[ He does try to think of something they can do to lessen this experience. There's not much time for thinking, is the problem. One second he's trying, mostly failing, to tune their surroundings out, fervently wishing that he could just come up with an optimal solution. He must have run a hundred battle simulations in his lifetime, he used to write out long-form answers on historical battles and their strategic flaws, and it's useless. And the sharpness of a world bathed in red is vanishing.
It only takes one second to go from wishing he could to wishing that he had, and oh.
Poe's father sounds like a smart man, is the first thing he thinks. Even his fears were smart.
Finn doesn't ask if Poe is okay. Not hard to suss the answer out on his own.
The Quarantine is swiftly dropping to the bottom of the list of planets (and by technicality, moons) he would even think about setting foot on again once they get home. It doesn't matter if it's a tech malfunction, this is not fair.
It's one thing for people like him. Most things he can remember happened with three or more people watching in plain view, anyway. Other cadets, instructors-- even telling Solo the truth, Chewie was standing right there with them. Most things he remembers, there are a dozen Stormtroopers somewhere in the system who remember the exact same thing from a foot to the left. For all that there are things Finn never wants to see replayed in full clarity, he still knows how to live in a world where the only real privacy is in thoughts or behind a helmet.
This memory was private. This is something that was just Poe's, until the Quarantine took a hack at it.
And there isn't anything they can do to make it stop happening. Split off from each other, maybe, but it won't stop strangers from getting the same show.
This would all be easier if there was someone or something out there that only needed to be blown up to put an end to it. He'd ship out in a heartbeat. Finn swallows. ]
I'm starting to think this moon has a problem with us.
i'm starting a change.org petition to hug poe
It only takes one second to go from wishing he could to wishing that he had, and oh.
Poe's father sounds like a smart man, is the first thing he thinks. Even his fears were smart.
Finn doesn't ask if Poe is okay. Not hard to suss the answer out on his own.
The Quarantine is swiftly dropping to the bottom of the list of planets (and by technicality, moons) he would even think about setting foot on again once they get home. It doesn't matter if it's a tech malfunction, this is not fair.
It's one thing for people like him. Most things he can remember happened with three or more people watching in plain view, anyway. Other cadets, instructors-- even telling Solo the truth, Chewie was standing right there with them. Most things he remembers, there are a dozen Stormtroopers somewhere in the system who remember the exact same thing from a foot to the left. For all that there are things Finn never wants to see replayed in full clarity, he still knows how to live in a world where the only real privacy is in thoughts or behind a helmet.
This memory was private. This is something that was just Poe's, until the Quarantine took a hack at it.
And there isn't anything they can do to make it stop happening. Split off from each other, maybe, but it won't stop strangers from getting the same show.
This would all be easier if there was someone or something out there that only needed to be blown up to put an end to it. He'd ship out in a heartbeat. Finn swallows. ]
I'm starting to think this moon has a problem with us.