[ This week in The Quarantine Is Not A Cool Place, imminent domination looms on the horizon? Apparently? Finn met one of these guys once in the ice maze (where he presumably learned that he's Taako) and he seemed like an okay guy, actually. But hey, what does Finn know. That guy he met either deadass murdered someone off-screen or turned them into a bird maybe, both of which have been established as fully feasible and fully horrifying.
Realistically, Finn probably stopped paying very close attention the second they hit the "freedom is a lie, we'll bring order" sentiment. He was busy losing his fucking mind, which may or may not have actually just been gripped by the icy fingers of straight-up panic. What he knows is his mind has long outlined for him that he cannot afford to not take this message seriously, no matter how weird it may be.
Anyway WHAT'S UP, FINN'S HOME, EVIDENCED PERHAPS MOST CLEARLY BY THE WAY HE GOES TO TOWN SLAMMING THE FRONT DOOR OPEN. He pulls from somewhere dumb like a closet shelf or under one of the beds... three homemade bug out bags! He has also stashed for his convenience an empty one. Finn's not dumb, okay. He prepared for this possibility within a week of arriving. ]
Who's still here?! We need to regroup!
[ That empty bag is the one he's starting to ransack this room to fill, as efficiently as possible. Mostly random snack foods and stuff that could supplement what he already put together rations-wise, but at this point he's also stressed out enough to start reaching the "if it fits it ships" event horizon. Nothing is safe. Which, ironically, is the whole point and he was right all along and he KNEW IT. ]
[ Poe, for his part, had just posted his reply. He has his feet propped up, and had been scrolling through the other responses, shaking his head at the people taking Taako seriously. Less because he thinks they're dumb for doing it than because he wonders if Taako and company know what the heck they're doing. Yeah, there's a certain level of humor in it, but--
And lo, the door crashes open. Poe jumps, dropping the communicator in his lap as BB-8 (under the desk) gives an alarmed whistle. Then, suddenly, there is a whirlwind shaped vaguely like Finn dismantling their living quarters. Poe spends several long seconds just watching, trying to figure out what the heck Finn is doing. If something went that wrong--
Oh look, another unfinished thought, because Poe just figured out what this is about. He tosses the communicator onto his desk and gets up, trying to grab Finn's arm and get him to hold still for a minute. ] Finn. Finn! Calm down. Just take a breath.
Hey. [ A grunt, his voice both strained and tinny. John might just recognize the clankity noises of a ship engine being worked on. ] Figured I'd work on those boosters while the shuttle's got a few days on the ground. What d'you need?
[ Interested, but also around a mouthful of peanut butter: ] Yeah?
[ A BRIEF STRUGGLE TO SWALLOW, then he gives up and pulls milk out of the fridge and downs some of it like a heathen even though it's white and weird. Glug glug.
[It's been days...weeks since she last saw Poe. How things ended...it wasn't right. Rey shouldn't have brought up that plan...she shouldn't have involved Leia. There are so many things she wants to apologize for, and she's started to text Poe dozens of times, but nothing ever looked right. Her words didn't feel like they were good enough.
After everything that's happened, and what she's learned...she knows she needs to text him. A way to reach out, to repair what she tore down.]
I'm sorry.
[The message is short, very short, but it's all she can bring herself to write. Giving him something that was long winded, or flowery wasn't her.
And if he didn't reply back, then at least she didn't waste both of their time by writing something super long.]
[ He stares at the text for a little while before he replies. He doesn't know what happened to her, while he and the rest of the Resistance struggled to survive. He does know she saved their lives when it came down to it. She drew off three squardons of TIE fighters, she unsealed them from inside the caves. She and Chewie gave them the means to escape.
There are things that still matter, choices and arguments made that can't be undone. There's trust still to be earned back. But she saved the Resistance, for better or worse. That's were more than a choice she almost but didn't quite make. ]
Exactly how strong was your stance on me "not becoming a murderer" last time you checked?
[ If Finn was really serious he wouldn't be asking. He'd be doing the thing where he lets impulse take the wheel, and doing. Something. Not sure exactly what.
... and okay, it's still tempting to gun it (metaphorically or literally), is the thing. It's Hux. There's more baggage there than the Falcon could take in one trip. As a respected member of a protective organization, known for maybe occasionally shoving people out of the way to just hug friends in broad daylight, that is not an ideal temptation.
