inappropriately timed force bond moments (both nsfw and humor approaches)
dream-sharing
emotional bleed/transference (from rey, involving other parties)
inappropriate force bond voyeurism on rey/poe or rey/finn
mid-conversation force bond interruption
The Rise of Skywalker- Cross-galaxy chase of the Resistance
anything related to ben solo, but especially:
snoke confessionals with family or friends of family
returning to the light
smuggler life style
jedi knight ben
resistance-fighter ben
The Rise of Skywalker- Force Ghost communications w/ Rey
anything related to supreme leader kylo ren, but especially:
fall via coup
resistance fighter reconditioning (gen or nsfw)
force ghost visits from anakin/luke/rey/leia/snoke
defeat by the resistance, and subsequent aftermath
The Rise of Skywalker- Mole Discovery w/ Hux
canto bight:
shady weapons deals
picking up prisoners
recruitment
obligatory dinner party
general casino shenanigans
beach party
basically any reason you can think of to use canto bight as a setting piece
A note on romance: I will ship all of the new trilogy characters with Kylo Ren (except Snoke/Family). But I have no interest in exploring domestic-style takes on them. Thank you for understanding.
[ it is always hard to come home. that's what it feels like, setting foot in this open sore of a port. canto bight has always been the shining star of cantonica, but not to kira. as the supreme leader had been all too eager to remind her, the last time she had set foot here, she was still rey, a child lost in the wilds of jakku. a scavenger. nothing.
the supreme leader was wrong about one thing: she was not afraid to confront the place her parents had sold her. that day, those people, that girl she had been held no sway over her anymore.
and even if they did … there were matters of greater import here than her own fears. ]
Cover every port and hangar in this city. I want to know about every ship that enters the atmosphere.
[ she says it as soon as her black boots click on the marble floors of the casino, turning to address the masked troopers to her side. one of them — he must be new to command — turns towards her to ask, What will you do? the others flinch. they can feel the anger thrumming under her skin, the tension that winds into her just being here. they know better.
there is no emotion in her face as she lifts her hand. he sinks to his knees, his choked gasps amplified by the speaker in his helmet. the others do not flinch. only when he crumples does she release her phantom grip. the others salute and go about their business, one of them taking the risk to carry his fallen comrade.
he might live, this stormtrooper. if they bother to bring him back to the command shuttle. if he does, he'll have learned his lesson. she pulls back the hood on her thick, black woollen cape and lets it hang around her shoulders as she gets a good look now at the casino floor.
someone in this bauble of a town is arming the resistance. kira strides like a wraith across the casino floor, the loose skirts of her tunic a whip of black fabric in her wake. her shadow is barely noticed by the elites who gamble away their pocket change. and she does not think about how many of those bets are more than the supreme leader had paid to get his hands on her all those years ago.
it's stifling.
but somewhere in this blasted, beautiful city there is a seed of hope and she is going to snuff it out. ]
[The Falcon is too large to slip in unnoticed, so today, Ben sticks with his stolen shuttle and parks it far off on an empty beach -- parking in the bay would have required registration, and it would have been flagged as a stolen ship instantly. He's not quite confident enough in his fast-talking skills to talk his way out of an arrest -- especially not with the First Order already on high alert.
Canto Bight had become a bit of a pet project for him -- with the war going on, it was easy to offer his smuggling services without any eyes following him. He had enough credentials built up that he could slip in mostly undetected once his ship was on the ground. He'd been cursed with his father's genes (not his mother's altruistic heart -- perhaps if he had, he might have more formally joined her in the war after Han Solo's untimely death), and so there was absolutely no way he could stealth his way inside without at least pretending he belonged there.
And so, he adjusted his stolen cufflinks and fastened the clasp of his pressed jacket as he wandered into the casino straight to his usual table. He'd long since given up on properly combing his hair. Any facial recognition system would ping him instantly with or without it -- no amount of remapping would hide that nose.
There's an uncomfortable itch in the back of his head that he can't quite place the source of. Hopefully, his contact wouldn't be long. But in the mean time, he procures a set of dice until his usual drink comes to find him.
