( It's hard to miss anything when she's so firmly rooted there, and he catches the intention behind her reaction as much as he hears it transposing from her mind to his. He places his lightsaber on the low table in front of him, and the quillons catch the light from the lamp, reflect a dull, amber glow up at the ceiling. )
I might have been able to if you weren't making such a fuss.
( Space swallows the world beyond the glass paneling of the common area's window, star systems winking in and out of life, and he approaches the viewport with a somewhat distorted sense of reality as the universe stretches infinitely out in front of him, a distortion that he's more than happy to let bleed through the bond as if to bolster the accusation that he levels at her. The cabinet next to the window comes open under his touch, and he opens one drawer and then the other to retrieve a small set of tools not unlike lock picks, tucked inside a pouch. The black leather is soft under his hands as he carries it back across the threshold and takes a seat in a chair next to the lamp. His saber returns to him when beckoned, and Kylo begins the careful process of dismantling his blade so that he can clean the plasma emitters and rework a bit of wiring.
He has never been particularly skilled at taking things apart and putting them back together in this manner. Snoke had informed him of this after seeing the lightsaber that Kylo had constructed, but he hadn't needed to be told that by his master to know that it was true. The blade still vibrated wildly with energy every time he tripped the ignition switch, but it wasn't a characteristic that he disliked despite making it a more difficult weapon to control. With no intention of altering the design at least until his training is well on its way to completion, he works open the handgrip with a sharp jab under the metal to lift the face and expose the wiring underneath. Metal clinks against metal and is the only sound to fill the room, save for their breathing: his in reality and hers somewhere in between. )
no subject
I might have been able to if you weren't making such a fuss.
( Space swallows the world beyond the glass paneling of the common area's window, star systems winking in and out of life, and he approaches the viewport with a somewhat distorted sense of reality as the universe stretches infinitely out in front of him, a distortion that he's more than happy to let bleed through the bond as if to bolster the accusation that he levels at her. The cabinet next to the window comes open under his touch, and he opens one drawer and then the other to retrieve a small set of tools not unlike lock picks, tucked inside a pouch. The black leather is soft under his hands as he carries it back across the threshold and takes a seat in a chair next to the lamp. His saber returns to him when beckoned, and Kylo begins the careful process of dismantling his blade so that he can clean the plasma emitters and rework a bit of wiring.
He has never been particularly skilled at taking things apart and putting them back together in this manner. Snoke had informed him of this after seeing the lightsaber that Kylo had constructed, but he hadn't needed to be told that by his master to know that it was true. The blade still vibrated wildly with energy every time he tripped the ignition switch, but it wasn't a characteristic that he disliked despite making it a more difficult weapon to control. With no intention of altering the design at least until his training is well on its way to completion, he works open the handgrip with a sharp jab under the metal to lift the face and expose the wiring underneath. Metal clinks against metal and is the only sound to fill the room, save for their breathing: his in reality and hers somewhere in between. )
I'll hazard a guess. Nightmare.