count to a trillion in the time it takes a person to count a single second. Yeah, I make up a lot of shit. But this... is definitely different. Normally I just imagine a world where mutants aren’t treated like shit.”

[happybeeps]

Poe gestures out to the sky, to the unfamiliar plant life, to the two moons hanging over head.

"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."

[doubled_speed]

"That's not true at all. We've got Billy. We also had Lorna and Mimic but... Guess this place doesn't keep us around either."

[happybeeps]

"In here," Poe repeats with a smirk. The only mutant in his mind, not the world outside this place.

"You want a way out?" he asks casually.

[doubled_speed]

Oh, well, that's fair. Yes, he felt like he had to make an argument otherwise.

"Yeah. No offense, your mind is pretty and spacious and all, but... Dude, it's so not for me."

[happybeeps]

"Here-" Poe grabs his rank badge from his things, pausing to turn the datapad over and hide the notification, passing the badge over. "That should open up the door for you. The sensor'll pick it up."

[doubled_speed]

Cool. Tommy nods and heads for the door.

"Thanks, man. Be good," he says, heading for the exit. "We'll talk later."