i found something in the woods somewhere.
|
open post.
▬ action ▬ prompts ▬ continuing threads ▬ force shenanigans |
|
|
( It's as much the answer that he's expecting and oddly - or perhaps not - the one that he's hoping for, however much he disagrees that the notion of change is enough to absolve a person of the sins they have committed. He made his choices with or without outside influence, and there is no blame that can be placed anywhere other than upon his own shoulders, no one who can accept responsibility and, subsequently, the anticipated punishment and consequences of what he's done. The stop on Corellia had been just that, a stop, a detour taken until he and Rey loop back around with the inevitability of this path.
Whatever happens on it now, whatever he does or she does in the current course of events, won't change what waits for them, for him, at the end, and that is the satisfaction and validation that he looks for in the negative charge of her response. It's being right for the sake of being right, though he doesn't look for or want any semblance of pity that might normally be attached to something so self-deprecating. Questions they both know the answer to, regardless of the electrical charge that wavers and bends and molds to light and dark around them. Everything turns hypothetical or obvious in the wake of what they have carved out of one another. )
I'll wake you at first light. ( Is his only response, though Kylo knows there's a decent chance Rey will wake herself either before or right at that allotted time, the product of survival and starvation and beating the sun in some capacity. In the meantime, he will keep heavy eyes on the mouth to the mines, skirting between there and the ship and the surrounding hillsides, casting out through the Force for anything that might scuttle around the underbrush like an insect, all the while aware of the severed connection with Snoke, a sore in his mouth that he can't stop tonguing. )
Whatever happens on it now, whatever he does or she does in the current course of events, won't change what waits for them, for him, at the end, and that is the satisfaction and validation that he looks for in the negative charge of her response. It's being right for the sake of being right, though he doesn't look for or want any semblance of pity that might normally be attached to something so self-deprecating. Questions they both know the answer to, regardless of the electrical charge that wavers and bends and molds to light and dark around them. Everything turns hypothetical or obvious in the wake of what they have carved out of one another. )
I'll wake you at first light. ( Is his only response, though Kylo knows there's a decent chance Rey will wake herself either before or right at that allotted time, the product of survival and starvation and beating the sun in some capacity. In the meantime, he will keep heavy eyes on the mouth to the mines, skirting between there and the ship and the surrounding hillsides, casting out through the Force for anything that might scuttle around the underbrush like an insect, all the while aware of the severed connection with Snoke, a sore in his mouth that he can't stop tonguing. )
[ The ground felt more familiar to her weary and aching bones than anything she'd slept on in a number of months, firm and cold and unforgiving, and she settled down slowly onto it, her head towards a tree so that she might stare up at its branches, the great dark bough shading her and waving under the wind's breath.
She could not recall how long she lay awake before her breath evened out to betray her sleep, but it could be only minutes, for even her eyes burned from being open, her face tense from remaining alert, her hands sore with the clenching of fists. Unconsciousness did not offer her true rest, plagued by terrors about the condition of the Resistance, the realization of her fears of betrayal, and something else, lurking on the horizon, a latent unease.
The sound of birds and the first beams of light peeking over the horizon did not rouse her, too exhausted yet from the restless few hours that remained of the night. Rather, she turned her face into her arm, shoulder nudged against a protruding root, to instinctively shield her eyes from day's break. ]
She could not recall how long she lay awake before her breath evened out to betray her sleep, but it could be only minutes, for even her eyes burned from being open, her face tense from remaining alert, her hands sore with the clenching of fists. Unconsciousness did not offer her true rest, plagued by terrors about the condition of the Resistance, the realization of her fears of betrayal, and something else, lurking on the horizon, a latent unease.
The sound of birds and the first beams of light peeking over the horizon did not rouse her, too exhausted yet from the restless few hours that remained of the night. Rather, she turned her face into her arm, shoulder nudged against a protruding root, to instinctively shield her eyes from day's break. ]
( Meditation is a fool's errand, considering all that has happened, and even if he had ever been any good at it unassisted, it's unlikely that he would be able to achieve the needed calm for such a task. Rey's silence, once she does fall into sleep like tumbling down a rough and rocky hill, does nothing to alleviate the strain that weighs not only on his shoulders but in his mind as well, and although it is the first time in days that he has been well and truly alone with his own thoughts - in years - Kylo finds that his mind cannot list toward blank as much as it cannot list toward one concrete thought. He has always lacked focus, and now it is his own fault as much as it isn't that he can't claim one pervasive line of consideration carries more weight or merit than any other.
Ji. Snoke. Aurren. The Force. All of the Resistance and the entirety of the First Order. None of it bears any meaning when it feels like they are the only two people left alive at the end of some line, submerged in silence and struggling through one more night into another day that will likely bring more of the same. Kylo's wounds exist like superficial canker sores that smart and throb when prodded but have no real consequence next to the larger, gaping hole in his mind where the voice of the Supreme Leader once sat as rigidly as he ever had in physical form. Another scar, Kylo supposes, one of many that he is sure to carry with him before this war sees its inevitable end, however muddied that inevitability has become now that Rey has introduced herself as another piece on the board and in a capacity he could not have anticipated.
He is careful not to wander through whatever it is that she dreams of, still entirely too aware of what had transpired in the mines to risk another potential outburst and too tired in his own right to be interested in dealing with another argument with her. Maybe this is how she'll wear him down and drag him home, finally: not through besting him or defeating him but through sheer, stubborn force of will. The lighter it becomes on the horizon, purple velvet changing back to lengthening navy and eventually creamy gold and red - a warning, his father had told him when he was young enough to believe that the weather had any say in fate - the more plausible it seems. It isn't until he feels her come aware that he turns to her, careful to be on his feet before she turns her face to the rising sun. )
Rise and shine. We're burning daylight.
Ji. Snoke. Aurren. The Force. All of the Resistance and the entirety of the First Order. None of it bears any meaning when it feels like they are the only two people left alive at the end of some line, submerged in silence and struggling through one more night into another day that will likely bring more of the same. Kylo's wounds exist like superficial canker sores that smart and throb when prodded but have no real consequence next to the larger, gaping hole in his mind where the voice of the Supreme Leader once sat as rigidly as he ever had in physical form. Another scar, Kylo supposes, one of many that he is sure to carry with him before this war sees its inevitable end, however muddied that inevitability has become now that Rey has introduced herself as another piece on the board and in a capacity he could not have anticipated.
He is careful not to wander through whatever it is that she dreams of, still entirely too aware of what had transpired in the mines to risk another potential outburst and too tired in his own right to be interested in dealing with another argument with her. Maybe this is how she'll wear him down and drag him home, finally: not through besting him or defeating him but through sheer, stubborn force of will. The lighter it becomes on the horizon, purple velvet changing back to lengthening navy and eventually creamy gold and red - a warning, his father had told him when he was young enough to believe that the weather had any say in fate - the more plausible it seems. It isn't until he feels her come aware that he turns to her, careful to be on his feet before she turns her face to the rising sun. )
Rise and shine. We're burning daylight.
[ An undignified noise answers him first, punctuating her unwillingness to acquiesce, and for a moment that follows, she scrunches her face up further where it's buried against her arm. She reluctantly begins to pick herself up a moment later, sloughing off the grip of fatigue like a skin to shed, as if it were so simple when her weariness runs so deep. Rey lifts her gaze towards him, realizes that he looks as though he's been waiting impatiently for an hour or more, and then fumbles onto her feet, dusting herself off haphazardly along the way. ]
You could have woken me.
[ She doesn't claim that it would have done much good, or that she'd have been happy about it, but it feels easier to disavow the responsibility now that day has broken. ]
How's your leg?
[ The fact that the dull throb feels far at the edges of her awareness doesn't tell her much—or at least, she assumes it doesn't, because she attributes it as much to a result of her own sleep-fogged mind as to any reasonable estimation of how the bacta treatment overnight might have prepared him for the progression down. ]
You could have woken me.
[ She doesn't claim that it would have done much good, or that she'd have been happy about it, but it feels easier to disavow the responsibility now that day has broken. ]
How's your leg?
