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WHO: Kylo Ren and YOU
WHAT: Day to day life; includes some training in the gallows, exploring Kirkwall and such
WHEN: Throughout the remainder of April/Cloudreach 9:44
WHERE: Gallows, Kirkwall, etc
NOTES: Nothing of note but I'll update if that changes

Gallows

With his lightsaber in hand, Kylo can be found training rigorously in various forms. He's careful to practice at a distance from anyone else, should they get too close. Starting his training, feet planted firmly and hand holding his weapon out as if to point it at an unseen target, he swings and swirls the lightsaber in his hands in fluid motions. Each time he avoids hitting the dummy directly, occasionally stopping his blade on either side of the target. The last thing he wanted to do every time he trained was to break a training dummy.

He focuses on more than just his blade work, however, practicing his breathing, the bend of his knees as he strikes, and keeping his body a firm immovable object against his opponent. Eventually he takes a break, brushing his messy shock of black hair from his eyes and shrugging his shoulders, the glowing red light withdrawn into the hilt once more.

During his point of resting, he stretches his arms, reaching down to his toes or crossing them one over the other to loosen each muscle. The rigors of training gave him something to channel his energy into, finding focus in his thoughts through the effort he expends with his blade.

Kirkwall

Having washed the sweat and grime from training away, Kylo can be found exploring the markets and other points of interest within Kirkwall. Lowtown was bustling with life as he browsed the Market District, winding streets drawing his attention now and again as he went from shop to shop. It was far from home, but it was starting to feel as such once the routine had set in.

Stopping at a food stall, Kylo turns over a piece of fruit with a careful gaze as he examines it for any flaws. Eventually he would make his way towards the the next shop, stopping to see the wares that Lowtown had to offer.

Wildcard

[ooc: Just hit me up on my journal or pm me at

wishuponthenightskies if you want to come up with a different prompt for us to do!]

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He isn't sure how he's managed to find himself in a position such as this, Rey at his side while the two of them walked through the Market district together. It had been a blurted out suggestion over breakfast. What possessed him to do it, he doesn't know. The one thing he did know was that he wanted to see where this went, just as she'd expressed before.

With his training out of the way, he went to meet her for their visit to the Market District. He wanted to explore and see more of their strange surroundings. He'd been to this Market alone but being accompanied by Rey made it feel different. They were slowly becoming different - or perhaps it was just him.

"Where to first?" He watched her reactions to everything they saw, as if he could piece together the thoughts that went through her head when it came to him. It would be easy to see right into her mind through their connection in the Force but it ruined some of the mystery of guessing.

Rey loves the market, and that's fairly evident on her face. The movement of the people, coming and going, caught up in their days. Lowtown has some of that hopeless air that Niima did, but it's not quite the same, more alive, almost. Her companion today is a little different than usual, people are used to seeing her with a large white mabari at her side, not a tall dark-haired human. Still she moves like she belongs here, giving familiar faces brief smiles.

"We'll stop in just up ahead, I like to check this place and see what she's gotten in. Sometimes it's garbage, but sometimes she has good things," she offers in response to Ben's question, looking over at him and giving him a smile.

"Gracious me ... you're a Jedi!" Comes the pleased response of a mature woman in her thirties, delight lighting up her brown eyes and the dimples on her cheeks. She is carrying a basket over one arm, an elaborate staff on her back, and perhaps the world's ugliest dog on a simple lead. She's also wearing a particular kind of Griffon armor.

"I never thought I would see one of your kind again, not since Obi Wan left." She beams at the younger man, before holding out her hand in greeting, "Bethany Hawke-Darton, serah Jedi. Pleasure to meet you."

He bristles internally at her comparison to Obi-Wan - specifically her confusing him for Jedi. Yet she was clearly trying to be friendly. For a moment he stares down at the offered hand, his gaze moving up to take note of her armor and then he meets her beaming face.

"Kylo Ren." He speaks and then raises a hand to take hers. "I'm not- I'm not a Jedi, though. Don't call me that. Please."

His lips are already pressed into a thin line, showing his displeasure at the word. As if he could ever be considered a Jedi. Once, he had been trained in the art, but now the memory just left him with a bitterness that caught in his throat like bile.

And, Obi-Wan watches all of this with the critical eye of a lifelong duelist. He waited, for patience too was a Jedi virtue, along with flexibility; it was somewhat dangerous to approach the boy here, without Rey to act as a buffer. But then, they could hardly avoid one another forever.

"Your teachers have done you no favors," He observes, when Kylo pauses to stretch. Sand-colored robes against sandstone pillars: Obi-Wan wasn't hiding, not really. Just hanging back, "Have they?"

And Kylo squares his shoulders when he senses the Jedi's approach. He regards him, equal parts curious and on edge. It wasn't as if he was looking to fight him again but he couldn't feel truly at ease around him either.