So the next best step is to-- touch home base, sort of. Because usually if he's not feeling especially reasonable, Poe manages to step in and cover where he falls short. Finn is an okay person who makes quips and is in control of himself, obviously, and he is very good at restraint. But if he's not necessarily, he can generally rely on Poe Dameron. That is, in so many ways, the bare essence of teamwork and trust, probably. ]
It's more a stance on "not getting put in prison on a backwater moon," but I think it depends on the murderee.
[ Which is not an answer Poe would have given before they remembered what happened on Crait and before it. It's not an answer he would have given before he tried to gun down Ren in cold blood. ]
[ It's a shared afternoon off, when Poe invites John over. Vacation time in place. Supplies for camping half-bought, wholly planned.
Poe feels strange about the whole thing. Ever since he accidentally called them a couple, gave a conventional name to whatever it is he and John have, he's had a funny feeling in his stomach.
It's there now as he watches John sleep, the two of them laying side by side on the big bed Poe only uses with John.
You're beautiful, you know that? Poe thinks. He reaches out, brushing John's jaw with his fingertips, not wanting to wake the other man but wanting to touch him.
This is strange. It's unfamiliar. It's terrifying, in a way Poe isn't used to feeling. But in this moment, with the sun streaking in through a crack in the curtains and John's breathing a slow and steady rhythm in the silence, Poe is pretty sure he can let it just be.
( This is peace, he thinks, this is peace, and he's missed it. ) ]
[It's the first truly lazy afternoon John's had in a while. There's no shortage of work to be done for the shuttle team, or RR-1, especially in preparation of their vacation. He can always find an excuse to stay busy.
Relaxing, on the other hand, has always taken a concentrated effort. Even on his days off John fills most of his day with physical training, sports, and teaching himself new, pointless skills, like playing the guitar. That one's got a lot of work before it becomes relaxing.
He was happy when Poe called, and asked him over in the middle of the day. It was a first. They had sex, not unusual, but then he fell asleep. Another first. Usually Poe has somewhere to be, or says he does, and John does to. Because he'd rather leave than get kicked out, and up until now? He's only passed out at Poe's place twice, and one of those times was to keep watch on Poe through the night after being put through the wringer by Kylo Ren.
Today was different. The sex was slow, a marathon versus the usual sprint, and more intimate in every way. As if the word 'couple' had changed everything, and maybe it had. John fell asleep after, without asking if he could stay. He hadn't been thinking. Content and sedated, Poe was the only thing on his mind. He dreamed of brown eyes and messy curls instead of a pale hand biting into his chest, sucking the life out of him decades at a time.
He doesn't wake up all at once. He feels the room first, warm and bright with sunshine, then the presence of another person, familiar, he knows it's Poe by the weight of him, and his smell, the touch is last, light as a feather. He moves against the sheets, yawns, and stretches, cracking open one eye to look at Poe.]
Hey. [He swallows another yawn] Sorry, must've... dozed off.
[After their second day at the hotel, most of which was spent in tranquil recovery, they spend most of the third walking around the city, and only come back after dark.
John's been quiet, but close. Speaking softly. Touching more than talking. He even took Poe's arm earlier in the day, when they were cutting through the crowded marketplace. Letting him take the lead.
They had dinner somewhere nice, off the beaten path, not too far from the hotel, and John watched Poe over candlelight. His eyes always on him, even though there's music, and dancing, and plenty of skin to be seen, considering the festivities.
Walking back to the hotel was a quiet affair, too, aside from when Poe was talking. Alongside the river. John takes his arm again there, too. His grip gentle on the back of Poe's bicep.
Approaching the door of their room, John's hand slides down to Poe's wrist, then his hand. Wordlessly interlacing their fingers.]
[ John has been odd all day. Not a bad kind of odd, really--Poe likes the feeling of John's hand on his arm, the dozens of little touches as they wandered. John's eyes in the candlelight were hypnotizing, the meal quiet.
On their way back to the hotel, Poe fills the silence, at least for a while. Rambles first about improvements he's thinking about for the shuttle, then about the things that Jess Pava could do if she was on the moon. How they'd all have ships by now--she would have found a way to build them or dismantled a building trying. Then he gets quiet. Listens to the festivities as they go on, relaxing under John's hands, the need to speak fading.
He's pulling his keys out of the pocket of his jacket--the one John likes--when John takes his hand. Poe lifts John's hand up to kiss his knuckles. ] What is it? You've been quiet all day.
