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WISH LIST

★ my dark au kink:
+ being captured by the first order and subjected to reconditioning
+ trying to turn him back with the power of gay love and friendship (and possibly failing)
+ he was always a first order tie fighter pilot instead of winter soldiered
+ poe and finn first order murder squad (dynamics if they were both stormtroopers? running away together?)
+ ^ part b: the fam that gets captured and reconditioned together… stays…together…
+ Interesting Dynamics with kylo and hux from dark aus

★ finn stuff
+ what will they do after the war? romantic vacations? homesteading? sending finn's spit to space 23andme?
+ infinite escape reimagining/aus, stormpilot escape room reigning champions

★ rey stuff
+ relationship of convenience because they're both In Denial
+ sith princess rey aus where he tries to save her and/or she turns him

★ kylo stuff
+ infinite interrogating/torture room reimagining/aus
+ ^ part b: stockholm syndrome?
+ We Need to Talk about Leia

★ general
+ honestly anything regarding leia (esp processing grief post-tros)
+ talking about his sketchy spice runner past (possibly playing things taking place during that time in his life?)
+ ^ same for things taking place during academy/new republic tbh
+ i love aus. modern aus, vampire aus, a/b/o aus, let's au the entire world
+ i prefer m/m for poe but am good with most ships

kinks if ya nasty

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ The fact that catches him off-guard both does and doesn't surprise her. It's far from the first time she's seen such a reaction in a man. Amazing how prowess in the Force or on the field of battle they might scarcely blink at, but turn that to matters more intimate, to behavior more typically thought of as masculine, and suddenly they were shocked and appalled. Kylo's in a good enough mood to not have it grate on her nerves -- which most certainly is to Poe's benefit, even he might not consider anything to be at present.

Her lips press together in another smirk, a brow arching at the expression on his face. It's almost cute, really. A trace of innocence soon to wither and die. ]

As if that even slightly matters. Particularly at this point in time.

[ When he tries to pull out of her grasp she only tightens her grip, giving a slight tug in return to keep him close. Kylo shifts her position in the throne, sitting more properly with feet flat on the ground, legs parting so he stands between them, taking away another small bit of space that remains between them. She leans forward, purposely putting herself almost nose-to-nose with him to make him uncomfortable, her dark eyes on his. ]

Protest all you like, it's not going to help in that any more than when it comes time for me to sink a blade into you. What bothers you? The worry that I might be right about that too? That you might learn to crave me, need me? Sounds like a fun experiment. To see how long it takes before no means yes without my powers swaying your mind.

Of course, I think I've already proved I can make your body obey me without affecting what you really think... [ Her other hand moves then, splaying upon his stomach, and there's something almost threatening about what could otherwise be a relatively innocent motion. ]

[ he didn't think it would matter, not really, but he figured he'd try to deflect.

either way, she succeeds in making him uncomfortable. she's so close, too close. and she has his wrist, so he can't move back. he can't even imagine what she's talking about. needing her. impossible. every cell in his body wants to revolt against it. even her hand pressed against his stomach makes him want to recoil. he doesn't, but he wants to. his insides do. ]

C'mon, stop.

[ his witty retorts take a steep decline in quality. they aren't working. it's a game he can't win. telling her to sink the blade in wouldn't get him his way. that's the only other alternative his mind can come up with. and "stop" certainly isn't going to actually get her to stop, but it's all that comes out. it's the fear bubbling its way up to the surface. ]

Give me a reason to. [ Not that she's saying it's possible to, but he could try. It's the start of another little game like on the shuttle, curious to see what he might say or do.

After a moment Kylo tilts her head, almost like she might try to kiss him, however instead she leans to speak next to his ear. Though her voice lowers it remains every bit as predatory. ]

Would you like a choice in something? I bet you're yearning for one. [ She pauses as her eyes close, breathing in deep the scent of him. The fear and discontent, the faint trace of anger that failed to keep the fear at bay, and the scent of him beneath it all. Such a delicious cocktail. ] You can have a night's reprieve, but you have to offer me something worthwhile in return. Something you'll give and not be made to do with my power.

Or... you can protest some more and I'll take you right here, right now. [ Her hand shifts, fingers curling in the waistband of his pants with clear intent. ] And when I'm through you'll be sent to a cell to wallow in your pain and anguish.

[ Kylo draws back then. She even releases her hold on him, relaxing back against the throne. There's an expectant look on her face as her gaze settles on him. ] Your choice, Poe.