First shot hits its mark, earning him a tired sigh from the attendant. He's careful how much he shoots. Enough wins, and the attendant would no doubt toss him for cheating. All the while, he keeps his peripheral vision on the entrance.]
[ in the entrance walks a short, dark-skinned man with a high-collared jacket. unlike the rest of the patrons of canto bight, this man wears only one ring. one that hides a symbol of the resistance. he glances around, uneasy, then makes his way for ben's position.
he never makes it that far. into his path steps a woman. she has the kind of presence that makes it easy to mistake her as taller than him by a mile, although they're actually quite close in height. kira rests her hand on the man's arm, and pure panic overtakes his expression. ]
The prodigal stormtrooper, returned to us at last. [ she keeps her voice low, and it is lost in the din of the casino well before it ever makes it to ben. she leans in. the impression of intimacy to anyone who wasn't looking at his contact's face. ] You caused us quite a bit of trouble, leaving the way you did. [ her grip tightens. ] Where is it?
[ the panic turns to pain. kira digs her fingers into the meat of his arm as she digs into his mind. abandoning his post would be enough to get this stormtrooper killed out of hand. but stealing what he had, trying to find a way to smuggle it to the resistance. that deserved something more—
something more. no, not in the stormtrooper. she pulls back, suddenly aware. a ripple, elsewhere in the casino. she turns slowly, her eyes dark and searching. her hand loosens and slips, and finn is quick to take advantage. she barely marks the signs of him retreating.
what is it? that feeling. someone else touching the force. slight. so slight they may not even have noticed ... ]
[He spots Finn as he comes in and he can't help but smile a bit. Quick visit today. He wouldn't get more than one drink -- so he downs it, right before his vision is suddenly obscured by--
Karabast.
Ben is not so altruistic that he is going to stand up for Finn when Kira is right there. He's heard plenty of stories and whispers, but hearing things and being in the same room as a First Order enforcer was another thing entirely. He's unarmed and, if the rumors were true, she had the Force with her.
Immediately, he looks for an out, smoothing his hair out. The next crowd that walks by his table means he is disappearing inside of it, and headed for the lower levels. It would have been a clean exit, if not for the attendant asking if he was going to cash out his earnings.
He's panicking, but surely if he keeps moving, he can out run her.]
i'm here to make everything terrible always so ?? ? why are you surprised
[ she sees the shuffle of a crowd, the attendant calling out for him, but she doesn't get a glimpse of who sat at that table. but she can feel him. kira turns to look back for fn-2187, but he is already gone through the next doors.
kira grabs a stormtrooper hustling past. ]
Follow him. Don't let him get away. [ she points after fn-2187, then turns to march in the opposite direction, pursuing the glimmer of light in the force like a will-o-wisp. maybe she imagined it. but no. someone ran. if nothing else, someone connected to fn-2187. someone who would have answers to putting this to bed. for good.
she chases him into the stairwell, the slow and steady stomp of a creature who knows she can outlast her prey, and therefore needs not bother to outrun it. he's heading into the lower levels. from there, she can corner him easily. he won't know yet that traffic has been grounded here. ]
[He picks up speed once he is free of the crowd, dodging various drinking lounges and heading for the streets with the intention of picking up a speeder to the edge of the island. Unfortunately, he is forced to skid to a halt shortly before running into a frustrated mob of people, unable to exit because of halted traffic.
Of all the dumb luck--
Ben quickly doubles back, slipping into one of the dimly lit bar areas. Its full, but its quiet -- if he could just find a booth to disappear into, he could lose her.
Probably. He's going to try it. There is even an abandoned drink there to make it look like he'd been there the whole time.]
she almost walks past, tricked by the traces of his light beyond the lounge.
she's almost fooled.
but she stops, turns on her heels, and peers through the glass into the dimly glowing bar area. an orange light casts across the collection of softly playing wind instruments, picked up and carried through the room by various crystal glasses on the hightop tables.
she steps inside, a shadow that immediately curdles the comfortable mood of the room. the music continues, but the tone almost seems to bend around the darkness she brings with her. she counts down the bar, taking stock of those who sit at it.
ah. there.
she stretches out her hand and shatters the glass in front of him, then all the others up the line of the bar. the explosion of glass sends the other patrons scattering, a few shrieks jolting out. ]
[Something prompts him to throw his arm in front of his eyes just before the glass shatters, so quickly that he does not even realize he's reacting before the action. He springs off his chair, catching himself on the bar in shock. He has a chose to make -- play dumb, or run.
