general armitage "wafer crisp" hux (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
exhuxperation) wrote2016-01-26 07:41 pm
exhuxperation) wrote2016-01-26 07:41 pm
xx. musebox
this is actually for donna
Edited (FYI this is a fifty shades of grey quote ) 2016-01-27 05:09 (UTC)
[ Something that goes unsaid in the upper brass is that it's solitary.
In a way, it's strange. To be around so many people and yet have only the barest connections to them. With them. Hux has never been a firm believer in needing anyone else, aside from those who could prove to be useful. If he thinks about it hard enough, perhaps it comes from his training, from his father, from a multitude of places. Maybe it's been there the whole time. But, he knows that this is what has set him apart from the rest, has allowed him to step over others or use them as a kick off point to launch his own career. To follow his own ambitions. Others show loyalty to certain people or places or things.
Hux shows loyalty to the First Order and then himself.
After all, no one else was going to cheer him on towards gaining a throne. They'd all much rather take his place or if desperate enough, slit his throat. It is for this precise reason that he will go out of his way to scrutinize the ranks. Granted, the Stormtroopers are his and Phasma's realm, while Kylo Ren fucks off and does whatever it is he's set on. However, Hux likes to keep notes of the exemplary troopers. Their numbers are never written down but memorized and any time he has an escort anywhere, he keeps at least one close at hand.
This could be called favoritism but he sees it as necessary. Survival of the fittest– something drilled into him from the time he could understand spoken word. Of course this leads him to leaning on certain individuals more than others. Lately, his focus has been pinned, laser honed on TX-701. Hux remembers his name before the wash, of course, but Poe Dameron is no longer. The only thing that remains of the rebel pilot is his body and his skill. Even then, with the regulation of helmets being required in most spaces, no one will really see or recognize him. This works out quite well.
Though there's been a small downside to acquiring the pilot. It seems as though Hux is not the only one with his eye on him. Something that would normally go unnoticed amongst all the troopers on board, but has not escaped his particularly watchful gaze. He's caught Kylo Ren with 701; not inappropriately, naturally. Ren could be obnoxious but Hux doubts he's that much of an idiot. There's just a little more personal attention, which sours his mood. Kylo Ren is not barred from making use of the Stormtrooper ranks, though Hux much prefers any orders to be sent through himself or Phasma.
The two directly in charge, normally. Because of this course, he's stalking off to see Ren, coat laying heavy on his shoulders. It just so happens to be his luck that he finds TX-701 before he reaches the Force user. Clearly, the Universe is in agreement with his wants, as it should be. ]
TX-701, a word, if you will.
In a way, it's strange. To be around so many people and yet have only the barest connections to them. With them. Hux has never been a firm believer in needing anyone else, aside from those who could prove to be useful. If he thinks about it hard enough, perhaps it comes from his training, from his father, from a multitude of places. Maybe it's been there the whole time. But, he knows that this is what has set him apart from the rest, has allowed him to step over others or use them as a kick off point to launch his own career. To follow his own ambitions. Others show loyalty to certain people or places or things.
Hux shows loyalty to the First Order and then himself.
After all, no one else was going to cheer him on towards gaining a throne. They'd all much rather take his place or if desperate enough, slit his throat. It is for this precise reason that he will go out of his way to scrutinize the ranks. Granted, the Stormtroopers are his and Phasma's realm, while Kylo Ren fucks off and does whatever it is he's set on. However, Hux likes to keep notes of the exemplary troopers. Their numbers are never written down but memorized and any time he has an escort anywhere, he keeps at least one close at hand.
This could be called favoritism but he sees it as necessary. Survival of the fittest– something drilled into him from the time he could understand spoken word. Of course this leads him to leaning on certain individuals more than others. Lately, his focus has been pinned, laser honed on TX-701. Hux remembers his name before the wash, of course, but Poe Dameron is no longer. The only thing that remains of the rebel pilot is his body and his skill. Even then, with the regulation of helmets being required in most spaces, no one will really see or recognize him. This works out quite well.
Though there's been a small downside to acquiring the pilot. It seems as though Hux is not the only one with his eye on him. Something that would normally go unnoticed amongst all the troopers on board, but has not escaped his particularly watchful gaze. He's caught Kylo Ren with 701; not inappropriately, naturally. Ren could be obnoxious but Hux doubts he's that much of an idiot. There's just a little more personal attention, which sours his mood. Kylo Ren is not barred from making use of the Stormtrooper ranks, though Hux much prefers any orders to be sent through himself or Phasma.
The two directly in charge, normally. Because of this course, he's stalking off to see Ren, coat laying heavy on his shoulders. It just so happens to be his luck that he finds TX-701 before he reaches the Force user. Clearly, the Universe is in agreement with his wants, as it should be. ]
TX-701, a word, if you will.
[Under his helmet, in his armor, TX-701 is almost indistinguishable from any other stormtrooper. In black he stands out from the shock troops, but among pilots he is different in only the smallest ways. Slightly short, for a trooper. Slightly less broad, although the carefully regulated program of diet and exercise was changing that. Slightly more isolated, because even a singular force like the first order army wasn't beyond favoritism or ostracism.
He was the subject of both. His skills were of particular note, as a pilot and as a gunner he was far and above. He had overcome every obstacle, excelled in every exam. That, perhaps, might have been reason enough for the attention he received from General Hux. It hardly explained the attention from Kylo Ren, however, who had very little time for Stormtroopers and far too much, in most estimates, for him. That, and the fact that he was new, that he had no stories to tell and made no attempt to fraternize made him unpopular with the others. Not aggressively, they weren't suicidal, but there was a certain distance they kept from him. He didn't have a nickname. No one clasped their hands at his back or told him jokes or compared kill counts with him.
If it bothered him, it didn't show. There was no weakness in his back, no hesitation in his stride as he strode down the echoing hall. Alone, again, but no less faultlessly loyal, no less obedient. The voice at his back is familiar- more than, and it's instinct and practice and experience that has his step interrupted, coming to a stop and turning sharp on his heel towards the general, snapping off a perfect salute as he faces him, helmet polished to a shine and back straight. Falling into attention as if he had been waiting for the chance.]
General Hux, sir.
[It is both a greeting and an acknowledgement. Eager, for all his response is impersonal and sharp as a blade. He was special. That is what Kylo Ren had told him. If it was true (and it must be) he would prove worthy in the eyes of all those he served.]
He was the subject of both. His skills were of particular note, as a pilot and as a gunner he was far and above. He had overcome every obstacle, excelled in every exam. That, perhaps, might have been reason enough for the attention he received from General Hux. It hardly explained the attention from Kylo Ren, however, who had very little time for Stormtroopers and far too much, in most estimates, for him. That, and the fact that he was new, that he had no stories to tell and made no attempt to fraternize made him unpopular with the others. Not aggressively, they weren't suicidal, but there was a certain distance they kept from him. He didn't have a nickname. No one clasped their hands at his back or told him jokes or compared kill counts with him.