[ you can see him bracing for a kiss in the way his mouth clamps shut as soon has her face starts coming in to close the gap. it's no relief when she doesn't, though. not when the alternative is worse.

the choice isn't much of a choice. he knows it, and he knows that she meant for it to be that way. he's fully aware of this being just another game to her. he doesn't even try to step back when she lets go of him. she'll just pull him back in again, probably.

instead, he purses his lips in a thin line, exhaling through his nose. he knows what he's going to choose. he already knew, as soon as she laid the options out. but it doesn't make it any easier. he wanted the choice. he wanted to be in control of his own actions. even if the thought of whatever those actions might be left him feeling sick to his stomach. a new and exciting opportunity to feel disgust at himself instead of at her. ]

Did you have something in mind, or am I supposed to surprise you?

Oh, I've countless things in mind. [ she initially replies with a brief smirk.

And oh, how she loves that she actually can follow through with whatever her mind conjures up now that there's no one looming over her, seeking to direct her themselves. ] It wouldn't be much of a choice if I specifically told you what to do, now would it?

I will make good on the promise of a reprieve. That's a real incentive, not an illusion. A reward. [ Because all good subjects and pets need a little reward and positive reinforcement from time to time. It'll be a good one, but she's not going to give him any further details. Just in case she feels his decision doesn't merit the full reward she has in mind. ]

Yeah, yeah. Okay.

[ he knows what she means. what she's expecting. (something sexual.) at least, he feels relatively certain. there's not much room for interpretation.

and he tenses up because, it occurs to him that ... they're in the throne room? is this really the best place for this? but then, it's kylo's throne room, isn't it. and it doesn't really matter, in the grand scheme of things. he's going to feel shitty about himself regardless of whether knights of ren come in to watch or not.

so he lowers himself down on his knees. he took a split second to weigh his options, and decided this was the best one, since it was the one where he'd have the least total contact with her. and could keep his own pants firmly on.

it's at that point he considers asking her to take off her whole pants situation to expedite the process, but he feels like that would end poorly for him. instead, he reaches up to her hips/waist area and does an exploratory feel for buttons/zippers/etc. if he tries hard enough to dissociate, maybe he won't have to put actual thought into what he's doing. ]

[ Kylo bites the inside of her cheek in an effort to tame the pleased smirk that appears as she watches him. Just a slight habit lingering from before that hasn't been entirely broken. What could she say? There just wasn't as much thrill anymore in manipulating random troopers or officers. It certainly didn't come close to how absolutely delighted she is at the sight of Poe on his knees before her, and without requiring the use of the Force at that.

Any comments she might have are kept to herself for the time being. There's no need to provoke, not now. Not when he's listening and not fighting.

The pants have a button and zipper closure, although they're rather snug. Beneath are a simple pair of black panties. (the Star Wars equivalent of Victoria's Secret gets saved for special occasions, or at least that's her excuse.) For her part, Kylo doesn't make things more difficult for him. She lifts her hips when necessary so the fabric can be pulled down and out of the way. Nor does she touch him, though it requires restraint.

Her eyes are on him though, following every movement. But she's only looking, not searching his thoughts or seeking to influence his mind. Although if she knew of his wondering at a potential audience she might have considered recalling the Knights. ]

[ he's trying his best to mentally prepare himself for this before he ghosts out mentally. pull down her pants, pull down her panties. there's a kind of mechanical quality to his actions, since passion is not a feeling he's feeling for her right now. he doesn't think he could even be capable of it.

but he does it. when he's done pulling down her pants, his hands stay locked at her hips. and then he goes in, tongue first, looking for her clit. for the record: he has never done this for a woman before. or, anything with a woman before. in general. but he knows enough. the gist of it. and he's good with his mouth. once he susses out a rhythm for strokes, he keeps with it.

with that minimal amount of thought, he lets himself stop thinking completely. white noise and blank space. maybe he's somewhere else. with someone else. it doesn't matter, as long as he doesn't have to be here. ]

[ As it becomes apparent he's actually going to go through with this she shifts her position, slouching in the throne to better angle her hips for him and parting her legs as much as clothing will allow. After all, it might be a form of torture for him but she does want to enjoy it, and she has nothing to gain from making this particular task difficult for him.

She sighs quietly at the initial touch, smiling a little to herself as she commits the sight before her to memory. It does become clear, however, that he has a certain lack of experience. Something that actually surprises her at first... and then her mind shifts to how she could make it benefit her. An 'apprentice' in the bedroom didn't sound so bad, assuming she had the patience. At the very least it meant there weren't any learned behaviors or preferences from ex-girlfriends for her to do away with.

