( Kylo isn't immediately sure whether or not her words serve a dual purpose, whether she's speaking to the gaping wound in his own flank where family is concerned or just imparting something personal with no intent to find a mark. He recognizes that he isn't actually the center of the galaxy and that not everything revolves around him and his ongoing drama with his family, but it's hard not to draw comparisons. He'd told her once before that they were two halves of the same coin, and the more Kylo learns the more he believes that to be a platitude that was true in every way that he'd meant it.
In that way, he doesn't feel remorse for what he'd done to Han Solo - a complicated weaving of sentiment that he still has not had time or opportunity to consider - but he can understand the despair that it had caused her and why, even if he doesn't agree with her choice in father figures. She's right though: being angry with ghosts doesn't change what's happened. Although he can say that he isn't angry with Han Solo's memory as much as he is distressed by it, by what it means, by what it brings forth in him when there should be a black, swirling void of absolute power rather than the churning nausea of sick guilt and sadness. )
Why wouldn't you believe they were coming back for you? ( His voice is quiet in the main hold, easily swallowed up by the hum and buzz and creaking and groaning of the bulk of the ship around them, but Kylo knows that she can hear him. It's a rhetorical question, and revealing in its own right, though given their inability to see eye-to-eye on the state of his parentage, he doesn't expect her to sympathize outright, even if she elsewhere. ) You were a child. Children always think that their parents will come back and save them, regardless of whether or not it inspires anger that fades or anger that lingers.
( If Rey feels cramped and trapped in the main hold, Kylo feels it just as much, having wandered down an avenue of conversation that has only a dead end should they choose to keep walking it. He crosses his arms and inclines his head toward the old board nestled into the corner of the hold. )
no subject
In that way, he doesn't feel remorse for what he'd done to Han Solo - a complicated weaving of sentiment that he still has not had time or opportunity to consider - but he can understand the despair that it had caused her and why, even if he doesn't agree with her choice in father figures. She's right though: being angry with ghosts doesn't change what's happened. Although he can say that he isn't angry with Han Solo's memory as much as he is distressed by it, by what it means, by what it brings forth in him when there should be a black, swirling void of absolute power rather than the churning nausea of sick guilt and sadness. )
Why wouldn't you believe they were coming back for you? ( His voice is quiet in the main hold, easily swallowed up by the hum and buzz and creaking and groaning of the bulk of the ship around them, but Kylo knows that she can hear him. It's a rhetorical question, and revealing in its own right, though given their inability to see eye-to-eye on the state of his parentage, he doesn't expect her to sympathize outright, even if she elsewhere. ) You were a child. Children always think that their parents will come back and save them, regardless of whether or not it inspires anger that fades or anger that lingers.
( If Rey feels cramped and trapped in the main hold, Kylo feels it just as much, having wandered down an avenue of conversation that has only a dead end should they choose to keep walking it. He crosses his arms and inclines his head toward the old board nestled into the corner of the hold. )
Do you know how to play Dejarik?