If it bothered him, it didn't show. There was no weakness in his back, no hesitation in his stride as he strode down the echoing hall. Alone, again, but no less faultlessly loyal, no less obedient. The voice at his back is familiar- more than, and it's instinct and practice and experience that has his step interrupted, coming to a stop and turning sharp on his heel towards the general, snapping off a perfect salute as he faces him, helmet polished to a shine and back straight. Falling into attention as if he had been waiting for the chance.]
General Hux, sir.
[It is both a greeting and an acknowledgement. Eager, for all his response is impersonal and sharp as a blade. He was special. That is what Kylo Ren had told him. If it was true (and it must be) he would prove worthy in the eyes of all those he served.]
[ TX-701 stands apart from the rest, though Hux doesn't necessarily find this to be a bad thing. There's not much to be done about the height and the regulation diet will get him up to speed on that platform.
As for the behaviors– he's not blind. He's caught sight of the avoidance, the particular way the other troopers would not make contact. A small part of Hux strains, a tug of empathy amidst cold calculation. It's a weakness, but he's been in a similar place, once, twice, several times. Though he has little doubt TX-701 will overcome (he best do so, if he's to make it here), the emotion pulls at him.
And then it's swiftly buried by a quiet sense of pride. 701 shows loyalty, impeccable down to the salute and the way his boot heels snap together. ]
At ease. [ No use in holding formality when he's going to go off the beaten path here. ] How are you adjusting?
[ Something benign to start, a question he'd ask to any of his troopers. ]
As for the behaviors– he's not blind. He's caught sight of the avoidance, the particular way the other troopers would not make contact. A small part of Hux strains, a tug of empathy amidst cold calculation. It's a weakness, but he's been in a similar place, once, twice, several times. Though he has little doubt TX-701 will overcome (he best do so, if he's to make it here), the emotion pulls at him.
And then it's swiftly buried by a quiet sense of pride. 701 shows loyalty, impeccable down to the salute and the way his boot heels snap together. ]
At ease. [ No use in holding formality when he's going to go off the beaten path here. ] How are you adjusting?
[ Something benign to start, a question he'd ask to any of his troopers. ]
[He drops out of attention and smoothly into parade rest, hands clasped at his lower back, shoulders back, feet spaced precisely. It is ease only in technicality, but it's a stance he takes to like he takes to the sky. Something practiced, something instinctual.
How was he adjusting? He had been on this ship for fifty two standard days. Before that he had been stationed elsewhere. He was injured in battle, and that explained why it was difficult for him to remember precisely what had happened before he arrived. It also explained the fading bruises he had only just lost. He had required supplemental training as a result of his injury and the time he had lost, which is why the rest of the troopers he had been training with were so much younger than him. In time he would be as he was before the injury. In time.]
Well, thank you sir. I am fortunate to have the honor of serving aboard the finest ship in the fleet.
[The finest ship in the fleet, headed by the two most powerful men in the First Order under the Supreme Leader. A strange, fortunate coincidence.]
How was he adjusting? He had been on this ship for fifty two standard days. Before that he had been stationed elsewhere. He was injured in battle, and that explained why it was difficult for him to remember precisely what had happened before he arrived. It also explained the fading bruises he had only just lost. He had required supplemental training as a result of his injury and the time he had lost, which is why the rest of the troopers he had been training with were so much younger than him. In time he would be as he was before the injury. In time.]
Well, thank you sir. I am fortunate to have the honor of serving aboard the finest ship in the fleet.
[The finest ship in the fleet, headed by the two most powerful men in the First Order under the Supreme Leader. A strange, fortunate coincidence.]
[ It's an ease in technicality, but it still satisfies Hux on some level. Perhaps it's in the precision, the even spacing, the straightness of his posture. Regardless of how TX-701 may feel, he exudes a confidence. A pride. Such a thing would make lesser men weep at how much loyalty he shows.
Hux is not lesser men, but he is moved.
Though, there's a downturn at the corner of his mouth– 701's response isn't really so much of an answer is it? Vaguely, he wonders if they went too far with the conditioning. No, that can't be. Both he and Phasma were careful. Are careful. They're driven by logic, reason, and restraint. Going overboard is unheard of. Do not waste energy where it can be conserved.
Perhaps, then, it's time to keep a sharper eye on 701. To engage in conversation with more frequency. While Hux is almost at the top of the food chain being in his position, visiting officials should not be given examples of troopers who can't answer correctly. Blind fluff can become meaningless. His troops will not be without drive and thought.
(Even if it all bends towards the First Order). ]
Indeed, fortune is smiling on us all. [ True and true. Though Kylo Ren puts a stitch in things more often than he'd like. ] Your answer, I find, is a bit lacking.
[ With a small gesture, he turns, indicating the other follow. ] Accompany me. I wish to hear your honest opinion.
Hux is not lesser men, but he is moved.
Though, there's a downturn at the corner of his mouth– 701's response isn't really so much of an answer is it? Vaguely, he wonders if they went too far with the conditioning. No, that can't be. Both he and Phasma were careful. Are careful. They're driven by logic, reason, and restraint. Going overboard is unheard of. Do not waste energy where it can be conserved.
Perhaps, then, it's time to keep a sharper eye on 701. To engage in conversation with more frequency. While Hux is almost at the top of the food chain being in his position, visiting officials should not be given examples of troopers who can't answer correctly. Blind fluff can become meaningless. His troops will not be without drive and thought.
(Even if it all bends towards the First Order). ]
Indeed, fortune is smiling on us all. [ True and true. Though Kylo Ren puts a stitch in things more often than he'd like. ] Your answer, I find, is a bit lacking.
[ With a small gesture, he turns, indicating the other follow. ] Accompany me. I wish to hear your honest opinion.
Yes, sir.
[An order was easy. An order he could follow, happily. He takes up a stride just behind Hux's heel, not so bold as to act as if he place was by his side, but near enough to make it easy to speak. He didn't often end up guarding the officials the way that the shock troopers so often did, but he was growing somewhat used to it, from the time he had spent trailing after Kylo Ren, a place of honor in which he stood out. Boldly or brashly, depending on your opinion.
As for an honest opinion-]
I do think I'm adjusting well, sir. As well as could be expected. The regiment is, of course, very similar, the training is rewarding.
[There is a small pause there. The only problem in his assessment.]
There is some way to go in integrating with my fellow soldiers, but I have not found it to negatively impact my performance.
[Some trouble which he would not go into without further prompting. It wasn't his place to suggest jealousy or mistrust in the ranks. Their reservations were no doubt justified. And it hadn't seeped into battle. Yet.
