( The solid blue beam is a sharp contrast to his, which still jumps and crackles at the edges despite the repairs. He's kept the quillons, even if the blade overall is more stable than it used to be following the attention he's given it while completing his training, remembering the smell of FN-2187's skin fusing with the soft leather of his jacket as the lateral vents allowed discharges of pure plasma to burn him. It's the crossguard that catches the angle of her lightsaber as he twists to avoid being sliced from coccyx to cervical vertebrae just in time, one arm crossed over his body at an angle that catches the weight of her strike but just barely. Padded armor and fraying fabric catch the blast radius of her blade and the smell of burning leather cuts the air between them as he feels the first careful sting of a burn across the back of his knuckles. The inertia of her movements and gravity work together to bring his blade to the floor, melting metal like paper, but he's ready with his free hand close to his chest, a verifiable wind up as he pushes back at her with a blow to get her off of him, setting her back a few paces and allowing him room to right himself, a dark thing rising to shake earth and dust from its shoulders as it wakes. )
We're just getting started.
( Pain drives him. Underneath the armor, behind the wall of the mask, he manages to sound amused, despite the dryness of his throat. Several paces away from her now - hardly out of reach by Force standards - Kylo has room to spin the hilt of his blade in his grip, a slow blur of red that issues a challenge. He favors flourish and flare, even when he isn't toying with an opponent, but he can already tell and is loathe to admit that she is the better swordsman of the two of them, from a certain point of view. The disadvantage of training with someone as powerful and wise as the Supreme Leader is suffering in combat training. He's always been skilled with a lightsaber, but Rey has the advantage of having studied with someone interested in rounding out her education and making her a warrior as opposed to having a master who knows that he is all powerful without the use of a blade. Kylo's skills have been improved and polished since the last time that he clashed with the girl across from him, as Snoke recognizes his use as an agent in the field, but just from the way that she holds herself, he can tell that, at this stage, relying on his swordsmanship alone would put him at a disadvantage.
It makes the task of anticipating what form she favors or what she's learned that much more difficult without opening the channel between them, but he's not interested in cataloging his own movements so easily for her in return for a bit of information. He's not interested in sacrifice. Or pulling his punches.
So he lashes out at her with a blunt punch to the gut through the Force, hoping to knock her off of her feet as he sprints the distance between them and crosses his blade in a heavy arc around him that brings it up and down and around in a blur, making it a difficult thing to predict where it's going to land. She'll be ready to meet him with the parry, Kylo knows, but he throws the full weight of his malice and adrenaline and the necessity of survival behind it. He can beat her. He knows he can beat her. He has to beat her. )
You've gotten sharp. ( Kylo somehow manages to make the compliment sound backhanded, as though he's offended and charmed by her progress all at once. He has to shout it over the loud roar of the battle that's burning down Corellia, and Rey glances his advancing strike off as he prepares himself for another offensive onslaught, squaring his shoulders even as he leans forward into his stance, holding his blade at an angle to the ground,. ) Or maybe it's arrogance.
this is the best thing to wake up to never apologize /heart eyes
We're just getting started.
( Pain drives him. Underneath the armor, behind the wall of the mask, he manages to sound amused, despite the dryness of his throat. Several paces away from her now - hardly out of reach by Force standards - Kylo has room to spin the hilt of his blade in his grip, a slow blur of red that issues a challenge. He favors flourish and flare, even when he isn't toying with an opponent, but he can already tell and is loathe to admit that she is the better swordsman of the two of them, from a certain point of view. The disadvantage of training with someone as powerful and wise as the Supreme Leader is suffering in combat training. He's always been skilled with a lightsaber, but Rey has the advantage of having studied with someone interested in rounding out her education and making her a warrior as opposed to having a master who knows that he is all powerful without the use of a blade. Kylo's skills have been improved and polished since the last time that he clashed with the girl across from him, as Snoke recognizes his use as an agent in the field, but just from the way that she holds herself, he can tell that, at this stage, relying on his swordsmanship alone would put him at a disadvantage.
It makes the task of anticipating what form she favors or what she's learned that much more difficult without opening the channel between them, but he's not interested in cataloging his own movements so easily for her in return for a bit of information. He's not interested in sacrifice. Or pulling his punches.
So he lashes out at her with a blunt punch to the gut through the Force, hoping to knock her off of her feet as he sprints the distance between them and crosses his blade in a heavy arc around him that brings it up and down and around in a blur, making it a difficult thing to predict where it's going to land. She'll be ready to meet him with the parry, Kylo knows, but he throws the full weight of his malice and adrenaline and the necessity of survival behind it. He can beat her. He knows he can beat her. He has to beat her. )
You've gotten sharp. ( Kylo somehow manages to make the compliment sound backhanded, as though he's offended and charmed by her progress all at once. He has to shout it over the loud roar of the battle that's burning down Corellia, and Rey glances his advancing strike off as he prepares himself for another offensive onslaught, squaring his shoulders even as he leans forward into his stance, holding his blade at an angle to the ground,. ) Or maybe it's arrogance.