"Considering my first Master received the majority of his instruction from an alien in a swamp, I'd say I do well enough with what teaching I was given." He's being sarcastic of course. He doesn't want to care what Obi Wan thinks. He crosses his arms almost defensively as he sizes the Jedi Master up.

"Why does it matter to you? If there was something wrong in my technique I'm open to suggestions." Not really, but he wants to hear the rest of what Obi-Wan might have to say.

Obi-Wan listened, all the way through, without interrupting. With every word, his eyebrows climbed a little higher until he was receiving the last of Kylo's extraordinary speech with an expression of such concentrated blase that even when the boy had finished, it took him some moments to respond.

"I presume you are referring to Grandmaster Yoda, a Jedi of some nine-hundred years experience, and who offered their first training to tens of thousands of Jedi younglings in the creche?" To say he wasn't impressed would be an understatement. An alien in a swamp, "The way you put it, I have to wonder why you're defending what you learned from humans. Clearly, neither has actually given you what you need."

Like a good kick in the pants, maybe.

But Obi-Wan considers what he's seen. What's wrong with his technique? Aside from most of it, the truth is that Obi-Wan can hardly say. He hasn't a great deal of sympathy for Kylo Ren, but for Ben Solo? He'll try to start gently.

"Your feet, for one. The stance is too wide, it forces you to minimalize your reach-- you have enough to compensate, but it's your best strength, you should emphasize it. You never learned any formal style I'd recognize, aside from the most basic, did you? That's unsurprising."

His expression when regarding Obi-wan was stern for a moment, as if he wanted to say more about exactly the type of teacher Luke had been, that it could be Yoda's doing too. He wondered how much Rey had told him, if anything. He wanted to throw it in his face, to make him hurt with the knowledge that the Jedi he loved so much were just as cruel to a young boy as any Sith. If anything, the wound hurt more given that the one who had hurt him so much was his family.

Instead of all of that, he relaxes the tension in his shoulders and looks down at his feet before adjusting them, removing his blade from his belt once more. If Obi-wan was in the mood to instruct him, he was listening. He didn't know why except for the fact that Rey had spoken of Obi-wan with such joy, as if she had found a teacher who understood her the way a student should be understood by their master.

He'd never had that with either of his masters. With Luke he had been lead to fear his own growing strength, marred by the darkness Snoke had implanted in him like a seed that grew and grew. With Snoke he had been taught to suppress the love he'd had for his family, destroying himself from the inside out until he'd destroyed the thing he loved the most: his father. Despite how disappointed he'd been by his family, he loved them still.

"What else?" His tone has none of the bite or anger that broils inside of him like a hot coal. His gaze lifts from his feet to Obi-Wan, waiting.

They'd already made the plan for her to meet him so she could do more of the training that he'd talked her into before. She knew that it was a good idea and it had at least gotten her to talk to Loghain about taking him up on his offer as well, so that maybe, between the two of them, she wouldn't end up in some kind of regrettable situation like she so often did at home.

What she didn't expect to get to see was a cool light show. She'd seen a lightsaber once thanks to Rey, but she hadn't seen it in action. Just lit up and humming steadily until she'd shut off before Chloe could touch it like an idiot. So watching him swing it around, semi-impressed even though she's not sure how good lightsaber fighting is supposed to look. Regardless, it's pretty neat to watch, and she waits until he takes a break before she let's him know she's there, since it seems like the kind of thing that'd be a little dangerous to just bust in on.

"... That was awesome."

Obi-Wan blinks. He wasn't expecting... that, whatever that was. Quietude. Acceptance.

"Most of what you're doing is off-balance. Your lightsaber isn't well aligned, and the crystal is cracked. It must take a great deal of effort to wield, is that right?" He's certain it is, having handled the weapon himself. No one chooses to swing such a weightless weapon with that much force, not unless they're trying to make some other point, "Lightsaber forms predate the Jedi Order, and they've existed that long for a reason, but something tells me you weren't given exactly that kind of formal instruction."

He steps a little close, almost curious. The boy definitely had reach, there's no denying it. But his movement, jerking, wide smooth arcs that took whole seconds to wind up to, and to recover from-- he was as aggressive as any vapaad master could want, but without the requisite control...

"You need to work with your lightsaber and yourself, not against either. Have you ever heard of Ataaru? The Fourth Form."

"It's like that because I made it that way. You know that the Sith and Jedi differ in their methods. I forced it to bend to my will." This had come after he'd already gone to the trouble of bonding with it in the first place during his Jedi training. Bleeding it, bending the blade to his will, was more akin to an act of self injury when he was already bonded to it. That was what caused it to crack. The two competing parts of himself had overwhelmed it, fracturing the crystal. He shouldn't have to explain that to Obi-Wan, he thinks.