Eventually one hand moves to wind fingers into his hair and she helps guide him. She does vaguely sense when he mentally checks out, and though it makes her eyes narrow slightly she doesn't force his full attention back. With the inexperience she doubts it would make a difference, at least not in the positive, so she allows it this time. He didn't deserve it, but she knows there will be plenty of time to make him remain mentally present for activities. Plenty of time to teach and show and bend him to her will and whims.

As release nears her grip tightens on his hair, hips lifting toward his mouth. Her breathing's picked up, eyes having fallen shut some time after her head tipped back against the throne. A quiet whine rises in the back of her throat and fleetingly she's taken with the urge to shove him back on the floor and ride him to completion. Only that would break the rules of her little game. He was doing his part, even if he wasn't particularly enthusiastic about it. Her flicker of frustration manifests in the way she holds him close, hips grinding against his tongue as release finally washes over her. ]

[ he tries to stay checked out, but something in the way she grips him and pulls his face into her acts like a tether. at some point, he forgets he was trying to dissociate and mentally wanders back. it wasn't what he was used to, certainly, but if he could see her face, the whole thing was almost bearable.

there's a lot going on, on a sensory level. a sharp but pleasant pain from her hand in his hair. spit and her arousal sliding down his chin and getting all over his face as he moves around. feeling her hips as he digs his fingers in.

he's in control. he's the one doing this to her.

as he lets himself get into it, he becomes aware of discomfort in his pants. which is THE WORST THING and the polar opposite of what he wanted to happen. he feels a twinge of nausea with the realization that his body is actively betraying him, but it's drowned out by the loudness of every over sensation. ]

[ Somewhere along the way she feels a shift. From just going through the motions to actually trying. She can't put her finger on it but her body certainly notices and it heightens her arousal, and brings her to the edge that much quicker.

Even as she sinks back against the throne she can feel desire still winding through her. More so, actually. He's exceeding her expectations for the instance and it makes her want to stay in the moment, to milk it as long as she can because next time he's bound to fight, and while that will turn her on in an entirely different way that's not what right now is about. Her hand is still in his hair, not holding tight so much as cupping the back of his head. Silent encouragement that his mouth is right where she wants it to be. ]

Keep going... [ It's not much of a demand with the breathless tone of her voice. From anyone else it'd be easy to call it a request and assume there's a 'please' implied.

Her body's sensitive and flush with heat in the wake of release, her breath hitching when his tongue touches her clit. A sweet mix of pleasure and pain that sends a shiver along her spine and makes a soft moan fall from her lips. Her other hand, having been holding on to the arm of the throne, moves to her own body, sliding up over her top to cup a breast and squeeze as his motions cause her back to arch.

She doesn't want him to stop. She doesn't know what she'll do if he does, but truthfully she's not even thinking of that right now. All she's thinking of is yes and more and how good he feels. ]

[ her verbal encouragement makes it worse. her voice ringing in his ears — he knew it couldn't be the force. it was just her. him making her feel that way. her actually needing him. he tries to get the hang of breathing; it's more complicated than sucking dick. it's a nose situation but also he has to push hard enough with his tongue to get her to move and create a .005-second window for him to breathe.

but he can do it. he wants to do it. he can almost forget it's awful thanks to his newfound sense of control over her.

almost. because while she's intensely feeling all his ministrations, he's fighting his own personal battle. maybe while she's in the throes of passion, she won't notice if one hand ... slides away from her hip ... down to his pants. he's not going to unzip or unbutton. that would be admitting defeat. maybe he can get away with this. this being rubbing himself through his clothing. he can't even think about ruining his pants. ruining his pants is worth avoiding the humiliation of the admission that he got turned on enough to jerk one out in front of her. ]

[ There's definitely no use of the Force in this moment. No need for it, which yes, would give her a twinge of pleased surprise when she thinks upon the moment later. There's only the two of them and desire. Lust. Arousal that knows no sides or boundaries -- although there's no denying that those little details enhance things on a conscious or subconscious level.

Wrapped up in her own pleasure, she doesn't yet notice that he has need to tend to his own arousal. She felt the absence of his hand, a brief chill setting in where he'd touched her, but it doesn't register as something needing to be paid attention to. Not when his mouth is still working her over and the next wave of release is building ever higher. It's there for her to notice though if she cares to; a secondary pulse of arousal and need in the energy around them. But her own need is loud in her mind, and she's not often apt to particularly care if someone else gets off. Not unless it's part of inflicting humiliation or mind games, not unless it's of value to her somehow.