Judging by the fact that she followed him down here somehow, he suspects that he can't actually outrun her. So, second option it is.
Ben puts his hands in the air in a form of surrender.]
Is. There a problem? Here?
[He is a big man, but he is hardly an intimidating figure on his own, especially dressed in a white pressed tuxedo that may or may not be a half-a-size too small for him. There is a sense of fear that vibrates straight down to his bones, and an awkward charm that is clearly his mark to get him out of trouble nine times out of ten.]
well, honestly, she's smaller in real life. her reputation makes her sound like she's six-foot-ten, but here is this. well, not small woman. she's actually a bit above average height, well-muscled. small next to him, maybe. but her presence, that meets the reputation of the first order's enforcer.
she comes to a stop just in front of him while the rest of the bar continues to scatter. but not him. a smile tugs at the corner of her mouth. no, not him. ]
No need to get up on my account. Sit.
[ there's a ripple of something else behind it. a force that presses itself upon him, urging him in a way that her voice will not. it would work, if he weren't strong with the force himself. in a way, it's a measure of him. ]
[Sitting sounds like a bad idea. Sitting means he can't run.
He sits, after a long hesitation, still managing to look slightly bewildered in spite of himself. After all, he hadn't wanted to actually comply, and yet--]
--you...spilled my drink.
[There's no real bravado behind it. His tone is that of a man who really does not want to be in any more trouble than he is obviously already in.]
And you aided a known fugitive from the First Order. What is a drink in the face of treason?
[ she moves to sit beside him. rather than use the force — a point she feels has been made — she reaches over and firmly turns his stool around to face the bar again. she clears it of glass with her gloved hand and reaches over for a bottle of corellian brandy. ]
Ben Solo. It was you he was coming to meet, wasn't it? Tell me the truth.
[That’s almost a joke. After all, his record isn’t exactly clean — but that was the nature of war. It meant people with a dishonest living tended to thrive.
God, he is so dead.
But obviously, confessing isn’t on the menu. What would the truth get him, except a public execution?]
That’s not very fair. Why would you assume that of me?
[After all, his mother was a Resistance leader. If he was really sympathetic to their cause, why not just join them?]
Continue gaming me, and you will find I have less amicable ways of finding what I want.
[ it's not empathy protecting him from that method even now — it's curiosity. a part of her questions its effectiveness on him. she has never had to delve the mind of another force sensitive before, and oh, it is him.
she can taste it in the way the air hums around him. it tastes like gold.
she pushes the bottle over to him. ]
Try again. A second chance is more than I give most people. You won't get a third.
[What are the odds that brandy is poisoned? Surely not. She did just pick it up from the bar, right? He suddenly can’t remember. Instead of replying, he awkwardly reaches up to scratch behind his head.]
...listen. That’s not my life. I don’t know what he was doing here.
[But he is going to take that bottle, thank you. If nothing else, its a heavy object he can swing.]
Interesting, given that he thought he was meeting with you.
[ she tilts her head to watch him take the bottle, but not a drink from it. he doesn't trust her, so he's not entirely stupid. ]
Was it about the money? Offloading stolen First Order weapons. I'm sure it didn't matter to you who was buying. [ the bar is quiet. this bar has never been quiet since it opened, but she has made it so. in seconds. ] Even your mother.
[This is the moment where he opens that bottle of brandy and looks around for a glass for about two seconds before giving up and drinking straight from its neck, just so he doesn’t have to answer that question directly out of hand.
She had made her choice when the First Order came. Maybe if she and his uncle had acted sooner, his father would still be alive. But that did not make him completely unsympathetic to the cause. Ultimately, it was the First Order who had executed him, not the Resistance.
But a light in his humor fizzles out when he finally gives his reply. He is suddenly very aware of the people still left in the room.]