As for the isolation- it was nothing worth noting. The cost more than worth the cause.]
[An order was easy. An order he could follow, happily. He takes up a stride just behind Hux's heel, not so bold as to act as if he place was by his side, but near enough to make it easy to speak. He didn't often end up guarding the officials the way that the shock troopers so often did, but he was growing somewhat used to it, from the time he had spent trailing after Kylo Ren, a place of honor in which he stood out. Boldly or brashly, depending on your opinion.
As for an honest opinion-]
I do think I'm adjusting well, sir. As well as could be expected. The regiment is, of course, very similar, the training is rewarding.
[There is a small pause there. The only problem in his assessment.]
There is some way to go in integrating with my fellow soldiers, but I have not found it to negatively impact my performance.
[Some trouble which he would not go into without further prompting. It wasn't his place to suggest jealousy or mistrust in the ranks. Their reservations were no doubt justified. And it hadn't seeped into battle. Yet.
As for the isolation- it was nothing worth noting. The cost more than worth the cause.]
[ Something he occasionally misses from when he was a lower rank– following orders. With ease. Without having to ask the super important questions about whether those orders are legitimate, whether they'll work. Yes, he still has Supreme Leader Snoke to deal with, but those are less of orders and more of demands, in his opinion. Hux doesn't precisely fear the Force user, but he is uncomfortable with the unknown.
Which extends from Snoke directly to Kylo Ren.
However, that's not exactly here. Instead, he has a trooper who is only willing to listen and answer his questions. Politely, from about a step behind. Hux recognizes the respect, though he angles his head towards the other so he can hear better. ]
Rewarding, good, I'm glad to hear it. We wanted to ensure a pilot of your talent was not wasted, taking into account your comfort as well. [ Not too comfortable, because that led to laziness. But decent challenges bred a desire to perform and perform to the best of ones ability. Just enough recognition, too, went a long way.
There is something to contend with, though, and that is the integration. Hux keeps the sour look off of his face, but he suspects he may have to do have a hand in shifting that tide. After all, teamwork is the name of the game. The First Order didn't run off of one man's will alone (even if he's fairly certain his will would get the job done). It was a well oiled machine. ]
No, I doubt it would affect your performance. [ He's much too good for that. ] It has potential for self-sabotage on others, though. I would most prefer that not to happen.
[ Sounds like some team building exercises will be necessary. Hux notates that, mentally, to bring to Phasma and train the childishness out. Trust, naturally, will be more difficult to breed, but he finds that will show when they have a more open mind about things. And people. ]
For the time being, I may assign you to a accompany some lead pilots. It should alleviate some of the...how should I say– grumbling. [ A small bit of humor curls his lip up. ]
How do more assignments sound, TX-701? [ A pause, because he doesn't want this to sound like a punishment. ] Up to your decision. You may decline, if you prefer.
Which extends from Snoke directly to Kylo Ren.
However, that's not exactly here. Instead, he has a trooper who is only willing to listen and answer his questions. Politely, from about a step behind. Hux recognizes the respect, though he angles his head towards the other so he can hear better. ]
Rewarding, good, I'm glad to hear it. We wanted to ensure a pilot of your talent was not wasted, taking into account your comfort as well. [ Not too comfortable, because that led to laziness. But decent challenges bred a desire to perform and perform to the best of ones ability. Just enough recognition, too, went a long way.
There is something to contend with, though, and that is the integration. Hux keeps the sour look off of his face, but he suspects he may have to do have a hand in shifting that tide. After all, teamwork is the name of the game. The First Order didn't run off of one man's will alone (even if he's fairly certain his will would get the job done). It was a well oiled machine. ]
No, I doubt it would affect your performance. [ He's much too good for that. ] It has potential for self-sabotage on others, though. I would most prefer that not to happen.
[ Sounds like some team building exercises will be necessary. Hux notates that, mentally, to bring to Phasma and train the childishness out. Trust, naturally, will be more difficult to breed, but he finds that will show when they have a more open mind about things. And people. ]
For the time being, I may assign you to a accompany some lead pilots. It should alleviate some of the...how should I say– grumbling. [ A small bit of humor curls his lip up. ]
How do more assignments sound, TX-701? [ A pause, because he doesn't want this to sound like a punishment. ] Up to your decision. You may decline, if you prefer.
Thank you, sir. [There's a note of genuine pride in his voice, for all it's a demure answer for his praise. He was a good pilot, his skills being recognized could only benefit the Order. Of that he had no doubt.
That edge- something close to smug- doesn't last long, however. It's clear that the General is not pleased with his admission. He is more than aware it's not a burden he's placed upon his shoulders, but his words had been the cause nevertheless, and there's a twinge of something, something like failure. Something unacceptable. His mouth thins behind his helmet, a small sign of discomfort that is nevertheless unseen. It's- unfortunate, to think that his presence could cause some schism. Could lead to any weakness among the rank and file. It feels like a personal failing more than the rest does.
His attention, wandering for the shortest moment snaps back to Hux then, and the helmet once again hides what he shouldn't show. Surprise, open on his face. That wasn't what he was expecting, really. He notices the smile, but he thinks it's more for the suggestion than it is for him.
More assignments? More hours in the cockpit, with other pilots. It sounded good. Something about flying- it eased a part of him that found itself ill at ease. Quickened his pulse. It was almost better than service- almost. His step picks up, almost catching up to Hux and his much longer legs- but before he can answer, before the edge of excitement can give him a sharp clear affirmative he remembers-
Kylo Ren, who reminded him that he was his. Whose requests were far from regular but which were not anything he would or could refuse.]
Sir- General, I would like to say yes, but my time is not always my own- [And that feels like telling some secret, something that wasn't meant to be known, either. There's a dull thud building in his head, a pressure. Pulse picking up without his permission.]
Sir. [He finished lamely, bitterness on his tongue and he's not sure if it's for Hux's request or Ren's- both were a rare honor. Honors he would fight for, would prove his worthiness for. Service he would gladly do, but he couldn't do both. Kylo Ren, who would tell him the truth, as his place in the Order assured, had said he was special, that his orders were above Hux's but- The General's position, his personal responsibility for the soldiers was known. He couldn't- do both. Be both things.]
That edge- something close to smug- doesn't last long, however. It's clear that the General is not pleased with his admission. He is more than aware it's not a burden he's placed upon his shoulders, but his words had been the cause nevertheless, and there's a twinge of something, something like failure. Something unacceptable. His mouth thins behind his helmet, a small sign of discomfort that is nevertheless unseen. It's- unfortunate, to think that his presence could cause some schism. Could lead to any weakness among the rank and file. It feels like a personal failing more than the rest does.