[ The fact that the dull throb feels far at the edges of her awareness doesn't tell her much—or at least, she assumes it doesn't, because she attributes it as much to a result of her own sleep-fogged mind as to any reasonable estimation of how the bacta treatment overnight might have prepared him for the progression down. ]
( He could have, but he hadn't, and rather than offer some explanation as to why, Kylo only shrugs, a casual roll of his shoulder that belongs to a man who rises from bent knees with liquid grace too often not to have some innate manner of fluidity to his movement, regardless of how awkwardly assembled he had been as a child. The sky has not yet become the pale streak of blue that might spotlight their movements from above, a clear sky giving way to a clear picture of what it is they intend to do - not that any affordable vantage point would deter anyone seeking them out through lightyears of hyperspace and star systems - and as such, the half-light casts Rey's face in shadow deep enough to make the dirt and darkness crowding her face look like purple-black, marbled bruising. It will take time and better light to determine how much of it is an illusion and how much of it is a result of this fray they have dragged themselves down into. )
Tolerable. ( Is all he offers, immediately, in response to both her question and the matter-of-fact quality of her initial statement. Putting all of his weight on it does not see the collapse or muscle or the breakdown of flesh, but Kylo can't assume that there isn't a tear below skin, when Ji had driven the vibroblade into him as if with the intention to strike bone. But his discomfort is not an island, not when the bond lies coiled and waiting between them like a living, breathing thing ready and waiting to do more than offer vague approximations in the new light of a different day. It surprises him, somewhat, to be able to feel Rey's own injuries as if through a thick layer of fog or as if feeling for the divots between her ribs like searching for something hard through fabric and cotton, but they are still wary of one another, and a full bleed might drag one or the both of them too far underneath the surface. )
I'll live, at any rate. ( To himself, he adds, try not to be too disappointed, but to Rey's face he only sniffs, clears his throat of dust and disuse, his voice deeper and rougher after hours of silence on top of hours - days, weeks, decades - of yelling. ) Your injuries, I assume, are bearable?
Tolerable. ( Is all he offers, immediately, in response to both her question and the matter-of-fact quality of her initial statement. Putting all of his weight on it does not see the collapse or muscle or the breakdown of flesh, but Kylo can't assume that there isn't a tear below skin, when Ji had driven the vibroblade into him as if with the intention to strike bone. But his discomfort is not an island, not when the bond lies coiled and waiting between them like a living, breathing thing ready and waiting to do more than offer vague approximations in the new light of a different day. It surprises him, somewhat, to be able to feel Rey's own injuries as if through a thick layer of fog or as if feeling for the divots between her ribs like searching for something hard through fabric and cotton, but they are still wary of one another, and a full bleed might drag one or the both of them too far underneath the surface. )
I'll live, at any rate. ( To himself, he adds, try not to be too disappointed, but to Rey's face he only sniffs, clears his throat of dust and disuse, his voice deeper and rougher after hours of silence on top of hours - days, weeks, decades - of yelling. ) Your injuries, I assume, are bearable?
[ Her reply came in the form of a nod that was stiff enough to show some reflection on the matter went into it. One hand rested against her ribs as if to prod at the wounds, taking stock and measure, but she dropped it quickly enough to dismiss them. It did her no good to voice her doubts about whether his were really tolerable or not, not when he'd only scowl and argue, and they needed to climb down regardless. If he was indeed exaggerating his health, then he could suffer for it.
With that bit of nastiness estimated, she opened up the leather pouch on her hip and began to root around the cable lines she'd kept in there since she needed them to rappel into a felled AT-AT. The cord was a fibrous sort of metal that allowed for flexibility as well as sturdiness, and she pulled the coil out with some relief. Dirt from Jakku still clung in the joints where the thin fibrous wires bonded, and Rey found herself surprised to feel a sense of wistful nostalgia as her thumb brushed it off. ]
Getting down will be quicker than getting up was, at least. Then we can rendezvous with the rest of the fleet. [ To call it a fleet was generous, but Rey felt they deserved a bit of generosity for the miracle of their mere survival. ] I'm sure General Organa already has a plan for what to do about Hapes.
With that bit of nastiness estimated, she opened up the leather pouch on her hip and began to root around the cable lines she'd kept in there since she needed them to rappel into a felled AT-AT. The cord was a fibrous sort of metal that allowed for flexibility as well as sturdiness, and she pulled the coil out with some relief. Dirt from Jakku still clung in the joints where the thin fibrous wires bonded, and Rey found herself surprised to feel a sense of wistful nostalgia as her thumb brushed it off. ]
Getting down will be quicker than getting up was, at least. Then we can rendezvous with the rest of the fleet. [ To call it a fleet was generous, but Rey felt they deserved a bit of generosity for the miracle of their mere survival. ] I'm sure General Organa already has a plan for what to do about Hapes.
( By Kylo's estimation, he could be visibly bleeding from the head and Rey's response might ultimately be the same. It might be colored with a little more concern for her own well-being as it now relates to his as a result of this feeble, wavering line that binds them, but he cannot and will not imagine a world in which her solicitude extends to his own health as a separate unity born of some measure of sympathy, never mind the comparatively kind hand that she has shown him since everything went to hell. Or improved, depending on the perspective. As it stands - as Kylo stands, as it were - while the injury to his leg smarts as if teeth had been sunk into it only moments prior, it will endure as well as either one of them will: stubbornly and without pause or reflection that there might be any option otherwise. What other choice do they have, in the end, other than to be fine?
Rey's hand flattens against her side, and he doesn't miss it, nor does he miss the alien pull of pain as if felt from layers of thick wool, pressure through gallons of water, the warmth of skin through a foot of glass. Kylo offers no reaction, no indication that he has noticed, no comment, for once, to contend with the weight of what he knows in direct contrast to what she offers. Which is nothing, though that's hardly a disappointment. Instead, he takes a balanced, measured step toward her, mindful of the distribution of his weight as it relates to the rocky, uneven terrain. )
Delightful. ( He's just as careful to keep any trace of anything from his tone as he is in trekking across the landscape, regardless of whether or not Rey has immediate access to the churning whirl of his anticipation regarding any mention of Organa. One extended meeting has hardly done anything to assuage the argument in his own head he refuses to acknowledge whenever the topic comes up, never mind the consequences of their conversation under the velvety darkness of nightfall only hours before. His neutrality is wasted on the flatness his voice inflects, however. Not even Kylo can pretend to be anything other than absolutely thrilled at the prospect of joining up with the Resistance, the turn of events he and Rey have been following for hours, days, notwithstanding.
He eyes the cable before catching a section of it in his hand, rolling the feel of it between his fingers as if testing for weaknesses. ) How confident are you that it will hold?
( ooc: I just want to drop a more cohesive note and apologize for letting this + everything else dangle. Your last tag actually came the day I was in the ER with my dog who later got diagnosed with lymphoma - the same week my grandmother died lol - so it's been legitimately difficult for me to focus on more than one thing at a time. As a result most nights I am just like I'LL GO TO BED NOW INSTEAD OF DOING ANYTHInG, but hopefully as things stabilize I'll be able to find a rhythm. Just in time for school to begin for you again!! So no worries about getting back to this and I hope today I'll be able to get back to our other thread, too! ♥ )
Rey's hand flattens against her side, and he doesn't miss it, nor does he miss the alien pull of pain as if felt from layers of thick wool, pressure through gallons of water, the warmth of skin through a foot of glass. Kylo offers no reaction, no indication that he has noticed, no comment, for once, to contend with the weight of what he knows in direct contrast to what she offers. Which is nothing, though that's hardly a disappointment. Instead, he takes a balanced, measured step toward her, mindful of the distribution of his weight as it relates to the rocky, uneven terrain. )
Delightful. ( He's just as careful to keep any trace of anything from his tone as he is in trekking across the landscape, regardless of whether or not Rey has immediate access to the churning whirl of his anticipation regarding any mention of Organa. One extended meeting has hardly done anything to assuage the argument in his own head he refuses to acknowledge whenever the topic comes up, never mind the consequences of their conversation under the velvety darkness of nightfall only hours before. His neutrality is wasted on the flatness his voice inflects, however. Not even Kylo can pretend to be anything other than absolutely thrilled at the prospect of joining up with the Resistance, the turn of events he and Rey have been following for hours, days, notwithstanding.
He eyes the cable before catching a section of it in his hand, rolling the feel of it between his fingers as if testing for weaknesses. ) How confident are you that it will hold?
