Ryoko (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
dreamer_ryoko) wrote2016-03-25 07:05 pm
dreamer_ryoko) wrote2016-03-25 07:05 pm
Monster Kyloooooo
Only one person in the First Order knew of Kylo Ren's true nature: Supreme Leader Snoke.
There were rumors, of course. That the man behind the mask wasn't a man, but that he wasn't another species either, not really—that he was something twisted, something ugly, like the dark side had corrupted him more fully than their esteemed Supreme Leader. Maybe that was why he was so powerful, some mused. It was probably why he was so unstable, others said. Some troopers scared young trainees with stories of Kylo Ren, the clawed, sharp-toothed monster that could rip out your heart if you even had a single thought of disobeying orders. And he could absolutely read your mind.
But they were just rumors. Stupid fancies created by feeble minds. General Hux had seen Kylo Ren's face, anyway, just earlier that day, and it was nothing to scare children with. If anything, he looked particularly young, perhaps surprisingly so—then again, given the occasional unnecessary destruction the force user caused with his lightsaber, maybe Hux thought the boyish face matched his behavior perfectly.
No one could have expected at that point in time that he'd be sent out to retrieve the knight as the planet collapsed.
Ren lay in the snow, for once covered in his own blood instead of the blood of others, his right arm hardly functioning and his mind in too much of a mess to bolster himself with the Force. He continued to reach feebly for his lightsaber anyway, even though there was no real way to reach it. A part of his mind realized the futility of struggling to do anything, that the rift that opened between him and the scavenger was soon going to swallow him as well and end his miserable existence. Or so he thought.
When Hux reached him in the shuttle, he'd be lying mostly still, head turned towards his fallen saber as he breathed shallowly. His robe was half carved open, a lightsaber slice to his right shoulder allowing the wind to blow the piece of fabric away and reveal the iridescent black-red of the skin underneath, more reptilian than human. But even though that almost scaly texture reached down his chest and up to his jawline, the cut on the side of his right sleeve showed burnt blackish fur, the same color of his hair. It was just enough to give the idea of how odd the amalgamation of features was—and that wasn't including the sharp teeth that showed past the knight's half-open mouth.
There were rumors, of course. That the man behind the mask wasn't a man, but that he wasn't another species either, not really—that he was something twisted, something ugly, like the dark side had corrupted him more fully than their esteemed Supreme Leader. Maybe that was why he was so powerful, some mused. It was probably why he was so unstable, others said. Some troopers scared young trainees with stories of Kylo Ren, the clawed, sharp-toothed monster that could rip out your heart if you even had a single thought of disobeying orders. And he could absolutely read your mind.
But they were just rumors. Stupid fancies created by feeble minds. General Hux had seen Kylo Ren's face, anyway, just earlier that day, and it was nothing to scare children with. If anything, he looked particularly young, perhaps surprisingly so—then again, given the occasional unnecessary destruction the force user caused with his lightsaber, maybe Hux thought the boyish face matched his behavior perfectly.
No one could have expected at that point in time that he'd be sent out to retrieve the knight as the planet collapsed.
Ren lay in the snow, for once covered in his own blood instead of the blood of others, his right arm hardly functioning and his mind in too much of a mess to bolster himself with the Force. He continued to reach feebly for his lightsaber anyway, even though there was no real way to reach it. A part of his mind realized the futility of struggling to do anything, that the rift that opened between him and the scavenger was soon going to swallow him as well and end his miserable existence. Or so he thought.
When Hux reached him in the shuttle, he'd be lying mostly still, head turned towards his fallen saber as he breathed shallowly. His robe was half carved open, a lightsaber slice to his right shoulder allowing the wind to blow the piece of fabric away and reveal the iridescent black-red of the skin underneath, more reptilian than human. But even though that almost scaly texture reached down his chest and up to his jawline, the cut on the side of his right sleeve showed burnt blackish fur, the same color of his hair. It was just enough to give the idea of how odd the amalgamation of features was—and that wasn't including the sharp teeth that showed past the knight's half-open mouth.