His attention, wandering for the shortest moment snaps back to Hux then, and the helmet once again hides what he shouldn't show. Surprise, open on his face. That wasn't what he was expecting, really. He notices the smile, but he thinks it's more for the suggestion than it is for him.
More assignments? More hours in the cockpit, with other pilots. It sounded good. Something about flying- it eased a part of him that found itself ill at ease. Quickened his pulse. It was almost better than service- almost. His step picks up, almost catching up to Hux and his much longer legs- but before he can answer, before the edge of excitement can give him a sharp clear affirmative he remembers-
Kylo Ren, who reminded him that he was his. Whose requests were far from regular but which were not anything he would or could refuse.]
Sir- General, I would like to say yes, but my time is not always my own- [And that feels like telling some secret, something that wasn't meant to be known, either. There's a dull thud building in his head, a pressure. Pulse picking up without his permission.]
Sir. [He finished lamely, bitterness on his tongue and he's not sure if it's for Hux's request or Ren's- both were a rare honor. Honors he would fight for, would prove his worthiness for. Service he would gladly do, but he couldn't do both. Kylo Ren, who would tell him the truth, as his place in the Order assured, had said he was special, that his orders were above Hux's but- The General's position, his personal responsibility for the soldiers was known. He couldn't- do both. Be both things.]
[ Over the years, he's become accustomed to people saying things and doing another. Or of the tones used to express themselves even if their faces cannot be seen. In this moment, he hears the grin, the note of pride in 701's voice. It's pleasing, because the answer is respectful as well. Not cocky.
Good, all good.
Though, even without looking, the silence suggests a change of mood. Hux is no Force user, but he could guess that the rift is weighing on the other. There's a discomfort; tension sitting in the space between. For now, he lets it lie until he's absolutely sure. Something to keep in mind for another time.
Because he's being gifted with the bite of information he really went looking for. A part of him crows with delight, though he keeps that off of his expression. To show his elation would be a breach of character and he has a certain reputation to control. ]
I understand your dedication to the First Order, but this is your choice, you understand. Is there something barring you from making it?
[ Or someone. ]
Good, all good.
Though, even without looking, the silence suggests a change of mood. Hux is no Force user, but he could guess that the rift is weighing on the other. There's a discomfort; tension sitting in the space between. For now, he lets it lie until he's absolutely sure. Something to keep in mind for another time.
Because he's being gifted with the bite of information he really went looking for. A part of him crows with delight, though he keeps that off of his expression. To show his elation would be a breach of character and he has a certain reputation to control. ]
I understand your dedication to the First Order, but this is your choice, you understand. Is there something barring you from making it?
[ Or someone. ]
[A question isn't, strictly speaking, an order. But to refuse to answer a superior's question is a form of disobedience. He wouldn't refuse, then. Would never, but he hesitates anyway.
Kylo Ren has told him that he will be important. That his actions will have meaning and will help, more than the regular duties of a stormtrooper, of a pilot, them win their war. That he is instrumental in some way, for some unknown reason. But he had said it in private. In the dark, in the quiet, just for him. Whether this is common knowledge, he doesn't know. If it's not, does knowing put the plan at risk?
But how could it? General Hux was beyond reproach. He was loyal. He was a faithful son of the Empire.
So why didn't he know? Except it is no secret that there is some- friction between the two of them. Between Kylo Ren's position, untitled but powerful, and Hux's, with the title but no control over the Jedi Hunter. Their disagreements were the worst kept secret within the ranks, and even before Kylo had told him that Hux didn't own him TX-701 had heard the whisperings of it.
The headache doesn't fade, and the pressure, to answer, only increases.]
I have duties, sir. Beyond those assigned by Captain Phasma.
[Which is the most subtle way he can think to say something he isn't sure he can say at all. It's clear in his tone that it's only reluctantly spoken, words forced and short.]
Kylo Ren has told him that he will be important. That his actions will have meaning and will help, more than the regular duties of a stormtrooper, of a pilot, them win their war. That he is instrumental in some way, for some unknown reason. But he had said it in private. In the dark, in the quiet, just for him. Whether this is common knowledge, he doesn't know. If it's not, does knowing put the plan at risk?
But how could it? General Hux was beyond reproach. He was loyal. He was a faithful son of the Empire.
So why didn't he know? Except it is no secret that there is some- friction between the two of them. Between Kylo Ren's position, untitled but powerful, and Hux's, with the title but no control over the Jedi Hunter. Their disagreements were the worst kept secret within the ranks, and even before Kylo had told him that Hux didn't own him TX-701 had heard the whisperings of it.
The headache doesn't fade, and the pressure, to answer, only increases.]
I have duties, sir. Beyond those assigned by Captain Phasma.
[Which is the most subtle way he can think to say something he isn't sure he can say at all. It's clear in his tone that it's only reluctantly spoken, words forced and short.]
[ Ah, so here lies the truly delicate balance.
He could, in all honesty, ask for details in a bullish manner. But, he has no intention of rendering his troopers useless. And while 701 is already caught between his and Ren's friction, exacerbating it could lead to the pilot thinking it's entirely his fault. Guilt and split loyalties are not what he wants to impose. Slowing his pace, he takes some time to consider his response.
There's nothing that irritates him more than Kylo Ren whispering into TX-701's ear, corrupting a perfect soldier of his. It's childish, to pull him in one direction, and quite frankly, it feels as though his authority as General is being undermined. Nothing new, not totally, but a different tactic than has been tried in the past. Resisting the urge to breathe out a deep sigh, he keeps his composure on tight, face as impassive as he can manage.
If Kylo Ren wants to play games, then he'll have to realize who he's playing against. ]
They were assigned by Lord Ren? He seems to favor you, especially as of late.
He could, in all honesty, ask for details in a bullish manner. But, he has no intention of rendering his troopers useless. And while 701 is already caught between his and Ren's friction, exacerbating it could lead to the pilot thinking it's entirely his fault. Guilt and split loyalties are not what he wants to impose. Slowing his pace, he takes some time to consider his response.
There's nothing that irritates him more than Kylo Ren whispering into TX-701's ear, corrupting a perfect soldier of his. It's childish, to pull him in one direction, and quite frankly, it feels as though his authority as General is being undermined. Nothing new, not totally, but a different tactic than has been tried in the past. Resisting the urge to breathe out a deep sigh, he keeps his composure on tight, face as impassive as he can manage.
If Kylo Ren wants to play games, then he'll have to realize who he's playing against. ]
They were assigned by Lord Ren? He seems to favor you, especially as of late.
[The General's pace slows, and so does TX-701's. The result is even greater silence in the hall, even less to disguise the words being spoken. Less distraction from the low pain.
Things would be- easier. If there was some agreement between them. They had the same goal (didn't they? didn't they all?) so there should be peace. Stability. Order. The fact that there wasn't- wasn't something for him to consider. It was none of his business. Questioning their actions was not his place. Where his place was, that was the problem. He was the problem.]
