âź RULE THE GALAXY âź @firstorderprince - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
âź RULE THE GALAXY âź
@firstorderprince
Heyo, this Tantrum Kingâą belongs to a closed RP group called Disney Dark Carnival and will only roleplay with members of that group! You're welcome to like things and follow but please don't engage or reblog RP threads as I won't be able to respond to them! If you really want to interact, we're a super friendly group that always loves new members so feel free to check us out!
I will eventually get a nav up for this nerd I've only had him for a few months a character must be at least a year old for me to find the patience to sit down and code nav and about pages.
Merida still had her nose in the book, but had clicked on the kettle in the corner of the car to make some tea. They had just a little kettle, tea bags and sugar here so people didnât have to trudge back to the dining car. it was nice.Â
The sound of tape rolling away caught her ears and she peeked over the book, and bit her lip so hard it nearly bled with trying not to laugh. Knowing the kettle would take quite a bit of time to boil (it was very old, survived the crash even) the red head walked over to the big chair she loved by the widow. Kicking the tape to Kylo on the way without even looking up from her words. Settling down on the big chair with her legs over the arm.
âWho you sendin that package too?â She asked, flicking a page and listening to the kettle slowly heat up.
She was rummaging around with something-- he could hear it, but he couldnât tell what it was. He kept his ears open, just in case she tried something. He still didnât trust her.
He scowled as she passed him, nose still in her book, plopping herself in an oversized chair. Lazy, careless. It was all wrong. The people around here threw their lives away chasing trivial things.
He stared, almost in disgust, as she kicked the tape to him, the object rolling to a stop near the foot of the table. Who even asked her for her help? He stiffly bent to snatch up the tape, rubbing it off on his tunic with a frown on his face.
He stretched the tape out, eyes flicking up to bore into her. âYouâre awfully nosy, arenât you? Itâs none of your business who Iâm sending it to. Donât you have somewhere else you can read?â
âI-Iâm not afraidâŠâ it wasnât the truth by any means, it was clear in her eyes, âI just⊠I just..â what little light that was around them flickered and dimmed, âIâm fine. Everything is fineâŠâ she let her eyes fall to the ground.
He reached up, a soft click as he unlocked the locks on his mask and pulled it off, revealing his young face. He crouched so he was level with her, setting his mask on the ground in front of him. âI know the sound of a lie when I hear one.â His voice was surprisingly soft without the mask, his tone quiet.
âOf all the places in California, why did it have to be here? Why not wherever the theme parks are?â Peter asked, huffing a breathe out as she kicked at a rock, watching some of her fellow performers, as well as carnies, unload trunks, boxes, and crates.
âTheme parks are for children,â he sniped, a practice dummy hefted over his shoulder, eyes tracing the other distastefully from underneath his mask. âWeâre here to work, not play.â
â HIT ME WITH THAT DARLING REN & DREAM (did i surprise you i SWITCHED IT UP)
The hair whipped around his face, the wind a hollow shriek in the metal bay of the ship. It was so loud he almost couldnât hear himself think. He didnât need to though, because something else was calling him. He turned his head, vision almost obscured by his own hair for a moment.
When he could make out the figures against the opposite wall, he narrowed his eyes. The girl and the boy, so familiar to him, and yet altogether foreign. An immediate bubbling of loathing in his stomach. Kylo turned to face them before looking just beyond them, through the arched doors.
His body drained pale, and he unconsciously moved back. The older man and woman watching him looked weathered by the years. Not at all how he left them. Their faces coloured with familiarity, despite his oath to never see them again. The woman looked at him like a treasure long abandoned, and the manâ the man just looked sad. Torn beyond years.
Something in him shuddered, threatening to break, but he shut his eyes, barring every feeling. And for a moment, it worked. But the overwhelming call broke through again, spreading within his chest. He opened his eyes. They were still watching, waiting.