( ooc: I just want to drop a more cohesive note and apologize for letting this + everything else dangle. Your last tag actually came the day I was in the ER with my dog who later got diagnosed with lymphoma - the same week my grandmother died lol - so it's been legitimately difficult for me to focus on more than one thing at a time. As a result most nights I am just like I'LL GO TO BED NOW INSTEAD OF DOING ANYTHInG, but hopefully as things stabilize I'll be able to find a rhythm. Just in time for school to begin for you again!! So no worries about getting back to this and I hope today I'll be able to get back to our other thread, too! ♥ )
[ They are both foggy enough with fatigue—not just physical, but emotional and mental—from the constant fight and flight for their life that a mental fog entrenches them, dampening pain and distress alike. Certainty in General Organa's preparation is the only levity that she has to hold onto, and she lets it steer her like a beacon to the edge of the cliff, where she peers down to assure herself that the cord will stretch as long as they need it to.
It will. And once she's decided as much, she looks back at Kylo Ren and her expression creeps towards something uncertain. ]
I've used it to haul up probably three hundred pounds of equipment before. The two of us should be no problem. [ Perhaps at the same time, they will strain it, but she prefers that to the possibility of either escape and abandonment—unlikely, given that he would have disappeared in the night had he planned to at all—or ambush by Ji (in a scenario where she had survived the mine) or her followers at the bottom. Rey tipped her head to acknowledge the small window of ineffectiveness in her estimate. ]
It'll hold. [ That's what Han would say. She realizes after she says it, drops her gaze in a momentary remembrance, and turns from Kylo again. ] If you're worried, you can always hold onto the cliff on the way down so you can catch yourself if it snaps.
[ ooc; OH GOODNESS yeah that would wreck anybody's concentration and creativity. :( i'm so sorry! and I hope the wave of badness is over and that you find a good routine to help you find some kind of normal. ]
It will. And once she's decided as much, she looks back at Kylo Ren and her expression creeps towards something uncertain. ]
I've used it to haul up probably three hundred pounds of equipment before. The two of us should be no problem. [ Perhaps at the same time, they will strain it, but she prefers that to the possibility of either escape and abandonment—unlikely, given that he would have disappeared in the night had he planned to at all—or ambush by Ji (in a scenario where she had survived the mine) or her followers at the bottom. Rey tipped her head to acknowledge the small window of ineffectiveness in her estimate. ]
It'll hold. [ That's what Han would say. She realizes after she says it, drops her gaze in a momentary remembrance, and turns from Kylo again. ] If you're worried, you can always hold onto the cliff on the way down so you can catch yourself if it snaps.
[ ooc; OH GOODNESS yeah that would wreck anybody's concentration and creativity. :( i'm so sorry! and I hope the wave of badness is over and that you find a good routine to help you find some kind of normal. ]
( He narrows his eyes at her, a slight tension creeping in around the corners there, the same expression appearing at the corners of his mouth and bleeding down into the tight line that his shoulders perpetually find themselves gathered in, making the severity of it undoubtedly even more tense. Arms held down at his sides, his hands curl easily, naturally, into fists, and Kylo makes a noise somewhere between a snort and a grunt. Because what she's implying is not that he might be worried, but that he might be afraid, and given the history that particular topic of discourse has had between them in the past, he's eager to prove how incorrect that assumption she had made is these days - never mind that it had been right, never mind that she had pulled it out of his head as easily as selecting a holo to watch before bed, never mind that they have both done and seen things in the last few days that should prove such a statement void. )
You weigh ninety pounds soaking wet. ( Not strictly meant as an insult but admittedly spoken like one, his penchant for undercutting and sniping in the face of adversary being what it is. A childish remark for a childish perception of inferiority. He isn't afraid. He also doesn't weigh three hundred pounds on his own. ) If you've hauled twice that in junk before, I assume there won't be an issue. ( Even so, regardless of how mired in one another's thoughts they've managed to become, to say nothing of how they've needed and continue to need to cooperate, he won't be going first just in case Rey decides she would prefer him as a stain on the canyon floor.
He takes a step forward and bows, one arm held toward her. ) Ladies first.
( ooc: it has definitely killed a lot of my creative drive the last month, that's for sure. Weirdly I think when school starts again my brain will jump start as that routine does list toward normal. But thank you for being patient all the same. You are honestly great. ♥
You weigh ninety pounds soaking wet. ( Not strictly meant as an insult but admittedly spoken like one, his penchant for undercutting and sniping in the face of adversary being what it is. A childish remark for a childish perception of inferiority. He isn't afraid. He also doesn't weigh three hundred pounds on his own. ) If you've hauled twice that in junk before, I assume there won't be an issue. ( Even so, regardless of how mired in one another's thoughts they've managed to become, to say nothing of how they've needed and continue to need to cooperate, he won't be going first just in case Rey decides she would prefer him as a stain on the canyon floor.
He takes a step forward and bows, one arm held toward her. ) Ladies first.
( ooc: it has definitely killed a lot of my creative drive the last month, that's for sure. Weirdly I think when school starts again my brain will jump start as that routine does list toward normal. But thank you for being patient all the same. You are honestly great. ♥
routine is suuuuuper good for mindset i'm both fatigued by school and glad it's back
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
forcevisions
2016-08-17 03:21 am (UTC)(link)
[ Her mouth had opened to argue before she realized the futility of the task; at this point, bickering with him came as a reflex, one rooted in the principle of the matter, anathema to reason. She resolutely schooled that impulse into silence, and the effort showed in the set of her jaw that bordered on a childlike pout.
(She was not ninety pounds, and he damn well knew. He only wanted to irritate her anyway.)
Still, despite the posturing maturity of her silence, she made a show of stomping over to the edge of the cliff, dismissing his overblown invitation by refusing it a second glance. She tethered the metal cord to an ancient tree, wide around the base, by using the clip at the end of it. The click of metal satisfied her of its sturdiness, and she backed up directly to the edge of the cliff and peered over, not with wariness, but with careful estimation.
It was a long way down. She hoped he knew what he was doing without her up there to guide him; she didn't want to scrape him off the mine floor. ]
Don't fall.
[ The order made no attempt to disguise that her concern was for her sake and not for his: she refused to examine the concern on a deep enough level to consider what the loss would actually do to her, considering the steely bond between them. Could death break something like that?
Rather than think on it, she tipped the arch of her feet over the cliff, knees locked, and staggered downwards into ninety degree angle against the wall. Then, once steady, she took a few large bounds to scale it, gliding down the wire without trouble in a show that was more guided falling than anything more profound. ]
(She was not ninety pounds, and he damn well knew. He only wanted to irritate her anyway.)
Still, despite the posturing maturity of her silence, she made a show of stomping over to the edge of the cliff, dismissing his overblown invitation by refusing it a second glance. She tethered the metal cord to an ancient tree, wide around the base, by using the clip at the end of it. The click of metal satisfied her of its sturdiness, and she backed up directly to the edge of the cliff and peered over, not with wariness, but with careful estimation.
It was a long way down. She hoped he knew what he was doing without her up there to guide him; she didn't want to scrape him off the mine floor. ]
Don't fall.
[ The order made no attempt to disguise that her concern was for her sake and not for his: she refused to examine the concern on a deep enough level to consider what the loss would actually do to her, considering the steely bond between them. Could death break something like that?
Rather than think on it, she tipped the arch of her feet over the cliff, knees locked, and staggered downwards into ninety degree angle against the wall. Then, once steady, she took a few large bounds to scale it, gliding down the wire without trouble in a show that was more guided falling than anything more profound. ]
( Despite the flare of smug satisfaction at the expression on her face, Kylo is almost relieved that Rey doesn't follow up with some aggrandizing comment of her own, intent and content as they typically are to pursue argumentative lines of discourse so long as they extend into territory that doesn't shake the world around them like the slight tremor in the ground before a tripwired explosion. He refuses to let his guard down as a matter of pride and principle, but there is no disguising the fact that he is exhausted - they both are, beaten and bloodied, and it's a testament to their willpower - perhaps Rey's more than his - that they haven't gone for the other's jugular. That bone-deep weariness that he feels as an echo under his own skin might as well be reason enough for him to press his mouth into a thin line as he watches her secure the cable before tossing a flippant remark his way before disappearing over the edge of the cliff as if she has done it a thousand times before.
If the etches on that rusted durasteel wall that he had pulled from the bleak, lonely wasteland of her mind were any testament, it could easily be three thousand.