Yes. [And the answer is to both, short and flat and echoing inside of his helmet. Yes, they were. Yes, he was.]
He has found use in my service.
[Why his service? That was something he could't explain. Not with any sense.]
Things would be- easier. If there was some agreement between them. They had the same goal (didn't they? didn't they all?) so there should be peace. Stability. Order. The fact that there wasn't- wasn't something for him to consider. It was none of his business. Questioning their actions was not his place. Where his place was, that was the problem. He was the problem.]
Yes. [And the answer is to both, short and flat and echoing inside of his helmet. Yes, they were. Yes, he was.]
He has found use in my service.
[Why his service? That was something he could't explain. Not with any sense.]
[ Though it may not seem evident by his dealings with Kylo Ren, favors order. When things and people are in their proper places. Protocols, laws, rules– these are all things by which he lives his life. From the time he could walk, his father had instilled in him the pride of the waned Empire. Stories of heroic feats and how it had saved lives. So many lives.
Because what people crave most is order and detail. They want to know where their next meal is coming from and when. How they're going to get it and if it will be a matter of jumping through hoops or not. Stability, more than anything else, pulls at the hearts and minds.
Except Ren is everything but. Emotional, he lashes out, a destructive force with no leash. His very personality is at odds with everything he'd grown up to idolize and imitate and frankly, it's an affront to the First Order.
In short, Kylo Ren is problematic, and it's manifesting itself in TX-701 now. ]
I see. [ Time for a little more pressure. ] Lord Ren's personal interests have no bearing on what's at hand. I will be sending you out on the next flight based mission, to assist in strengthening our pilots' skills. If Lord Ren has complaints he should voice them in the proper order.
[ And with that, he stops, feet coming together automatically before he turns to look at 701. ] Is that clear?
Because what people crave most is order and detail. They want to know where their next meal is coming from and when. How they're going to get it and if it will be a matter of jumping through hoops or not. Stability, more than anything else, pulls at the hearts and minds.
Except Ren is everything but. Emotional, he lashes out, a destructive force with no leash. His very personality is at odds with everything he'd grown up to idolize and imitate and frankly, it's an affront to the First Order.
In short, Kylo Ren is problematic, and it's manifesting itself in TX-701 now. ]
I see. [ Time for a little more pressure. ] Lord Ren's personal interests have no bearing on what's at hand. I will be sending you out on the next flight based mission, to assist in strengthening our pilots' skills. If Lord Ren has complaints he should voice them in the proper order.
[ And with that, he stops, feet coming together automatically before he turns to look at 701. ] Is that clear?
[Were he another man, even another trooper, this would be, if not simple, then clear in one way or another. The orders, the conflict they presented, would boil down to a simple concept: who did you fear more? Kylo Ren, of the Knights of Ren, Jedi Hunter, Supreme Leader Snoke's apprentice, or General Hux, leader of the First Order troops, face of First Order military might, personally responsible for your livelihood.
For TX-701 it is less simple than a choice between two painful deaths. And the option, to lie, to swear equally to both, was not one he could manage.
Nor is it as simple as who he preferred. His loyalty to the Order was absolute. Ren and Hux had equal footing within it. Individually it was no more simple. Kylo Ren and his dark whisperings were- seductive. Fit to a truth he felt somewhere deep inside of himself. That he was separate somehow. But assured this difference would only serve the Order, would only make them stronger. The promise of a place of respect. What General Hux offered was no lesser. The urge to conform, to fit neatly within the ranks was buried deep. To stand beside his brothers under the watchful eyes of the General and the Captain and do his small part to form the single best military force in the Galaxy was something that had been seeded into him.
He breaths in, and it feels like blades, like glass.]
I- sir- [The general had turned to face him. He's not entirely sure when it happened. His thoughts are very loud. He couldn't betray him. He couldn't betray him.
Is it clear? Yes, it is clear. Could he follow this order? If Kylo Ren did not require him. If Kylo Ren did require him? He was his- he had said so. But refusing a mission would weaken the Order. That was unacceptable. Kylo Ren wouldn't-
It cycles. He can taste blood in his mouth. His hands are shaking and he's not sure when that started. The sound of his blood in his ears is louder than it should be, echoes and echoes and echoes like the sound of footsteps across a metal floor or fists in flesh and it is almost a relief when he hits the ground because then he doesn't think anything at all.]
For TX-701 it is less simple than a choice between two painful deaths. And the option, to lie, to swear equally to both, was not one he could manage.
Nor is it as simple as who he preferred. His loyalty to the Order was absolute. Ren and Hux had equal footing within it. Individually it was no more simple. Kylo Ren and his dark whisperings were- seductive. Fit to a truth he felt somewhere deep inside of himself. That he was separate somehow. But assured this difference would only serve the Order, would only make them stronger. The promise of a place of respect. What General Hux offered was no lesser. The urge to conform, to fit neatly within the ranks was buried deep. To stand beside his brothers under the watchful eyes of the General and the Captain and do his small part to form the single best military force in the Galaxy was something that had been seeded into him.
He breaths in, and it feels like blades, like glass.]
I- sir- [The general had turned to face him. He's not entirely sure when it happened. His thoughts are very loud. He couldn't betray him. He couldn't betray him.
Is it clear? Yes, it is clear. Could he follow this order? If Kylo Ren did not require him. If Kylo Ren did require him? He was his- he had said so. But refusing a mission would weaken the Order. That was unacceptable. Kylo Ren wouldn't-
It cycles. He can taste blood in his mouth. His hands are shaking and he's not sure when that started. The sound of his blood in his ears is louder than it should be, echoes and echoes and echoes like the sound of footsteps across a metal floor or fists in flesh and it is almost a relief when he hits the ground because then he doesn't think anything at all.]
[ His words seem to hang between them, louder in the empty hall and magnified by the lack of their steps. Hux recognizes that this is a pressure point. Not necessarily for TX-701, but for the troopers in general. Who to answer to? The General with his military backing, his status, or to the Jedi Hunter, Force-user, unknown in rank but somehow equal? He knows too, that most, if not all, will choose based on fear alone. On which consequences they'd rather not face.
It's a survival response, one that is simultaneously beneficial and frustrating.
However, as the time between his question and the answer extends, he wonders what exactly is going on behind the helmet. Was this so difficult? He's getting something of a start in the next moment, words coming out painful, breathing sharp and loud even with the muffled mask. Very suddenly, TX-701 lurches, sways forward and then back. Before he has a chance to reach out and steady him, there's the crash as his trooper bodily hits the floor. Shock registers somewhere in his mind, but he's long practiced in attending to that at a later time. Calmly, he bends down to check for a pulse (weak) before striding over to the closest comm port and getting medical scrambling up here ten minutes ago.