My mother doesn’t need weapons from me.
[Which was true. The casino was full of dealers. But he also wasn’t looking to be the man who shut down Canto Bight.]
You might already know this, but a lot of people are pretty fond of her.
A lot of people didn't arrange to meet with a defector from the First Order.
[ she tilts her head, intent upon him. she reaches over to close her grip around the neck of the bottle, leaning into his space as she does. he's brave, to be dodging her like this. if it weren't slowing her down, she might even call it admirable. ]
[She's very close to him now, and his instinct is to look for distance. But he's played this game enough with other smugglers, and bad clients. Not necessarily with a Dark Force user, but -- well, how different could it be.
He holds his ground. If he doesn't die, the first thing he is doing is swindling a voucher into the zero gravity spa from someone in this stupid casino.]
Look. Even if that was true, he's long gone by now. What do you think I can do for you? You should be picking on CBPD for letting him in here in the first place.
You're right. It's unkind of me to ask you to reveal your business dealings in such a public place. You'll feel more open to discussion aboard my shuttle.
[ she slides off the stool, pulling the bottle towards her like she plans to at least take it for a souvenir — along with him. ]
Your ship, of course, will be impounded and searched for contraband.
[Ben sighs with some obvious exasperation, the sort that you hear out of a man who's just found a ticket on their speeder. He smears his face in his one free hand, the other still on the bottle. But this is it. Either he goes with her quietly or he
Shoves the bottle away with as much force as he can manage and bolts around the corner like he's just discovered a slip and slide. Even if he makes it to the street, he could surely get enough distance to hide out until she got bored and left.
[ the bottle yoyos as physics makes things when someone is pulling and pushing and then not, suddenly. as a result, some liquor splashes up out of it and onto her clothes. she growls and throws the bottle against the wall as she turns to where he flees.
instead of bothering to chase him, she throws out one hand, fingers splayed, and thickens the air around him with the force. it slows him, like he's trapped in an invisible tarpit. it solidifies, freezing him there. ]
Ben locks in place mid slide, dropping him hard on the ground as his limbs cease to function. Any sense of calm melts away, replaced by fear and he finds that his struggling does -- nothing.
[ she takes her time walking over. there's no rush. she's in total control of the situation now, and the fear in his eyes puts her at a kind of ease. yes. he was the presence she had sensed, but he's no threat.
just a child. playing dress-up in his father's clothes.
she crouches over him, reaching under his jacket to pull the blaster he wears out of its holster. better get rid of that quickly. she lifts the barrel to his face and brushes loose bangs away from his forehead.
she lets the blaster linger there at his temple for a moment, as though wistfully considering. ]
Fortunately for you, you still have something to offer us. [ she pulls it back and tucks it into the back of her belt with a sigh. ]
She digs up his smuggled blaster, and he wants to close the eye nearest the barrel when she brings it up to brush his bangs away. But he finds that he cannot. Why did the police always seem to miraculously disappear when fights actually broke out? It was the one time he found himself begging for law enforcement to interrupt him.
She says something about an offer, but he can't begin to imagine what she is talking about. There was virtually nothing on the speeder, except for a case of bombs, some hand canons, and a few scavenged droids -- nothing the First Order would care for.
His fear ramps, and fingers start to twitch in an effort to close into a fist.]
[ tension flickers through her forehead. she tilts her head, feeling the pressure of his straining against her hold on the force.
this time when she touches his face, it's with her gloved hand. what starts as a gentle caress turns to a strangling grip under his chin without missing a beat. ]
You see, the trouble is ... you're right. [ she explains it as though patiently, to a child. ] FN-2187 is long gone. I'm sure he found some gutter to sneak out through. If I want him, and the weapons he stole, I'll have to lure him back.
Chin up, smuggler. You are doing the galaxy an important service.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
i'm here for some kind of jedi/smuggler/resistance ben + canto bight
the supreme leader was wrong about one thing: she was not afraid to confront the place her parents had sold her. that day, those people, that girl she had been held no sway over her anymore.
and even if they did … there were matters of greater import here than her own fears. ]
Cover every port and hangar in this city. I want to know about every ship that enters the atmosphere.