He took a few unsettled steps forward, almost realizing what he was doing. But he hesitated, a dark feeling creeping up his spine, lacing around his neck like a noose. He shivered, canting his head back as the cold anesthesia replaced the light, seeping into his bones.
The floor shifted, tilting with a metal creaking sound, and he felt his feet slide. He opened his eyes. The ship was sinking. He had no more time to wait. He glanced behind him as the floor tilted again, then made his choice, moving towards the man and woman waiting for him. He could even forget the loathing heâd felt for the boy and girl.
Kylo had almost crossed the threshold when the girl gave a shout. Her fingers dug into the boyâs leather jacket, dragging him up and away, gaze over Kyloâs head.
He spun, the wind roaring in his ears again as he caught sight of a manâ creatureâ on a walkway. Its face was red, all features gone, smoothed out and over, patterned in horns and mouths. The creature watched him, then slowly drew a sword, pointing it at him, a call to arms.
Kylo drew his own. He didnât run. He never ran.
It dropped from the walkway to meet him on the slanted ground, moving into a bound once it was steady on its feet. He didnât hesitate, pushing forward to meet him. He had the advantage of being on higher ground and met it in the middle, sword swinging over his head and low to catch metal near the hilt, leveraging both their swords up and forward to force it to stumble back.
There was a long, drawn out moment of pause before metal hit metal again, friction making a stinging sound, blades flashing as they rapidly swung to try to throw the other off, skating across the floor.
The other was faster than him, and Kylo was having trouble keeping up to block the strikes. He could match it in power, but eventually the other pinned him. He was forced in a defensive stance, his body struggling to hold off the creatureâs sword.
The creature had no eyes, but Kylo could feel a gaze boring into him, menace radiating from the patterned skull. He didnât break the gaze, throat convulsing as he grit his teeth, trying to put force into already straining muscles to stop his backwards bend.
The eyes held gaze with him for a long moment, then tracked to those behind him. Kylo felt the creatureâs aura darken considerably, and then the pressure on the sword loosened. He was allowed to straighten, no longer under assault, and it startled him. He halted for a moment, confused, until he realized that the other was no longer focusing on him.
In fact, it was focusing on the boy and girl, the man and woman, and he felt the gaze return to him, almost⊠inviting? He understood. But he had no desire to cooperate.He stepped in front of the creatureâs gaze again, blocking them from view. He made his choice.
The creatureâs aura spiked again, hazard dripping in every bone, and the sword was swinging again.
Kylo was barely prepared to catch the blade, his sword taking the damage, but position broken from the intensity of the swing.
He stumbled to the side, catching himself, throwing his sword up to block another swing as the barrage came again. The creature was circling him now, using every strike to force him to take a step sideways or backwards.
Kylo realized too late that it was effectively cutting him off from the only safe exit, driving him towards the open end of the ship. He redoubled his efforts, but he was failing. His stamina was flagging, breathing ragged, and the ship was still tilting beneath them.
He was losing endurance when he finally caught an opening as the creatureâs foot slipped. He swung, aiming for the its side, when a sudden shriek pierced his ears, vision whiting out.
He tried to move, but pain ripped through his chest, blooming through the sudden numbness his body was gripped with. Brown eyes tried to focus down at the hilt between his ribs, breathless and floating.
His eyes traced up to the creature, echos of images swimming in view, and he felt his knees begin to buckle. A foot dug against his stomach, and he was wrenched from the only thing keeping him upright.
He was falling backwards before he even hit his knees, taken by the slant of the ship. He could feel the agony in his chest dulling, calming, and then he hit the water.
The water swallowed him up whole, covering him like a dark blanket, and then he was gone.
He sat bolt upright in bed, shaking and dripping in sweat. Tangled up in his blanket, hair damp and corded, he fought his way out, wrenching to his feet. His head whipped around in the dark, paranoia on high alert.
The feeling of being watched was still with him, every hair on his neck prickling. He groggily dragged into the bathroom, fumbling with the light switch. His hips hit the the counter, hands white-knuckling the edge, shoulders squared as he tried not to buckle.
