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[personal profile] dragonlady7
via http://ift.tt/2cbiHgz:deputychairman replied to your post “I think I’m doing the thing where I’m sliding along the edge of that…”

Buddy I’m sorry, I hope it passes and rest assured that YES your fic makes us feel things and I know sympathy from strangers on the internet doesn’t cure depression but I wish it did xx

Aww. Thanks! it sure helps, at least. 

Sometimes it’s other people’s fics that are giving me trouble. well, i mean, mine too, but i know for a gold-plated one hundred percent fact that the one you just put up with Finn and the kid gave me some kind of a feeling but by the end I couldn’t remember what it had been. That’s like, my number one bookmark for when I’m human again because all I could muster to leave as a comment was “but why not 30 more chapters about finding this baby some shoes and more of the kissing and also what to do about where this baby is going to sleep and also does it need diapers” and that’s not real constructive. I gotta try that one again on a better day. 

It did briefly inspire me to write a snippet of Baby Poe and Sergeant Kes Dameron, but that didn’t amount to anything substantive. SOMEDAY MAYBE. 

(Think about how hot 22-year-old badass Kes Dameron probably was with a curly-headed wide-eyed baby clinging to his chest and repeating the swear words he’d learned from the other Pathfinders. It almost is hot enough to make me feel feelings.)

(And if I felt feelings I’d want to write how Uncle L’ullo tells stories about Shara Bey, Baddest Bitch In The Room, and how Kes was the only dude bad enough to hang with her, and that was how they made Poe, out of sheer awesomeness combined, and maybe a slightly-embarrassed but pleased Poe pointing out that Uncle L’ullo was pretty iffy on how human reproduction worked anyway.)

But I might actually die of boredom before that gets written down.

(In the meantime. If anyone wants to idly speculate with me on where Finn and Poe would keep a tiny rescued child. I’m all ears. OR where on earth a Pathfinder sergeant’s kid is going to be stashed while said kid’s momma is off with Green Squadron and how did it look for either the Rebellion OR the Resistance when you tried to requisition kids’ shoes? BABY POE IN A CUT-DOWN UNIFORM TUNIC SOMEBODY SEWED HIM THANK YOU.)

also

The protocol droid had been tasked with getting good footage of the personnel. The Psy Ops department had, shimmering in its heart, the hope of someday being a postwar PR department, and they wanted good material for lionizing the heroes of the Rebellion.

PZ-5X0 had been programmed extensively and had a pretty good idea of what made for compelling footage. The Pathfinders were good footage— rough and tumble, often beat up, colorful and gritty. When one of them suddenly showed up with a toddler, PZ’s algorithms all overloaded and it started following the man around obsessively.

The toddler was by all metrics very cute, with curly dark hair and wide dark eyes and its head too big for its body. It was dressed in clearly homemade clothing, cut down from larger garments and patched together with care by some expert hand; a bright red tunic, a black diaper cover with mismatched fasteners, no shoes. Collating visual data with a handy database of human growth patterns yielded an estimate of between ten and fourteen months of age. Shrewd comparison of facial metrics led to a reasonable probability that the Pathfinder and the infant were close genetic relatives; perusal of a library of human social mores suggested that he was probably the child’s father, as few other relationships would result in an active duty soldier being given even temporary custody of an infant.

And so PZ-5X0 recorded every bit of footage it could with the child in the frame if it were at all possible.

The next day one of the PsyOps people showed up at the Pathfinders’ barracks, floating a holo of the man and the baby. “Who is this,” the PsyOps officer asked.

“Why do you ask,” Captain Xhosa asked warily.

“I need to interview him,” the PsyOps officer said. “My protocol droid took a bunch of holos of them yesterday and I need to know who he is and talk to him.”

“Really,” Xhosa said.

The PsyOps officer recognized the hesitance, and made an exasperated noise. “His baby is cute!” he said. “I have all this footage of a really cute baby, I want to know who the baby is!”

Xhosa gave him a long, lingering look, then opened the door. “Kes!” she yelled. “I found out what that robot wanted yesterday!”

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dragonlady7: self-portrait but it's mostly the DSLR in my hands in the mirror (Default)
dragonlady7

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