[ See the attached: a picture of a shop door with apparently an entire actual building pressed directly against it. So that's neat.
The thing is, there are not. A lot of ways to casually be like "lmao guess why I'm about 45% worried for my life rn." Part of Finn thinks he could stand to leave it off until after that building disappears and he gets out. What good does it do to do broadcast the unchangeable?
The other part of him thinks okay, don't do that though, maybe make sure someone knows this situation is even happening. Just in case. Things are contained by the very public setting and societal convention for now, and that gives him the luxury of time. Take advantage of that. Basic strategy. He learned that when he was like twelve.
As a follow-up while he figures his shit out, and tries to think of what the least serious people he knows would do to make delivering this news easier: his usual brand. ]
Poe. I hate this moon, and we are never coming to this store again. I want a map on a wall with the address crossed out.
[ It takes a while for him to reply. He's not sure what to say. He's not sure how much he gets to ask for, how honest he gets to be.
But John was there the night he found out that he got Paige Tico and her entire squadron killed.
He can feel himself tearing up as he picks up his device to look at the message again, has felt himself tearing up for going on three weeks now and has beat it down or gotten himself beaten to achieve the same ends. ]
[It's 2am, and John Sheppard is drunk. Not just a little drunk. A lot drunk.
John knocks on Poe's door. Too loud, probably. Someone looks out their window at him. He stays on the second doorstep, jacket pulled tight around himself over his PJs. A t shirt and flannel bottoms. Runners. He tried to sleep. He did.
He knocks one more time. Then he pukes in Poe's bushes. Turns out jack, pills, and anxiety aren't a great combo.]
[ BB-8 is the one who opens the door, before Poe ever gets there. He opens it just in time for the sounds of retching to carry into the apartment, and whistles alarm that brings Poe, half-dressed in pajama bottoms and no shirt, stumbling into the doorway.
And then he stares. John is here. After that last conversation, after everything Poe said, John is here.
He's here, and he's drunk off his ass, and even though there's a cruel moment where Poe just wants to close the door and go back to bed, he can't make himself do it.
Instead he steps out into the summery night and grips John's shoulders as he heaves into the bushes. ]
Come to [LOCATION] at 6pm on [DATE]. You may bring one date if you must.
[ how inviting. obviously the location is the location of a home and the date is sometime in mid-august that i don't want to settle on at the moment so YOLO. boom, come to a party. bring 1 friend. ]
[ Apropos of nothing, with an attached image of the following little guy:
He's hanging on their end table or kitchen counter or wherever one could fit a nice-sized fish tank in the apartment. I returned to your inbox to bring doofuses being doofuses. ]
I got a fish.
We won't need to pay a pet deposit.
[ Yes he bought this like 5 dollar creature and checked the rental agreement over it. ]
action; its birdgate 2k17
Realistically, Finn probably stopped paying very close attention the second they hit the "freedom is a lie, we'll bring order" sentiment. He was busy losing his fucking mind, which may or may not have actually just been gripped by the icy fingers of straight-up panic. What he knows is his mind has long outlined for him that he cannot afford to not take this message seriously, no matter how weird it may be.
Anyway WHAT'S UP, FINN'S HOME, EVIDENCED PERHAPS MOST CLEARLY BY THE WAY HE GOES TO TOWN SLAMMING THE FRONT DOOR OPEN. He pulls from somewhere dumb like a closet shelf or under one of the beds... three homemade bug out bags! He has also stashed for his convenience an empty one. Finn's not dumb, okay. He prepared for this possibility within a week of arriving. ]
Who's still here?! We need to regroup!
[ That empty bag is the one he's starting to ransack this room to fill, as efficiently as possible. Mostly random snack foods and stuff that could supplement what he already put together rations-wise, but at this point he's also stressed out enough to start reaching the "if it fits it ships" event horizon. Nothing is safe. Which, ironically, is the whole point and he was right all along and he KNEW IT. ]
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And lo, the door crashes open. Poe jumps, dropping the communicator in his lap as BB-8 (under the desk) gives an alarmed whistle. Then, suddenly, there is a whirlwind shaped vaguely like Finn dismantling their living quarters. Poe spends several long seconds just watching, trying to figure out what the heck Finn is doing. If something went that wrong--
Oh look, another unfinished thought, because Poe just figured out what this is about. He tosses the communicator onto his desk and gets up, trying to grab Finn's arm and get him to hold still for a minute. ] Finn. Finn! Calm down. Just take a breath.