Rey is lithe and agile despite the pack of muscle that she carries underneath her skin like knotted cable, fusing with white bone and standing out in whipcord definition as she propels down the side of the rock with ease. Her descent is seemingly unburdened and hardly cumbersome; Kylo's own path down is not so graceful, though to his credit, there is no anxiety or trepidation that claws its way up from his gut to squeeze at his throat. He sinks like a stone, unused to the pull of gravity, unfamiliar with the steps required to scale the gritty surface with the elegance and relative ease that Rey seems to display below him. He easily weighs closer to a hundred pounds more than her than he doesn't, and while the cable holds on his descent, it's less than graceful, to say nothing of his dismount.
He could slow himself with the Force but he doesn't see the need to expel any excess energy, which results in him overestimating the distance between himself in the ground. As a result, he stumbles forward somewhat once his feet hit the ground, a sharp twinge running the length of his thigh and down into his knee. Once he's regained his footing, Kylo looks at her directly, as if daring her to say something. )
If the etches on that rusted durasteel wall that he had pulled from the bleak, lonely wasteland of her mind were any testament, it could easily be three thousand.
Rey is lithe and agile despite the pack of muscle that she carries underneath her skin like knotted cable, fusing with white bone and standing out in whipcord definition as she propels down the side of the rock with ease. Her descent is seemingly unburdened and hardly cumbersome; Kylo's own path down is not so graceful, though to his credit, there is no anxiety or trepidation that claws its way up from his gut to squeeze at his throat. He sinks like a stone, unused to the pull of gravity, unfamiliar with the steps required to scale the gritty surface with the elegance and relative ease that Rey seems to display below him. He easily weighs closer to a hundred pounds more than her than he doesn't, and while the cable holds on his descent, it's less than graceful, to say nothing of his dismount.
He could slow himself with the Force but he doesn't see the need to expel any excess energy, which results in him overestimating the distance between himself in the ground. As a result, he stumbles forward somewhat once his feet hit the ground, a sharp twinge running the length of his thigh and down into his knee. Once he's regained his footing, Kylo looks at her directly, as if daring her to say something. )
now that you're back in the atmospheeere drops of jupiter in your haiiir mixes pop lyrics nbd
forcevisions
2016-10-18 04:30 am (UTC)(link)
[ If Rey glided to the ground, Ren clattered like breaking glass. He came down with such force that Rey stepped back quite suddenly, ready to clear herself of the blast radius when he tumbled, but he caught himself at the last minute so that the worst of the force was absorbed in his knees instead of spread out in a stumble and fall.
It felt reassuring somehow to watch him fail, as though she hadn't already cut him down and wrangled him enough times to reassure herself that the buffed sheen of his exterior was an illusion.
When she caught his gaze, she held it for a moment, considered a smug aside, but eventually settled on the safe assumption that whatever freeing sense of relief and superiority she got from his indignity would be conveyed to him without the trouble of words—finally, she had found a pleasant side-effect to the bond between them. It was petty of her, and for a moment she deigned to bask in it.
The ghost of a smile touched her lips, present only in her eyes and the barest sliver of the corners of her mouth, and she turned away from him, calmly leading the way from the edge of the cliff without another word on the subject. ]
There are protocols in place for when the Resistance is forced to scatter like this. Encoded missives with coordinates for a relay point. [ The closer they drifted towards the Falcon, the lighter she felt. Decades of sand had washed off quick. The short day's grime felt heavy on her skin now. ] But …
[ She glanced back at him, wondering if he'd already drawn the same conclusions. There was every chance they'd assumed a betrayal on Hapes, second-guessed Kylo Ren's short leash, and decided they were better off without risking contact with the young Force-users. And Rey, a second mistake. If he hadn't, it was writ across her face now. ]
It felt reassuring somehow to watch him fail, as though she hadn't already cut him down and wrangled him enough times to reassure herself that the buffed sheen of his exterior was an illusion.
When she caught his gaze, she held it for a moment, considered a smug aside, but eventually settled on the safe assumption that whatever freeing sense of relief and superiority she got from his indignity would be conveyed to him without the trouble of words—finally, she had found a pleasant side-effect to the bond between them. It was petty of her, and for a moment she deigned to bask in it.
The ghost of a smile touched her lips, present only in her eyes and the barest sliver of the corners of her mouth, and she turned away from him, calmly leading the way from the edge of the cliff without another word on the subject. ]
There are protocols in place for when the Resistance is forced to scatter like this. Encoded missives with coordinates for a relay point. [ The closer they drifted towards the Falcon, the lighter she felt. Decades of sand had washed off quick. The short day's grime felt heavy on her skin now. ] But …
[ She glanced back at him, wondering if he'd already drawn the same conclusions. There was every chance they'd assumed a betrayal on Hapes, second-guessed Kylo Ren's short leash, and decided they were better off without risking contact with the young Force-users. And Rey, a second mistake. If he hadn't, it was writ across her face now. ]
( He at least has the dignity not to stumble - or, rather, the pride not to let the impact's jar against the damage done to his leg do anything more than seeing the momentary disruption of his balance. He still holds onto the cable, though it's less a matter of functionality or hoisting himself up into a standing position and more a matter of doing something with his hands, and only lets go of it in order to stalk off once Rey turns on her heel and begins leading them away from the cliff's edge, skulking behind her for a moment like a cat who's just had a bucket of paint dumped over its head. The weight of the last few days certainly presses down on his back and shoulders as though that were a reality, and for as much as he might be able to blame it on the physical exertion and toll that it's had - not solely on him, but on the both of them, a constant, endless feedback loop threaded over and over and over until distinguishing lines blur and the edges fade away - Kylo knows that it's more than that.
The Supreme Leader is out there, somewhere, the other remaining Knights are out there, Organa is out there. Requisite detours and the kinds of potential setbacks that Rey describes, as the length of his stride catches up to her enough that he has to slow in order not to pass her, are only delaying the inevitable: not necessarily a waiting punishment or conviction, but a choice. He'd made one here on this moon, when he'd turned against former allies in a bid to not only protect himself but the girl walking next to him, but it had been a separate continent from the decisions that he knows are waiting for him, for the both of them, when they rejoin the hobbled-together Resistance fleet.
Rey's feelings of superiority, that smug satisfaction that had manifested in the moments before she'd set off, are replaced by something more tuned to the nature of their circumstances the closer that they come to where they'd touched down the day before. Feelings that are reflected and reciprocated in himself, despite the pounding of his subconscious telling him to disregard it. He grunts. )
I suppose you'll have to take your chances, won't you. Trust that your word means as much as you want to believe that it does. ( The comments are meant to be biting, a critical review of her place among the ranks of other Resistance fighters. Instead, it sounds more resigned, and Kylo chances a sideways glance at her face, swallowing before gesturing back toward the direction of the ship. ) There's no way of knowing until we know.
( What they might do should her doubts end up confirmed, he has no idea. He'd think of something. )
The Supreme Leader is out there, somewhere, the other remaining Knights are out there, Organa is out there. Requisite detours and the kinds of potential setbacks that Rey describes, as the length of his stride catches up to her enough that he has to slow in order not to pass her, are only delaying the inevitable: not necessarily a waiting punishment or conviction, but a choice. He'd made one here on this moon, when he'd turned against former allies in a bid to not only protect himself but the girl walking next to him, but it had been a separate continent from the decisions that he knows are waiting for him, for the both of them, when they rejoin the hobbled-together Resistance fleet.
Rey's feelings of superiority, that smug satisfaction that had manifested in the moments before she'd set off, are replaced by something more tuned to the nature of their circumstances the closer that they come to where they'd touched down the day before. Feelings that are reflected and reciprocated in himself, despite the pounding of his subconscious telling him to disregard it. He grunts. )
I suppose you'll have to take your chances, won't you. Trust that your word means as much as you want to believe that it does. ( The comments are meant to be biting, a critical review of her place among the ranks of other Resistance fighters. Instead, it sounds more resigned, and Kylo chances a sideways glance at her face, swallowing before gesturing back toward the direction of the ship. ) There's no way of knowing until we know.
( What they might do should her doubts end up confirmed, he has no idea. He'd think of something. )
[ And certainly, she did hope. More ardently than she would have before they'd touched down on this rock, to her surprise, for as much as she loathed the connection between them and the pain it had caused her in the tunnels, resented him for how entwined their fates had become, she also understood what had taken place here.
It was not the same as turning his back on Snoke to free himself. Untethering himself was a different endeavor, one that she felt was independent of his role in the Resistance, in her life, in Luke's, regardless of her attestations to Leia in his defense. He wanted freedom, and they had given it to him. But here, he reiterated his disloyalty, not to protect only himself, but her as well.
