ichor

[indie RP for Kylo Ren]

[catchthatregenerator]

Oh, Ren wasn’t for Adam Monroe to kill. That was the truth of it. He usually could make most anything die, granted, but he didn’t think so in this case. His instincts and his judgment of the young man’s abilities were pure. He would not be able to kill him. 

And at the same time, there was a valid reason to avoid killing the spawn of the First Order. 

“I never would. Wouldn’t want to anger what is left of your family.”

[rcdshift-blog]

“Then you’ll fight with me?”

His lips tightened briefly under his mask. Something tensed in his shoulders and back and made him almost imperceptibly taller, a dark, cloaked shadow looming in dim light. How much did he know?

How much did any of them know?

“I have no family.”

[rcdshift-blog]

homoaviens:

“Like you said: your medical droids will see to that.”

It would have been wiser to say nothing at all, but even with years of Jedi training under his belt Ori never quite lost that impulsive streak of his. For as long as he’d been alive, people had been telling him that it would be the death of him. But there he stood, alive, no worse for the wear. He’s said worse in more inappropriate situations. A little bit of cheek is nothing.

Underneath his mask, he cracks a smile that reaches his eyes.

Ren is far from impressed. It’s a trivial little thing. A waste of breath in his opinion -- Senaar ought not to open his mouth at all, if that’s all there is he can share. But he’s willing to provide him with a few chances.

In a limited number.

“Your payment will be delayed.” He motions for them to walk. An acrid stench is in the air, one of scorched metal, cloth, and plastoid. It permeates his mask, nearly comfortingly familiar.

[rcdshift-blog]

tomeltintoshadows:

“You might.”

Several blinks of the eyes, and she can see shapes again, vague silhouettes through the haze the reaction had caused. “The definition of ‘past’, however, remains to be seen.”

It’s a dance, graceful in its nature, but lethal all the same. Her hilt settles in hand again, surprisingly still after the ragged clash. 

“Until that is defined; you shall not.” The mirialan keeps her focus on Kylo, changing her stance to keep abreast of each of his movements (can smell the sand melting into glass in his wake).

He would almost admire her -  if she wasn’t a wall thrown up between him and his prize. Everything about this reminds him of days he’d long tried to forget, tearing free memories of meditation, a padawan braid hanging over his shoulder, soft-soled brown boots...

The fire in his chest flickers. Then flares, desperate. 

“It’s not you I want.” Ren’s tone is tight, like toes balancing on the edge of a cliff. “Get out of my way.”

[rcdshift-blog]

homoaviens:

“My orders were to return him alive, not unharmed.”

Orikih Senaar keeps his voice even, red and white light glinting in his beady black eyes as he stares into Ren’s visor. Most people fear this living shadow, but Ori has seen - and lived through - much worse than the likes of him. He may be dangerous, but Ori doesn’t fear him.

That’s not to say he doesn’t know when to exercise caution, though. After, presumably, holding his gaze for a few seconds, he lowers it. A gesture of respect, perhaps. Or maybe a way of placating him.

“– It’s nothing permanent. I assure you - he’s only dazed.”

Ren makes a displeased sound. The noise scrapes as it comes out of the vocoder. He’s right, of course -- but that doesn’t mean Ren’s happy with the task. Grappling with his own sense of satisfaction, he purses his lips.

Not that he cares much for the health of hostages, it’s truly only procedure. But with a pulse and an intact mind in his hands, Ren can hardly ask for more.

“Our medical droids will see to that.”

His mask tilts further, glinting.

“I should hope he’s lucid -- for your sake.”

[rcdshift-blog]

tomeltintoshadows:

She could sense it, like the way the air goes still as a storm begins the downpour. Two intersecting paths—both of which were meant to kill or disable.

Only a split second’s consideration, and the mirialan ducked, changing her center of balance as she shifted her footing, retaining a strong base as her weapon came up to engage with the young Ren’s. Best to keep him from taking another swing in that manner.

Colliding blades flash light across their faces, plasma vibrating all the way down to his hilt. He grapples with her momentarily, his weapon scraping against hers like the serrated teeth of a saw -- and with a smooth movement, disengages. 

