a. ESCAPE FROM BULLSHIT MOUNTAIN Like much of his time spent in this prison, there was no opportunity to consider a change in scenery until it happened. Unlike the shifting of the cell walls or flashes of light that had come before, though, this one ended with an explosion and his sudden impact into cold mud. Kylo pushed himself upright immediately, disoriented and aching, trying to determine if this was another trick, or --
They were back. One quick glance told him all the other prisoners were here, back in Gallipolli, back in the middle of No Man’s Land. Not the worst place to be, but definitely not ideal. Kylo was up on his feet and running for the trenches before the first shot rang out, making him duck his shoulders. The power nullification of those cells was gone now, and he instinctively reached out with the Force, deflecting or avoiding bullets. Anyone running close enough to him might benefit from that protection as well.
The mud didn’t make it easy to run, nor did the rest of the hellish obstacles through No Man’s Land. Kylo practically slid over the edge of the trench, uncaring of how filthy he was and how much colder he’d be later. Once under the relative safety of the trench and friendly gunfire, he turned to find his nearest fellow escapee. “What happened?”
b. THE DESCENT Kylo hadn’t kept track of the hours, or the days, when in that cell. It had been pointless, he thought, and they’d been forced to run on so little sleep the concept of time would have just been infuriating. Worse still when he’d been dumped into solitary once or twice, left alone with his own thoughts and -- memories. Things he’d seen with his own eyes and things Kebechet had thrust in front of him as a test.
Now there was plenty of activity to keep him occupied. No Regency agent was going to pull their punch if he crossed their path, so he was in as much real danger as everyone else here. There was hardly anything in the way of supplies, which kept him hungrier and nastier to anyone that approached him. They had to organize an actual escape, they had to enact it, they had to fulfill their mission parameters -- and he had to find Hux. As much as it pained him to admit they both had orders from higher up, it was true. Freedom from Snoke had lasted a laughably short amount of time, and now he and Hux had to stand shoulder to shoulder and grovel for favor. Again.
Kylo didn’t spent a lot of time approaching anyone else, or looking approachable in general. He’d seek someone out when his thoughts got too far mired in his own head, and he needed a reprieve. Once the evacuation actually started, Kylo carried as much as he could in way of supplies, stopping to pick up whatever looked useful along the way. They’d move a lot faster without the wounded, he knew, but that wasn’t the point, and he wasn’t in charge.
He slowed when something caught his eye, among the scattered notes or bottles of wine. It made no sense to him that someone could still have wine, all these weeks later, and then just decide to leave it behind for the enemy. It wasn’t wine or notes that he wanted to inspect, though, but instead a coat. It was brown, even under the mud, and for a half a second it looked like -- he closed his eyes, trying to banish the thought only to make it worse. Of course it wasn’t any coat Han had worn, it was hardly even close. Kebechet had managed to not only reopen that wound, but seemed to have crippled his ability to seal it again. He needed to get back into the procession, find something to occupy his mind again before it could wander off down this road again.
Kylo snatched up the coat, intent on throwing it out of sight, only to stop when he felt something solid in one of the pockets. Turning it out, a pair of dice fell into his open palm. His blood ran cold, and he dropped both the coat and dice as if they’d scalded his hands. Turning away, Kylo stomped back to his place in line, snapping: “What?” at anyone who watched him.
c. DAVID VS GOLIATH: THE FINAL ROUND By now they’d spent so much time running Kylo considered it was a relief when he felt the hairs on his arms and the back of his neck rise, signaling the inevitable approach of the Regency. This time it was no holding back, and while he was missing his lightsaber, he could still lash out with the full force of his powers. Which, admittedly, was diminished -- but no less effective.
Kylo did as much damage as he could from a distance, which was not his preferred style. Once his rifle was out of ammo, he just threw it to the sand and abandoned it. He wasn’t going to need it once they left this beach, anyways. The agents, he already knew, would not be affected by anything he did with the Force against them directly. So he used whatever else was available, lifting it with the Force and launching it at them as hard as he was capable. He’d been stronger back home, but throwing an empty tent at a pair of them had worked fantastically as the cloth momentarily blinded and constrained them.
Retaliation finally came, considering he wasn’t doing much to mask his movements. He was used to being seen on the battlefield, as that had always been the point. The sense that an attack was imminent made him tense, and he threw his arm to stop the bolt in midair, which would give him time to back away out of range.
Except the bolt didn’t stop. Shock and pain lanced through his hip, one hand clamping down over it as he staggered backwards before falling onto the sand. Gritting his teeth, he lay flat, making himself as small as possible while cursing over the fact that his powers hadn’t stopped the bolt. The bullets had been easy, so why not these, too? His hand came back bloody when he pulled it away, but the shot wasn’t deep, and had mostly just grazed through his clothes and skin. He’d manage.
Struggling upright, Kylo retreated, heart pounding and teeth bared.
