Monthly Catch-all

[warfares]

WHO: Kylo Ren and you!
WHERE: New Amsterdam
WHEN: July 1st – July 10th
WHAT: Taking advantage of his newfound freedom, Kylo Ren decides to poke at some tentacle monsters and drink hot chocolate. More or less in that order.
NOTES OR WARNINGS: Disturbing content, primarily: blood, gore, tentacles and the amputation thereof. Violence may come up, depending. Will add warnings as needed.

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( 0 0 1 ) » SAFE-HOUSE

[ It's late – or perhaps it's early, when Kylo Ren slips from his cot and pulls on first his borrowed clothing and then his boots.

He heads directly for the hatch.

Climbing the ladder takes far longer than he'd like; before New Amsterdam, bruised ribs would be a fleeting inconvenience. Fuel to drive him forward, if necessary; easily healed, if not. He had followed Clarke's instructions as best he could but shied from doing more than that.

Above, there's a pack stashed and waiting. He collects it quickly, checking its over its contents and before pulling it onto his shoulder. He has a rough idea of where he's headed. With any luck he won't be gone for a few hours. Hardly long enough to miss. ]


( 0 0 2 ) » SAMPLE GATHERING ( cw: eventual blood, gore )

[ He finds what he's looking for several blocks away: two crab carcasses – the smallest little more than a bloodied pulp, scattered across an alleyway. Even the most desperate scavengers seem to have given them a wide berth. 

Good. 

He sets down his pack and pulls on a pair of surgical gloves. There's a more than good chance that he'd waited too long, that there's no venom left to risk, but he's not taking any chances. Even without the venom there'll be something to salvage, to use, to trade.  And while buying goodwill is still a largely foreign concept he is willing to learn, if necessary. To play along for the moment as long as it gets him answers. ]


( 0 0 3 ) » SKY PARK

[ Later that week, the city begins its mourning in earnest.

Ren slips through the crowds like a scalefish, hood raised and eyes keen. He buys a hot chocolate from one of the many street vendors – lured in by the promise of something not containing insects for a change – and sips at it intermittently as he wanders.

Eventually, he finds himself in one of the city's sky parks: a lush, green place that is untouched by the grief of the city below. He thinks, absurdly, of Chandrila. The home he'd given up alongside his name. He remembers being lead through a park much like this, years ago, his small fingers tucked into his father's calloused palm. He shakes his head, as if to dislodge the memory, then murmurs – perhaps to himself, perhaps to anyone nearby: ]  I don't recognize half of these plants.


( 0 0 4 ) » WILDCARD
 
[ feel free to pm me or hit me up at resurrectionist for plotting! ]

Comments

[forcevisions]

What does that have to do with us?

[ It's less abrasive than her other questions have been, searching. In their present position, it would be in bad faith to turn down any leads. But she doesn't see the link, and the cordoned off site of the large creature seems to imply that the UNA would be doing its own research into that for the people.

She'd assumed he would endorse the UNA's apparent militant control. They're not quite as soulless as the First Order's brainwashed army of stormtroopers, but surely he can see the similarities. Instead he's pushing himself into it. But then, he had torn Snoke down to. It's helping her orient her understanding of that choice. It's not that he likes the control of such an empire abstractly, but that he wants to possess it himself.

It makes sense. She could empathize with the need for control, certainly. It helps make sense of a chaotic universe. That doesn't make it right. ]

[warfares]

The timing of the attack didn't strike you as suspicious?

[ It's a reach, perhaps — likely, even; except that there had been no protocols in place for the attack, suggesting that it had been the first time they had fended off such an attack.

the subsequent media blackout only really supported this. The city had been caught off-guard, it's police and military shamed. And someone, somewhere, possessed the means to pull people from alternate worlds and points in time.

So, it might well be a reach but it was a reach worth pursuing. And perhaps the knowledge might be worth something to someone.

As to the matter of his personal politics — well. She would believe whatever she chose to on that score; the slight on his honor stung more than her suspicion had, though just barely. ]

[forcevisions]

[ There it is. Understanding ripples through her expression. ]

You think it came from outside their galaxy, like we did.

[ While they can't know how they'd appeared, the fact that it had appeared suddenly and mysteriously certainly seemed a coincidence, now that he pointed it out. ]

Who are you going to bring the samples to? Clarke?

[warfares]

[ A soft hum of agreement.

The alternative is that it had been grown here, somewhere, and released deliberately — though the question then became: to what end? ] Maybe.

[ The journey back to the junction doesn't take long. Ren doesn't return the knife to his pack but instead keeps it tucked away discreetly. ]

I haven't decided yet.

