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[flightforfreedom]

You've reached Poe Dameron. I'm off flying something or trying not to get killed, so go ahead and leave a message and I'll get back to you eventually.

 

Comments

[reexamined]

[Kay "snorts" (it's a short burst of static) at the hand pat, amused by it, and then steps into the pool of oil. It's warm and probably akin to what he's seen on Earth to a "jacuzzi." Even with the pool only coming up to about three feet high, Kaytu can sit down in it and it comes up past his "neck." If he adjusted further, he could be completely immersed, but then he wouldn't be able to talk with Poe, so he keeps his head above the oil line.

Usually it's best to move around a little, rotate joints, to make sure oil gets into all the crevices that things like sand, grit, and dirt get stuck in. He starts with his arms, making small circles in the oil with his hands, and then with his arm joints. It's not like he has to close his eyes to totally relax, but he does vocalize a sigh at the feeling.]

This is... very good.

I think I did need this.

[flightforfreedom]

[Poe looks about as pleased with himself as is possible, which is pretty damn pleased with himself. He grins and steps over so he can lean against the edge of the pool. He's already got some oil on him, so he doesn't really care and sticks a couple fingers in to test the temperature.]

Not a lot of ways to spoil a droid, but this was the best one I could think of. Warm enough?

[reexamined]

Yes, it's warm enough. I don't get "spoiled" much.

[Let alone by anyone not Cassian.

An unpleasant surge of emotion runs through his circuits, and in retaliation, he closes the shutters on his photoreceptors, and leans back allowing himself to sink into the oil entirely. He stays like this for fifteen seconds, before sitting back upright and bringing his head back up. Opens his shutters again, and watches through his reflection as the droplets of oil slide off his face. He's definitely going to need a towel when he has to get out of this.]

...I always knew there'd be a chance of him disappearing. It could happen to any of us, at any time. It isn't a surprise. I don't know why I still feel like it was one, or like there was something else I could do.

[flightforfreedom]

Good. [Just an honest, warm, smile. He is more than happy to spoil you, K2.]

[He checks on the equipment as K2 relaxes, making sure nothing is leaking or breaking apart, though looks up again when he hears Kay breach the oil.]

... It's never easy losing someone. No matter how expected it is. [He leans on the edge of the tub, the smile gone, but the warmth somehow still there.]

Every time I go on a mission, the chance of me losing one of my team, or all of them, is always high. When we all come back, it's a massive win. And people disappear for far stupider reasons than going to war.

Here? It's weird, here. It's not really like we can totally say goodbye, right? Because he might be back. And we weren't supposed to be here in the first place. [He pauses.]

So of course you think you can do something. Because if it was him getting in trouble back home, you'd be right there, right? You'd be in the thick of it with him. It may not actually be any sort of measure of control, but feels a hell of a lot more like one.

[reexamined]

Yes, that's it.

[Poe's basically hit the nail on the head. If the situation was dangerous, most likely he'd be there with Cassian, unless something else had come up. And even during times when he's told to stay with the ship, he tends to ignore those orders when he has a feeling Cassian is in trouble. Usually, he's right.

It feels bad to think about how he should have been there during the fight in the Falls. He opts, instead, for a subject change.]

It sounds difficult to be in charge of a flight squadron. You're directly responsible for the lives of at least five others, and at most, eleven.

[flightforfreedom]

[Poe gave a slow shrug, not because he disagreed, but because he deliberately tried not to think about it. He'd lost a bunch from his squadron just the day before he got ported here, let alone all the others he'd lost when Starkiller had destroyed the fleet. He hadn't dealt with it, and he wasn't about to. There was no point to grief, here - it would be too easy to lose himself in it, with little else to do.]

It's not easy. But it has to be done. And if I can make sure more come out alive than would have without me, I've done my job.