InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "don't stop believin'!"

Obi Wan (benkenobi) wrote in toboldlyrpg,
@ 2017-12-27 10:46:00

Entry tags:

obi-wan kenobi | star wars, poe dameron | star wars

WHO: Poe Dameron & Obi-Wan Kenobi
WHEN: 226412.27
WHERE: Deck Five Lounge
SUMMARY: Poe Dameron meets a dead hero
WARNINGS: The Last Jedi Spoilers, maybe? General disillusionment and resentment for the Jedi Order.

Ben dragged his finger from one section of the circle made by the moisture from his cold drink across to the other, then he did it again to form a damp ‘X’ on the bar counter in front of him. He looked at the symbol in front of him as he absent-mindedly touched his wet finger to his thumb. On Tatooine, droplets like that were precious. The condensation from a cool drink would be ripped from the glass by needy dry heat before it could drink. Water on a tablet disappeared in a blink, but here it stayed until Kenobi picked up the square of paper that came with his drink and wiped the moisture away.

“One man’s trash.” The Jedi murmured to himself as he set the crumpled napkin aside and took another long drink from his glass. Even here, decks away from Kylo Ren, he could feel the way Force energy stalked around him like a caged tusk cat. Ben knew that he should address that; he knew that his failure with Anakin echoed through generations. In his opinion, being faced with that reality should be penance enough. Pulling Kylo Ren back from whatever darkness he’d dropped himself into shouldn’t be his problem.

But Leia hadn’t given up on him, and she had her mother’s eyes. One man’s trash...

(Post a new comment)

rapier
2017-12-27 03:58 pm UTC (link)

These were always the same, these ships' canteens - at least in the ways that mattered. Some were fancier, and those he sidled up to with as much swagger as possible to make up for (really, to heavily underscore) his generally careless attire; some were more raucous, places brimming with all the best and the worst feelings simmering between officers, and he liked those best, but they were trouble. The one back home, it would be diminished - enough of them lost that bumping shoulders would be a rarity, not an obnoxious necessity - it would be frenetic with the desperate energy that came from a victory patched over a profound loss, the hopelessly urgent desire to celebrate so you didn't fall through black space -

And, like all of them, it would host some heroes, if you weren't too shy to peer down the line and see who your neighbors were. Poe had taken a seat and ordered a drink (gin? sure, gin), but he got up without hesitation and relocated as soon as he saw the profile he'd seen shimmering in all too many holos. "Over here," he waved to the bartender as he sat again, dropping into the seat directly beside Obi-Wan kriffing Kenobi, setting his hands flat on the bar and then turning with purpose to introduce himself. "General," he said, extending his hand, inclining his head just enough that his hair tumbled across one eye before he shook it back. "Poe Dameron." It's really great to meet you. It's an honor. I never thought I'd have the privilege. I just want you to know, I never thought you were a failure, not even after - No, that was - that was all taken care of, wasn't it? "Retirement's kind of a drag, huh?"

(Reply to this) (Thread)

benkenobi
2017-12-27 04:38 pm UTC (link)

Ben tilted more than he pivoted as he offered Poe Dameron his hand with the twitch of a smile. This greeting was more muscle memory than sincere, thrown slightly off-kilter from years of disuse. Gone were his days of diplomacy, introductions and strategic flirtations. No one who recognised him in Mos Eisley dared approach, too afraid of the fact Kenobi was somehow still alive to make inquires as to how he’d managed it. No one beyond Yoda, Lars and the Organas knew how responsible he was for the end of all things. How responsible all the Jedi were.

But this man, with eyes the colour of hot summer nights, he knew. Ben could sense it flutter and flash around Poe’s mind as though Dameron had a halo of anxious fireflies around his dark curls.

“Retirement. Yes -- Hello, Poe Dameron. It’s all about time, isn’t it?” He released his hand with a nod and set his elbow on the bar to minimise the space between them. “All your life there’s never enough of it, until suddenly there’s too much with nothing to fill it. I’m sure you’re already feeling it, being here and not where you’re used to.”

(Reply to this) (Parent)