Something like worry gnaws at him; to acknowledge it would be weak, so he doesn't. And simply waits. ]
It's a survival response, one that is simultaneously beneficial and frustrating.
However, as the time between his question and the answer extends, he wonders what exactly is going on behind the helmet. Was this so difficult? He's getting something of a start in the next moment, words coming out painful, breathing sharp and loud even with the muffled mask. Very suddenly, TX-701 lurches, sways forward and then back. Before he has a chance to reach out and steady him, there's the crash as his trooper bodily hits the floor. Shock registers somewhere in his mind, but he's long practiced in attending to that at a later time. Calmly, he bends down to check for a pulse (weak) before striding over to the closest comm port and getting medical scrambling up here ten minutes ago.
Something like worry gnaws at him; to acknowledge it would be weak, so he doesn't. And simply waits. ]
[ It's all falling to pieces; so much of it quite literally as the world shakes and trembles all around him, roaring in his ears. His defeat at the hands of the scavenger rubs salt in the wound, and there is blood in his mouth, the agony of the crossbow bolt slammed into his side giving him strength as much as it saps him.
She won on multiple handicaps -- she wouldn't have had a chance if he truly meant to kill her, but all of this means nothing in the wake of the chaos and the spectacular failure of all their plans. Starkiller has fallen, disintegrating before their eyes, and a part of him wonders at how heartsick the General must be, that his life's work has fallen before him.
He struggles to stand, pounding on the wound as his jaw sets. Pain, pain is what gives him strength (even as it wanes, sticky blood soaking his robes), and he will not fall. The aching torment of Han Solo's face is pushed away, denied, as is the heartache and agony endured in the shreds of his old self. He killed his father in cold blood, and he wonders if this is what power really feels like (like everything dirty has made its home inside of him and threatens to turn him inside out).
He doesn't care. He must not. It was a test and he passed, and that is all that matters.
Kylo struggles to walk, leaning against a tree as blood continues to spill. He tastes copper in his mouth as he forces himself forward, furious with his weakness. He hears voices and machines, the faraway sounds of people searching for him, calling his name -- the familiar white of the stormtrooper regiment glimpsed among the trees.
He's here, too, the General; the only one man he will allow to find him.
Here, He says in his mind, fighting exhaustion; makes sure to show Hux what he's seeing. They have wounds of their own to nurse, and their men must not see. ]
She won on multiple handicaps -- she wouldn't have had a chance if he truly meant to kill her, but all of this means nothing in the wake of the chaos and the spectacular failure of all their plans. Starkiller has fallen, disintegrating before their eyes, and a part of him wonders at how heartsick the General must be, that his life's work has fallen before him.
He struggles to stand, pounding on the wound as his jaw sets. Pain, pain is what gives him strength (even as it wanes, sticky blood soaking his robes), and he will not fall. The aching torment of Han Solo's face is pushed away, denied, as is the heartache and agony endured in the shreds of his old self. He killed his father in cold blood, and he wonders if this is what power really feels like (like everything dirty has made its home inside of him and threatens to turn him inside out).
He doesn't care. He must not. It was a test and he passed, and that is all that matters.
Kylo struggles to walk, leaning against a tree as blood continues to spill. He tastes copper in his mouth as he forces himself forward, furious with his weakness. He hears voices and machines, the faraway sounds of people searching for him, calling his name -- the familiar white of the stormtrooper regiment glimpsed among the trees.
He's here, too, the General; the only one man he will allow to find him.
Here, He says in his mind, fighting exhaustion; makes sure to show Hux what he's seeing. They have wounds of their own to nurse, and their men must not see. ]
[ It's all falling to pieces and Hux can feel parts of himself going along with the planet. As the ground heaves underneath their feet, he shudders, stomach doing flips. Anxiety is high, anger even moreso. And underneath of it all, a self disgust. A despairing part of himself wants to stand amidst the chaos, to scream out his failure and let the planet consume him alongside itself.
Generals go down with their ships, typically. Isn't that so?
Only he can't. No, won't. This is a bitter pill to swallow, especially on the heels of such enormous triumph. The galaxy was one step closer to perfect order. To solutions. To an end of war, struggle, poverty. What the New Republic had left in its wake with its extravagance and inaction. Giving up now, when the fight was half won, it would be weakness. So as Snoke gives his order to find Kylo Ren, Hux lets the numbing sensation of shock wash over him, expression eerily placid. He's near by the wayward Force user, his tracking device indicating distance in closer and closer increments.
A particularly violent shiver of the earth ripples through and he clutches to a nearby tree, steadying only long enough to get his legs underneath him again. Glancing up, he sees him. The Jedi Killer– for once, Hux is relieved to see him. He stands out stark against the white and grey of the forest, dripping blood and cutting an intimidating silhouette even through his injured state. Hurrying, he snaps out orders to nearby troopers over his comm; target acquired, prepare ship for immediate take off and for gods sake alert medical on board the Finalizer.
Long strides take him to Kylo Ren's side, where he immediately offers a shoulder to lean on. ]
Let's go, just up here. Stay with us or the shock will set in too deeply.
Generals go down with their ships, typically. Isn't that so?
Only he can't. No, won't. This is a bitter pill to swallow, especially on the heels of such enormous triumph. The galaxy was one step closer to perfect order. To solutions. To an end of war, struggle, poverty. What the New Republic had left in its wake with its extravagance and inaction. Giving up now, when the fight was half won, it would be weakness. So as Snoke gives his order to find Kylo Ren, Hux lets the numbing sensation of shock wash over him, expression eerily placid. He's near by the wayward Force user, his tracking device indicating distance in closer and closer increments.
A particularly violent shiver of the earth ripples through and he clutches to a nearby tree, steadying only long enough to get his legs underneath him again. Glancing up, he sees him. The Jedi Killer– for once, Hux is relieved to see him. He stands out stark against the white and grey of the forest, dripping blood and cutting an intimidating silhouette even through his injured state. Hurrying, he snaps out orders to nearby troopers over his comm; target acquired, prepare ship for immediate take off and for gods sake alert medical on board the Finalizer.
Long strides take him to Kylo Ren's side, where he immediately offers a shoulder to lean on. ]
Let's go, just up here. Stay with us or the shock will set in too deeply.
[ I'm fine, he wants to snap, pride bruised when he sees Hux come to him, a familiar shape amidst the brittle chaos. But the words are trapped in his throat, and when he tries to stand on his own, he finally stumbles, his arm looping around the General's solid shoulders.
He growls to himself, a sound of frustration and disgust, and perhaps it's Hux's overwhelming emotion that bleeds into him as well. He fights to focus on the sound of his voice, leaning against him. It stings, being this weak; but there is nothing to be done for it right now, when all his strength is channeled into staying upright.
