albinomilksnake | STAR WARS: possible spoiler warning

Why would I run? I'm not afraid.

[Not entirely true. She had witnessed Kylo Ren murder his father in cold blood; she had felt the fierce pull of his power as he wrested images and memories from her mind. She had seen him strike down Finn, merciless. But none of those things, horrible as they were, compared to the chilling fury she felt when they had crossed lightsabers in a different time, in a different forest. She had been angry then, too, and she feels some of that anger burning in her throat now, threatening to crawl its way up into her mind, to poison her.

Kylo Ren is poisoned beyond healing. Or so Rey believes. For whatever reason, his mother disagrees. Despite what he had done. Despite what he might intend to do. General Organa loved him, and wanted him back.

Part of Rey feels deep bitterness at this. Ren has betrayed his family utterly, irrevocably. He takes sacred bonds and shatters them as if they are nothing, and then he spits on the shards.

Rey thinks of her long nights on Jakku as she stares him down. The family she had dreamed of has always been there for Ren. Waiting. Hoping. Begging, now, for him to return. She aches for the unfairness of it all.

But she does not move. She only narrows her eyes, and adds:]

Your mother misses you.

Enough.

[She knows his hand, that much has been true since the day they first crossed paths with one another: his own attempts to pry loose her thoughts spilling backwards into his own. He'd been unprepared when he overestimated her ability-- what was locked within her mind-- but here, now, those mistakes have been accounted for.

First by Snoke's agenda, and then with what was left of the man he used to be.

So what he perceives as a jab at would-be vulnerabilities, he meets with a hard flick of his hand, setting a shockwave of kinetic energy towards her with violent force. If it fails to connect, if she's quick enough to even perceive it, it doesn't matter: the gesture is a promise that her survival hadn't defanged him. He hurt her once before, he'll gladly do it again.]

[Rey is in the nascent stages of her training. Coming here to this planet, finding this temple--it was the very first of the tasks Luke Skywalker had set for her. She had potent raw potential, but it was still unshaped, indelicate. She felt the brute force of Kylo Ren's attack rippling around her before it struck, but not quickly enough to do anything about it, not aside from uselessly bracing herself with her staff.

She's bodily thrown backwards, feels her spine crack as she slams into the unyielding bark of a tall, thick tree. Pain surges, sparking in her nerves, and she groans. But she does not fall limp; she does not collapse onto the forest floor. She squeezes her eyes shut, grits her teeth, and she stands. She'll have to be more careful.]

She does. Even after what you've done. What you've become.

[Rey levels her staff at him, her expression hard, even though ache continues to pulse throughout her muscles.]

She wants you to come home.

[He admired her, initially - that potent force of will, raw and unshaped, edging in against his own efforts - saw kinship in her that he could build up under Snoke's guidance, had she not slipped free of his grasp. Now, the more she speaks of the woman that was once his mother, the more driven he feels to break her without mercy. Shatter bone like glass, basking in choked-off screams, the way he had before Starkiller became little more than a distant, burning memory.

That he manages not to is a testament to how committed Kylo Ren is to carrying out his aligned course. Snoke wanted her alive; he's come to ensure that demand becomes a reality.

His blade flicks eagerly forward, poised to strike when he closes in. Her staff won't hold against it, of that he is certain, and while he intends to disarm her, there are marks beneath the worn fabric of his robes that he aches to repay in full.]

I said enough! [And with that, he strikes, lashing out with untethered ferocity for the jut of her right shoulder where it's drawn up defensively.]

[This time, she's ready. Mostly. Ren's lunge goes for her shoulder, and she tries to quickly duck down against the tree to evade. She mostly succeeds: his lightsaber cuts more into oak than flesh. But she winces in pain as she rolls out of the way, because he's grazed her, and even a graze from a burning lightsaber is costly and painful. Her shoulder screams as a thin line of burnt skin rises, red and searing, in the wake of his attack. Rey squeezes her eyes shut, breathing through the pain.

Then, gritting her teeth, she acts quickly. With one hand, she lifts her staff and just hurls it at Ren, aiming vaguely for his midsection, aiming more than that to somehow catch him off guard. Her other hand goes to her sash and unclips Luke's lightsaber. The blade flares to bright blue life as she activates it.]

We don't have to do this.

[She takes her stance, exhaling hard.]

But if you insist.

[In that-- if nothing else-- she succeeds: the staff catches him just at the base of his lowest rib, beneath the crossguard of his blade, stopping him mid-stride for the sake of buckling in pain. Stupid of him to let hunger and overconfidence rule his attentions again, but as long as he's waited to make right their last encounter, restraint is barely within the realm of possibilities.

Still, he's lived long enough to know what that ache can be if he only utilizes it properly.

Breath floods back into his lungs as he again refocuses his attention. Stands tall, shoulders hunched aggressively forward, all posture and bite when he rushes to meet that flaring blade held fast in her grip. It's meant to be blocked. It's so dead-center there's no mistaking it, and the force bearing down in that strike should be staggering - as hateful and bitter as he is, beneath scarred wounds.]

I do.

STAR WARS: possible spoiler warning

take your time (obviously i'm not the fastest draw in the west either)!

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