Ren makes a disappointed sound. The point of his lightsaber scorches the ground, tracing the path he wanders. 

“I will walk past you.”

[rcdshift-blog]

tomeltintoshadows:

The crate was met with a lightsaber, the blade igniting mid swing. Dirt still obscured her vision, made it difficult to see—so she didn’t. The Force would guide her.

The other hilt remained at her side, powerless. The single weapon would do in defense of this place.

Interesting. His head inclined, hand hanging in the air. Deflection without sight was basic training, certainly, but Ren’s eyes fell curiously on the deactivated hilt, lips pursing in thought.

Another twitch of the fingers. A second, rusted chunk of steel flew towards the back of her head -- he raised his weapon two-handed, activating the blade, and brought it down towards her skull.

[rcdshift-blog]

@homoaviens

Energy comes off him in slow, subtle waves, crumpling the Force like flimsi. Anticipation, intrigue -- it’s hard for anyone to detect much of anything when Ren is a silent, towering cloak, but he prefers it that way. His masked face turns just slightly downwards, the only indication of his attention.

He’s not particularly upset by the mercenary’s performance, if he’s being honest. If anything, he’s very distantly annoyed. Perhaps even bored. The deserter is (quite literally) dragged away by two obedient, white-clad troopers, head lolling. Ren barely gives them a glance.

“You’ve damaged my prisoner.”

[catchthatregenerator]

Adam had a dizzying surge of anticipation and smiled. There was a sense of being a part of something more here, a warmth in this place. He ran a hand through his hair. 

“Good.”

He reached for the band around his arm, hidden just behind his back. He touched the band, ready to slip it off. 

“I think we are both always looking for an excuse, right?” 

[rcdshift-blog]

He was curious. Not even angry, or impatient, just curious. Cat-like, he tilted his head -- his steps lead him in a broad, exploratory curve. Not even the Force gave Ren an answer.

Just a slow, questioning tenseness.

He sounded almost too genuinely intrigued.

“You think you could kill me?”

[rcdshift-blog]

tomeltintoshadows:

The curl in the Force was her only warning, sand and minuscule pieces of detritus only partially deflected by a turned face.

Shamara exhaled sharply, working to clear her vision after the admittedly low blow (though she would admit it was one she’s stooped to before).

She was no opponent, she was an obstacle. Wasn’t worth the honor when all he wanted was his mission, twenty meters beyond them . The tips of his gloved fingers twitched -- an empty crate hurtled towards her head, indifferent to whether or not it meant her death.  Ren wouldn’t wait. He never did.

[turhaya-a-blog]

The red blur in the air, ahead of her—-breath freezes in her lungs, instinct drives her to backpedal….

A sharp, burning pain in her chest forced her to stop, stand still. For a long few seconds, the Corellian girl isn’t sure if she should still be standing, realizes that the pain has subsided to a dull heat, spreading, pulling away from the weapon—-from the weapon itself. It’s frightening, this, that she hasn’t been run through yet the blade itself was no longer at its full length.

It’s frightening, until she realizes she can control what she’s done. Until now, she had thought it a tale, passed down in her family the way the Force had been.

Fire burns behind those green eyes, fueled by the dwindling weapon.

Words gritted out, layered over with residual pain and sheer force of will. “You—– you will not…. win.”

[rcdshift-blog]

The rage on his face froze. For a moment Ren was glad for his mask -- his eyes were wide and mouth agape like a little boy watching his toy being broken, knuckles tightening as he struggled to force the blade, two-handed, between her ribs. The crossguards flared and dimmed. He could feel the heat of it penetrating his visor.

Ren could feel the energy changing. He could stop it, himself. Could grasp a plasma bolt in mid-air and hold someone’s very life in his hands, but it was a kriffing parlor trick in comparison. Child’s play. His indignation and fury and dignity was damn near sweltering.

No answer -- with a snarl, he thrust the blade forward. The hilt trembled. Stubbornly, he kept his grip, but it had been the wrong move. The crossguards swelled. Plasma burst forth in a great loop and lanced into his arm, making him cry out as he staggered backwards. Deactivated, and so very accusing, the weapon dropped from his hand.