Hux is the only one welcome within the perimeters of his personal space, an unconscious force-field keeping out the others who dare to stray too close.
It doesn't take long before they make their way to the Finalizer, the barrier faltering to allow the medical team close; but Kylo doesn't let go of Hux, not willingly. There are too many broken pieces, too much to hold on to, and the General is the one stable thing in the storm that circles him.
The doctor murmurs quiet instructions, setting off to Kylo's private quarters, flanked by the medical team -- he refuses to let them close, a wolf wounded and likely to lash out, subconsciously seeking comfort from the presence of the one man he allows closer than others. He's cut off too much today, and all that's left is --
-- he doesn't know what this is. Not anymore. Stay with us, Hux says, and he does. He must. ]
He growls to himself, a sound of frustration and disgust, and perhaps it's Hux's overwhelming emotion that bleeds into him as well. He fights to focus on the sound of his voice, leaning against him. It stings, being this weak; but there is nothing to be done for it right now, when all his strength is channeled into staying upright.
Hux is the only one welcome within the perimeters of his personal space, an unconscious force-field keeping out the others who dare to stray too close.
It doesn't take long before they make their way to the Finalizer, the barrier faltering to allow the medical team close; but Kylo doesn't let go of Hux, not willingly. There are too many broken pieces, too much to hold on to, and the General is the one stable thing in the storm that circles him.
The doctor murmurs quiet instructions, setting off to Kylo's private quarters, flanked by the medical team -- he refuses to let them close, a wolf wounded and likely to lash out, subconsciously seeking comfort from the presence of the one man he allows closer than others. He's cut off too much today, and all that's left is --
-- he doesn't know what this is. Not anymore. Stay with us, Hux says, and he does. He must. ]
Edited 2016-02-12 13:59 (UTC)
[ Pride is something he can understand. His own is in tatters at the current moment, but he’s swallowing it in the process of staying alive. Of making sure that Kylo Ren does as well. Returning to Snoke empty-handed would easier, but it would damn his career. Moreover, he does not do failure well or easily.
Neither of them do, really. The other man is growling low, a rough sound that would normally have people turning in fear. Hux has grown used to his temper. Moreover, there’s more at stake here than how the other man currently feels about his situation. Eventually, he feels the deeper press of weight on his shoulders as Ren leans on him more heavily. It’s not a long way to the ship and once boarded, he gives command to pull up the docking door and leave. The last thing any of them would want is to get stuck in the gravitational pull of an imploding planet. As it was, they were risking it by still being planet-side as it shuddered in its death throes.
Everything lurches when the ship takes off and he busies himself with trying to stem some of the bleeding on Ren’s side. In places, it’s difficult, since the Force-user seems reluctant to let go. Perhaps, he thinks, it’s about stability. Keeping himself upright.
Time is fast and slow all at once. The crew onboard the Finalizer greets them, medical standing by as ordered. A faint note of pride sings somewhere in his mind– they’re doing so well in the middle of a crisis. That thought is pushed away to focus on the ruckus that Ren is kicking up, refusing to have attention paid to him by the medical staff. Hux feels his anger welling up. Why now? Why is he intent on acting like a child? It must be the shock. The pressure has finally made him snap. Cool headed as always, the doctor takes it in stride, doling out his own set of orders. With no other choice left, considering he's locked in the steely grip of Kylo Ren himself, he follows the medical team to a more personal room in medbay.
Once there, it's a clinical dressing down. Stripped bare, a concoction of medicines (this for pain, for numbing, for sedation). Through it all, he keeps his lips pressed thin, a reassuring presence nearby as he oversees. The amount of blood is distressing and he feels like he'll be sick, but exhaustion keeps him from it.
Hours pass and finally, finally, a tenuous stability is found. Hux is slumped in a close chair, shoulders bending inwards, back curving under the aching tiredness that runs through him. ]
Neither of them do, really. The other man is growling low, a rough sound that would normally have people turning in fear. Hux has grown used to his temper. Moreover, there’s more at stake here than how the other man currently feels about his situation. Eventually, he feels the deeper press of weight on his shoulders as Ren leans on him more heavily. It’s not a long way to the ship and once boarded, he gives command to pull up the docking door and leave. The last thing any of them would want is to get stuck in the gravitational pull of an imploding planet. As it was, they were risking it by still being planet-side as it shuddered in its death throes.
Everything lurches when the ship takes off and he busies himself with trying to stem some of the bleeding on Ren’s side. In places, it’s difficult, since the Force-user seems reluctant to let go. Perhaps, he thinks, it’s about stability. Keeping himself upright.
Time is fast and slow all at once. The crew onboard the Finalizer greets them, medical standing by as ordered. A faint note of pride sings somewhere in his mind– they’re doing so well in the middle of a crisis. That thought is pushed away to focus on the ruckus that Ren is kicking up, refusing to have attention paid to him by the medical staff. Hux feels his anger welling up. Why now? Why is he intent on acting like a child? It must be the shock. The pressure has finally made him snap. Cool headed as always, the doctor takes it in stride, doling out his own set of orders. With no other choice left, considering he's locked in the steely grip of Kylo Ren himself, he follows the medical team to a more personal room in medbay.
Once there, it's a clinical dressing down. Stripped bare, a concoction of medicines (this for pain, for numbing, for sedation). Through it all, he keeps his lips pressed thin, a reassuring presence nearby as he oversees. The amount of blood is distressing and he feels like he'll be sick, but exhaustion keeps him from it.
Hours pass and finally, finally, a tenuous stability is found. Hux is slumped in a close chair, shoulders bending inwards, back curving under the aching tiredness that runs through him. ]
[ Kylo Ren loses track of time, steeped in the whirlwind of his own thoughts, fighting not to descend into shock as he's attended to, taking in the occasional bursts of pain as they work to patch him up. The copper tang of blood is thick in the air, and he only moves when they try to erase the scar left by Rey's lightsaber. Even through his sedation he is lucid, aware of Hux's hovering presence, unwilling to admit that the man plays at least a small part in keeping him somewhat amenable.
He thinks of all that's unfolded, the test he's passed (so how come it feels like he's failed?), the struggle between the light and darkness, on everything that he draws on to fortify himself. He has a destiny to rise towards, to finish the work his grandfather began and ultimately failed. He is a product of that failure, he knows. But he will not make the same mistake twice.
Kylo refuses painkillers, agreeable only to the sedation. Pain, he knows, is nothing to be feared; and in sedation-lined agony there is a certain clarity of thought, of focus. He sees Han Solo's face, and perhaps the ultimate death of who he used to be before he was Kylo Ren. He remembers the howl of anguish from the wookie, and had done nothing to stop the bolt from tearing him another new hole (perhaps he had thought he deserved it).