[ she says it as soon as her black boots click on the marble floors of the casino, turning to address the masked troopers to her side. one of them — he must be new to command — turns towards her to ask, What will you do? the others flinch. they can feel the anger thrumming under her skin, the tension that winds into her just being here. they know better.
there is no emotion in her face as she lifts her hand. he sinks to his knees, his choked gasps amplified by the speaker in his helmet. the others do not flinch. only when he crumples does she release her phantom grip. the others salute and go about their business, one of them taking the risk to carry his fallen comrade.
he might live, this stormtrooper. if they bother to bring him back to the command shuttle. if he does, he'll have learned his lesson. she pulls back the hood on her thick, black woollen cape and lets it hang around her shoulders as she gets a good look now at the casino floor.
someone in this bauble of a town is arming the resistance. kira strides like a wraith across the casino floor, the loose skirts of her tunic a whip of black fabric in her wake. her shadow is barely noticed by the elites who gamble away their pocket change. and she does not think about how many of those bets are more than the supreme leader had paid to get his hands on her all those years ago.
it's stifling.
but somewhere in this blasted, beautiful city there is a seed of hope and she is going to snuff it out. ]
baseball slides in here with that smuggler life
Canto Bight had become a bit of a pet project for him -- with the war going on, it was easy to offer his smuggling services without any eyes following him. He had enough credentials built up that he could slip in mostly undetected once his ship was on the ground. He'd been cursed with his father's genes (not his mother's altruistic heart -- perhaps if he had, he might have more formally joined her in the war after Han Solo's untimely death), and so there was absolutely no way he could stealth his way inside without at least pretending he belonged there.
And so, he adjusted his stolen cufflinks and fastened the clasp of his pressed jacket as he wandered into the casino straight to his usual table. He'd long since given up on properly combing his hair. Any facial recognition system would ping him instantly with or without it -- no amount of remapping would hide that nose.
There's an uncomfortable itch in the back of his head that he can't quite place the source of. Hopefully, his contact wouldn't be long. But in the mean time, he procures a set of dice until his usual drink comes to find him.
First shot hits its mark, earning him a tired sigh from the attendant. He's careful how much he shoots. Enough wins, and the attendant would no doubt toss him for cheating. All the while, he keeps his peripheral vision on the entrance.]
drags finn in here
he never makes it that far. into his path steps a woman. she has the kind of presence that makes it easy to mistake her as taller than him by a mile, although they're actually quite close in height. kira rests her hand on the man's arm, and pure panic overtakes his expression. ]
The prodigal stormtrooper, returned to us at last. [ she keeps her voice low, and it is lost in the din of the casino well before it ever makes it to ben. she leans in. the impression of intimacy to anyone who wasn't looking at his contact's face. ] You caused us quite a bit of trouble, leaving the way you did. [ her grip tightens. ] Where is it?
[ the panic turns to pain. kira digs her fingers into the meat of his arm as she digs into his mind. abandoning his post would be enough to get this stormtrooper killed out of hand. but stealing what he had, trying to find a way to smuggle it to the resistance. that deserved something more—
something more. no, not in the stormtrooper. she pulls back, suddenly aware. a ripple, elsewhere in the casino. she turns slowly, her eyes dark and searching. her hand loosens and slips, and finn is quick to take advantage. she barely marks the signs of him retreating.
what is it? that feeling. someone else touching the force. slight. so slight they may not even have noticed ... ]
i can't believe how rude you are
Karabast.
Ben is not so altruistic that he is going to stand up for Finn when Kira is right there. He's heard plenty of stories and whispers, but hearing things and being in the same room as a First Order enforcer was another thing entirely. He's unarmed and, if the rumors were true, she had the Force with her.
Immediately, he looks for an out, smoothing his hair out. The next crowd that walks by his table means he is disappearing inside of it, and headed for the lower levels. It would have been a clean exit, if not for the attendant asking if he was going to cash out his earnings.
