Poe Dameron (
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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"Yeah, you think you can squeeze in? Or should I let you fly solo?"
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"Little tight," he teased, and he gave Tony a considering look, hands dropping back down to settle casually over his thighs. "You do this sort of thing out side of a guy's head, or is this a mindscape only kind of deal?"
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"Not my boyfriend-" he correctly breathlessly. BB-8 whistled from below, seeming to counter that response, and Poe rolled his eyes in amusement. "Don't play favourites, Buddy."
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"It always seems like a better idea than it turns out to be," he agreed, glancing round the cockpit. Not nearly enough room to really enjoy themselves.
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