Poe "Fite Me" Dameron (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
flightforfreedom) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
maskormenacelogs2019-02-13 12:27 am
flightforfreedom) wrote in maskormenacelogs2019-02-13 12:27 am
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(no subject)
WHO: Poe and Kylo
WHERE: The Aquarium
WHEN: Backdated to the day of Bodhi's Death ( the 6th I think?)
WHAT: Tense Discussions
WARNINGS: Uh possible discussion of murder, torture, etc, etc
The aquarium wasn't super crowded, but it was far from empty. Poe stood in front of the fish tank, glowering at the fish like they'd personally betrayed him, hands clasped behind his back. He was fidgeting, waiting, a ball of energy he couldn't contain.
But he was waiting.
WHERE: The Aquarium
WHEN: Backdated to the day of Bodhi's Death ( the 6th I think?)
WHAT: Tense Discussions
WARNINGS: Uh possible discussion of murder, torture, etc, etc
The aquarium wasn't super crowded, but it was far from empty. Poe stood in front of the fish tank, glowering at the fish like they'd personally betrayed him, hands clasped behind his back. He was fidgeting, waiting, a ball of energy he couldn't contain.
But he was waiting.
no subject
Weighed against the secret he now carried, it was a memory that no longer seemed to fit- he'd been so desperately alone, here, surrounded by tangible absence and failed, broken connections, struggling to understand what it might mean to exist here with nothing familiar to hold onto.
He wasn't alone now.
As confused and uncertain about his role as he had ever been, perhaps. Frightened by the prospect of choosing a shape to grow into for himself, and the very real possibility that he might fail in the attempt, yes. At times. More of the time than he cared to admit.
But he wasn't alone.
With little pause beyond the occasional wave of his hand and accompanying imposition of his will to redirect the attentions of anyone who considered blocking his path, Kylo closed in on Dameron's location with long, unhurried strides, the potential for so much violence and so much more than violence humming under his skin.
"Dameron," he said, announcing his arrival from several paces away. All that useless, furious energy, barely hidden under the surface. Hurt. Anger. Hatred. It felt hideously familiar.
"Let's talk about peace."
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His face was just as grim as the rest of him that bled out into the Force.
“Ren.” His lips were drawn into a tight line. “Fair warning, if you try making it out like his actions don’t matter, it won’t be peace we’ll be talking about.”
no subject
Who did Dameron think he was, playing at warnings and ultimatums as if Kylo Ren was something he had tamed, as if he'd turned the monster of his nightmares into something he could manipulate with threats?
"What do you think this is?" Kylo asked, his gaze steady even as irritation began to stir itself slowly into the smooth, level tone of his voice. Around them, the air began to thicken by degrees, a heavy, oppressive pressure climbing as he spoke.
"Do you think I am here to receive orders? To heed your warnings? To listen to your demands? No. No, we are going to talk about peace. My peace. The peace that we will have because I choose it."
no subject
In the end, it didn't matter. What he suffered just simply didn't matter at all. He'd take another ten deaths, if it would save Bodhi the pain of even half of one.
"Yeah, I think you should heed my warnings, if you want to choose your peace." Flatly. "Because he's pretty damn determined to break it for you."
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"You will heed mine. What did you think would happen, bringing old crimes to the attention of the authorities after all this time and neglecting to mention your own?"
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"Why do you think I'm talking to you and not the police?" Bluntly. "But if push comes to shove and the only way to protect the people I care about is to go down with him, I will. I'll sit in a prison cell for the rest of my life here if it took that."
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"It wasn't you," he murmured, drawing closer still until Dameron was forced to tip his chin up to keep that defiant stare constant. "Was it. Someone else set this in motion."
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"Yeah. Fucking Hux set this in motion. By not being able to keep his murderous hands to himself. We were doing just fine. We even had imperials over for Thanksgiving. And I am not in the mood to see him break the truce because he's - what - heartbroken? Pent up? Bored?"
