open rp post

[killthepast]

OPEN RP POST

this is an open rp post. do what you will with it. picture prompts, prose starters, tflns, lyrics, memes, etc etc etc. gen preferred, but i'm not 100% opposed to shipping, depending on the character and how well they click. permissions here & character info here.

- random scenario meme
- au meme
- random dialogue prompt
- random scenario generator
- prompt masterlist

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[killthepast]

[ u wish ur hair was as fluffy as his.

Anyway, this would teach Ren not to lose his shit over small potatoes like this droid, but, no, it's Kylo Ren, he won't learn a damn thing. He takes a startled jump back to dodge the bolt at his feet, but his hand is grazed by the second shot, the lightsaber clattering back to the ground.

With a growl, he uses Poe's moment of heroism (wasted on that droid) as an opportunity to kick out the other man's knee, then pull the lightsaber back into his outstretched hand. It hurts, burned as his hand is, but the pain is good. It gives strength to his anger, it in turn feeding the Dark Side.

He could cut the pilot down right now. He should do it. the only thing that stops him is the knowledge that he has no real advantages on this moon, not yet. Killing a man in public doesn't serve his best interests when he holds no position of prestige or authority.

But that doesn't mean he won't reach out to grab the other man and yank him close, pressing the hilt of his weapon against him.

There's a hint of something feral in his voice, a testament to the violent impulses he's swallowing back. ]

Think carefully about what you'll do next.

[volitaunt]

Go ahead.

[ Poe has the muzzle of his blaster shoved up against Ren's stomach. His heart's still running a billion miles a parsec, but there's something in this particular moment that's a lot more like doing a barrel roll away from cannon fire than waiting to be broken. ] I'll live long enough to blast a hole through your intestines, and hey, even if I can't manage that, everyone watching us right now will know exactly what you are.

[killthepast]

[ His heart's pounding, too, from the adrenaline and the unrestrained emotions running wild inside, held at bay only by his knowledge of the bystanders around them. It's been some time since he's had to maintain a public face without the mask, but it's not as if he's forgotten how.

The moment he feels the barrel of a blaster pressed to his stomach, his grip on the lightsaber tightens, ready to ignite the blade, except...

Well.

Looks like they're at an impasse. It's mutual destruction unless they either part ways peacefully or one gains the upper hand again.

What you are. Ren bristles at the words, grits his teeth and very nearly strikes then and there. ]

You drew your blaster. You fired the first shots. [ Not that he blames Dameron. He'd likely do the same, if he'd come across an enemy worth his time.

There's a quick-thinking mercilessness that he could almost admire. His voice softens, blandly inquisitive. ] So tell me... If I cut you down: what do you really think they'll see?

[volitaunt]

[ Poe's smile goes from hard-edged and violent to something softer. Wild adrenaline gives way to the perfect knowledge of who and what he's prepared to die for. Who and what he knows he'll leave behind to finish the fight. ]

I mean, BB-8's pretty popular all on his own and you threw him into a wall. Killing his partner, a member of the Perimeter Guard, in a street full of civilians? [ He presses his blaster a little harder against the man's ridiculous black shirt. ] How many friends have you made here, Kylo Ren?

[ With the way Poe says the name, he might as well be saying neener neener. ]

[killthepast]

[ He can feel it: the certainty, the complete lack of fear emanating from Poe. He would be content to die for his cause, his people. Ren should kill him, then stamp out every seed of the Resistance hiding in this quarantine, just to prove the pointlessness of such sentimentality.

Except... the lesson wouldn't be particularly effective, since the person he'd be teaching it to would be dead...

Ren answers that question with a forceful (lowercase f) shove back, putting some distance between them. He's confident enough that he could stop the bolt if Dameron gets it in his head to try firing again. ] I should thank you for returning this to me. [ BUT HE'S NOT GONNA, SO THERE. ] Go.

[volitaunt]

Hmm, no, I don't think I will. [ He's still got that smile on his face. Poe slides his blaster back into its holster, keeping his hand wrapped around the grip. ] This isn't a First Order star destroyer. This isn't a First Order base. You're no one. So I think I'll stay right where I am, and you can go.

[killthepast]

[ He hates this man, this nothing of a rebel, putting to words everything he knows already about his status here. Of course, it's only temporary: he'll either find his way off his rock, or he'll rise in the ranks. What he won't do is languish like some bottom-feeder. And what he should do, right here and now, is rise above and walk away with his dignity intact.

But, even still, the knowledge that this is but a transitional circumstance can't keep his anger at bay in this moment. If asked, Ren would claim his fury as a strength, but there's a part of himself (small, quiet, but still present) that knows what it truly is: weakness. And it's one that he gives into when, with a snarl, he whips his hand out to yank Dameron's blaster and shatter it against the nearest wall.

When given the choice to walk away or throw a giant baby tantrum, he goes for the latter. AND NOW HE'LL TURN ON HIS HEEL AND STALK OFF. ]

[volitaunt]

[ Because it is the purview of rebel scum to be snarky in the worst possible circumstances, and because Poe was definitely definitely not startled by that particular display of meaningless power, he yells after Ren's retreating back: ]

I liked that blaster!

[ He's just going to stand there for a few seconds. Collect himself, make sure Darth Tantrum is really leaving.

And then he's going to flat-out run back to the communal housing building and find his goddamn roommates. ]