[ Have a sneer to go with that comment, although it does lack something of its usual brand of scorn. It is difficult to take the knight altogether too seriously in his current state, intimidating though he might be. But, he does not like that smile - there's a venemous quality to is and he wants to recoil, as if by some prehistoric impulse that warns him of danger. Technically, Ren is a predator; he is quite capable of snapping any one of their necks, even in his current condition. But, the impulse passes as quickly as it became present, and he watches the other man spit, half-expecting it to be bloodied.
What a thing it is, to watch Kylo Ren attempt to pull himself together.
The man is comprised of such a sheer force of will that Hux finds that the room crackles with it. Naturally, the stubborn creature does not accept the offer of the stretcher, he ought to have guessed that any attempts at assistance would be shaken off with the arrogance of a sulky teenager. Hux's mouth draws into a thin line; there will, he thinks, come a day in the future where he will spend the entirety of it not exasperated at Kylo Ren. That day, however, seems to grow more and more distant. All he needs now, is for the idiot to do something irreparable to himself, to bleed out in his priggishness, his reluctance to user a stretcher after being shot six ways to Sunday. The floor of the hanger is a mess of blood. Half of it is on Hux himself already, so he grimly steps forward to clamp a hand around Ren's upper arm when he rights himself (if listing dangerously to the left counts as such), supporting a small amount of the other's weight.
Hux watches him cautiously, a beat passing before he speaks. ] No word, not yet.
[ Hux chooses to avoid replying to the comment about the helmet. Whatever happened on Starkiller base will, undoubtedly, remain exclusive to Kylo. He does not doubt that the man will deliver some garbled account when he is forced to make his report, but he is aware that it will be a far step from the truth.
The troops leave, and there is a twitch of irritation in the general's jaw, but he remains silent.
Then, clearing his throat, still keeping a hold of the apprentice's arm in order to ensure that the man does not topple over onto the floor (which, he thinks, is a distinct possibility right now). Hux attempts to sound unphased, as well as commanding: ] Seeing as you've dismissed the medics, I'll be escorting you to the medbay myself.
so slow over here, sorry!
[ Have a sneer to go with that comment, although it does lack something of its usual brand of scorn. It is difficult to take the knight altogether too seriously in his current state, intimidating though he might be. But, he does not like that smile - there's a venemous quality to is and he wants to recoil, as if by some prehistoric impulse that warns him of danger. Technically, Ren is a predator; he is quite capable of snapping any one of their necks, even in his current condition. But, the impulse passes as quickly as it became present, and he watches the other man spit, half-expecting it to be bloodied.
What a thing it is, to watch Kylo Ren attempt to pull himself together.
The man is comprised of such a sheer force of will that Hux finds that the room crackles with it. Naturally, the stubborn creature does not accept the offer of the stretcher, he ought to have guessed that any attempts at assistance would be shaken off with the arrogance of a sulky teenager. Hux's mouth draws into a thin line; there will, he thinks, come a day in the future where he will spend the entirety of it not exasperated at Kylo Ren. That day, however, seems to grow more and more distant. All he needs now, is for the idiot to do something irreparable to himself, to bleed out in his priggishness, his reluctance to user a stretcher after being shot six ways to Sunday. The floor of the hanger is a mess of blood. Half of it is on Hux himself already, so he grimly steps forward to clamp a hand around Ren's upper arm when he rights himself (if listing dangerously to the left counts as such), supporting a small amount of the other's weight.
Hux watches him cautiously, a beat passing before he speaks. ] No word, not yet.
[ Hux chooses to avoid replying to the comment about the helmet. Whatever happened on Starkiller base will, undoubtedly, remain exclusive to Kylo. He does not doubt that the man will deliver some garbled account when he is forced to make his report, but he is aware that it will be a far step from the truth.
The troops leave, and there is a twitch of irritation in the general's jaw, but he remains silent.
Then, clearing his throat, still keeping a hold of the apprentice's arm in order to ensure that the man does not topple over onto the floor (which, he thinks, is a distinct possibility right now). Hux attempts to sound unphased, as well as commanding: ] Seeing as you've dismissed the medics, I'll be escorting you to the medbay myself.