[forcevisions]

[ Well, Rey has. About one thing, at least — ]

I'm coming with you.

[ It's a start. Any lead is better than none. ]

[warfares]

To what end? [ he asks, fingers sliding along the strap of his pack. And it's not because he's surprised that she wants to join him (she has made her suspicions clear, now; he's on notice) but because he'll not have her loitering, costing them time and disrupting his focus.

Now she can be the one that explains herself. ]

[forcevisions]

To help.

[ Her motives are lightyears more straightforward than his. He has made a solid point about the utility of such an endeavor, and now she's on board. The end. ]

[warfares]

Do you know how?

[ He's turning as he asks it, starting back the way that they came. A quick glance skyward — the sky is a blur of lilac and indigo with pink-gold creeping in at the edges — and then his attention moves back to the alley.

The safe-house is situated in a quiet part of town but that doesn't mean that it's wholly absent of life. Right now it's mostly vagrants, those that have wandered too far or never made it to any of the impromptu shelters. The forgotten. ]

[forcevisions]

Do I know have to scavenge parts off something dead and broken?

[ Bone dry. Jakku desert dry. She's insulted him worse, though. ]

Yeah. I've had some experience. [ More seriously, ] I've eaten worse.

[warfares]

[ Stripping a carcass feels like it should be different in some way — messier, certainly, the kind of thing that might stir up an uneasy sickness in the stomach of the unprepared — but perhaps he's wrong. Perhaps it is as simple as stripping a ship of its usable parts, polishing them and then selling them off to the most interested (or generous) party. ]

So have I. [ he adds absently, though it's been six years, give or take, since he had to hunt for his own food. Skills that might well have gone to rust in that time. ]

Though I doubt any of this meat will be edible.

[forcevisions]

[ Confusion flits through her expression. Not Ben Solo, silver spoon in his mouth, child of Rebellion heroes. What purpose could he have for scavenging food from the carcasses of whatever was around in the wild? But he hadn't, of course. It sinks in just as her mouth opens, a sound in the back of her throat aborted before it comes to fruition. It is not Ben Solo, child of Han and Leia, but Ben Solo student to Luke who has hunted.

Of course he had. She'd seen Luke on the island, busying himself with survival skills. At the time she'd fancied that it had made them similar in some way. ]

Right. [ She wouldn't have let it sitting out have stopped her, necessarily, in more desperate times. But there is food at Morningstar's safehouse. She does not need to reach for rotten meat. (She has done it before. Definitions of 'edible' change with circumstances.) ] Eating it's not the point, so that's fine.

[warfares]

I mean — [ he shoots her a look over his shoulder, catching that shiver of emotion that starts in confusion and ends in realization. He feels gratified in having surprised her. ] that the meat is probably toxic.

Not that it will stop others from trying. [ Starvation tended to rob you of the luxury of being squeamish. And after a lifetime diet of insects ㅡ assuming they even had that much ㅡ any meat was bound to look tempting.

It means they must move quickly, though. Against time, against the desperate. Fortunately, they don't have much further to travel. ]

[forcevisions]

What makes you think that?

[ Toxic is different than rancid. There had been venomous things living on Jakku, too, but they weren't poisonous. If you ate around the parts which held the venom … But it's different, apparently, and she has the good sense to assume he wouldn't leap to that conclusion without reason. ]

[warfares]

One of the crabs caught me on the way back to the safe-house. [ He rolls up a sleeve, exposes, reluctantly, the bracelet of raised skin encircling a wrist. The same wrist she'd caught earlier when she'd reached for him. ]

I spent the night on the supermarket floor.

[forcevisions]

[ She hadn't seen it then. The abrasion. She reaches towards him again, but stops shy. They're not like that anymore. She doesn't know what they're like, or what they mean to one another like this. It's a haphazard struggle in figuring out the answer to that question which they engage in here.

They are not enemies, surely, for Clarke had put it best in suggesting they are all on the same side, those who were abducted. Kylo has even joined Morningstar. But she cannot rely on him beyond that, and she therefore cannot bring herself to trust him with her feelings, as she had once extended to him. He has expressed no remorse or change of heart. Only a latent and unproductive grudge.

Beyond that, they are without the Force. Their connection to one another had always relied upon it. ]

You didn't tell me.

[ She'd asked after him. He'd left that out. She's not sour, exactly, but — She'd asked. ]

[warfares]

I didn't need your pity.

[ Simple, matter-of-fact; he's already fallen so far, so quickly, but he still has his pride. It's his pride more than it's his anger that kept him from telling her, because he knows what she would have said, how she would have reacted.

With pity.