Or maybe she's just grown resigned as he has, accepting that his fate and hers are written together now and making more palatable the notion that they might both be lepers of their respective causes, left to make their own place in this war. ]
Bright side. [ She pushed a cluster of bushes out of the way to open up a clear view of the Falcon. She felt better just seeing it. ] If we're unwelcome in their ranks, you won't be imprisoned anymore. Just on the run. [ She was trying her best, as she always did, to make the most of a shitty situation. By coincidence, this entailed roping him into the same rough optimism. Glancing back at him again, she furrowed her brow. ] Actually, come to think of it, I'm not sure if that's better or worse.
[ It was a cold day in hell, surely, for Rey to want a break from flying, but her arms tensed up in anticipation of the requisite levering motions. The cramped cabin space she still found comforting, the sight of the Falcon that she considered her roving home, and the promise of a new horizon line to stare out at. Unfamiliar. No sand. ]
It was not the same as turning his back on Snoke to free himself. Untethering himself was a different endeavor, one that she felt was independent of his role in the Resistance, in her life, in Luke's, regardless of her attestations to Leia in his defense. He wanted freedom, and they had given it to him. But here, he reiterated his disloyalty, not to protect only himself, but her as well.
Or maybe she's just grown resigned as he has, accepting that his fate and hers are written together now and making more palatable the notion that they might both be lepers of their respective causes, left to make their own place in this war. ]
Bright side. [ She pushed a cluster of bushes out of the way to open up a clear view of the Falcon. She felt better just seeing it. ] If we're unwelcome in their ranks, you won't be imprisoned anymore. Just on the run. [ She was trying her best, as she always did, to make the most of a shitty situation. By coincidence, this entailed roping him into the same rough optimism. Glancing back at him again, she furrowed her brow. ] Actually, come to think of it, I'm not sure if that's better or worse.
[ It was a cold day in hell, surely, for Rey to want a break from flying, but her arms tensed up in anticipation of the requisite levering motions. The cramped cabin space she still found comforting, the sight of the Falcon that she considered her roving home, and the promise of a new horizon line to stare out at. Unfamiliar. No sand. ]
( If Rey felt better by simply looking at the scrap of bolts and poorly soldered wires waiting for them underneath the canopy of decent camouflage, Kylo, certainly, felt worse. Adding insult to injury, given the dull throb currently traveling the length of his leg. Dull like the edge of a blade still sharp enough to cut but not without enough force exerted to break the skin to the muscle and bone beneath, like gnawing hunger displaced after too long spent without some sort of compensation, discarded as a necessity rather than a convenience. Too much had attached itself to that ship for boarding it again to be of no consequence, and although he had, by that point, spent enough time on board to diminish many of the ghosts lingering within, the prospect of doing it all over again still left a sour taste in his mouth.
Or maybe that was just hunger tinged with the reality that Rey was proposing, for however misguided it seemed. All at once, it felt like they were back on opposing sides, lines of cooperation diminished not as a result of their mutual compliance but as a reminder of the world they lived in, where they had come from and where they were expected to go. Ripped apart but still connected, a vast, great length of spun wire spanning the galaxy between them. )
You can't honestly believe that the Resistance will let me go. ( His voice, despite his effort to be contrary, to be vindictive, to be arrogant, wavered somewhere in the middle, regaining traction enough to offer a smooth conclusion, even though the thread that it hung by was threatening to snap. Two Knights dead - maybe; how could they be sure about Ji? - would be enough to seal his fate with the Supreme Leader even without the effect that the bond had on him, without what he'd done as Rey had guided him through layers and layers of subconsciousness. Without Rey, and whatever compassion he'd been accused before of having for her, what that meant in conjunction with the tumultuous fall his father had taken over the side of that bridge. What he wanted, put more simply, although if prompted Kylo still wasn't sure that he would have a complete answer.
None of which answered the question on the Resistance's side, whether or not his actions would be enough to construe him as anything other than a war criminal to be put down or imprisoned. Rey's view held enough optimism - and not just for him, but for the both of them - to set his teeth against one another in a sharp grind, but Kylo instead only bit the inside of his cheek, quelling the burn of his doubt somewhat. ) They aren't going to let me waltz out to fade into obscurity, just as they aren't going to cast you out because you think you might be more trouble than you're worth. Especially if they think that I've betrayed them - betrayed you. Organa wouldn't stand for it, and neither would any of those people that you've determined merit enough of your attention to call them friends. ( Despite the level determination to get him to see otherwise, he refused to relent to something that might only momentarily assuage the lingering fear and trepidation, and chose instead to linger in the comfort of his own attached perception of reality. The First Order would certainly not relent, and the Resistance would be stupid to do so as a matter of principle.
Waiting for the ramp to descend and allow them entry, Kylo turned halfway to her. ) I think it would be worse.
( Drifting aimlessly, no purpose, no goal, nothing to strive toward, nothing to snuff out. Just another face in a crowd. )
Or maybe that was just hunger tinged with the reality that Rey was proposing, for however misguided it seemed. All at once, it felt like they were back on opposing sides, lines of cooperation diminished not as a result of their mutual compliance but as a reminder of the world they lived in, where they had come from and where they were expected to go. Ripped apart but still connected, a vast, great length of spun wire spanning the galaxy between them. )
You can't honestly believe that the Resistance will let me go. ( His voice, despite his effort to be contrary, to be vindictive, to be arrogant, wavered somewhere in the middle, regaining traction enough to offer a smooth conclusion, even though the thread that it hung by was threatening to snap. Two Knights dead - maybe; how could they be sure about Ji? - would be enough to seal his fate with the Supreme Leader even without the effect that the bond had on him, without what he'd done as Rey had guided him through layers and layers of subconsciousness. Without Rey, and whatever compassion he'd been accused before of having for her, what that meant in conjunction with the tumultuous fall his father had taken over the side of that bridge. What he wanted, put more simply, although if prompted Kylo still wasn't sure that he would have a complete answer.
None of which answered the question on the Resistance's side, whether or not his actions would be enough to construe him as anything other than a war criminal to be put down or imprisoned. Rey's view held enough optimism - and not just for him, but for the both of them - to set his teeth against one another in a sharp grind, but Kylo instead only bit the inside of his cheek, quelling the burn of his doubt somewhat. ) They aren't going to let me waltz out to fade into obscurity, just as they aren't going to cast you out because you think you might be more trouble than you're worth. Especially if they think that I've betrayed them - betrayed you. Organa wouldn't stand for it, and neither would any of those people that you've determined merit enough of your attention to call them friends. ( Despite the level determination to get him to see otherwise, he refused to relent to something that might only momentarily assuage the lingering fear and trepidation, and chose instead to linger in the comfort of his own attached perception of reality. The First Order would certainly not relent, and the Resistance would be stupid to do so as a matter of principle.
Waiting for the ramp to descend and allow them entry, Kylo turned halfway to her. ) I think it would be worse.
( Drifting aimlessly, no purpose, no goal, nothing to strive toward, nothing to snuff out. Just another face in a crowd. )
[ The smooth voice he used to goad her with his fate seemed to assert that he valued spite and proving her wrong more than his own life—perhaps, though, it really just meant he saw little value to his life anymore in the first place. It didn't take much, then, to value anything above it. The glance she cast his way worried over him, absently, more out of uncertainty for what his callous irreverence could mean for her than anything sentimental. For better or worse, the Force intertwined their fates, fibers weaving some great tapestry. She could not imagine what image it would reveal, not yet, but every missed stitch gave her cause for panic. ]
Does that make you an optimist, thinking they'll have us back? [ She offered it aloud for no reason other than the amusement it gave her to think of how that jarred against her contrary observations of him. The thought crinkled her nose, but her expression remained too grim to even entertain the notion of a smile, and when the ramp finished its hydraulic glide to the ground, she did not waste a minute before hiking up into the cabin.
Being linked to him as she was forced her into an uneasy dissonance climbing that ramp; to Rey, it represented the closest thing to a home she'd known off that spit of desert in Jakku that she'd tethered herself too for a decade too long, but to Kylo Ren, it was a prison of unpleasant memories. It made her stomach turn, and she shucked his emotions off stubbornly to try and alleviate the discomfort it posed.
