[ Poe pokes absently at the bacon as Finn speaks, watching his friend's face instead of what he's cooking.
It all sounds kinda shit, actually, which isn't surprising, because it's the First Order. Of course anything that encourages personal loyalties or, y'know, fun of any kind would be Against Regulations.
The bacon is burning. Poe hisses and stabs at it, trying to fork it (heh) out of the pan and onto the waiting plate and managing to scorch himself with hot grease in the process. ]
[ His best friend is a bacon disaster. God, look at him go.
(Finn, are you not a bacon hypocrite for not paying attention to the pan, either?)
Finn kinda shrugs it off. With an actual shrug this time. ]
It's not as bad as it sounds, as long as you don't know better. Just another regulation. Not the kind of thing you suffer over.
[ Get what you earn, get what you deserve. Extra incentive to make officer corps someday. One more way to exercise power and control over an army and remove all the agency from their lives. He knows better now. Obviously.
It's easier to separate the baseline simmer of his "tear the First Order apart with your teeth" anger from this particular line of conversation, partly for how weird it is to be on the subject and partly because... yeah. It was never an issue that bothered him much when he was still a stormtrooper. His problems turned up in different areas. ]
[ His thought process mostly flows along the lines of does it matter, initially.
Yeah, John's his commanding officer, but he knows a commanding officer's business isn't his business. They're not exactly friends. And there's not cause for outrage as far as he can tell, either, it's not his place to make calls on who Poe associates with. Now, if Poe were saying he's been having sex with Hux and thinks he's got a chance of turning things around here-- well. There'd be more blasters involved by now.
Finn assumes this line of questioning comes from a place of polite consideration, as many things do when they come from Poe, and not from the misplaced concern that he might not be able to deal with it, which as far as he knows isn't Poe's style. ]
Can't get any weirder than this conversation, Poe. [ HE'S NOT GONNA LIE ABOUT THAT? This whole morning is a write-off. ] Pretty sure I'll manage.
He turns off the stove and claims the last of the bacon before bringing the plate to the table, dropping into his own chair and setting it between them.
Poe exhales and leans back, taking a piece of bacon and crunching down on it. He's trying to figure out something to say, something that shows how much it means to have Finn's permission, even if he doesn't need it.
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It all sounds kinda shit, actually, which isn't surprising, because it's the First Order. Of course anything that encourages personal loyalties or, y'know, fun of any kind would be Against Regulations.
The bacon is burning. Poe hisses and stabs at it, trying to fork it (heh) out of the pan and onto the waiting plate and managing to scorch himself with hot grease in the process. ]
That's. Awful. It's awful, is the word.
no subject
(Finn, are you not a bacon hypocrite for not paying attention to the pan, either?)
Finn kinda shrugs it off. With an actual shrug this time. ]
It's not as bad as it sounds, as long as you don't know better. Just another regulation. Not the kind of thing you suffer over.
[ Get what you earn, get what you deserve. Extra incentive to make officer corps someday. One more way to exercise power and control over an army and remove all the agency from their lives. He knows better now. Obviously.
It's easier to separate the baseline simmer of his "tear the First Order apart with your teeth" anger from this particular line of conversation, partly for how weird it is to be on the subject and partly because... yeah. It was never an issue that bothered him much when he was still a stormtrooper. His problems turned up in different areas. ]
no subject
[ Still shaking his head. He puts the last of the bacon into the pan and rests his hip against the counter next to the stove. ]
You're okay with it, though? Me and John? Won't make things weird for you?
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Yeah, John's his commanding officer, but he knows a commanding officer's business isn't his business. They're not exactly friends. And there's not cause for outrage as far as he can tell, either, it's not his place to make calls on who Poe associates with. Now, if Poe were saying he's been having sex with Hux and thinks he's got a chance of turning things around here-- well. There'd be more blasters involved by now.
Finn assumes this line of questioning comes from a place of polite consideration, as many things do when they come from Poe, and not from the misplaced concern that he might not be able to deal with it, which as far as he knows isn't Poe's style. ]
Can't get any weirder than this conversation, Poe. [ HE'S NOT GONNA LIE ABOUT THAT? This whole morning is a write-off. ] Pretty sure I'll manage.
no subject
I dunno. We can get pretty weird.
[ TOO MUCH INFORMATION? TOO MUCH INFORMATION.
He turns off the stove and claims the last of the bacon before bringing the plate to the table, dropping into his own chair and setting it between them.
Poe exhales and leans back, taking a piece of bacon and crunching down on it. He's trying to figure out something to say, something that shows how much it means to have Finn's permission, even if he doesn't need it.
He settles on-- ]
Thanks, Finn.