âDammit,â he hissed, jaw tense from clenching his teeth. He hadnât had a dream in years. The last one heâd had was⊠with his uncle.
Dark-rimmed eyes flicked up to the mirror, meeting his own gaze, feeling unnerved for once in his life. Things were shifting, he could just feel it. Something had set in motion. For certain something had awakened. Kylo needed to be sure he stopped it.
Wendy smiled at his first questionâ Sheâd never really been asked if she was British before. The accent usually answered for itself. Regardless of this she nodded and stood from her seat across the room. âBorn and raised in good old London, actually.â She answered as she made her way to where he was.
âYes, he volunteered. When Britain first got involved in the war, a majority of the soldiers were volunteers, not conscripts. As the war waged on, of course, conscription was finally introduced, but until that point a good number had just volunteered to fight.â Talking about this came easy to her, if anything. âHe served for a year or so until he was killed in the Somme Offensive.â
She paused in her explanation as she came to the seat across from him, and gestured at the chair. âYou donât mind if I..?â She let her gesturing say the rest.
Wendy stood up and he stiffened, back muscles tensing almost painfully in reaction. She was moving towards him and while his discomfort didnât show on his face, it was very evident in his body language. âI see.â There was a long pause as he struggled to find something to say. âI only ever visited when I was very young.â
Kylo had only ever studied the American involvement in wars, and a little bit of the Canadian involvement. âMy grandfather volunteered too. Your great grandfather left a wife at home then?â He almost sounded pitying, but not quite there. It was what one got, in his opinion, for involvement.
Wendy reached the table and he was practically bristling. His personal bubble had been popped about five feet ago, and while the other wasnât necessarily being rude, he had qualms about her presence. âNot at all,â he said tightly, knowing Cyrus would have him practice something akin to manners in this situation.
Sheâd made to retort but bit it back as he spoke once more, stopping herself in order to listen to him. His attitude seemed to turn around somewhat, as he turned to look at her and suddenly was much more interested in what she had to say. Well, she certain wasnât going to complain. Surprised colored her expression as he asked what her great grandfather had served as, and mentioned about his own serving in the second world war.
âReally? My great grandfather was an infantryman in Kitchenerâs Army.â Wendy wanted to get up, sit with him so they could speak properly without so much distance between them. Sheâd certainly perked up much more herselfâ Her fascination showed easily on her face as she bit at her lip, debating whether or not she should pry. Wendy figured itâd be fine, considering Kylo had asked her something as well, and didnât seem to mind speaking about it.Â
âA fighter pilot..â She repeated in wonder. âDo you know much about him? How long did he serve for? If you donât mind me asking, of course.â No need to offend him all over again.
âYes.â Kylo shut the book in front of him, tucking his notebook underneath on the off chance she tried to take a peek. He folded his hands underneath his chin, irritability calming noticeably. âInteresting. So he volunteered? Are you British yourself?â Kylo had spent much of his time watching movies about war when he was young-- it was only natural. Everyone in his family had served at one point or another.
She looked apprehensive, but fascinated, and Kylo was curious as to why. He wasnât annoyed about it any more though. He actually looked excited for once when talking. âAll four years the U.S. had formal involvement. He received a Purple Heart, among other honours. He was essential to several missions. And your great grandfather?â
Sif, by some stroke of pure luck, managed not to grind her teeth in irritation. If there was one thing she well and truly hated with every fiber of her being, it was being underestimated. Still, she tried to ward off any trace of anger from her person, though the feeling itself was not dispelled, and rested in her bellyâ Like still burning embers waiting to kick up once more. Still standing tall, sword drawn, she watched closely as the man drew his own sword. She refused to let herself be thrown off by himâ Sif had dealt with plenty of men like him before, and doubted that would end any time soon.
