Kylo (IT'S NOT A PHASE, DAD) Ren (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
killthepast) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
riverviewlogs2018-02-14 10:27 pm
killthepast) wrote in riverviewlogs2018-02-14 10:27 pm
serving multiple gunshot wound realness [closed]
who: Kylo Ren and Various
what: Catch-all for February/March things while Kylo recovers from getting shot up in a street by some COMMON CRIMINALS (it was Poe and John). Mostly for threads that have already been planned, but feel free to poke me somewhere if you'd like me to put up a starter for you.
when: February & March
where: Mostly a skeevy motel
warnings: References to violence and torture
what: Catch-all for February/March things while Kylo recovers from getting shot up in a street by some COMMON CRIMINALS (it was Poe and John). Mostly for threads that have already been planned, but feel free to poke me somewhere if you'd like me to put up a starter for you.
when: February & March
where: Mostly a skeevy motel
warnings: References to violence and torture
no subject
[ Please. Not a fanatic like Poe Dameron. Winning is all that matters to him, not inconvenient notions like 'fairness' or 'honor.'
(Yes, this is the goth calling the kettle black.) ]
I--
[ He purses his lips and glowers back at Poe. HOW DARE YOU CALL OUT HIS PERFECTLY NORMAL SPEECH PATTERNS. ]
No it's not!
[ Dial back the petulance there, Kylo. He advances on the pilot, even as his body protests, and his left arm is clearly just about useless. Not the most intimidating, but whatever!! ]
Now leave.
no subject
[ FREE SHRUGS.
Though, honestly, Poe was planning on leaving. He just doesn't want Kylo Ren to think it's because of him, because Poe is Poe, and sometimes that means Poe is twelve.
And he's not going back the way he came. He's going to keep walking the path that skirts Ren's bench. (Adrenaline junkie that he is, danger addict, man without either of those things here to keep him sane.) ]
It's a public park.
[ Yes, that choice of words was very, very intentional. Even though the last time he said that he ended up in the hospital shh details.
He's wired, electric with awareness of Kylo Ren and any move Ren might make, when he passes the bench at the closest point on the path.
That's when it hits Ren:
Cuffs securing his wrists, a rough dragging at his shoulder. Trying to take in as many details as he possibly can as the First Order goon hauls him to wherever it is that they do their dirty work.
He gets slammed back onto the interrogation table, buckled in, and left alone to think about what the First Order can do. And he does. His imagination runs wild, brutalizes him in every way imaginable, presents him with the nightmare of being broken and giving everything up.
He won't do it. He won't.
The interrogator is a black-clad woman with skin as pale and ashy as bone and eyes that convince him without a shadow of a doubt that she's never known the meaning of kindness.
"Where is the map that Lor San Tekka gave you?"
He licks his lips. His tongue almost as dry as his mouth. "Shoved it up Snoke's ass on the way here."
The neuroshock hits him with paralytic force, his mind going blank, his muscles seizing. He arches with pain, making a high-pitched noise deep in his throat, every nerve ending on fire.
It stops. He collapses. It's tempting to weep from the pain, but all he does is lick his lips again.
"What does a guy have to do to get some water around here?"
"Silence, rebel scum. Where is the map?"
His heart pounds. He braces himself.
"Can't tell you. I'm being silent."
The world goes white. The restraints are the only thing that keep him from bucking his way off the table. He's screaming, maybe, but he can't really tell. Not until the neuroshock stops and he collapses back against the table again, the sounds he was making trailing off into silence.
"You will break."
"Lady." He smiles, tasting blood in his mouth. Must've bit his tongue. "I could do this all day."
She punches him in the side of the head.
It doesn't end. The beatings continue, in between neuroshock, electrocution, vibroblade cuts across his abdomen and sides. He screams until he loses his voice, and keeps screaming without making a sound. They tip the table backwards, pour water down his nose and mouth while his torturer taunts him for being thirsty.
Where is the map, where is the map, where is the map.
He'll die with those words in his head.
After a while, he goes numb. They keep at it. Small blades shoved under his nails. Force pikes pressed against his stomach until he smells hair and skin burn. They keep going and he stops screaming, retreating to some undiscovered place in his head where pain can't find him.
And then there's silence. It sinks in like blood into cloth. No pain but what's already been inflicted. No questions but the echoes in his own mind.
The door to the room hisses open, and he doesn't move. He doesn't move until a black-clad nightmare with a voice changer says, "I had no idea we had the best pilot in the Resistance on board." ]
no subject
And this time, he won't hold back. Anything Poe can do with his fists or his blaster, Ren can return tenfold with the Force. And he's prepared for the pilot, impulsive fool that he is, to strike.
What he doesn't anticipate is an invasion, tendrils of another's memories reaching into his mind and coiling around his own thoughts, suffocating them, growing over them. In an instant, it's as if he's the one strapped to the interrogation table, and it's all so familiar, but wrong, because this-- this never happened to him. He's endured more than his share of pain and torment in Snoke's lessons, but they were for the purpose of making him stronger, not breaking him.
