And I'll use you as a warning sign

[volitaunt]

Who: Okay this turned into a Poe catchall + Various
Where: Various locations/listed in the headings
When: May 1st-31st
What: May Catchall - specific closed prompts, some open threads
Warnings: N/A yet
[Open and Closed]



May 10th - Open

Tequila Mockingbird has Cassian's liquor of choice in the name, which is why Poe picked it. He's not a big drinker, but between the memories, the conversation with Jyn, the... party. Well. He has a few reasons to drink.

The reason he picked for tonight was to pour one out for L'ulo, for Muran, for the pilots whose names and faces he hasn't yet remembered. Not for his mother--it doesn't seem right, to drink for her. She wouldn't want it, her son inebriated and alone at a bar, wallowing in her memory. Poe won't pretend that isn't what he's doing. Wallowing, letting himself feel the grief and pain he tries so hard to outpace.

Jyn is right. He has to stop sometime, and taking the opportunity now to brace himself for future losses is better than breaking under one too many.

His table is in the corner, in a quiet part of the restaurant. Not by any virtue of paranoia. Poe doesn't have the same hardwired need to keep his back to a wall and his eyes on the exits that some veterans do. It was just the most private space he could find while still being around people. Drinking at home where Rey might have seen him would have felt worse than this, but drinking somewhere entirely alone wouldn't have been right either. He might not have squadmates to share a glass with, but having some form of life circulating around him is better than being entirely alone. Plus, there's BB-8, sitting underneath the table, domed head tilted to rest against Poe's leg.

Maker, he's glad to have his droid.


May 12th - Open

Poe is beating up a freestanding punching bag thing. He's been going to Crossbones Boxing in the morning on the days he doesn't work. He'll go stir-crazy if he just hangs around the house, and being grounded for this long is driving him bonkers as it is. He's tried to keep his head down, tried to be good, but man (thump, kick, wham) he going to blow a sensor if he doesn't get some air time.

It doesn't help that beating up things is usually the time he spends talking to BB-8 about whatever's on his mind. Here, where it's public and monitored like everywhere else, they have to keep up the same act. So BB-8 sits, watching, grumbling to himself with a towel draped over his head dome, while Poe tries to kill an inanimate object.


May 13th - Open

Poe is in a tree.

It is a tall tree. A very tall tree, near the edge of town, just inside those woods they aren't technically supposed to enter.

He is very high in this very tall tree.

Fuck gravity to be honest.

Comments

[volitaunt]

"I hope you don't take it bad if I say that is a little bit scary."

He's going to hug her, if she'll let him. Hug her, step back, take her hands. "But considering we're already in my head, not as scary as it could be."

[coy]

She looks at him, shaking her head when he says he hopes she won't take it poorly. She can't blame him for that, the idea of having your agency taken away from you...

He hugs her and then takes her hands, a soft smile forming on her lips for a brief moment. "I wouldn't ever use it on you, not unless you asked me to. I... I've had it done to me and... it was used on me for... really bad stuff. So I would never do that to anyone. Ever."

[volitaunt]

Another hug. This one more fierce than comforting, protective rather than gentle. She's being honest with him, totally honest, and he owes her the same in return.

"The First Order got inside my head when torture didn't work." He pulls back to press a hand to her cheek. This time, the motion is meant to comfort. A platonic gesture. "Bad people aren't very creative, are they."

[coy]

For a moment, the world around them flickers. It's quick and he may not notice but when his arms wrap around her like that, for a moment, she forgets herself. She forgets and wants to get lost in that comfort. It's only a moment, one that only lasts as long as he hold her, then he's pulling back to look at her.

And she looks at him, her brow furrowing when tells her the truth and well, explains what she thinks she saw. "No, they are not." She lifts a hand to touch his at her cheek. "Is that what I saw? Before? Was that what was going to happen?"

[volitaunt]

He closes his eyes, gathering himself a moment before he nods. Thinking about it makes him want to be sick. He remembers now, at least, that he didn't doom the Resistance, only because the interrogator was too careless to ask the right questions. He still lost them control of BB-8, and it's a miracle of the Force and the goodness of people that they got him back. What he could have given away, all the things he could have accidentally given up--

Poe swallows, feeling like he's going to puke even though he knows this is a dream. Do people puke in dreams?

"Yeah. They kept after me for... I don't know, a long time. Then they brought in their big gun."

[coy]

She swears she can taste vomit in her mouth and she wonders if that's coming from him or not. She strokes his hand before moving her other hand to touch his shoulder, to try and soothe him. "That last guy..." She nods a little before looking up at him. "He's not here and he can't get you here. None of them can. This is your head, you get to control it."

[volitaunt]

He thinks I couldn't control it then.

That's too close to self-pity for his tastes. Instead, he smiles, falsely at first and then more genuinely as a thought strikes him: "Are you up for flying?"

[coy]

No, he couldn't control it then but that was before. And that moment has already passed, just like when Damon did the things he did to her had happened before. They couldn't change what their pasts held.

For moment, his question takes her by surprise. The confusion on her face may tell him that much. Still, she catches on quick enough, her eyes flitting towards the ship next to them, lips curving just a little. "You mean...?"

[volitaunt]

"Oh yeah." He grins. "I mean, we can take something bigger-- A-wings aren't exactly made for two adult passengers." He looks around them, but the farm isn't rife with possibilities.

D'Qar, though. All it takes is the thought of the base and they're there, the misty hills and mountains rising in the distance, the apron thick with parked ships of every shape and size. Everywhere, activity. Uniforms. Mixed urgency and casual camaraderie.

A cadre of pilots in orange jog by, and Poe watches them go, briefly and intensely homesick.