âOf course I know how to use it.â For a moment, she felt her hold on her composure slip, as she started to snarl right back at him, the embers catching light. âI was hired by Scar to work in performance combat after giving him a demonstration of my skill. I am not here to be another of your practice dummies, I am here to be your opponent.â
Sifâs eyes flicked to his sword, clearly made by his own handsâ Something she could respect, and then her gaze traveled right back to him. Eyes boring into his, Sif let a smirk play at her lips. âWould you like a demonstration as well, or can we save the dramatics for the show?â
Kylo could pick up on some emotional signals, and not others. Sifâs anger? Completely passing over his head right now. Perhaps he was still too fascinated by her sword, too intrigued by his new sparring partner to focus on anything else.
He smirked at the sudden snarl though, adjusting his grip on his sword, unwinding the demi-scabbard from the blade, setting it on a nearby box. âSo you were. And so weâll see. You will have to keep up with me. I donât go easy on anyone.â
He met her gaze, unflinching, and hefted his sword into a ready stance, still holding it single handedly despite its double-handed intention. âThere will be no show if you canât keep up, so a demonstration is a necessity.â
Kovu smirked, cocking his head to the side just enough to make it clear that he, for the most part, didnât care about the forced posture in the manâs shoulders. That he didnât really hate the guarded and quiet edge to his voice. It took effort to not just hand the tape back and apologize, tucking his own blank postcard into the outstretched fingers of one of the attendants, but he had to stay firm.Â
He palmed the item, lips coming down into a soft frown, measured. âSounds unreasonable, Kylo- Itâs Kylo right? And also a little bit improbable given we are a) in public and that you b) donât seem to have the means on you with which to cause me any hurt.â After a pause he reached his arm out, palm up with the tape centred on it, as if placating a hurt animal.Â
âI will do what it is in my best interest to do, same as you.âÂ
He narrowed his eyes at the other man, hand still pressed to the top of his box, fully facing Kovu now. âNothing is unreasonable,â he voiced, eyes trained and dark.
The other attempted to speak with him like a chum, to level with him, and Kylo looked disinterested, lifting his chin with a sneer on his lips. âYou will call me Ren. The public does not scare me, and I-- do not need a weapon.â
His eyes flicked down to the tape, distrusting, before he reached out with a gloved hand to snatch it from Kovu, not letting his guard down yet. âWrong again, rulemaker.â He did what was in Cyrusâ best interest.
âWatch me kick you out.â Sif held back an unconvinced scoff, wondering why he seemed so offended by her presence when theyâd never even met before. It was quiet for a moment after that and she mumbled lowly to herself about the confusing organization of the props. It seemed like everything had just been shoved in here in the same way a child shoves things into their closet when told to clean their room.
There was movement from âhisâ side of the car again and she paused, listening closely. Heâd gotten down off of the beam and was moving around. Sifâs hand lingered on her sword, just in case.
The man threw another sort of insult at her, and she turned this time, maintaining an expression of calmness, though she was ready to spring an attack if need be. When he asked about the sword at her hip, she was taken off guard, but her answer came quickly. âIt isnât the Carnivalâs sword, it belongs to me.â Sif retorted with an air of pride, and unsheathed her sword carefully in order to better show it to him. It seemed he had one too, and she paused, surprisedâ Of course sheâd meet him like this.
His eyes were intent on her sword-- not welcoming, but not as hollow as theyâd been a minute ago. âIs that true,â he mused rhetorically, eyes tracing the sword as she unsheathed hers, flashing its beautifully carved blade. Interesting.
âI didnât think we had any other sword wielders on the grounds, besides the untrained drivel Scar has been hiring for me.â There was a curl in his lip, head high and stiff.
âSo you own a sword-- do you know how to use it? Are you another of the untrained weaklings?â There was barely a sentence he uttered that was without taunt, eyes cold again and hyperfocused on her.
He drew his own sword too, long and double-handed, one-edged blades in place of where the typical crossguard would lay. âIâve seen far too many come through, incapable of doing the job they were hired for.â
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