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dragonlady7via http://ift.tt/1VQzAPG:
magickedteacup:
bomberqueen17:
magickedteacup:
@bomberqueen17 : I didn’t see your post about BB8 showing Kes the holovids! Actually uh I still can’t find it–but I had the thought we must be like psychically on the same level about this music thing what another coincidence lol
I woke up this morning, thought about, and realized the song was still in my head and is continuing to compose itself so that’s happening I guess.
Also hope your back gets better! :(
My neck/back whatever will be fine, I’m just contractually obligated to bitch about my meat shell from time to time.
It’s funny, I assumed you’d followed me because of that post, it’s my third most popular ever Tumblr post and keeps slow-burning my notifications. Don’t do it don’t think about embittered widower Kes Dameron, is how it always shows up. When I posted it I figured oh that’s too melodramatic I gotta pump the brakes, but then it keeps making the rounds, so.
I wish I could compose songs but really it’s like yarncrafting, I can’t afford yet one more thing to obsess over. (I sew, instead; everyone else I know knits or crochets. The metaphor makes sense in my head.)
In regards to that fic link:
HOW DARE YOU
It’s a pretty cut-down excerpt.
“I’m lucky,” Poe went on in a moment. “I know that. I’m lucky. So. I was gonna tell you never mind, BB-8, delete this, it’s stupid and embarrassing, but I guess I should keep this as a reminder.” He finally looked up at the camera. “I’m thirty years old and this is the first time I’ve ever really been alone in the world.” He took a slow breath in, and let it out, and it shook a little, audibly. “Some people go their whole lives and never have it as good as I did for so long.”
The holo ended, and another number came up. Total times the video had been played: 328. Clearly, either BB-8 went around showing these to people a lot, or Poe watched them repetitively.
“My little boy,” Kes said, curling around the pain in his midsection. It hurt to think of Poe considering himself alone in the world. There was no helpful astromech droid to record all the hours Kes had spent staring angrily at the stars off the back porch of the house where he’d raised that kid.
BB-8 beeped again, and showed another holo. It was a dark room, only the recorder’s light providing faint illumination, and Poe was sitting with his back against a wall, and he was crying, curled tight into it. “Papa,” he sobbed, and it went right through Kes, like a laser knife, right through him. “Papa, I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how to do this.”
[…] Poe sobbed wordlessly, hands clutched over the top of his head, and Kes thought maybe he was dying now, hearing this; he’d thought, when he’d heard about the attack, to reach out and see if Poe was all right, but he’d held strong and hadn’t because a man had to stand by what he said and he’d told Poe he wasn’t going to speak to him anymore.
What a fucking idiot Kes was.
He could defend himself and say he hadn’t known how to get a message through, but goddamn Leia Organa had given him instructions for sending a message, hadn’t she.
“Papa I miss you,” Poe said, voice hitching a little. He was a dim mass in the bad light, grainy and ill-resolved, the black of his hair the only concrete detail. “Papa I don’t know what to do. The sun keeps coming up and I don’t know how to just– keep going. I know you did it and I never thought to ask you how.” He sobbed. “I don’t know how to do this.”
“Baby boy,” Kes said, anguished.
Poe drew a shuddering breath, and scrubbed his hands across his face and through his hair. “And we lost– the whole base. Almost all the ground crew. Sixty-eight people. I was forty-five seconds too late.” He was staring downward, his face picked out in ghostly outlines by the inadequate light from the ‘corder, hand fisted in his hair, eyes just dark hollows.
“I don’t know what to do,” he said, hoarse. “I just– how do you– keep going? There wasn’t even a body. Just– a crater. Sixty-eight people.” Silence stretched out, hissing and crackling with half-heard mechanical noises recorded in the background.
In the holo, BB-8 beeped something, and Poe shuddered. “No,” he said, “No, B, I can’t send it. Just– delete it or something.” He raised his head, face streaked with tears. “Never mind. Shut it off.” He wiped his face roughly, and reached out, and the holo ended.
Total number of times the video had been played: 1. The astro had been saving it for Kes, there was no doubt of that.
“You win, little droid,” Kes said, shoving the heels of his hands into his eyes to stop crying. “You win. I was wrong. I was wrong the whole time. And now it’s too fucking late.”
BB-8 regarded him intensely, almost human in its regard, and Kes scrubbed at his face. “Well, I’m here now, aren’t I?”
