Charisma~ Poe Dameron

Not against killing a pretty girl

Poe woke up with a splitting headache and a pain shooting down his side. His entire body throbbed, and he couldn't pinpoint one exact spot of pain- it all hurt. 

His head hurt so bad he winced as a droplet of sweat slowly cascaded down the wrinkle between his eyebrows. It accumulated more moisture and sped up until it dropped off the tip of his nose. He could feel every drop of sweat as it trailed down his face, and what didn't drip off evaporated before it could. 

When he finally opened his eyes he had lift a hand to eclipse the bright, overpowering sun before it fried all the moisture in his eyes. Still, the sun shined around his hand and made it nearly impossible for him to see anything. Even the blue, cloudless sky above had a white sheen to it from the sun. 

Poe waited for his eyes to naturally adjust. As he did, he licked his overly dry lips to relieve the pain, but his mouth proved just as dry. His tongue scraped along the cracks in his lips. What little moisture the motion gave off evaporated immediately under the sun's heat. 

Poe gave a groan as he pushed himself up and looked around him. In every direction he saw sand... nothing but sand and hills and more sand. 

"Great." His voice broke from lack of use and moisture. 

He lifted himself out of the TIE fighter and jumped down to the soft ground. His feet began to sink down as the wind piled more sand on top of him. 

He stepped away from his cockpit to look at the back of it- but there was no back of it. 

"FINN!" Despite the lack of water and the throbbing in his voice, he shouted for his partner- for the man who saved him from certain death. "FINN!" He cupped his hands around his mouth to project his voice. 

He turned in circles as he looked for any sign of life, but the desolate world around him made him feel more alone than ever. 

Poe dropped his hands from his mouth and let them hang loosely by his sides. He was alone. Truly, and regrettably alone. 

Still, the loss of a friend couldn't deter him from the mission at hand. He had to either find BB-8 or get back to base where he can gather the rest of his team and come back with reinforcement. 

So, despite the possibility that Finn was still out there somewhere, Poe walked away. 

And he kept walking. 

And walking. 

And walking. 

 As the sun started to lower, he saw what he thought was a mirage in the distance. That was the only explanation he could come up with that would explain the small village made of tented shops with billowing fires. He could have sworn the town was just a byproduct of his brain frying, but then he smelled burnt meat and his mouth filled with juicy, warm saliva. It was the first bit of moisture he had all day, so even though it was his own body fluids, he lapped it up like it was fresh from a spring. 

Poe found a new strength as he pushed himself towards the smell of food and sound of numerous voices. He stumbled his way past a few tents, then collapsed in front of someone he thought would speak English- or at least one of the other twenty languages he had picked up across the galaxy. 

"I need... help." He breathed out as he sweated out the last bit of water he had in his system. His shoulders slumped as he pleaded desperately on his knees. His curly hair clung to his face and his tan shirt had darkened to a brown from his sweat soaking through it. 

"Oh boy- you look absolutely parched!" Poe looked up to see the robust woman grab a bowl from her table and lower it to him.Poe didn't know what was in the bowl, but he still took it and pressed it to his lips. As he tilted it up, the sweet, sweet water poured down his throat and overflowed the sides of his mouth and drippled off his chin. If he thought his own saliva was like drinking from a fresh spring, the water in the bowl was like the drippings of water from an untouched icicle on Hoth.