( Though they aren't obvious to him and though he doesn't go looking for them this time, Rey's thoughts - or at least her thought process - is plainly evident on her face. From the crease that appears between knitted brows to the hard line of her mouth, crowded by dirt, Kylo can at least see that she's thinking about it. He finds himself uninterested in navigating her mind to search out her thoughts on his own merit, waiting instead to hear what she has to say for herself. Her answer does not disappoint him, although he does feel the sting of a layered insult in a way that leaves him cold.
He knows what she sees when she looks at him, never mind what she's experienced in peering inside his head. Monster. Creature. Kylo neither makes nor craves apologies for any of it. There are no illusions as to the kind of person that he is, and he prefers it that way, wanting to be perceived as the sort of man who would run his biological father through and toss him over a bridge without hesitation or remorse. No one - certainly not Rey - needs to know that it had felt like pulling hooked nails out of himself, that the last pieces of him that were still irrevocably Han Solo's son had dug their claws in so tightly and held on with such desperation when the sever was supposed to be clean-cut that it had felt like something was actively ripping apart inside of him. He'd hated it, still hates it. It's weakness. Sentimentality. Compassion. And there is no room for that in Snoke's court.
Gloved fingers reach out to separate several small pebbles from the dirt and tall stalks of grass that have bent under their activity and the weight of the falling rain. He actually thinks about his answer before replying to her, fully cognizant of the fact that the scenarios they have described for one another are actual events that are bound to occur. )
It wouldn't be my decision, in the end. ( That's the truth of it. She isn't wrong, of course: they are all of them trying to prove themselves to Snoke in some way. It's just that Kylo is trying to prove himself to more than just Snoke. ) It isn't as simple as you want to make it. The day you think that you're powerful enough to kill the Supreme Leader is the day you overestimate yourself and the day that he makes you realize it. ( Dark eyes move from the small collection of stones he has gathered back up to her face. ) He is wise beyond measure and powerful beyond your understanding. If and when you find yourself at his mercy, you'll kneel before him or he will make you kneel. There is no easy way out where he's concerned. He'll torture you. He'll persuade you. He'll show you all the ways that the path you have traveled this far down are wrong. ( The small stones he holds lift from his palm to hover a few centimeters; Kylo does not even look at them or seem to notice that they have done this. His attention stays on her. ) Maybe he'll convince you. And maybe he won't. Maybe you'll fight back. You certainly have the spirit. ( It doesn't sound like a compliment. ) You wouldn't be used as a way to prove myself to him. Not like that, at least. He would probably want to kill you himself, if you keep refusing to yield. But -
( His tone is cool with honesty, and he doesn't say any of it to be cruel. This is the reality of the world that she has submerged herself in, and while the idea of him offering her a swift and merciful death at his own hand is a nice one, the reality is that her demise in that scenario does not come quickly or mercifully. It is at the end of a long stretch of dark days, and Kylo can't see that far ahead of them to be able to offer a concrete answer on any of it. Just experience. Knowledge. What he's seen and felt during his time as Snoke's apprentice. What he thinks may be something different, but he shrouds his mind with a heavy cloak, keeping his thoughts to himself, hidden away should she try to probe him for deeper answers. Instead, he flicks his fingers and the pebbles go scattering, rolling down the hillside and cutting the high grass, and it's a moment before he answers her question directly, each word sounding as if it's being wrenched from someplace unwilling to let go. )
no subject
He knows what she sees when she looks at him, never mind what she's experienced in peering inside his head. Monster. Creature. Kylo neither makes nor craves apologies for any of it. There are no illusions as to the kind of person that he is, and he prefers it that way, wanting to be perceived as the sort of man who would run his biological father through and toss him over a bridge without hesitation or remorse. No one - certainly not Rey - needs to know that it had felt like pulling hooked nails out of himself, that the last pieces of him that were still irrevocably Han Solo's son had dug their claws in so tightly and held on with such desperation when the sever was supposed to be clean-cut that it had felt like something was actively ripping apart inside of him. He'd hated it, still hates it. It's weakness. Sentimentality. Compassion. And there is no room for that in Snoke's court.
Gloved fingers reach out to separate several small pebbles from the dirt and tall stalks of grass that have bent under their activity and the weight of the falling rain. He actually thinks about his answer before replying to her, fully cognizant of the fact that the scenarios they have described for one another are actual events that are bound to occur. )
It wouldn't be my decision, in the end. ( That's the truth of it. She isn't wrong, of course: they are all of them trying to prove themselves to Snoke in some way. It's just that Kylo is trying to prove himself to more than just Snoke. ) It isn't as simple as you want to make it. The day you think that you're powerful enough to kill the Supreme Leader is the day you overestimate yourself and the day that he makes you realize it. ( Dark eyes move from the small collection of stones he has gathered back up to her face. ) He is wise beyond measure and powerful beyond your understanding. If and when you find yourself at his mercy, you'll kneel before him or he will make you kneel. There is no easy way out where he's concerned. He'll torture you. He'll persuade you. He'll show you all the ways that the path you have traveled this far down are wrong. ( The small stones he holds lift from his palm to hover a few centimeters; Kylo does not even look at them or seem to notice that they have done this. His attention stays on her. ) Maybe he'll convince you. And maybe he won't. Maybe you'll fight back. You certainly have the spirit. ( It doesn't sound like a compliment. ) You wouldn't be used as a way to prove myself to him. Not like that, at least. He would probably want to kill you himself, if you keep refusing to yield. But -
( His tone is cool with honesty, and he doesn't say any of it to be cruel. This is the reality of the world that she has submerged herself in, and while the idea of him offering her a swift and merciful death at his own hand is a nice one, the reality is that her demise in that scenario does not come quickly or mercifully. It is at the end of a long stretch of dark days, and Kylo can't see that far ahead of them to be able to offer a concrete answer on any of it. Just experience. Knowledge. What he's seen and felt during his time as Snoke's apprentice. What he thinks may be something different, but he shrouds his mind with a heavy cloak, keeping his thoughts to himself, hidden away should she try to probe him for deeper answers. Instead, he flicks his fingers and the pebbles go scattering, rolling down the hillside and cutting the high grass, and it's a moment before he answers her question directly, each word sounding as if it's being wrenched from someplace unwilling to let go. )
I wouldn't draw it out.