[ C'mon Poe. Cassian can plot damage control if he's unaware of the scope he's dealing with. ]
Probably. I just have to get through the next two days, then I can take it easy. [ Until taking it easy leads to boredom leads to going nuts in the echo chamber of his own head. ]
[ How very inconvenient when it comes to identifying a specific, unnamed individual.
Poe makes a noise that isn't exactly disapproval. It's more closely related to concern. Still, he himself can't really talk when it comes to taking things easy.
[ Poe gives in to nervous energy, walking a circuit of the kitchen as BB-8 asks for confirmation of what a bake sale is.
The pilot has to resist making a sharp comment about bake sales and where they can shove themselves. Cassian is making five tables worth of baked goods plus the shop's standard inventory, which means to some degree it matters.
Or is that just this place, telling them that it matters?
He tops himself off, pauses as he starts to raise the glass, and sets it down in disgust.
How many times is he going to fail before he gets a grip on himself? The recent infractions pale in comparison to what he gave up to the First Order, but he's beyond used up his ration of mistakes.
The First Order.
Poe rests his elbows against the island counter, scrubbing his hands through his hair. ]
We can't just sit here. We have to figure out who's doing this, why, we have to get out.
[ Cassian, for his part, watches Poe while explaining to BB-8 that it is a baked goods fundraiser for the school and the local hospital. He goes on to explain that it is a little pointless, really, but it's an excuse for adults to socialize and eat sweets, plus spending money for 'a good cause'. ]
It's not terribly important, honestly, but people have asked me to bake so.
[ He raises his eyebrows at Poe. ]
I don't think storming the Sheriff's office is going to get us very far.
I don't know. You, me, BB-8. I think we could take 'em. [ Poe smiles in a way that says he could be joking.
Maybe. Probably. Probably definitely joking.
He drums his knuckles on the table and goes back to walking around the room, apparently forgetting he's still got a drink sitting out. ] Come on. You can't tell me that no one here is planning anything.
[ He's solution-oriented, Cassian! Particularly when finding solutions means avoiding his emotions. ]
[ Cassian allows himself to let out a little snort. ]
As far as I know? No. Mostly, I imagine, because going after the Sheriff's office doesn't solve the larger problem of 'how did we get here and how do we leave', not when there's still a wall on one side that practically drains you of your lifeforce, and some nearly impossible to scale cliffs on the other. At best we take them out and we're still stuck here.
[ His eyes track Poe as he moves across the room, immediately worried. He seemed to take being family in stride, even armed with information that counteracted that. Whatever this is, whatever is affecting Poe now, is more...personal, maybe. ]
I think we're mostly in the 'collect intel' stage, I'm sorry to say.
He stops long enough to reclaim his drink, and BB-8 trundles over to Cassian, swiveling his head dome around to track Poe's progress through another circuit of the kitchen.
It's easier for him with Cassian. They have shared history, of a kind. They're on the same side. Cassian was the first friendly, honest face Poe encountered. And he didn't have the memories of being relatives to cloud his impressions. With the memories of visits, and standing on tip-toes as a kid to try and be taller than his cousin, and Cassian's insistent ruffling of his hair--those things only serve to reinforce the sense of belonging. They've come in quietly, not crashed down on him all at once. Moreover, he knows they aren't real, however real they might seem. Cassian knew of his parents, lived years before Poe was born. It's easier to separate the real and the fake memories, if not the emotions tied to them.
And yeah, there's proof that they never could have known each other, but there's enough to make Cassian the closest thing to a squadron member Poe has here.
Caroline....
Caroline came out of nowhere. Came out of nowhere, and hit far too close to home.
Poe stops, staring into space (at the microwave), and drinks again.] What intel have we got?
Cassian just sort of lets his eyebrows arch slightly at Poe's reaction; whatever happened must have occurred quickly, and it clearly shook Poe to the core. He feels bad; there's no good way to explain what it feels like, to have emotional context come along with memory and know that none of it happened. Or at least it doesn't appear to have happened, not really. ]
Not much.
[ Cassian finishes his second drink. ]
There was a body, in the river. Not human, which is strange for this place; Earth is a pre-spaceflight planet, really, and doesn't seem to have an otherwise occupied solar system. So either that has changed, and the information available here hasn't kept up - or we aren't on Earth at all. [ He'll take either, to be honest. ] It was shot with a hollow-point, and whatever was in it's system probably killed it based on my roommate's findings. He works at the hospital - [ Cassian explains, with a wave of his hand ] and is good people.
Anyway. Body, in the river, infected everyone in town through the water supply. Which tells me that we're isolated in more ways than one, and this might be as much about keeping people out as it is about keeping the rest of us in.
Be nice to know if that wall makes people feel the same way coming in as they do trying to go out. Either way, meant for safety or not, it's a prison.
[ Poe tops himself off again without thinking about it, not paying attention to how much he has or hasn't drunk. It's something to do with his hands.