Even when she was sure the emotions clouding her mind were only her own, though, she felt the acute certainty of his preference: prison, indeed. The isolation of floating through space as a nobody was immeasurable. She'd felt it herself, the loneliness it brought, hated her environment but felt trapped in it, as anyone seeking a life of obscurity might. Power had fostered in her a pride which had likened her as much as anything else to the one-time enemy that accompanied her now as her only ally. ] We'll need to keep communication channels open and pop out of hyperspace to try and pick it up. If I had to guess, they'd at least have D'Qar broadcasting. We can start there.
Does that make you an optimist, thinking they'll have us back? [ She offered it aloud for no reason other than the amusement it gave her to think of how that jarred against her contrary observations of him. The thought crinkled her nose, but her expression remained too grim to even entertain the notion of a smile, and when the ramp finished its hydraulic glide to the ground, she did not waste a minute before hiking up into the cabin.
Being linked to him as she was forced her into an uneasy dissonance climbing that ramp; to Rey, it represented the closest thing to a home she'd known off that spit of desert in Jakku that she'd tethered herself too for a decade too long, but to Kylo Ren, it was a prison of unpleasant memories. It made her stomach turn, and she shucked his emotions off stubbornly to try and alleviate the discomfort it posed.
Even when she was sure the emotions clouding her mind were only her own, though, she felt the acute certainty of his preference: prison, indeed. The isolation of floating through space as a nobody was immeasurable. She'd felt it herself, the loneliness it brought, hated her environment but felt trapped in it, as anyone seeking a life of obscurity might. Power had fostered in her a pride which had likened her as much as anything else to the one-time enemy that accompanied her now as her only ally. ] We'll need to keep communication channels open and pop out of hyperspace to try and pick it up. If I had to guess, they'd at least have D'Qar broadcasting. We can start there.
[ All around the base, Resistance fighters scrambled, a flurry of disconnected parts that could not work in concert with one another, each trying to address the same problem. Even those without the appropriate skillset hummed, incapable of standing still, but for the flight commander, who insisted firmly that the problem lay in their old, secondhand equipment, barely updated since the last Rebellion.
At least, he kept saying it until Luke Skywalker climbed into the pit of a x-wing grounded for a blown engine and confirmed that the problem lay in a jamming signal. Without a way to reach the parts of the fleet in the air, it took him and Rey another three hours to get the engine overhauled and flightready so that Luke could go up and find it.
Leia and Rey both hated the idea, each arguing for different reasons that Luke was too valuable to the Resistance, and to them, to risk heading up there alone, but he did it. And Leia, strong as ever, took it without letting it bow her back. She even smiled at Rey when she told her to go get some rest, promising any updates.
But Rey didn't trudge back to her bunk. She started that way, distracted by trying to reach out for Luke with the Force, to get a sense of where he was so she could track him out there, but she diverted as soon as she broke the tree line. No matter what the Force-sensitive leadership of the Resistance had to say about it, an aura of distrust still centered around the barracks where Kylo Ren was quartered, permeating into the physical world through the squish of the 24-hour guard's boots in the soil around the perimeter, through the several rooms of buffer between his bunk and any other Resistance fighter, through the soldiers who are chosen to stay there.
Rey might be the only person in the camp who actually wants to be there. She announces herself with a knock on the door, an anxiousness thick in the air around her. Worry for Luke. ]
At least, he kept saying it until Luke Skywalker climbed into the pit of a x-wing grounded for a blown engine and confirmed that the problem lay in a jamming signal. Without a way to reach the parts of the fleet in the air, it took him and Rey another three hours to get the engine overhauled and flightready so that Luke could go up and find it.
Leia and Rey both hated the idea, each arguing for different reasons that Luke was too valuable to the Resistance, and to them, to risk heading up there alone, but he did it. And Leia, strong as ever, took it without letting it bow her back. She even smiled at Rey when she told her to go get some rest, promising any updates.
But Rey didn't trudge back to her bunk. She started that way, distracted by trying to reach out for Luke with the Force, to get a sense of where he was so she could track him out there, but she diverted as soon as she broke the tree line. No matter what the Force-sensitive leadership of the Resistance had to say about it, an aura of distrust still centered around the barracks where Kylo Ren was quartered, permeating into the physical world through the squish of the 24-hour guard's boots in the soil around the perimeter, through the several rooms of buffer between his bunk and any other Resistance fighter, through the soldiers who are chosen to stay there.
Rey might be the only person in the camp who actually wants to be there. She announces herself with a knock on the door, an anxiousness thick in the air around her. Worry for Luke. ]
( The datapad having fallen dark not long after his last returned message, Kylo leaves it discarded and dark on the neat and orderly posture of his mattress and the blankets that cover it, turning his attention instead to what might not qualify, necessarily, as a hobby but which easily qualifies as a distraction. Not that he needs one, when a careful pluck at the string of the bond between them reveals no tight, straining imperfections that might signify anger, and not when he is more than aware that Rey would be more than happy to alert him of just how angry she was and the reasons as to why were it a foregone conclusion based on their last few exchanges. He has begun learning the iterations of her anger with more precision, but he still spreads out a mat across the surface of his desk and unfurls a tool kit from the top drawer and begins disassembling the components of his lightsaber underneath the amber glow of the lamp.
Most of the damage that he had been able to repair following Rey's dismantling of it on Starkiller Base had been a temporary fix, stripped and cleaned and reconstructed with various parts over the course of the completion of his training under Snoke, meant to stubbornly preserve the design and display of the blade if not the function of it. Soldering wires together now along the exposed belly and scraping one of the quillons clean of residue only continues to prove to him the mistake that he had made in not scrapping the entirety of it altogether and starting from scratch. But the way that it shakes in his hand has become a sense in and of itself, and he knows the weight of it before it even slaps into his palm, and, even more, a larger part of him won't be called a fool for failing to produce something lasting.
Not for the first time, he considers the saber that hangs from Rey's belt with a mixture of bitter resentment and self-loathing, though it's explored less than even he might like at this point in the progression of their orbital lives as the girl in question's presence races through the Force like a jolt of electricity through the tracery veins. As a consequence, Kylo has a set of goggles pushed up over his forehead when he gestures toward the door at her knock, waving it open without moving from his seat, though he does tilt the chair back and away from the desk and its mess in order to get a good look at her as she steps across the threshold. He quirks a brow at her. )
Bad news? ( Anxiety rolls off of her like fog and burrows its way down into his bones until his knuckles feel stiff. )
Most of the damage that he had been able to repair following Rey's dismantling of it on Starkiller Base had been a temporary fix, stripped and cleaned and reconstructed with various parts over the course of the completion of his training under Snoke, meant to stubbornly preserve the design and display of the blade if not the function of it. Soldering wires together now along the exposed belly and scraping one of the quillons clean of residue only continues to prove to him the mistake that he had made in not scrapping the entirety of it altogether and starting from scratch. But the way that it shakes in his hand has become a sense in and of itself, and he knows the weight of it before it even slaps into his palm, and, even more, a larger part of him won't be called a fool for failing to produce something lasting.
Not for the first time, he considers the saber that hangs from Rey's belt with a mixture of bitter resentment and self-loathing, though it's explored less than even he might like at this point in the progression of their orbital lives as the girl in question's presence races through the Force like a jolt of electricity through the tracery veins. As a consequence, Kylo has a set of goggles pushed up over his forehead when he gestures toward the door at her knock, waving it open without moving from his seat, though he does tilt the chair back and away from the desk and its mess in order to get a good look at her as she steps across the threshold. He quirks a brow at her. )
Bad news? ( Anxiety rolls off of her like fog and burrows its way down into his bones until his knuckles feel stiff. )
Luke's dealing with it.
[ Even without the benefit of their bond, the abrupt answer paints a clear picture of her dissatisfaction, and she trudges in to punctuate it with the scuff of her boots on the metal floor. She punches her thumb into the panel on the inside to slide the door shut behind her, so subconscious is her instinct to hide them away from the world.
The sharp punctuating notes of these movements all say the same thing: she would rather be dealing with it for any number of reasons, but instead, she's here. It doesn't escape her to be grateful, in a sense, because it means not arriving terribly late and feeling the need to justify her tardiness and her role in the Resistance to Kylo Ren, who she never wanted to apologize to for anything, even now. A larger part hates waiting. ]
We'll know when he does. [ For a moment, Luke is forgotten, and she approaches the desk, hands settling in a familiar pattern against the slope of his shoulders so she can peer over the top of his head. Her upper body presses to his over the back of the chair, and the saber at her hip clacks metal on metal as it swings forward with her. ] What's all that?
