( It's the automatic sound of her voice that draws his attention even as it turns him away, making a valiant effort to focus on the rise and fall of his hands as they claw through dirt and expose a harder underbelly not nearly as easily broken as the surface. Whether she tries to comprehend his relationship with his fellow Knights or not, it makes no difference to him: Kylo has been just as much divorced from their regime as he ever was a part of it, setting himself above and beside the names and faces who operate underneath him, who serve him. Not relegated to the position that Hux has fallen to within Kylo's mind yet operating outside of that hierarchy in some way, as they dig deep and dark into the widening evening, he does struggle to find some way of describing even to himself what the Knights of Ren have been to one another in the time that he has been a part of them.
When he was younger, still new to the world in which he had immersed himself, they seemed to cut an imposing figure to even someone of his breadth and height, but where most might shirk at such a looming collective, Kylo had only ever seen it as a challenge, their respect something to be earned through force if necessary and through command if the former seemed imprudent. Ji had followed him without question, without hesitation, though she might yet still be the most difficult of them all to explain or categorize with a brief explanation. Kylo supposes that it doesn't matter now, and runs his hand over his thigh around the blast radius of the hole her blade had punctured in him, catching Rey's movement out of the corner of his eye and turning to face her fully for the first time in what feels like hours, as untrue as it might be. )
I'll get him. ( Offered more as something to fill the void that he had left wide and gaping rather than as any sort of indication of what he plans to do, Kylo gets to his feet and wipes his hands down the front and sides of his clothing, various bruises and contusions jumping to life under his fingertips now that the adrenaline has worn off in its entirety. Where before he felt swollen, an infection ready to bloom, he now feels hollow, depleted, washed away. It isn't something that he is overtly familiar with and once he has his hands on the charred remains of Aurren's boots, he chances a quick glance through their connection toward the girl who has dragged him through mud and rain and across star systems and through ice fields, and he wonders.
He can't maneuver Aurren into the hole without dislodging his torso, and while Kylo normally wouldn't care, he can't decide whether or not Rey might - and more, whether or not it should matter if she does. So he stands, favoring one side, and mirrors her act of wiping the sweat from his forehead, managing to slick some of his hair back away from his eyes in the process. Some lingering impression of curiosity burns across their connection like a far off flare, but he doesn't immediately sway to answering, beseeching her instead, after swallowing the lump of his pride like a stone that sinks in his stomach: ) Spare a hand?
and then i got pulled for jury duty this week so everything is a mess. I HOPE SCHOOL IS OVER
When he was younger, still new to the world in which he had immersed himself, they seemed to cut an imposing figure to even someone of his breadth and height, but where most might shirk at such a looming collective, Kylo had only ever seen it as a challenge, their respect something to be earned through force if necessary and through command if the former seemed imprudent. Ji had followed him without question, without hesitation, though she might yet still be the most difficult of them all to explain or categorize with a brief explanation. Kylo supposes that it doesn't matter now, and runs his hand over his thigh around the blast radius of the hole her blade had punctured in him, catching Rey's movement out of the corner of his eye and turning to face her fully for the first time in what feels like hours, as untrue as it might be. )
I'll get him. ( Offered more as something to fill the void that he had left wide and gaping rather than as any sort of indication of what he plans to do, Kylo gets to his feet and wipes his hands down the front and sides of his clothing, various bruises and contusions jumping to life under his fingertips now that the adrenaline has worn off in its entirety. Where before he felt swollen, an infection ready to bloom, he now feels hollow, depleted, washed away. It isn't something that he is overtly familiar with and once he has his hands on the charred remains of Aurren's boots, he chances a quick glance through their connection toward the girl who has dragged him through mud and rain and across star systems and through ice fields, and he wonders.
He can't maneuver Aurren into the hole without dislodging his torso, and while Kylo normally wouldn't care, he can't decide whether or not Rey might - and more, whether or not it should matter if she does. So he stands, favoring one side, and mirrors her act of wiping the sweat from his forehead, managing to slick some of his hair back away from his eyes in the process. Some lingering impression of curiosity burns across their connection like a far off flare, but he doesn't immediately sway to answering, beseeching her instead, after swallowing the lump of his pride like a stone that sinks in his stomach: ) Spare a hand?