[The thing about abandoned facilities is they're generally pretty cold. Finn feels the chill of it well before he bothers to open his eyes or register the chains leashed to him, and for a few, blurry moments he swears he's back on Starkiller, catching the crisp scent of frigid ventilation just before the morning wake-up call hits home. Stupid, he realizes, once he feels the dig of the chains leashed to him, and the ache of his healing back, gone dry and angry without any of the daily medical attention he'd been receiving. But It's not until he opens his eyes that he catches how off the mark he'd been, tilting his head up to squint blearily at a prison that isn't nearly polished enough for regulation standards. Rust and grit, pooling condensation, high walls and--
Ah.
His eyes narrow when he catches sight of Kylo Ren, nose crinkling from the strain involved in finding focus in that dim, shallow light. He can't be sure, but something about his features looks...off since he last saw him unmasked, stalking hungrily towards him between trees. A brand, maybe? Some sort of burn, grotesque where it sits across those sharpened features. Good, he thinks, taking at least a fraction of contentment from it. He owes a drink to whoever left that autograph.
After that, he adds, sharply:] What, General Hux kill the budget for you guys this cycle?
no subject
Ah.
His eyes narrow when he catches sight of Kylo Ren, nose crinkling from the strain involved in finding focus in that dim, shallow light. He can't be sure, but something about his features looks...off since he last saw him unmasked, stalking hungrily towards him between trees. A brand, maybe? Some sort of burn, grotesque where it sits across those sharpened features. Good, he thinks, taking at least a fraction of contentment from it. He owes a drink to whoever left that autograph.
After that, he adds, sharply:] What, General Hux kill the budget for you guys this cycle?
[Better than asking what happened, he figures.]