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"One of your friends decided to alert the authorities," Kylo explained slowly, almost patiently. "Having him declared a wanted criminal. This is his response."
He shook his head, irritably. Hux's motivations were irrelevant. All of this was irrelevant.
"It's unimportant. Listen to me carefully, Dameron, because I will not be repeating myself. I am no-one's enforcer. Not yours, not his. I have stayed my hand through my own choice. You, your friends. You breathe because I allow it. Hux breathes because I allow it. The peace I have granted you isn't his, or yours, to break. It will continue as long as I choose it."
A strange, unearthly glow had begun to crackle over Kylo's skin as he spoke, growing with intensity to match the certainty in his voice- and while it was quite unlike the boiling menace of Kylo's will stirring through the Force, it was undeniably power.
A power more than ready to be used.
"Am I understood."
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"First thing I heard about anything was when it came up on the majority report - pretty sure Hux is perfectly capable of getting himself in trouble without any of us involved. And thanks. For allowing me to breathe. Like you don't perfectly well know you aren't the ultimate power in this universe. Your allowance didn't stop Bodhi getting killed, did it?" Bluntly.
He tilted his head, brows furrowed deeply as he stared at Kylo. "You're stuck here exactly the same way I am." He said finally, tersely. "And if you feel like breaking this amazing peace you've granted, I'll be happy to sit with you in a jail cell while you find out what it feels like to not be able to break people's lives with a thought."
multi-paragraph villainous monologue incoming
And then he moved, fluid and heavy as molten glass. He reached out a hand to grasp Poe by the jaw, seizing him and leaning in, the new fire in his eyes dancing as if delighted by the prospect of being loosed. All it would take for the restless potential of this moment to transform into something wild, electric, vivid and breathtakingly violent was for Kylo to choose it.
"Can you feel how tempted I am to indulge you, right now?" he asked smoothly as he straightened up, dragging Dameron's face up with him. His voice was artificially steady, a dam holding back the deluge, and even as Poe was held almost suspended by it, his grip didn't tighten by even the barest fraction. It clearly ached to. "To finally give you what you want? You know I could do it. As you said. With a thought. I could crush you, everything that you are, into dust. I could tear you to shreds. It would cost me no more effort than imagining it. Nothing more than willing it done.
Yes... you feel it. I am tempted. I am. But not for the reasons you imagine. What would I gain beyond the brief satisfaction of allowing all this to flow through me? We both know if your pain was worth anything to me, if I wanted your suffering, your destruction, I would already have it. No. No, you have nothing to give me. Nothing I want. It's tempting to give you what you expect, not because I would enjoy it, but because it seems the only way you will understand the futility of trying to control me with threats is if I demonstrate how little I care for them. Look at me. Do you see it? Nothing that you, your friends, or the authorities of this world could do would be enough to stop me, if I wanted you dead. Nothing. Is it fear of a punishment even you know to be meaningless that spares your life now, Dameron? Is it?"
Kylo seemed wreathed in invisible flame as he held Poe in place, though it wasn't the heat of fire that licked at his skin. Kylo was possessed by- and in possession of- something that defied definition. He was inspired in the ancient sense of the word.
He released his hold.
no subject
He was silent for several seconds after he was released, raising a hand to carefully work his jaw.
“It’s cute you think I give half a damn whether or not you kill me.” There was no false bravado in his voice, nothing but an even, measured flatness. “It means about as much as it evidently means to you.” No barbs in his voice.
Finally he sighed, just fucking tired.
“You’re looking at the wrong damn person if you’re looking for people who are trying to control you. Hux has been wielding you like a threat since you got here. You don’t seem to give a shit about anything other than shitty people. So, what? Am I supposed to be intimidated by you? Am I supposed to thank you for not killing me? All I care about at this point is if he was telling the truth. I don’t give a shit what you do, or threaten to do, with me. But I’m done with him hurting my friends because he fucking feels like it, and I’m done worrying about you being the tool he uses to do it.”