[ Even without the benefit of their bond, the abrupt answer paints a clear picture of her dissatisfaction, and she trudges in to punctuate it with the scuff of her boots on the metal floor. She punches her thumb into the panel on the inside to slide the door shut behind her, so subconscious is her instinct to hide them away from the world.
The sharp punctuating notes of these movements all say the same thing: she would rather be dealing with it for any number of reasons, but instead, she's here. It doesn't escape her to be grateful, in a sense, because it means not arriving terribly late and feeling the need to justify her tardiness and her role in the Resistance to Kylo Ren, who she never wanted to apologize to for anything, even now. A larger part hates waiting. ]
We'll know when he does. [ For a moment, Luke is forgotten, and she approaches the desk, hands settling in a familiar pattern against the slope of his shoulders so she can peer over the top of his head. Her upper body presses to his over the back of the chair, and the saber at her hip clacks metal on metal as it swings forward with her. ] What's all that?
( That stiffness gives way to a jittery sort of energy, a sensation that inspires him to flex his fingers as much as the perception of an ache might have had it not changed midstream. The sort of impatience and the kind of anxiousness that she's describing between the shuffle of her boots against the floor, the jab of her thumb into the door panel, the general air of discontent that hangs around her like the permanent scent of sun and sweat, are feelings that he has more than enough experience with, although his reactions tend to run less contained than the control Rey exhibits and more in line with inserting himself into the middle of a perceived problem and running in an entirely different direction with it. His presence here should be testimony to that. )
Distraction. ( Kylo punctuates this answer with the clack of the chair legs against the floor, giving in easily to the familiarity of the touch of her hands over his shoulders and the parenthetical curve of her over his back. At this elbow, he feels the swing of that lightsaber - nearly close enough to brush against the fabric of his shirt, were it not impeded by the chair - and he spreads his hands over the puzzle pieces of his own blade that he's yet to fit dutifully back together. His thumbnail catches one of the shrouds covering a crossguard vent. ) I think one of the shrouds might be coming loose.
( But it's of no consequence given the state of things - or maybe it should be, given the state of things. If Skywalker returns with some sort of indication that they need to move, however quickly, it wouldn't do well to be caught with a dismantled lightsaber on his hands, regardless of what might be coming for them. No immediate consequence, then, as Kylo curls a hand around Rey's wrist and uses it as a means of trying to coax her around the back of the chair and down into his lap without having to haul her there of his own volition. And if not that, he'll settle for a lean against the desk, so long as he can mostly look her in the eye. ) Why Luke?
( To his credit, he doesn't choke on the name, but even Kylo hears the weight ascribed to a word that has become unfamiliar in his mouth. Still, this isn't about that particular history, and even if he thinks that he probably knows the reasons why Skywalker would be the one set up, he gets the sense that there's enough lingering frustration left in Rey following that decision that she might like to vent about it around someone who won't chastise her for feeling frustration. Why Luke and not you? )
Distraction. ( Kylo punctuates this answer with the clack of the chair legs against the floor, giving in easily to the familiarity of the touch of her hands over his shoulders and the parenthetical curve of her over his back. At this elbow, he feels the swing of that lightsaber - nearly close enough to brush against the fabric of his shirt, were it not impeded by the chair - and he spreads his hands over the puzzle pieces of his own blade that he's yet to fit dutifully back together. His thumbnail catches one of the shrouds covering a crossguard vent. ) I think one of the shrouds might be coming loose.
( But it's of no consequence given the state of things - or maybe it should be, given the state of things. If Skywalker returns with some sort of indication that they need to move, however quickly, it wouldn't do well to be caught with a dismantled lightsaber on his hands, regardless of what might be coming for them. No immediate consequence, then, as Kylo curls a hand around Rey's wrist and uses it as a means of trying to coax her around the back of the chair and down into his lap without having to haul her there of his own volition. And if not that, he'll settle for a lean against the desk, so long as he can mostly look her in the eye. ) Why Luke?
( To his credit, he doesn't choke on the name, but even Kylo hears the weight ascribed to a word that has become unfamiliar in his mouth. Still, this isn't about that particular history, and even if he thinks that he probably knows the reasons why Skywalker would be the one set up, he gets the sense that there's enough lingering frustration left in Rey following that decision that she might like to vent about it around someone who won't chastise her for feeling frustration. Why Luke and not you? )
this took me a really long time because all i did today was cry about carrie fisher
forcevisions
2016-12-28 05:21 am (UTC)(link)
[ At his coaxing, she relented and spilled into his lap with a readiness that betrayed the thin measure of restraint by which she had refrained from climbing into it of her own accord right off the bat. Conversation about Luke made for a poor ambience—it always coiled Kylo spring-tight like a viper, ready to snap on the first unfortunate misstep. But this time, he drew the subject out, and despite the stubborn grind of his question, the resistance it showed, that offered some willingness to engage.
Perhaps after all this time he had come to accept that Luke (and his mother) could not be avoided and dismissed out of hand forever; sooner or later, this gridlock they faced would need to be dealt with, resolved. But probably not. More likely, his interest lay only in how it impacted her. He had that way about him. ]
Most of the fleet's up there. It took both of us to get something armed for worst case scenario to be spaceworthy for him, and Master Luke's the better pilot, the more seasoned fighter, the— [ To list the reasons, she realized, only reinforced her frustration and directed it inward at her inadequacies, so she stopped abruptly and huffed out a breath. ] It's strategic. We don't know what's up there.
[ She toyed with one of the vents of his saber hilt, rolling it with the press of a single finger across the desk top, her despondence resolute. Even if the reasoning made sense, she could not help but feel neutered by sitting here instead of flying up there with him. Worse, it made her realize something, something new: Luke considered himself more expendable to the Resistance than he considered Rey.
Swallowing something like that came in stages. ]
If it's something jamming our signal, like we suspect, I'll bet it's to stop the scanners, and the communications are a byproduct. It's just as likely they're trying to get something by us as they are trying to get anything into our airspace.
Perhaps after all this time he had come to accept that Luke (and his mother) could not be avoided and dismissed out of hand forever; sooner or later, this gridlock they faced would need to be dealt with, resolved. But probably not. More likely, his interest lay only in how it impacted her. He had that way about him. ]
Most of the fleet's up there. It took both of us to get something armed for worst case scenario to be spaceworthy for him, and Master Luke's the better pilot, the more seasoned fighter, the— [ To list the reasons, she realized, only reinforced her frustration and directed it inward at her inadequacies, so she stopped abruptly and huffed out a breath. ] It's strategic. We don't know what's up there.
[ She toyed with one of the vents of his saber hilt, rolling it with the press of a single finger across the desk top, her despondence resolute. Even if the reasoning made sense, she could not help but feel neutered by sitting here instead of flying up there with him. Worse, it made her realize something, something new: Luke considered himself more expendable to the Resistance than he considered Rey.
Swallowing something like that came in stages. ]
If it's something jamming our signal, like we suspect, I'll bet it's to stop the scanners, and the communications are a byproduct. It's just as likely they're trying to get something by us as they are trying to get anything into our airspace.
( The ease with which she slips into his lap should probably still be surprising, but it isn't. Not that the novelty has worn off, only that the memory of their beginning and middle should make the fact a unique concept in and of itself, a constant reminder of what boon he has been granted despite the fact that what he really deserves - and what so many would argue for - is punishment. Second chances have been offered to him again and again, and despite the fact that most of them sit with him like having his gut pummeled by the end of a pike, they have still been given in the first place. Many others deserve more and get less. Kylo knows that firsthand.
The settle of Rey's weight across his thighs, the back of her leg coming to rest against the top of his knee, the automatic and instinctive way she had touched him to begin with and its counterpart in the loop of his arm around her waist now - all of it should still come as some sort of surprise, but what really surprises him in the moments he spends disassembling it in his head is the way that he can feel himself relax under her weight. It offers not necessarily a different perspective on what he can sense and pick up from her in the moments between what she says and what she does, what she confesses and what he responds to, but a less forced approach to feeling it altogether. An admittance, rather than an invasion. Kylo presses the flat of his palm, fingers splayed wide, against her back. )
I would rather he go than you. ( Not for the reasons that she might suspect - because he is the better pilot; because he's more experienced; because Kylo cares much less about whether or not Luke lives or dies, never mind that he admittedly does care more whether Rey lives or dies; because bad blood or animosity or because his interest does lie in how circumstances impact her over anyone else - but for more selfish ones, too. It's better, when she's around. Clearer. Easier. ) I assume General Organa was present. ( Kylo swallows imperceptibly, watching her fingers move across the discarded metal parts on the desktop. ) Any theories? I can't imagine the First Order would be so insidious, considering General Hux's last pet project. ( There are other possibilities, of course. One of them leaves him uneasy, memory skipping back to that Mandalorian moon, the mine shaft.