And there's a part of him that wants to scream, the way he-- no, Poe-- is screaming in his mind, in the experiences that he's now experiencing. But he doesn't, because he's strong and capable of enduring, as Snoke taught him.
It's clear, however, in his eyes, wide and actually afraid as he looks at Poe, even while he isn't quite seeing him. ]
What are you doing? [ As he sees himself enter the room, he knows what's coming next. And, as ever with Kylo Ren, that fear quickly mutates into rage, coming to him so naturally that it might as well be a reflex when he reaches out to grab Poe with the Force, his teeth bared in a vicious snarl. ] Stop!
no subject
[ He's also confused. He has no idea what Ren is seeing, hearing, feeling. All he knows is that's fear on the other man's face, and he seems to think Poe is the cause of it.
It feels good, no matter how wrong Kylo is. ]
And I was walking.
[ Stupid, he thinks. That voice modder is so stupid.
He finally raises his head, and it's the heaviest thing he's ever moved in his life. Locks his focus on the mask to keep himself conscious and present.
"Comfortable?" Kylo Ren says.
"Not really."
"I'm impressed." Ren paces forward, step by slow step, and the low buzz of wariness turns into fear. "No one has been able to get out of you what you did. With the map."
He can't smile. They beat that out of him an hour ago. "Might want to rethink your technique."
He'll regret those words forever.
Ren raises his hand. Every story about Jedi, Sith, the Force, comes pouring back. Mind tricks. Manipulation.
He's not ready. He tries to be, he tries, but he can feel the spiked probing at his thoughts, the intrusion of something foreign in his mind. His breathing hitches. The intrusion brings a new kind of pain, one that goes deeper than bone.
His head snaps back and hits the table and he sees stars, loses ground against the thing trying to break him. Darkness, a power he's always believed existed but never truly felt until now. It wants to crack him open, eat him alive, and he's broiling inside his own head.
"Where is it?"
He struggles toward the room, the distant vision of Kylo Ren, both seeming miles away now, untouchable. He's surprised he can breathe, let alone speak. The words are torture to force past his tongue.
"The Resistance. Will not be intimidated by you."
He's dragged forward as far as the table's restraints will allow, pain in his wrists like a gentle pinch compared to the agony in his mind. He tries to tell himself it isn't real, it's a trick, he can't possibly hurt this badly without being touched, but he's losing his grip. The room is gone. Instead there's Tuanul, the cold of a nighttime desert, the kindness of Lor San Tekka.
"Where. Is it."
Stormtroopers. Dying civilians. God, he tries, he tries to keep the memories from unfolding again, but every part of himself, every thought, every emotion is being violated by pain and shadows. He screams with rage and agony, a useless sound that he can't even hear.
I'll come back for you.
Failure.
The pain releases him. He crumples back against the table, eyes fluttering closed, spent and feeling the aftershocks of mental and physical torture. A headache starts at the base of his skull and pounds in every bruise and bump across his scalp.
Failure.
He's betrayed them. Lor San Tekka. BB-8. Luke. Leia, god, Leia. She trusted him with this.
Failure.
He can't lift his head again. There's nothing left in him. He's empty, hope an ember ground out by the Dark. Nothing there now but the expectation of death. The desperate wish that he'd died before he could give anything up.
They got what they wanted. He broke.
I'm sorry, he thinks. To no one. No one will ever know how hard he tried to protect them. All they'll ever know is that he failed. ]
no subject
It sickens him not because he can't stomach Dameron's weakness, but because he knows failure and betrayal and desperation too well. And more than anything, it's the surge of empathy, trying to break past his hatred, that sickens him.
So he does about what Poe might expect him to do: he uses the Force to throw him to the ground, breaking the mental link. Now, he has the freedom to think clearly, and he moves over Poe, glaring down at him, trying not to show how shaken he is. But he's miserable at masking his own emotions. Always has been.
His voice is cold, and harsh, with an air of accusation: ]
Did you see anything?
[ Had the connection only been one-sided? ]
no subject
Poe stares up at Kylo, as clearly bewildered as Ren is shaken. ]
See what?
[ Some Force-driven vision? Hallucination? Did he just catch this guy on an even worse day than usual? IE WHAT THE FUCK, KYLE. ]
no subject
I saw through your eyes. For your sake, I'd suggest you plug whatever leak is in your mind.
[ It's an attempt at saving face, as if Poe's the one with the problem here. He succeeds in keeping his voice level, if nothing else. Releasing the pilot, he adds: ] Unless you wish for me to see everything.
no subject
Did Kylo Ren just give him advice?
Yeah, it was couched in a threat, but the words "for your sake" definitely just came out of Kylo Ren's mouth.
Poe rolls to his feet and backs away, hand on the arguably useless gun at his hip. This doesn't make sense. The other times it's been an invasion, a clear intrusion, the feeling of something hideous and foreign digging into his brain. This time--nothing. Nothing at all.
Not knowing when someone's in his mind is even scarier than being forced open. ]
What'd you see?
no subject
ANYWAY.
He's just going to leave Poe with those words. Kylo has the upper hand here, totally!! ]