[ Stinging numbness travels like an electrical impulse through her hand, leaving behind a bone-deep ache that throbs around her knuckles. Kylo Ren has the nerve to solicit her for justifications of the effects of his transference, and Rey clenches her fists to restrain her instinct to lash out and return the accusation. Her tongue finds the cut, worms against it, then forfeits its search.
The ever-present, pounding and anxious strain rippling out from Kylo’s mind leaves stains on her own, making it hard to determine what is her ill sentiment and what’s his—intellectually, she acknowledged the threat of precisely such a consequence when she endeavored to free him from the inexorable hold Snoke had over him, but to feel it interfering with something so important so acutely makes her less amenable. ]
How could I, through the interference you’re providing? [ But then, that’s not entirely true. The hesitant pulse of unease came before he woke, and though it would be easy to attribute it to his restlessness, that explanation left her cold with its insufficiency. Brown eyes track up to the sky to follow the approach of the shuttle, reaching out towards it with the Force to search the ship and the air around it for the source of the discomfort, but it seems harmless enough.
A second sweep finds the thorn.
Like a silken thread tethering the ship along its path to the ground, the twang of the swirling connection of energy sounds wrong, like an ill-tuned instrument. The fields of her mind open up and welcome Kylo Ren to the same view and perception she has, lifting away the thin cloak of dark that divides them and revealing the map of tendrils that infuse and guide every living being through the Force, but also the flight chief and the nearby ships that will help to guide him to her location.
Turning her attention, Rey searches the hangar for the source of the taint in the landing when the ship itself is harmless, and the cancerous taint spreads, thicker behind her, shrouding the Hapans. The flight chief standing near her passes orders to warriors who filter by, ordering them to prepare landing equipment, but not quarter. ]
They’re not going to help us. [ The realization is not truly spoken, not immediately for his benefit, but crashes in all at once as the inevitable synthesis of the stimuli that flood her as an indisputable fact. Leia Organa will not be welcomed here. With it comes dread—the longer Leia stays on this planet, the larger the yawning darkness at the edge of the Force will grow, the more danger she will be in. ]
It’s the planet. [ Not literally, perhaps—though she can’t be sure, if she’s honest—but in a significant enough majority that it seems to resonate with so many of its natives. ] We’re a disease and it’s trying to repel us: the longer we’re here, the more time the First Order has to track us here and drag Hapes into it.
Sameeeee
The ever-present, pounding and anxious strain rippling out from Kylo’s mind leaves stains on her own, making it hard to determine what is her ill sentiment and what’s his—intellectually, she acknowledged the threat of precisely such a consequence when she endeavored to free him from the inexorable hold Snoke had over him, but to feel it interfering with something so important so acutely makes her less amenable. ]
How could I, through the interference you’re providing? [ But then, that’s not entirely true. The hesitant pulse of unease came before he woke, and though it would be easy to attribute it to his restlessness, that explanation left her cold with its insufficiency. Brown eyes track up to the sky to follow the approach of the shuttle, reaching out towards it with the Force to search the ship and the air around it for the source of the discomfort, but it seems harmless enough.
A second sweep finds the thorn.
Like a silken thread tethering the ship along its path to the ground, the twang of the swirling connection of energy sounds wrong, like an ill-tuned instrument. The fields of her mind open up and welcome Kylo Ren to the same view and perception she has, lifting away the thin cloak of dark that divides them and revealing the map of tendrils that infuse and guide every living being through the Force, but also the flight chief and the nearby ships that will help to guide him to her location.
Turning her attention, Rey searches the hangar for the source of the taint in the landing when the ship itself is harmless, and the cancerous taint spreads, thicker behind her, shrouding the Hapans. The flight chief standing near her passes orders to warriors who filter by, ordering them to prepare landing equipment, but not quarter. ]
They’re not going to help us. [ The realization is not truly spoken, not immediately for his benefit, but crashes in all at once as the inevitable synthesis of the stimuli that flood her as an indisputable fact. Leia Organa will not be welcomed here. With it comes dread—the longer Leia stays on this planet, the larger the yawning darkness at the edge of the Force will grow, the more danger she will be in. ]
It’s the planet. [ Not literally, perhaps—though she can’t be sure, if she’s honest—but in a significant enough majority that it seems to resonate with so many of its natives. ] We’re a disease and it’s trying to repel us: the longer we’re here, the more time the First Order has to track us here and drag Hapes into it.