He toasts Cassian and knocks the whole thing back recklessly, squinting and making a face after he swallows. ] Well. I think it's safe to say this sucks.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[ So there. He pours himself another drink and slides the bottle over to Cassian. ]
You been pushing yourself?
no subject
[ C'mon Poe. Cassian can plot damage control if he's unaware of the scope he's dealing with. ]
Probably. I just have to get through the next two days, then I can take it easy. [ Until taking it easy leads to boredom leads to going nuts in the echo chamber of his own head. ]
no subject
[ How very inconvenient when it comes to identifying a specific, unnamed individual.
Poe makes a noise that isn't exactly disapproval. It's more closely related to concern. Still, he himself can't really talk when it comes to taking things easy.
Can he?
No, probably not. ]
What's in the next two days?
no subject
Bake sale.
Five tables worth of baked goods plus the shop's standard inventory. I'll be up pretty late.
no subject
[ Poe gives in to nervous energy, walking a circuit of the kitchen as BB-8 asks for confirmation of what a bake sale is.
The pilot has to resist making a sharp comment about bake sales and where they can shove themselves. Cassian is making five tables worth of baked goods plus the shop's standard inventory, which means to some degree it matters.
Or is that just this place, telling them that it matters?
He tops himself off, pauses as he starts to raise the glass, and sets it down in disgust.
How many times is he going to fail before he gets a grip on himself? The recent infractions pale in comparison to what he gave up to the First Order, but he's beyond used up his ration of mistakes.
The First Order.
Poe rests his elbows against the island counter, scrubbing his hands through his hair. ]
We can't just sit here. We have to figure out who's doing this, why, we have to get out.
no subject
It's not terribly important, honestly, but people have asked me to bake so.
[ He raises his eyebrows at Poe. ]
I don't think storming the Sheriff's office is going to get us very far.
no subject
Maybe. Probably. Probably definitely joking.
He drums his knuckles on the table and goes back to walking around the room, apparently forgetting he's still got a drink sitting out. ] Come on. You can't tell me that no one here is planning anything.
[ He's solution-oriented, Cassian! Particularly when finding solutions means avoiding his emotions. ]
no subject
As far as I know? No. Mostly, I imagine, because going after the Sheriff's office doesn't solve the larger problem of 'how did we get here and how do we leave', not when there's still a wall on one side that practically drains you of your lifeforce, and some nearly impossible to scale cliffs on the other. At best we take them out and we're still stuck here.
[ His eyes track Poe as he moves across the room, immediately worried. He seemed to take being family in stride, even armed with information that counteracted that. Whatever this is, whatever is affecting Poe now, is more...personal, maybe. ]
I think we're mostly in the 'collect intel' stage, I'm sorry to say.
no subject
[ MOSTLY.
He stops long enough to reclaim his drink, and BB-8 trundles over to Cassian, swiveling his head dome around to track Poe's progress through another circuit of the kitchen.
It's easier for him with Cassian. They have shared history, of a kind. They're on the same side. Cassian was the first friendly, honest face Poe encountered. And he didn't have the memories of being relatives to cloud his impressions. With the memories of visits, and standing on tip-toes as a kid to try and be taller than his cousin, and Cassian's insistent ruffling of his hair--those things only serve to reinforce the sense of belonging. They've come in quietly, not crashed down on him all at once. Moreover, he knows they aren't real, however real they might seem. Cassian knew of his parents, lived years before Poe was born. It's easier to separate the real and the fake memories, if not the emotions tied to them.
And yeah, there's proof that they never could have known each other, but there's enough to make Cassian the closest thing to a squadron member Poe has here.
Caroline....
Caroline came out of nowhere. Came out of nowhere, and hit far too close to home.
Poe stops, staring into space (at the microwave), and drinks again.] What intel have we got?
no subject
[ Die hard, as they say.
Cassian just sort of lets his eyebrows arch slightly at Poe's reaction; whatever happened must have occurred quickly, and it clearly shook Poe to the core. He feels bad; there's no good way to explain what it feels like, to have emotional context come along with memory and know that none of it happened. Or at least it doesn't appear to have happened, not really. ]
Not much.
[ Cassian finishes his second drink. ]
There was a body, in the river. Not human, which is strange for this place; Earth is a pre-spaceflight planet, really, and doesn't seem to have an otherwise occupied solar system. So either that has changed, and the information available here hasn't kept up - or we aren't on Earth at all. [ He'll take either, to be honest. ] It was shot with a hollow-point, and whatever was in it's system probably killed it based on my roommate's findings. He works at the hospital - [ Cassian explains, with a wave of his hand ] and is good people.
Anyway. Body, in the river, infected everyone in town through the water supply. Which tells me that we're isolated in more ways than one, and this might be as much about keeping people out as it is about keeping the rest of us in.
no subject
[ Poe tops himself off again without thinking about it, not paying attention to how much he has or hasn't drunk. It's something to do with his hands.
He toasts Cassian and knocks the whole thing back recklessly, squinting and making a face after he swallows. ] Well. I think it's safe to say this sucks.