[rcdshift-blog]

turhaya:

Erratic footsteps soon stop moving, planting in place as her hands flash out. It’s a panicked, desperate move, and she’s hoping it works.

The first few pieces of debris Kylo has ripped from the structure hit a barrier and hurtle away, still propelled by the momentum the former Solo has placed behind it.

“I won’t let you!”

He snarls. The noise crackles behind his vocoder, storm-like -- the buzz of his activating lightsaber is like lightning to thunder, and Ren lunges. His blade twirls in his hand. Angry now and not so careful, he lets it paints a blood-red loop and then plunges for her chest, the point directed right at her heart. 

[catchthatregenerator]

Adam’s eyes traced the pattern of the statue in front of him. He was hesitating. He didn’t believe this was the source of power he had been seeking in this far off star system. That meant this could be a trap. 

“I thought you Force-users were the spiritual sort,” Adam said. “We’ve all met before, right?”

Adam turned to look at the malevolent figure, his boots echoing in the vast emptiness. 

“Are you here to destroy this place?”

[rcdshift-blog]

“We have our disagreements.”

It was like he belonged. It was a startling feeling -- the ceiling carved in high arches above them, energy thrumming under his soles and through his bones and trembling in his skull.

He didn’t need to look when it invaded every sense.

“I’m only here for what is mine.”

[rcdshift-blog]

tomeltintoshadows:

It was too much to hope the boy would be swayed by reason at this point. A line walked is one thing. Completely stepping over the line, as the boy had… that was another thing.

“This is not the path you should follow.“

Didn’t matter. His steps are soft but sure. Mouth pressed firmly shut, bitten red with determination, Ren curls fingers in empty space as if grabbing something -- flicks his wrist. Dirt shifts violently before his feet, flying towards her face.

[catchthatregenerator]

@rcdshift

“I know you.”

Adam didn’t turn around. He had beaten the odds too easily–so he welcomed this possible challenge. He stared instead at the reliquary around him. Strange. For people who studied extremes, this was –

Only that. 

He had heard of the new one, history repeating itself worship-fully. Would it help the matter if he had said he had known the first true darkness in this universe? Probably not. 

“You’re late.”

[rcdshift-blog]

“Do you?”

He’d felt his presence -- it had plucked at him all the way in those half-dead forests, interrupting the monotony of festering alien life. Powerful, but unrefined. Ren wondered where he’d come from.

Perhaps this was a trial. 

“I don’t believe we’ve met.”

[rcdshift-blog]

hiddenjedi:

“Then go to hell.” All pretenses of caring have vanished. Any sympathy the boy had garnered evaporated in a moment’s step as the blade in her hand sweeps down and to the side, hooking Ren’s blade before it has a chance to pierce her.

Not again. She would not be run through. Once had been enough for her lifetime (lifetimes, something reminded her).

“That’s the only home left for you.”

The light often infiltrates the recesses of his mind, snaking into even the darkest corners, but there is none there now. The deflection knocks his blade aside – he grits his teeth under the mask and hefts it above his head, swinging down towards the area between her eyes.  

Enough.

[rcdshift-blog]

turhaya:

Eryn ducked, the durasteel barely passing overhead, jagged edges catching and tearing strands of red hair.

The raw anger in his voice frightened the girl, barely more than an apprentice of Luke’s now-dead Order. “You’ll never get what you want!”

The barrage doesn’t stop. Once the scraps start to fade in number, he pries at the structure. His steps towards her are swift. Stone cracks and metal creaks, crumpling as it tears itself away and hurtles towards the girl.

“I’ll rip it from you if I have to!”

[rcdshift-blog]

tomeltintoshadows:

Head tilts up to keep gaze locked with the other’s features. She would not be intimidated by the boy (even if he was Solo and Organa’s son).

“So I’ve heard.”

The Empire made the same mistakes multiple times, and it had lead to their downfall. Much as similar regimes before had made the same mistakes.

Their leaders were too power-hungry, their vision too vast and too broad to be feasible.

“I don’t have time for this,” Ren says, straightening. He has an assignment to attend to: personal in nature, but important to his training. He makes a soft tsking sound – something like his mother, but the noise is deeper and feather-like. Haughty. Disinterested.

“You’ll see for yourself. Soon.”