"I don't believe so. The name isn't something I've heard." He had studied with him for years so it stood to reason that he at least had learned it. He doesn't remember much from that time, already mired in so much darkness from Snoke's influence that time seemed to blur as he struggled to stay afloat from it before it devoured him.

Edited 2018-04-21 22:58 (UTC)

His own smile makes an appearance, though it was just a small curl in the corners of his lips. Seeing her joy put him at ease even as he felt awkward as people familiar with Rey greeted her as they went. He almost couldn't resist the urge to take her hand as they moved to where she lead him. The thought left his mind as quickly as it entered it, leaving embarrassment at his own sentimentality behind.

"What are you making this time?" He's curious, having only seen her room on a handful of occasions. He could only guess what she was piecing together.

Edited 2018-04-21 23:56 (UTC)

He had been concentrating hard enough that he had missed Chloe's approach or that she had been watching him. He looks up at her when she speaks, surprise raising his brows. He had impressed her? The thought actually made him swell with pride. Most feared him or were uneasy by his presence. Training was how he channeled those things and his own self depreciating thoughts into something useful.

"You think so?" He finished stretching his arms and flexing his wrists, the weight of his swings wearing on him somewhat in the aftermath. He had worried he'd gotten sloppy without a constant target to fight. Clearly it was misplaced.

"Have you not seen one before?" He knows surely Rey must be well known around here, if not her then Obi-Wan. Their blue blades were far less imposing than the sizzle and crackle of his own red, unstable, weapon.

She catches that thought and bites back another smile, considering reaching out to take his hand, but they're close enough to the shop that she wouldn't have been holding it long anyway. Just the fact that he'd thought about it though, fills her with a warmth and makes her walk a little lighter.

Ducking into the shop that's filled from floor to ceiling with clutter Rey hums in response to his question, turning off to the side with a practiced motion.

"I'm still working on a few things for the Obstacle course, but I never know when I'll find something new." She's always on the look-out for things to occupy her time.

Their bond worked both ways, of course. He knows that she knows and feeling her emotions lift in response only serves to make the tips of his ears flush in embarrassment. While he doesn't take her hand, he does stay close to her until they reach the shop.

"Ah. I could probably help if you need it." It didn't seem to matter what he did. He wanted to spend time with her. Eventually, when they find themselves browsing their first stop, his hand moves to her lower back in concession to their earlier thoughts bouncing between them. It wasn't her hand but it was still intimate enough for him.

She hesitates at his sharp look, but her smile stays on. She shakes his hand, firm and tight. The tight and pained expression on his face ... well, sympathy wells up. She's not sure why being called a Jedi was so painful, but she didn't want to hurt a complete stranger.

"Oh, I am sorry, Serah Ren. I shall mind my p's and q's."

"I'd like that a lot," she replies to his offer, smiling as she glances at him. The thought of him working with her on one of her projects, not just the obstacle course, it's nice. She's so used to doing things on her own, but opening up these parts of her life to others, to him, specifically... She could get used to it.

The hand on her lower back surprises her a little as she navigates around piles of junk, but she doesn't brush him off. Rather she purses her lips, trying not to smile and only half succeeding.

"No, it's fine. I just- I'm not a Jedi. Not like Obi-wan, anyway." He comes up with the hasty explanation, not wanting her to be offended. He didn't know why it mattered if she was, probably for the same reasons it mattered that he didn't want to be called a Jedi. The distinction was important to him.

"Where Obi-Wan and I are from, I'm called a Sith Apprentice." Was he technically a Master now that he had killed his own? He didn't know. It sounded wrong as he said it. He certainly didn't feel like a Master. The only thing he knew for sure was he was absolutely not a Jedi. He wanted nothing more than for both religions to die.

"Good. I don't want to get in your way." He'd been grasping for something to say, glad that she still smiled at him and glad that she was just as happy to spend time with him as he was with her. He knew that she had gotten as used to solitude as he had. It seemed that much more important to cast that part of their lives aside because they didn't have to be alone anymore.

Absently his hand lays flat to her back before curling his fingers and withdrawing again but not before those knuckles brush up her spine an inch. The last thing he wanted was to be inappropriate while they were out in public. He doesn't miss her trying not to smile and it only makes him struggle not to smile as well.

Instead he focuses on picking up a piece of scrap metal to turn over in his hands - it wasn't anything special but it kept his mind from staying completely on her. Every so often his gaze lifts to her again, watching as she inspects different wares. Just the sight of her was enough to stop his breath for a second. He couldn't understand why she had chosen him, even as it was clear to him why he should choose her every time.

