#homoaviens

[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.”

[merccnary-blog]

@homoaviens continued from this.

      For him, the solution is all too simple. Get the hell out of dodge, dump whatever identity he’s recently assumed; lay low for a while --- but alas. There is a witness --- even if that witness is supposedly on his side. A witness who knows his face. A witness he cannot afford to take out of the picture.

      Closing the guitar case in which his rifle lies with a soft click of the clasps, he rises to his feet, giving the younger man one long, hard look before he turns his back to him and heads away from the roof and towards the staircase.

      ”You’re coming with me.”

[supcrbia-blog]

@homoaviens

   It’s both incredible and shameful that he hasn’t broken the news yet. Guilt has been eating him alive for what feels like ages, though realistically it’s only been a handful of hours since the incident. He’s unusually anxious, stiff, numb in his hands and face. He can’t shake the feeling that the roof might collapse in on him.

    Percy never joins Oliver for dinner, insistent on heading to bed early -- where he lies wide awake, even after Oliver settles in next to him. For a while all he can manage are weak puffs of air until, finally, words begin to surface:

    “---Oliver... are you awake?”

[distortedfabrications]

@homoaviens

     “I like your place.”