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BOIIIII
W E L P
; ;
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i just noticed he has two drinks in one hand in that gif
he has #priorities
clearly
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text; @fromTV; 1/2
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WHOOPS
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1/2
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text, while rey is in hospital, it had to be done
Is there weed in your reality?
ksjadfsf oh my god
you're welcome
Re: you're welcome
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@maverick, the crystal caves
[Here's John trying to be cool. It's not going so well.]
voice; @wingingit
Voice;
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voice; @maverick
[Does he sound happy? Because he's happy.]
voice;
[ A BRIEF STRUGGLE TO SWALLOW, then he gives up and pulls milk out of the fridge and downs some of it like a heathen even though it's white and weird. Glug glug.
Okay trying that again. ]
That's great! Who'd you get?
Re: voice;
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[Text]
After everything that's happened, and what she's learned...she knows she needs to text him. A way to reach out, to repair what she tore down.]
I'm sorry.
[The message is short, very short, but it's all she can bring herself to write. Giving him something that was long winded, or flowery wasn't her.
And if he didn't reply back, then at least she didn't waste both of their time by writing something super long.]
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There are things that still matter, choices and arguments made that can't be undone. There's trust still to be earned back. But she saved the Resistance, for better or worse. That's were more than a choice she almost but didn't quite make. ]
I'm glad.
How you doing?
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text; im lining ur inbox pockets with birdgate 2k17's more fun successor
[ If Finn was really serious he wouldn't be asking. He'd be doing the thing where he lets impulse take the wheel, and doing. Something. Not sure exactly what.
... and okay, it's still tempting to gun it (metaphorically or literally), is the thing. It's Hux. There's more baggage there than the Falcon could take in one trip. As a respected member of a protective organization, known for maybe occasionally shoving people out of the way to just hug friends in broad daylight, that is not an ideal temptation.
So the next best step is to-- touch home base, sort of. Because usually if he's not feeling especially reasonable, Poe manages to step in and cover where he falls short. Finn is an okay person who makes quips and is in control of himself, obviously, and he is very good at restraint. But if he's not necessarily, he can generally rely on Poe Dameron. That is, in so many ways, the bare essence of teamwork and trust, probably. ]
If you had to give a percentage.
TWEET TWEET MOTHERFUCKER
[ Which is not an answer Poe would have given before they remembered what happened on Crait and before it. It's not an answer he would have given before he tried to gun down Ren in cold blood. ]
Hovers around 90%.
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when u forget your own texting style choices for ur character
text; @maverick
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That's great.
[ Is that enough? That's not enough. Poe may or may not be rubbing his face while he overthinks this like a boss. ]
I mean that is great, that's not a polite great, it's a great great.
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Poe feels strange about the whole thing. Ever since he accidentally called them a couple, gave a conventional name to whatever it is he and John have, he's had a funny feeling in his stomach.
It's there now as he watches John sleep, the two of them laying side by side on the big bed Poe only uses with John.
You're beautiful, you know that? Poe thinks. He reaches out, brushing John's jaw with his fingertips, not wanting to wake the other man but wanting to touch him.
This is strange. It's unfamiliar. It's terrifying, in a way Poe isn't used to feeling. But in this moment, with the sun streaking in through a crack in the curtains and John's breathing a slow and steady rhythm in the silence, Poe is pretty sure he can let it just be.
( This is peace, he thinks, this is peace, and he's missed it. ) ]
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Relaxing, on the other hand, has always taken a concentrated effort. Even on his days off John fills most of his day with physical training, sports, and teaching himself new, pointless skills, like playing the guitar. That one's got a lot of work before it becomes relaxing.
He was happy when Poe called, and asked him over in the middle of the day. It was a first. They had sex, not unusual, but then he fell asleep. Another first. Usually Poe has somewhere to be, or says he does, and John does to. Because he'd rather leave than get kicked out, and up until now? He's only passed out at Poe's place twice, and one of those times was to keep watch on Poe through the night after being put through the wringer by Kylo Ren.