Kylo Ren | Star Wars | Veteran
Like much of his time spent in this prison, there was no opportunity to consider a change in scenery until it happened. Unlike the shifting of the cell walls or flashes of light that had come before, though, this one ended with an explosion and his sudden impact into cold mud. Kylo pushed himself upright immediately, disoriented and aching, trying to determine if this was another trick, or --
They were back. One quick glance told him all the other prisoners were here, back in Gallipolli, back in the middle of No Man’s Land. Not the worst place to be, but definitely not ideal. Kylo was up on his feet and running for the trenches before the first shot rang out, making him duck his shoulders. The power nullification of those cells was gone now, and he instinctively reached out with the Force, deflecting or avoiding bullets. Anyone running close enough to him might benefit from that protection as well.
The mud didn’t make it easy to run, nor did the rest of the hellish obstacles through No Man’s Land. Kylo practically slid over the edge of the trench, uncaring of how filthy he was and how much colder he’d be later. Once under the relative safety of the trench and friendly gunfire, he turned to find his nearest fellow escapee. “What happened?”
b. THE DESCENT
Kylo hadn’t kept track of the hours, or the days, when in that cell. It had been pointless, he thought, and they’d been forced to run on so little sleep the concept of time would have just been infuriating. Worse still when he’d been dumped into solitary once or twice, left alone with his own thoughts and -- memories. Things he’d seen with his own eyes and things Kebechet had thrust in front of him as a test.
Now there was plenty of activity to keep him occupied. No Regency agent was going to pull their punch if he crossed their path, so he was in as much real danger as everyone else here. There was hardly anything in the way of supplies, which kept him hungrier and nastier to anyone that approached him. They had to organize an actual escape, they had to enact it, they had to fulfill their mission parameters -- and he had to find Hux. As much as it pained him to admit they both had orders from higher up, it was true. Freedom from Snoke had lasted a laughably short amount of time, and now he and Hux had to stand shoulder to shoulder and grovel for favor. Again.
Kylo didn’t spent a lot of time approaching anyone else, or looking approachable in general. He’d seek someone out when his thoughts got too far mired in his own head, and he needed a reprieve. Once the evacuation actually started, Kylo carried as much as he could in way of supplies, stopping to pick up whatever looked useful along the way. They’d move a lot faster without the wounded, he knew, but that wasn’t the point, and he wasn’t in charge.
He slowed when something caught his eye, among the scattered notes or bottles of wine. It made no sense to him that someone could still have wine, all these weeks later, and then just decide to leave it behind for the enemy. It wasn’t wine or notes that he wanted to inspect, though, but instead a coat. It was brown, even under the mud, and for a half a second it looked like -- he closed his eyes, trying to banish the thought only to make it worse. Of course it wasn’t any coat Han had worn, it was hardly even close. Kebechet had managed to not only reopen that wound, but seemed to have crippled his ability to seal it again. He needed to get back into the procession, find something to occupy his mind again before it could wander off down this road again.
Kylo snatched up the coat, intent on throwing it out of sight, only to stop when he felt something solid in one of the pockets. Turning it out, a pair of dice fell into his open palm. His blood ran cold, and he dropped both the coat and dice as if they’d scalded his hands. Turning away, Kylo stomped back to his place in line, snapping: “What?” at anyone who watched him.
c. DAVID VS GOLIATH: THE FINAL ROUND
By now they’d spent so much time running Kylo considered it was a relief when he felt the hairs on his arms and the back of his neck rise, signaling the inevitable approach of the Regency. This time it was no holding back, and while he was missing his lightsaber, he could still lash out with the full force of his powers. Which, admittedly, was diminished -- but no less effective.
Kylo did as much damage as he could from a distance, which was not his preferred style. Once his rifle was out of ammo, he just threw it to the sand and abandoned it. He wasn’t going to need it once they left this beach, anyways. The agents, he already knew, would not be affected by anything he did with the Force against them directly. So he used whatever else was available, lifting it with the Force and launching it at them as hard as he was capable. He’d been stronger back home, but throwing an empty tent at a pair of them had worked fantastically as the cloth momentarily blinded and constrained them.
Retaliation finally came, considering he wasn’t doing much to mask his movements. He was used to being seen on the battlefield, as that had always been the point. The sense that an attack was imminent made him tense, and he threw his arm to stop the bolt in midair, which would give him time to back away out of range.
Except the bolt didn’t stop. Shock and pain lanced through his hip, one hand clamping down over it as he staggered backwards before falling onto the sand. Gritting his teeth, he lay flat, making himself as small as possible while cursing over the fact that his powers hadn’t stopped the bolt. The bullets had been easy, so why not these, too? His hand came back bloody when he pulled it away, but the shot wasn’t deep, and had mostly just grazed through his clothes and skin. He’d manage.
Struggling upright, Kylo retreated, heart pounding and teeth bared.
d. WILDCARD: DO WHAT U WANT