( While she searches one of the many cargo canisters that fill the ship, Kylo rummages around in the cabinets that he has just produced the nutrient bar from, sticking his head into one and glancing the length of the others before bending to check the lower compartments. He doesn't turn around until he hears the scrape of tin over the metal of the floor and turns in time to catch the kit coming his way with the arch of his foot, trapping it between boot and flooring. Snatching it up, he sits down on one of the cargo canisters low enough to the ground that he can stack his knees at right angles but high enough that his feet don't crowd over themselves the way that they do sometimes, a poor bad habit maintained from youth as a result of being too tall to fit in most chairs. )
It'll do. ( Kylo makes short work of the lid, popping it open and fishing out some ointment specifically designed to treat burns and a few long strips of gauze with tape. There are bacta patches nestled inside, but he's loathe to use them in the event they really need them or in case they've expired. He's unraveling a long spool of yellowed gauze when Rey speaks again, and Kylo looks over at her from under the heavy weight of his brow, snorting without mirth. ) I thought we'd come to the conclusion that meditation was not my forte when training as a Jedi.
( There's latent resentment in his tone but no real bite or sting. An old wound, scar tissue made fresh when in the right company. Strangely, he feels he can talk openly with Rey in this way without the deep black well inside of him opening up the way that it does when he's spoken to Skywalker or Organa. He doesn't waste time contemplating why but elaborates somewhat further in ways that are more current and true to who he's become. )
Pain is instructive. ( Gauze unwinds, and before beginning to wrap his hands, Kylo smears a little of the blue-white ointment onto his skin and makes a face as the skin sizzles and burns. No wince twisted with pain, just a passing acknowledgment of something unpleasant. ) It shows you where there's a weakness and how it might be exploited. You either correct the weakness or suffer the resulting consequences.
no subject
It'll do. ( Kylo makes short work of the lid, popping it open and fishing out some ointment specifically designed to treat burns and a few long strips of gauze with tape. There are bacta patches nestled inside, but he's loathe to use them in the event they really need them or in case they've expired. He's unraveling a long spool of yellowed gauze when Rey speaks again, and Kylo looks over at her from under the heavy weight of his brow, snorting without mirth. ) I thought we'd come to the conclusion that meditation was not my forte when training as a Jedi.
( There's latent resentment in his tone but no real bite or sting. An old wound, scar tissue made fresh when in the right company. Strangely, he feels he can talk openly with Rey in this way without the deep black well inside of him opening up the way that it does when he's spoken to Skywalker or Organa. He doesn't waste time contemplating why but elaborates somewhat further in ways that are more current and true to who he's become. )
Pain is instructive. ( Gauze unwinds, and before beginning to wrap his hands, Kylo smears a little of the blue-white ointment onto his skin and makes a face as the skin sizzles and burns. No wince twisted with pain, just a passing acknowledgment of something unpleasant. ) It shows you where there's a weakness and how it might be exploited. You either correct the weakness or suffer the resulting consequences.