Her pulse is racing and she moans quietly, her fingers curling again in his hair. She squirms a little, shifting, and one leg lifts to drape over his shoulder. If he's hating this, she certainly can't tell. All signs point to some level of enjoyment and later she's going to relish in that little fact. And use it against him, definitely. ]

[ he's not really thinking anymore. not in any coherent sort of way. he forgets himself; his thoughts are all need and want. too many sensations at once — the sharp but pleasurable way she pulls at his hair. the feeling of fluid, more fluid, she's so wet and it's because of him. pressure from her leg over his shoulder, something heavy but warm.

he feels lightheaded and is fully aware of why. the reason is tightening in his pants.

speaking of that, he's still trying. trying to rub through the fabric, but it's too thick. the feeling is too indistinct. frustrating more than it is relieving. so he has to one-handedly unbutton and unzip, actions shaky and delayed because of his split focus. but he manages. his hand finds its way down under his pants and his underwear and it's such a relief. water in a desert. it would feel even better if he weren't determined to keep his pants at least mostly on, but he's still trying to maintain restraint on that front.

before he can stop or control it (if he even had the mental awareness to), he moans his own moan. maybe she wouldn't hear it, muffled as it was. or feel it. he tries to make up for the lapsed seconds by going even harder with the tongue strokes.

in the back of his mind, buried in the part that's dulled out and muted, he knew he'd been planning to get her off as quickly as possible. in and out, "favor" done. but now ... he wanted to drag it out. just a little longer. just until he could get his. ]

[ The moan catches her attention, and not simply because it feels good. Which it does. The subtle vibrations make her shiver in pleasure and absently she wishes she could hear it more clearly. Kylo lifts her head, forcing her eyes open to look down at him, and her head tilts to one side when she notices movement. Is he... oh. Oh, he is, isn't he?

Not interested, hmm? I think the maiden protests a little too much. She smirks to herself, aware now of the arousal in the air that isn't her own. It's tempting to say something, do something, but honestly what he's doing feels too good for her to want to make him stop in any way. Knowing he's turned on enough to need to touch himself gives her a rush that only intensifies what she's feeling.

A curse falls from her lips as her body quivers, getting close again, her head tipping back once more and eyes shutting to focus on sensation. She holds tight to his hair, her other hand gripping at the arm of the throne, half trying to brace herself against the impending release. Her breaths come quicker and her hips arch toward him, unable to stay still. It's not more than another minute or two before she gasps loudly, body tensing and then shuddering as her climax hits. The pleasure is just this side of pain and she savors every moment of it.

She sinks back against the throne as her body gradually stops twitching and shaking, breathing heavy. Her fingers release his hair but her hand lingers, somewhat absently stroking his hair. It's almost affectionate in the wake of her release. ]

[ just a little longer. he can feel her about to climax, the way her muscles tense, but it's all a secondary sensation. because he just needs a little longer. he's pumping frantically to chase his own feelings, but also out of hope that he can avoid being caught. (despite it being an impossibility either way. why are your pants unzipped, dameron? what's that stain? he didn't think that part though.) just a little longer.

and there it is. just out of tune with her orgasm. escaping notice was a lost cause from the start, probably, but it's finalized here. finalized in the sharp gasp he takes as he pulls his face away. first there are the good feelings. warm sparks flooding his body, the way sound turns to white noise for a moment or two. the warmth flooding his pants that feels nice now, but will feel significantly less nice in a few minutes. he's at least vaguely aware of that.

with that awareness comes a few other realizations that pierce though how suddenly bone-crushingly tired he is. all the spit and arousal all over his face is cold. his jaw is sore. her hand in his hair feels nice, but it shouldn't. nothing about this was okay. now that it's over, his brain comes back online just to to remind him of how wrong this was and how disgusted with himself he should be. ]

[ She's warm and content and utterly sated in the moment. Definitely more than she expected to be. Granted, her expectations hadn't been high to begin with but even so, she's had less satisfying orgasms from willing partners. It's nice to know that he's good for at least one thing that doesn't involve flying.

Her eyes flicker open in time to catch a hint of pleasure in his expression after his release and her lips curve into a satisfied smile. It makes her all the more glad she didn't call upon any of her abilities for this. Just simple verbal coercion, though ultimately he chose what to do. She didn't make him enjoy it or get aroused; that's all on him, and she knows neither of them will forget it.

She moves her leg from his shoulder, more out of her own comfort than his, and despite her body's desire to remain languid and slouched she pushes herself to sit up and lean forward a bit. The hand that's been in his hair moves so she can trail her fingers along his jaw, thumb sweeping across his swollen and slick lips before drawing her hand back. ]

Such a delightful mess. [ She practically purrs as her eyes run over him, bringing her hand up so she can lick her fingertips. Her smile widens to a grin as she eyes the obvious result of his orgasm. ] Mmm, glad you enjoyed yourself as much as I did.