"We can take one of the small transports. Not the fastest out there by any means, but they've got room."

[coy]

Whatever urge Caroline has to make a joke about sitting in his lap is gone because suddenly they're lurched into a new place, a new memory. She lets out a breath, a little surprised at the sudden change of scenery but one she gets her bearings, she's fine, looking around at the memory he has of this place.

None of the people can see them or hear them, unless he targets some specific memory but even then, it'd just be like watching a movie.

"What is a small transport?"

[volitaunt]

"Transport is just a blanket class for ships capable of hauling cargo or passengers."

He grabs her hand, leading her along the apron, pointing out the X-wings, the Millennium Falcon, the older Y-wings and B-wings, rattling off specs and modifications and what models preceded or came from the ones here. "Our X-wings are a coupla generations behind the New Republic Navy, but I wouldn't trade them for the newest T85."

He stops next to his own X-wing, with its black and orange paintjob, beautiful and pristine. "This is Black One. She's mine."

[coy]

"Right," she says, realizing that she honestly doesn't know much about ships or planes other than what she's seen in Top Gun or some random space movie. She almost makes a Top Gun joke but keeps it to herself, considering he wouldn't know who Tom Cruise is, let alone Top Gun.

She does let him lead her through the virtual gallery of ships, letting him name off different ships, some of it makes her think she's heard of these before but she brushes off the sense of deja vu as a symptom of being inside his head.

When they stop at his X-wing, she asks, "Why is it called Black one?"

[volitaunt]

"She's the flagship of Black Squadron." He reaches up to run his free hand along the underside of the X-wing's nose. Then he looks at her, surprised. "Wait, have I never--"

Of course he hasn't. Because he just assumes it's understood. He doesn't flaunt his position, doesn't really think much of it except when they're in the air. "I'm in command of the Resistance Starfighter Corps."

[coy]

Her eyebrows lift high and she looks suitably impressed, even if she's not sure what the Resistance Starfighter Corps is, she can read between the lines. It's a big deal that he's the commander of this thing. She grins at him, "Wait, how old are you?"

[volitaunt]

"...Thirty-two." Uh. Hold on. "How old are you?"

[coy]

She laughs, moving to give his shoulder a playful push-- "Cradle-robber! I'm twenty-two."

[volitaunt]

"Hey!" He's grinning, though. "Don't you have to be old to be a cradle robber? I'm not old."

Poe shakes his head, drawing her back along the through the crowd to a small, sleek, transport vehicle with large domed windows over the cockpit. It's the ship they use--used--to make official trips to the Hosnian system and other New Republic strongholds.

No one will care if they take it now. "Here's our ride."

[coy]

"Whatever you say, old man." Of course, he didn't seem ten years older than her, not that it mattered. But he had a youthful exuberance that made him seem younger to her. And she lets him guide her through the crowd until they stop at another ship.

"So... we're going to ride in this thing?"

[volitaunt]

"We're going to fly in this thing."

He grabs her hand again and doesn't quite run for the gangplank, but he's definitely excited. He hasn't flown for almost a month, a month. He's never been grounded that long. The ganplank lifts closed behind them, smooth and quiet.

Poe drops into the pilot's seat and starts priming systems, hands flicking over the controls with familiarity that makes it seem as though he's flown this thing a hundred times. His mood improves with every tapped button and screen. "Get comfortable and buckle up."

He gestures to the copilot's chair.

[coy]

His excitement is, quite literally, everything. She feels it in every inch of his mind and hers. It's only a dream but she can feel the joy coursing through him as she moves to follow him, careful not to break the mental connection now. He moves his hands over the controls like a musician playing a piano, like he could do it blindfolded.

She moves to sit where he gestures, settling in the seat and trying to figure out the buckles as he gets the ship ready. "Fair warning..." She glances at him. "I've never been in space."

[volitaunt]

"Everyone has a first time."

The ship tremors underneath them and starts to rise, angling slowly upward as it does. He turns, quickly showing her which buckle goes where. He plops back into his own seat, buckling up himself. He throttles up, gravity pressing them both against the seats. He goes easy, not immediately trying to break atmo. Let her take in the ground falling away beneath them, the hills and mountains growing smaller all the way to the horizon. "Ready?"

[coy]

"I haven't really been in a plane either," she says it tersely, grabbing the arms of the seat she's in and leaning back against the chair, her eyes watching as the ground falls out of view and they are getting higher and higher. But she doesn't look anxious, at least overly so. She probably looks both a bit anxious and exhilarated.

"Yeah."

[volitaunt]

"Welcome to the deep end." He winks at her, perfectly confident. Dream or no dream, this is his element.

Poe accelerates smoothly, anticipation rising along with their speed. There's a slight buck as they hit atmospheric drag, the heat of their exit sending little darts of flame across the surface of the windows. "Don't worry. That's completely normal. We'll be out of it in--"

The pressure of acceleration lifts. The flames vanish. What's left is the asteroid belt that circles D'Qar at a distance and endless, endless stars.

[coy]

Before she exclaim that the ship is on fire, he goes on to explain that it's normal and suddenly... Her eyes widen and she leans forward slowly, without even realizing she's doing it. It's a dream. She has to remind herself it's a dream, that she's not actually in space, that they are laying in a bed together dreaming. But she's still moved by the sight of it, of the countless stars that lay ahead of her.

"This is..."

[volitaunt]

"It's everything."

Poe breathes the words with genuine reverence. Being in a cockpit felt good. Accelerating up through the blue sky felt amazing. Being here, a speck in a starfield-- it's indescribable. A few brushes of the controls and he's angled them to into orbit and cut the engines, leaving their transport suspended over the curve of D'Qar, its endless green and blue.