This girl who he'd discarded so easily as just some scavenger who got under his skin was so much more. He'd woken that morning marveling at her warmth, the way her hair smelled and her even breaths as she slept, and now he was marveling that it was him she smiled for. It was disarming and radiant, just as she carried herself naturally. He couldn't help but watch her, having these thoughts filter through his mind. It made him want to touch her again, just to see her look up at him again.

There was also a darker part of his thoughts that drifted to the previous evening's activities, how close he'd gotten to pushing things if he'd just - but he pushes that right out of his head as it comes. He wouldn't push for more than this. It was simple and more than he deserved.

Rey's shoulders bunch when he runs his knuckles up her spine that little bit, the tingle running all the way up her back. She gives him a glance before moving away as he looks at things, her own browsing moving in to her carefully scanning things for value.

Or, ordinarily, this would be the only task she'd be focusing on. But his thoughts keep invading her mind, making her blush as she picks up a dusty old hand mirror, catching her reflection as he's thinking about touching her. She doesn't entirely know what he sees in her, even when his thoughts are drifting into her mind unbidden.

She inhales sharply as his thoughts get darker, as fleeting as they are, and she puts the mirror back, turning around to look at him, eyebrows raised. She won't say anything, but the words form clear in her mind. You're thinking too loud.

There's no denying the flush on her face, though, the thoughts not wholly unwelcome just, more than she can handle at the moment. She's overwhelmed by the prospect of someone who desires her.

"I think I'm done looking here, if you are," she says, a little too blithely as she moves back towards him, her hands tucked into the pockets of her cloak.

He sucks in a breath as her thoughts answer him and for a moment he fears that she might be angry at him. If he could just shut off this back and forth exchange of thoughts he would. He liked having his thoughts be his own and not being able to made him over think each and every one of them.

He drops the piece of metal he had supposed to have been turning over in his hands as if he's been burned by it, looking up at her with guilt and hesitance. She might not sound angry but he only needed to look into her thoughts to find out.

"I-sorry-yes." He couldn't even stammer out complete sentences as he realizes he's been caught. I'm sorry, he thinks again, hoping she'll hear it. He sees the flush in her cheeks and, as much as it pleased him, worries that he's overstepped without meaning to. Without her hands to reach for he can only shove his own into his pockets as well as he tries not to feel so guilty.

Edited 2018-04-22 03:48 (UTC)

There's something endearing about seeing the nefarious Kylo Ren stammering and looking guilty in front of her. She even feels a little guilty herself, because she knows he should be allowed to think what he wants to think in his own mind. Especially after he's been denied that for so long.

Taking pity on him she pulls one hand out of her pocket, wrapping it around his arm so she can guide him out of the store and back onto the street. She keeps her arm tucked in his even as they walk, as much to show him that she's forgiven him as to indulge herself a little.

"You shouldn't have to censor your thoughts, maybe we can work on shielding things from each other, without... closing everything off." She doesn't know how that would work, but she knows they have time to try to figure it out.

"You aren't the one who went too far. I don't have to worry about your thoughts." Or did he? Thus far hers are innocent by comparison and he's had to remember that he honestly doesn't know what he's doing despite his thoughts. They had been fumbling around the night before, neither of them sure of where any of this was headed even if he entertained thoughts.

"And I don't mind you knowing how I feel." He stopped walking long enough to hold her in place, his hand resting over hers where she held his arm. The look he gave her was one of intense want to be understood, to know that she felt the same even. Wherever this was going, he wanted to walk the path with her, not racing miles ahead at his own pace.

"If I need to... think about something else, I'll try to." The last thing he wanted was to make her uncomfortable.

This is such an awkward conversation to be having in public, and the embarrassment is clear on Rey's face, as she struggles to meet his gaze. She does like things being so open between them, it makes it clear where they stand at any given moment. It's not something she's used to. She's also not used to being wanted in such a way, or in wanting someone else in that way.

"I don't mind," she says quietly, the blush in her cheeks deepening as she looks up at him. "I like knowing how you feel. I like you knowing how I feel."

Already he was mentally kicking himself for stopping her. If anyone over heard - but he couldn't worry about that. He let her hand go, letting her hold onto his arm if she wished. He guides them off to the side, hopefully away from prying eyes or listening ears.

"Sorry. I'm not good at turning my thoughts off with you. It was easy when it was Snoke lurking in my head, always there, but with you... I don't feel like I have this weight lurking in the back of my head, waiting to use my thoughts against me. My thoughts are my own. Even when sometimes you might hear them." And it was so freeing that he had apparently forgotten how to control them. He ducks his head a bit, equally embarrassed as she is.

"I'll do better, I promise." They had talked about what their connection would mean, how they could control it, once before. He didn't want it to eventually become a problem. The fact that she says she doesn't mind how he feels is enough to lift the weight from his shoulders, but he didn't want to abuse the trust she had in him.

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