Today was different. The sex was slow, a marathon versus the usual sprint, and more intimate in every way. As if the word 'couple' had changed everything, and maybe it had. John fell asleep after, without asking if he could stay. He hadn't been thinking. Content and sedated, Poe was the only thing on his mind. He dreamed of brown eyes and messy curls instead of a pale hand biting into his chest, sucking the life out of him decades at a time.
He doesn't wake up all at once. He feels the room first, warm and bright with sunshine, then the presence of another person, familiar, he knows it's Poe by the weight of him, and his smell, the touch is last, light as a feather. He moves against the sheets, yawns, and stretches, cracking open one eye to look at Poe.]
Hey. [He swallows another yawn] Sorry, must've... dozed off.
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voice; @maverick
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Hotel; 3rd Night
John's been quiet, but close. Speaking softly. Touching more than talking. He even took Poe's arm earlier in the day, when they were cutting through the crowded marketplace. Letting him take the lead.
They had dinner somewhere nice, off the beaten path, not too far from the hotel, and John watched Poe over candlelight. His eyes always on him, even though there's music, and dancing, and plenty of skin to be seen, considering the festivities.
Walking back to the hotel was a quiet affair, too, aside from when Poe was talking. Alongside the river. John takes his arm again there, too. His grip gentle on the back of Poe's bicep.
Approaching the door of their room, John's hand slides down to Poe's wrist, then his hand. Wordlessly interlacing their fingers.]
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On their way back to the hotel, Poe fills the silence, at least for a while. Rambles first about improvements he's thinking about for the shuttle, then about the things that Jess Pava could do if she was on the moon. How they'd all have ships by now--she would have found a way to build them or dismantled a building trying. Then he gets quiet. Listens to the festivities as they go on, relaxing under John's hands, the need to speak fading.
He's pulling his keys out of the pocket of his jacket--the one John likes--when John takes his hand. Poe lifts John's hand up to kiss his knuckles. ] What is it? You've been quiet all day.
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text; reelin it back 2 late february bc i said id do it
The thing is, there are not. A lot of ways to casually be like "lmao guess why I'm about 45% worried for my life rn." Part of Finn thinks he could stand to leave it off until after that building disappears and he gets out. What good does it do to do broadcast the unchangeable?
The other part of him thinks okay, don't do that though, maybe make sure someone knows this situation is even happening. Just in case. Things are contained by the very public setting and societal convention for now, and that gives him the luxury of time. Take advantage of that. Basic strategy. He learned that when he was like twelve.
As a follow-up while he figures his shit out, and tries to think of what the least serious people he knows would do to make delivering this news easier: his usual brand. ]
Poe. I hate this moon, and we are never coming to this store again. I want a map on a wall with the address crossed out.
aw yissss
Finn. Is that a building in front of your building, and why is that the store's fault.
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text; @maverick
You alright?
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But John was there the night he found out that he got Paige Tico and her entire squadron killed.
He can feel himself tearing up as he picks up his device to look at the message again, has felt himself tearing up for going on three weeks now and has beat it down or gotten himself beaten to achieve the same ends. ]
not sure
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audio; un: kirk
[ And because he feels like he owes him an explanation, but doesn't really have the time for it— ]
John's in serious trouble. We need to go get him.
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[ He doesn't question it, doesn't need to know more. He's coming, and the rest of Riverview better get out of the way. ]
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John knocks on Poe's door. Too loud, probably. Someone looks out their window at him. He stays on the second doorstep, jacket pulled tight around himself over his PJs. A t shirt and flannel bottoms. Runners. He tried to sleep. He did.
He knocks one more time. Then he pukes in Poe's bushes. Turns out jack, pills, and anxiety aren't a great combo.]
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And then he stares. John is here. After that last conversation, after everything Poe said, John is here.
He's here, and he's drunk off his ass, and even though there's a cruel moment where Poe just wants to close the door and go back to bed, he can't make himself do it.
Instead he steps out into the summery night and grips John's shoulders as he heaves into the bushes. ]
I got you.
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text | early august
[ how inviting. obviously the location is the location of a home and the date is sometime in mid-august that i don't want to settle on at the moment so YOLO. boom, come to a party. bring 1 friend. ]
text;
He's hanging on their end table or kitchen counter or wherever one could fit a nice-sized fish tank in the apartment. I returned to your inbox to bring doofuses being doofuses. ]
I got a fish.
We won't need to pay a pet deposit.
[ Yes he bought this like 5 dollar creature and checked the rental agreement over it. ]
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please tell me you're naming it jyn.
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