He's panicking, but surely if he keeps moving, he can out run her.]
i'm here to make everything terrible always so ?? ? why are you surprised
kira grabs a stormtrooper hustling past. ]
Follow him. Don't let him get away. [ she points after fn-2187, then turns to march in the opposite direction, pursuing the glimmer of light in the force like a will-o-wisp. maybe she imagined it. but no. someone ran. if nothing else, someone connected to fn-2187. someone who would have answers to putting this to bed. for good.
she chases him into the stairwell, the slow and steady stomp of a creature who knows she can outlast her prey, and therefore needs not bother to outrun it. he's heading into the lower levels. from there, she can corner him easily. he won't know yet that traffic has been grounded here. ]
no subject
Of all the dumb luck--
Ben quickly doubles back, slipping into one of the dimly lit bar areas. Its full, but its quiet -- if he could just find a booth to disappear into, he could lose her.
Probably. He's going to try it. There is even an abandoned drink there to make it look like he'd been there the whole time.]
no subject
she almost walks past, tricked by the traces of his light beyond the lounge.
she's almost fooled.
but she stops, turns on her heels, and peers through the glass into the dimly glowing bar area. an orange light casts across the collection of softly playing wind instruments, picked up and carried through the room by various crystal glasses on the hightop tables.
she steps inside, a shadow that immediately curdles the comfortable mood of the room. the music continues, but the tone almost seems to bend around the darkness she brings with her. she counts down the bar, taking stock of those who sit at it.
ah. there.
she stretches out her hand and shatters the glass in front of him, then all the others up the line of the bar. the explosion of glass sends the other patrons scattering, a few shrieks jolting out. ]
no subject
Judging by the fact that she followed him down here somehow, he suspects that he can't actually outrun her. So, second option it is.
Ben puts his hands in the air in a form of surrender.]
Is. There a problem? Here?
[He is a big man, but he is hardly an intimidating figure on his own, especially dressed in a white pressed tuxedo that may or may not be a half-a-size too small for him. There is a sense of fear that vibrates straight down to his bones, and an awkward charm that is clearly his mark to get him out of trouble nine times out of ten.]
no subject
well, honestly, she's smaller in real life. her reputation makes her sound like she's six-foot-ten, but here is this. well, not small woman. she's actually a bit above average height, well-muscled. small next to him, maybe. but her presence, that meets the reputation of the first order's enforcer.
she comes to a stop just in front of him while the rest of the bar continues to scatter. but not him. a smile tugs at the corner of her mouth. no, not him. ]
No need to get up on my account. Sit.
[ there's a ripple of something else behind it. a force that presses itself upon him, urging him in a way that her voice will not. it would work, if he weren't strong with the force himself. in a way, it's a measure of him. ]
no subject
[Sitting sounds like a bad idea. Sitting means he can't run.
He sits, after a long hesitation, still managing to look slightly bewildered in spite of himself. After all, he hadn't wanted to actually comply, and yet--]
--you...spilled my drink.
[There's no real bravado behind it. His tone is that of a man who really does not want to be in any more trouble than he is obviously already in.]
no subject
[ she moves to sit beside him. rather than use the force — a point she feels has been made — she reaches over and firmly turns his stool around to face the bar again. she clears it of glass with her gloved hand and reaches over for a bottle of corellian brandy. ]
Ben Solo. It was you he was coming to meet, wasn't it? Tell me the truth.
no subject
[That’s almost a joke. After all, his record isn’t exactly clean — but that was the nature of war. It meant people with a dishonest living tended to thrive.
God, he is so dead.
But obviously, confessing isn’t on the menu. What would the truth get him, except a public execution?]
That’s not very fair. Why would you assume that of me?
[After all, his mother was a Resistance leader. If he was really sympathetic to their cause, why not just join them?]
no subject
[ it's not empathy protecting him from that method even now — it's curiosity. a part of her questions its effectiveness on him. she has never had to delve the mind of another force sensitive before, and oh, it is him.
she can taste it in the way the air hums around him. it tastes like gold.
she pushes the bottle over to him. ]
Try again. A second chance is more than I give most people. You won't get a third.
no subject
...listen. That’s not my life. I don’t know what he was doing here.