Realizations, however obvious to whichever party, come in twos. )
The settle of Rey's weight across his thighs, the back of her leg coming to rest against the top of his knee, the automatic and instinctive way she had touched him to begin with and its counterpart in the loop of his arm around her waist now - all of it should still come as some sort of surprise, but what really surprises him in the moments he spends disassembling it in his head is the way that he can feel himself relax under her weight. It offers not necessarily a different perspective on what he can sense and pick up from her in the moments between what she says and what she does, what she confesses and what he responds to, but a less forced approach to feeling it altogether. An admittance, rather than an invasion. Kylo presses the flat of his palm, fingers splayed wide, against her back. )
I would rather he go than you. ( Not for the reasons that she might suspect - because he is the better pilot; because he's more experienced; because Kylo cares much less about whether or not Luke lives or dies, never mind that he admittedly does care more whether Rey lives or dies; because bad blood or animosity or because his interest does lie in how circumstances impact her over anyone else - but for more selfish ones, too. It's better, when she's around. Clearer. Easier. ) I assume General Organa was present. ( Kylo swallows imperceptibly, watching her fingers move across the discarded metal parts on the desktop. ) Any theories? I can't imagine the First Order would be so insidious, considering General Hux's last pet project. ( There are other possibilities, of course. One of them leaves him uneasy, memory skipping back to that Mandalorian moon, the mine shaft.
Realizations, however obvious to whichever party, come in twos. )
It was suggested that it might be a field test of some kind, but General Organa thought preparations were more likely. We'd waste our efforts searching for an enemy attack while First Order ships successfully moved something high value right across Republic airspace.
[ The politics bore her, and her tone makes no secret of that. It all sounds like strategizing and theorizing that she can do nothing about and does not have the background to contribute anything to. Which is as much her fault as anyone else's admittedly, but it does make her eager to stay out of it. ]
Another weapon. A worse weapon.
[ There's always a worse weapon. Of greater concern to her: ] Poe and Finn are up there.
[ As she says it, her voice wobbles between hope that they'll look after Luke and hope that Luke will look after them and worry for all three. Her fingertips skip over to and close in a fist around the cracked kyber at the center of his lightsaber, clasping the token as some sort of worry stone to distract herself. ]
[ The politics bore her, and her tone makes no secret of that. It all sounds like strategizing and theorizing that she can do nothing about and does not have the background to contribute anything to. Which is as much her fault as anyone else's admittedly, but it does make her eager to stay out of it. ]
Another weapon. A worse weapon.
[ There's always a worse weapon. Of greater concern to her: ] Poe and Finn are up there.
[ As she says it, her voice wobbles between hope that they'll look after Luke and hope that Luke will look after them and worry for all three. Her fingertips skip over to and close in a fist around the cracked kyber at the center of his lightsaber, clasping the token as some sort of worry stone to distract herself. ]
There is always a weapon. And no originality therein. ( His tone offers no condolences for the First Order's distinct lack of taste, drier than sinking fields of sand and arid wind that Rey would be equally familiar with. He hadn't been given the luxury of permission to air his personal grievances with Starkiller Base in the moments leading up to its firing or in the aftermath of the Hosnian System's eradication, but silence hadn't meant that he supported it, not that this was a fact that had parried favor with Resistance leaders other than Organa or Skywalker and not that it mattered when billions of people were alive one minute and simply gone the next. No matter what his decisions, no matter what path he had taken, the absolute and total destruction of an entire planet is a pain that doesn't leave a person's voice in whatever iteration, and regardless of his personal feelings toward Leia Organa, that fact and her legendary perseverance in spite of it is not something that Kylo Ren forgot even once Ben Solo had fallen quiet.
He shares her interest in politics of that magnitude, at least, and if they are well suited anywhere, it's in that. Not for lack of understanding - and despite the bored note in Rey's tone, Kylo suspects that she understands more than she might be aware of - but because the direction that they are standing is of an entirely different set of coordinates from everyone else's. What he does not share is her interest in her friends, but Kylo supposes that's part of what being a unit in this capacity involves, and he manages not to sound too uninterested in the topic despite his much more candid interest in her hand closing around the fractured kyber crystal. ) Between the three of them, they're certainly capable. I would even be willing to admit that they're efficient, although don't repeat it to them. I don't think there are many fainting lounges on this planet.
( In lieu of a more helpful or concerned response, Kylo turns his face toward the rounded rise of her shoulder and presses the closed line of his mouth to it, the rough scrape of linen warm and earthy-smelling underneath his nose as he studies where her fingers enclose around his saber. He lifts his chin half a beat later and tests the material of her hemline between his thumb and forefinger as he asks - ) Have you given any thought or discussion to building your own? Not now, obviously, but at some point in the near future.
He shares her interest in politics of that magnitude, at least, and if they are well suited anywhere, it's in that. Not for lack of understanding - and despite the bored note in Rey's tone, Kylo suspects that she understands more than she might be aware of - but because the direction that they are standing is of an entirely different set of coordinates from everyone else's. What he does not share is her interest in her friends, but Kylo supposes that's part of what being a unit in this capacity involves, and he manages not to sound too uninterested in the topic despite his much more candid interest in her hand closing around the fractured kyber crystal. ) Between the three of them, they're certainly capable. I would even be willing to admit that they're efficient, although don't repeat it to them. I don't think there are many fainting lounges on this planet.
( In lieu of a more helpful or concerned response, Kylo turns his face toward the rounded rise of her shoulder and presses the closed line of his mouth to it, the rough scrape of linen warm and earthy-smelling underneath his nose as he studies where her fingers enclose around his saber. He lifts his chin half a beat later and tests the material of her hemline between his thumb and forefinger as he asks - ) Have you given any thought or discussion to building your own? Not now, obviously, but at some point in the near future.
oh my god debbie reynolds is gone now too DID 2016 TAKE THE END OF THE YEAR AS A CHALLENGE
forcevisions
2016-12-29 02:11 am (UTC)(link)
[ The comforting contact of his lips to her shoulder draws a sigh out of her, one that finally relinquishes her hold on the tense situation up above that they have no part in. She'd have been lying to claim that it had not occurred to her to take the Falcon up and see what was going on herself, even after Luke had lifted off in the grounded x-wing. Respect kept her feet on terra firma, and Kylo Ren reaffirmed the choice with his passive, albeit belabored, faith.
She tipped her head against the top of his, and the hem of her shirt gave way underneath the outer wrap of her training robes. Skin-to-skin contact warmed her, and she opened her hand to stare at the kyber crystal as though it held the answer. ]
That presumes that my training comes to an end in the near future. [ Reluctantly, she explains, ] Luke doesn't think I'm ready.
[ Not only does she doubt it's an unfamiliar tale to him, but she further doubts that their intent to come forth with the ways in which they've been passing their time together will make Luke any more likely to graduate her as a true Jedi. She set the cracked crystal back on the desktop and unclipped her own saber to stack it up beside it. ]
"This saber has been wielded by many great Jedi before you," he says. [ She puts on an air of his voice that is both sage and somewhat inflated. ] "It is an honor to wield it."
She tipped her head against the top of his, and the hem of her shirt gave way underneath the outer wrap of her training robes. Skin-to-skin contact warmed her, and she opened her hand to stare at the kyber crystal as though it held the answer. ]
That presumes that my training comes to an end in the near future. [ Reluctantly, she explains, ] Luke doesn't think I'm ready.
[ Not only does she doubt it's an unfamiliar tale to him, but she further doubts that their intent to come forth with the ways in which they've been passing their time together will make Luke any more likely to graduate her as a true Jedi. She set the cracked crystal back on the desktop and unclipped her own saber to stack it up beside it. ]
"This saber has been wielded by many great Jedi before you," he says. [ She puts on an air of his voice that is both sage and somewhat inflated. ] "It is an honor to wield it."
Page 18 of 19