He pulls in a breath, settling himself as he tugs the sleeve back down. ] And I survived. [ said to the tune of and that's what matters. Because it's the truth, because he had survived and would continue to do so ㅡ with or without the Force. ]

[forcevisions]

[ It summons up an uncomfortable question: did he call it pity, what he had given her in that hut on Ahch-to that night? No. She'd felt it. He'd needed that connection to. But here they both shy away from touching one another again, risking more of it even though she'd ached for it since the Force was denied her.

But she cannot help the way her expression hardens to separate herself from the accusation that she would only grant him pity. ]

I don't pity you, Ben.

[ In general. As a rule. He has officially made himself the agent of his own fate with no one else to blame. Whatever else happens is on him. He isn't deserving of pity, for he's done it to himself. ]

[warfares]

No?

[ It's out of his mouth before he can think to stop it, to rein it in and push it down. There's a challenge in it, perhaps. She'd let him live after their fight but had severed the bond, slamming both the literal and the metaphoric door in his face. Now she was asking after his health, sounding indignant that he would keep things from her.

He turns before she can answer, continues walking. ]

[forcevisions]

[ The flare of irritation is its own answer, and his challenge only serves to force her to double down. No, she does not pity him, and if he is so warped as to view anyone caring about him as mere pity, then no wonder he —

Such resentment is pointless in their present circumstances. She lets go of it with a force exhale and stomps off after him, but she doesn't summon the topic back or address his challenge. It's not worth it. She can't persuade him if he's going to be in a snit.

It's not long before they come upon one of the crabs' carcasses. She cannot rightfully call it a creature anymore, for it does not even twitch with the hints of life. She nudges a tentacle with her foot. ]

One of these almost got me and Mei. [ She'd been pinned under a restaurant kitchen's table, trying to ignite an explosion to blast it away. ] We got trapped in a freezer. [ She crouches next to it, but doesn't poke at it yet. She has nothing to rightfully poke with that won't risk exposing her to the aforementioned poison. ] I didn't know it was poisonous.

[warfares]

[ The pack slides from his shoulders. Mei, he presumes, is the name of one of her strays; he hasn't done the rounds of the safe-house yet, hasn't really got to know anyone beyond the people that have placed themselves in his way. ]

Only the one? [ There's nothing about his tone that suggests that this would in any way diminish the threat ㅡ he would know, after all ㅡ only that he was trying to understand what must have happened, to build a better picture. ]

There were three when I was attacked. [ He bends to inspect the contents of the pack, removing a pair of surgical gloves. ] Two were killed, the third was driven off. [ It had been smaller than the others, thinking about it now. Faster. An adolescent, perhaps? Not fully formed. Or could it have been something new entirely. ]

[forcevisions]

[ He doesn't mean it to be an insult. It is anyway. She looks up at him, gaze narrow. She'd been unarmed, she wants to say, but there's no point to defending herself against his efforts to discern the creatures' behavior patterns. ]

'Were killed'? [ Rey offers dryly. ] You mean you killed them.

[ She surveys his gloves set-up with some realization that, oh, he's actually prepared for this and now she's just along for the ride. ]

[warfares]

I killed one of them. [ He corrects her, not adding that even then it had been more luck and instinctive reflex that had kept him alive. ] There was a girl ㅡ white hair, green eyes, a ㅡ [ he indicates his face, ] scar on her face. She took care of the second.

[ There's a snap of latex as he pulls on first one glove and then the other. ] She reminded me of you.

[forcevisions]

[ Something in her chafes against the declaration. As though she needs to scramble to hold onto something which belongs to her. It claws its way up her throat. It's foolish, of course. Jealous and base and needy, but it is in her nature to cling to every connection she makes. ]

How's that?

[ She knows the answer, she thinks. She had noticed it too when she'd met Ciri, knows immediately who she means, felt kindred to her. Still she wants to hear Ben's assessment. And, well, she's at a loss for tools to do anything with this creature, she realizes, so better that she interrogate his observation than draw attention to her uselessness here. ]

[warfares]

Fearless.

[ He says it the same way one might say "foolish". The two are not mutually exclusive. ]

There is a second pair in the pack. [ He hadn't planned for company, of course, had intended to look for another carcass after the first ㅡ one of the snakes, perhaps ㅡ but she's here. She might as well be of use. ]

[forcevisions]

[ He manages to make a compliment sound like an insult. It doesn't satisfy, as a result. Her jealous remains inky and unsure in her gut, and she is left to accept his offer or stand pointless and idle. She goes for his pack and rifles through for the other pair of gloves, sparing a glance at whatever else he has contained in there before she starts tugging them on. ]

What makes you think these will stave off the poison? [ She decides to poke holes in his strategy instead. ]