The droid considered it, spun in place, and beeped quietly, then nudged itself against Kes’s shoulder. Kes put his arms around it, for want of anything more sensible to do. It whirred in what sounded like satisfaction.
magickedteacup:
bomberqueen17:
magickedteacup:
@bomberqueen17 : I didn’t see your post about BB8 showing Kes the holovids! Actually uh I still can’t find it–but I had the thought we must be like psychically on the same level about this music thing what another coincidence lol
I woke up this morning, thought about, and realized the song was still in my head and is continuing to compose itself so that’s happening I guess.
Also hope your back gets better! :(
My neck/back whatever will be fine, I’m just contractually obligated to bitch about my meat shell from time to time.
It’s funny, I assumed you’d followed me because of that post, it’s my third most popular ever Tumblr post and keeps slow-burning my notifications. Don’t do it don’t think about embittered widower Kes Dameron, is how it always shows up. When I posted it I figured oh that’s too melodramatic I gotta pump the brakes, but then it keeps making the rounds, so.
I wish I could compose songs but really it’s like yarncrafting, I can’t afford yet one more thing to obsess over. (I sew, instead; everyone else I know knits or crochets. The metaphor makes sense in my head.)
In regards to that fic link:
HOW DARE YOU
It’s a pretty cut-down excerpt.
“I’m lucky,” Poe went on in a moment. “I know that. I’m lucky. So. I was gonna tell you never mind, BB-8, delete this, it’s stupid and embarrassing, but I guess I should keep this as a reminder.” He finally looked up at the camera. “I’m thirty years old and this is the first time I’ve ever really been alone in the world.” He took a slow breath in, and let it out, and it shook a little, audibly. “Some people go their whole lives and never have it as good as I did for so long.”
The holo ended, and another number came up. Total times the video had been played: 328. Clearly, either BB-8 went around showing these to people a lot, or Poe watched them repetitively.
“My little boy,” Kes said, curling around the pain in his midsection. It hurt to think of Poe considering himself alone in the world. There was no helpful astromech droid to record all the hours Kes had spent staring angrily at the stars off the back porch of the house where he’d raised that kid.
BB-8 beeped again, and showed another holo. It was a dark room, only the recorder’s light providing faint illumination, and Poe was sitting with his back against a wall, and he was crying, curled tight into it. “Papa,” he sobbed, and it went right through Kes, like a laser knife, right through him. “Papa, I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how to do this.”
[…] Poe sobbed wordlessly, hands clutched over the top of his head, and Kes thought maybe he was dying now, hearing this; he’d thought, when he’d heard about the attack, to reach out and see if Poe was all right, but he’d held strong and hadn’t because a man had to stand by what he said and he’d told Poe he wasn’t going to speak to him anymore.
What a fucking idiot Kes was.
He could defend himself and say he hadn’t known how to get a message through, but goddamn Leia Organa had given him instructions for sending a message, hadn’t she.
“Papa I miss you,” Poe said, voice hitching a little. He was a dim mass in the bad light, grainy and ill-resolved, the black of his hair the only concrete detail. “Papa I don’t know what to do. The sun keeps coming up and I don’t know how to just– keep going. I know you did it and I never thought to ask you how.” He sobbed. “I don’t know how to do this.”
“Baby boy,” Kes said, anguished.
Poe drew a shuddering breath, and scrubbed his hands across his face and through his hair. “And we lost– the whole base. Almost all the ground crew. Sixty-eight people. I was forty-five seconds too late.” He was staring downward, his face picked out in ghostly outlines by the inadequate light from the ‘corder, hand fisted in his hair, eyes just dark hollows.
“I don’t know what to do,” he said, hoarse. “I just– how do you– keep going? There wasn’t even a body. Just– a crater. Sixty-eight people.” Silence stretched out, hissing and crackling with half-heard mechanical noises recorded in the background.
In the holo, BB-8 beeped something, and Poe shuddered. “No,” he said, “No, B, I can’t send it. Just– delete it or something.” He raised his head, face streaked with tears. “Never mind. Shut it off.” He wiped his face roughly, and reached out, and the holo ended.
Total number of times the video had been played: 1. The astro had been saving it for Kes, there was no doubt of that.
“You win, little droid,” Kes said, shoving the heels of his hands into his eyes to stop crying. “You win. I was wrong. I was wrong the whole time. And now it’s too fucking late.”
BB-8 regarded him intensely, almost human in its regard, and Kes scrubbed at his face. “Well, I’m here now, aren’t I?”
The droid considered it, spun in place, and beeped quietly, then nudged itself against Kes’s shoulder. Kes put his arms around it, for want of anything more sensible to do. It whirred in what sounded like satisfaction.