[But he is going to take that bottle, thank you. If nothing else, its a heavy object he can swing.]
no subject
[ she tilts her head to watch him take the bottle, but not a drink from it. he doesn't trust her, so he's not entirely stupid. ]
Was it about the money? Offloading stolen First Order weapons. I'm sure it didn't matter to you who was buying. [ the bar is quiet. this bar has never been quiet since it opened, but she has made it so. in seconds. ] Even your mother.
no subject
She had made her choice when the First Order came. Maybe if she and his uncle had acted sooner, his father would still be alive. But that did not make him completely unsympathetic to the cause. Ultimately, it was the First Order who had executed him, not the Resistance.
But a light in his humor fizzles out when he finally gives his reply. He is suddenly very aware of the people still left in the room.]
My mother doesn’t need weapons from me.
[Which was true. The casino was full of dealers. But he also wasn’t looking to be the man who shut down Canto Bight.]
You might already know this, but a lot of people are pretty fond of her.
no subject
[ she tilts her head, intent upon him. she reaches over to close her grip around the neck of the bottle, leaning into his space as she does. he's brave, to be dodging her like this. if it weren't slowing her down, she might even call it admirable. ]
Just you.
no subject
He holds his ground. If he doesn't die, the first thing he is doing is swindling a voucher into the zero gravity spa from someone in this stupid casino.]
Look. Even if that was true, he's long gone by now. What do you think I can do for you? You should be picking on CBPD for letting him in here in the first place.
no subject
[ she slides off the stool, pulling the bottle towards her like she plans to at least take it for a souvenir — along with him. ]
Your ship, of course, will be impounded and searched for contraband.
no subject
[Ben sighs with some obvious exasperation, the sort that you hear out of a man who's just found a ticket on their speeder. He smears his face in his one free hand, the other still on the bottle. But this is it. Either he goes with her quietly or he
Shoves the bottle away with as much force as he can manage and bolts around the corner like he's just discovered a slip and slide. Even if he makes it to the street, he could surely get enough distance to hide out until she got bored and left.
(its the second one)]
no subject
instead of bothering to chase him, she throws out one hand, fingers splayed, and thickens the air around him with the force. it slows him, like he's trapped in an invisible tarpit. it solidifies, freezing him there. ]
no subject
Ben locks in place mid slide, dropping him hard on the ground as his limbs cease to function. Any sense of calm melts away, replaced by fear and he finds that his struggling does -- nothing.
His eyes move up to Kira's warily.]
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[ she takes her time walking over. there's no rush. she's in total control of the situation now, and the fear in his eyes puts her at a kind of ease. yes. he was the presence she had sensed, but he's no threat.
just a child. playing dress-up in his father's clothes.
she crouches over him, reaching under his jacket to pull the blaster he wears out of its holster. better get rid of that quickly. she lifts the barrel to his face and brushes loose bangs away from his forehead.
she lets the blaster linger there at his temple for a moment, as though wistfully considering. ]
Fortunately for you, you still have something to offer us. [ she pulls it back and tucks it into the back of her belt with a sigh. ]
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She digs up his smuggled blaster, and he wants to close the eye nearest the barrel when she brings it up to brush his bangs away. But he finds that he cannot. Why did the police always seem to miraculously disappear when fights actually broke out? It was the one time he found himself begging for law enforcement to interrupt him.
She says something about an offer, but he can't begin to imagine what she is talking about. There was virtually nothing on the speeder, except for a case of bombs, some hand canons, and a few scavenged droids -- nothing the First Order would care for.
His fear ramps, and fingers start to twitch in an effort to close into a fist.]
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[ tension flickers through her forehead. she tilts her head, feeling the pressure of his straining against her hold on the force.
this time when she touches his face, it's with her gloved hand. what starts as a gentle caress turns to a strangling grip under his chin without missing a beat. ]
You see, the trouble is ... you're right. [ she explains it as though patiently, to a child. ] FN-2187 is long gone. I'm sure he found some gutter to sneak out through. If I want him, and the weapons he stole, I'll have to lure him back.
Chin up, smuggler. You are doing the galaxy an important service.
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