Hours pass, and when the doctor finally leaves them both, he turns his head to study Hux. The General looks smaller now when he's hunched over, less imposing in his weariness and their shared failure. Kylo is acutely aware of the fact that he didn't have to be in here with him, that most of Hux's command had not been on the ground, in the thick of battle, but always above; planning and executing. He can practically taste the distress coming from the man, no matter how he excels at hiding it.
Still, there is nothing to be done for it now, save to regroup and try again -- no empire is without its setbacks. He finally speaks, mouth dry. ]
Come here.
He thinks of all that's unfolded, the test he's passed (so how come it feels like he's failed?), the struggle between the light and darkness, on everything that he draws on to fortify himself. He has a destiny to rise towards, to finish the work his grandfather began and ultimately failed. He is a product of that failure, he knows. But he will not make the same mistake twice.
Kylo refuses painkillers, agreeable only to the sedation. Pain, he knows, is nothing to be feared; and in sedation-lined agony there is a certain clarity of thought, of focus. He sees Han Solo's face, and perhaps the ultimate death of who he used to be before he was Kylo Ren. He remembers the howl of anguish from the wookie, and had done nothing to stop the bolt from tearing him another new hole (perhaps he had thought he deserved it).
Hours pass, and when the doctor finally leaves them both, he turns his head to study Hux. The General looks smaller now when he's hunched over, less imposing in his weariness and their shared failure. Kylo is acutely aware of the fact that he didn't have to be in here with him, that most of Hux's command had not been on the ground, in the thick of battle, but always above; planning and executing. He can practically taste the distress coming from the man, no matter how he excels at hiding it.
Still, there is nothing to be done for it now, save to regroup and try again -- no empire is without its setbacks. He finally speaks, mouth dry. ]
Come here.
[ What occurred to Kylo Ren is still a mystery. Of course, he can take a few educated guesses. There had clearly been a fight of some sort. A struggle. Perhaps that girl had been involved (something tells him this is true). He's tempted to ask, to hear it all from beginning to end. Because knowing is better than not. If he needs to plan around something, knowledge is the first step.
Even though the mere thought of plotting anything makes him feel strangely unhinged. Stretched too thin and shock digging deep. As he sits in this chair, not even noting how uncomfortable it is, Hux stares off towards the ground. All over it feels like his limbs are leaden, that the air is stifling. Out of the corner of his eye, he can tell Ren is staring. Studying. What does he see? Hux almost doesn't want to imagine, because he's having difficulty swallowing his own presence at the moment.
Something broke when Starkiller fell to pieces, only he's much too tired to acknowledge it. His crew needs more orders, he should be on the bridge, should be figuring out their next course, should– ]
No. [ And then: ] Why?
Even though the mere thought of plotting anything makes him feel strangely unhinged. Stretched too thin and shock digging deep. As he sits in this chair, not even noting how uncomfortable it is, Hux stares off towards the ground. All over it feels like his limbs are leaden, that the air is stifling. Out of the corner of his eye, he can tell Ren is staring. Studying. What does he see? Hux almost doesn't want to imagine, because he's having difficulty swallowing his own presence at the moment.
Something broke when Starkiller fell to pieces, only he's much too tired to acknowledge it. His crew needs more orders, he should be on the bridge, should be figuring out their next course, should– ]
No. [ And then: ] Why?
[ Hux is a raw, open wound; he might not be injured but his thoughts bleed through so much pain that it's impossible for Kylo to pick up on. He's hurt in ways that doctors cannot mend, and while Kylo will never (even under pain of death) admit to any measure of sentimentality he has for the man, while he's largely rationalized it to himself as a practical course of action, he struggles to sit up, fighting bone-deep exhaustion.
He's unfazed by the instinctive rejection, decides that this is the most efficient course of action; softness has no place between them. ]
That chair looks uncomfortable. [ An observation, that's all. Kylo refuses to contemplate deeper ramifications. Rejects the notion that he wants to hold him. ] And your mind [ -- rattled, battered, angry, desperate -- ] is making an inordinate amount of noise.
[ He still keeps his promise to stay out; but this, he can't possibly ignore. ]
He's unfazed by the instinctive rejection, decides that this is the most efficient course of action; softness has no place between them. ]
That chair looks uncomfortable. [ An observation, that's all. Kylo refuses to contemplate deeper ramifications. Rejects the notion that he wants to hold him. ] And your mind [ -- rattled, battered, angry, desperate -- ] is making an inordinate amount of noise.
[ He still keeps his promise to stay out; but this, he can't possibly ignore. ]
[ At the sound of motion, Hux picks up his gaze, pale eyes settling on the injured man. A frown pulls at the corners of his mouth, disapproval showing clearly. Of course Ren would struggle to sit up even after taking a bolt to the side.
How stupid. ]
Must you be so stubborn, lay back down. [ If he focuses on that instead, maybe he can make it out of this conversation with everything intact. ] It's only uncomfortable because I've been here for several hours. You threw a fit if it were even hinted that I'd leave.
[ This is your fault. ] I'm tired, Lord Ren. I'd rather not hear about how much noise I'm supposedly making.
How stupid. ]
Must you be so stubborn, lay back down. [ If he focuses on that instead, maybe he can make it out of this conversation with everything intact. ] It's only uncomfortable because I've been here for several hours. You threw a fit if it were even hinted that I'd leave.
[ This is your fault. ] I'm tired, Lord Ren. I'd rather not hear about how much noise I'm supposedly making.
Edited (html!!!!) 2016-02-14 08:44 (UTC)
[ He hears it loud and clear, the words Hux thinks but leaves unspoken. But there is more to the defensiveness, the stubborn clinging to his pride. Kylo is not the only obstinate individual in this room. ]
Must you be so stubborn? [ He asks pointedly, refusing to lie back down. It takes all his will to sit up, the pain a terrible, burning thing that he struggles to keep under control. They are both hurting, and Hux lashes out at him because it's convenient. Easy. ]
There is enough space on this bed for us both. [ This is merely an exercise in practicality, that's all. That has to be all. Kylo still feels weakened, diminished in the wake of Han Solo's death, the touch of a warm hand on his face, and he pushes the thought away. Hux is a welcome distraction, and he gestures at the door, the locks clicking into place. ] No one will enter.
Must you be so stubborn? [ He asks pointedly, refusing to lie back down. It takes all his will to sit up, the pain a terrible, burning thing that he struggles to keep under control. They are both hurting, and Hux lashes out at him because it's convenient. Easy. ]
There is enough space on this bed for us both. [ This is merely an exercise in practicality, that's all. That has to be all. Kylo still feels weakened, diminished in the wake of Han Solo's death, the touch of a warm hand on his face, and he pushes the thought away. Hux is a welcome distraction, and he gestures at the door, the locks clicking into place. ] No one will enter.
Edited 2016-02-14 09:02 (UTC)
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