[ it's hard to convey the level of hatred he's feeling when he's looking all flushed, messy, and used. but it's there. his eyes narrow; his mouth clamps shut in a thin line.

but he can't say anything. he can't even begin to formulate a coherent response. not one that wasn't as simple as "i didn't." which was a lie. ]

I did what you wanted.

[ that's all he's got. he digs deep, and that's all the remaining braincells at the helm can offer him. maybe he "enjoyed" himself, felt some kind of arousal, but it wasn't because he wanted it. his options were either initiate something with her or have her initiate and end up back in a cell at the end.

although he wasn't so sure what this was going to result in instead, actually. now that he was anticipating the next step in this exchange. it hits him like missing a stair on the staircase — finding nothing where something was supposed to be. ]

Yes, you certainly did. [ She doesn't try to hide how pleased she is at all that's gone on, her grin lingering as she settles back, relaxing once more against the throne. ] I would say you more than earned the reward I promised you.

[ And yes, there's a part of her that's tempted to ignore what she posed to get him to please her and to instead throw something painful at him, but any enjoyment she would gain from that would be of the more temporary sort. There's value here, even if her mind can't fully focus on it at the moment as she savors the afterglow. So she keeps with the rules of her own game.

Her gaze leaves him and she looks to the door, mentally reaching out with her power to bid one of the knights to return. While she waits for them her eyes return to Poe before she speaks again. ]

I promised you a reprieve and reprieve you will have. With an actual bed and a shower, even. I suspect you're keen for that. [ The last is added with a slight chuckle.

When the knight approaches the throne they show no reaction to her half naked state or the smell of sex in the air. She shifts her attention to them and makes a slight gesture at Poe. ] Escort him to the unused officer's quarters down the corridor from my own. He's allowed a meal but see that the door remains guarded and he's not allowed out. If I have to track him down later it'll be your head, understood?

[ The knight bows in affirmation and turns, waiting on Poe to stand. ]

[ he stands, not feeling too happy about it. his knees ache, but he doesn't want to bring undue attention to the fact that he literally jizzed his pants. (can't wait to shower that away. maybe he can try to wash his pants out in the shower, too, because he definitely isn't about to ask about laundry.)

he doesn't dignify anything else she says with a response as he's carted away. he's still trying to mull his situation over (and working through exhaustion to do it.) it wasn't that bad, was it? to enter that stage of reasoning with himself felt like some kind of defeat, but he sure is doing it.

he goes through some kind of mental recap — she spared bb-8. hux was the one who roughed him up, and even that was no worse than a bar fight. she moved him and made him act against his will. she made him have sex with her and disguised it as a choice.

the control was the worst thing, even though it didn't hold a candle to what she'd done when she dug through his mind on the finalizer. it was a stone's throw away from all the other things she's threatened him with. erasing his memories, taking away his every whim. all those things she said. the rewiring was scarier than any physical torture — that at least he felt like he could withstand. he wouldn't like it, but he could still be himself while doing it.

there is literally no better time to take a shower and then go to sleep to escape all these thoughts. who has time to plan an escape when you just want to go to sleep. ]

[ The initial promise was only for a night but sometimes things come up. There's a lot of moving parts to the fleet and the First Order itself. Something no doubt Poe could understand, even if the Order operates on a scale several magnitudes greater than the Resistance does.

Plus, you know. The small matter of dominating the galaxy.

What steals away Kylo's attention? Why, data from Poe's beloved droid. Officers had only combed through a fraction of it so far, still sorting and compiling into useful categories, but they alert her when what appears to be a documentation of ally support is found. Their suspicions are confirmed as the data is cross-checked with their own lists of known and suspected Resistance allies. Of particular note are several groups which appear to be operating within First Order controlled systems, groups that had managed to remain off the Order's lists.

Kylo meets with the upper echelon of her military to suss out the best plan of attack. They would never have a better time to make use of such information, as once the droid was back in Resistance hands the element of surprise would fast slip away. So they prioritize the biggest contributors to the rebel cause, with the traitors in their systems secondary. As the generals and admirals do what they do best, she holo-conferences one at a time with the government leaders in the highlighted systems, sorting out if any of the rebel groups are getting assistance from higher up the food chain. The political side of leading still bored her but she supposed the genes from her mother allowed her to tolerate it.

Overnight turns into the better part of the next day and into that night. At some point during the morning a menial worker stops by where Poe's being kept to deliver breakfast, the meal offering more or less the same as the standard fare most troops and workers get. The knight remains stationed outside the door, only leaving when two troopers come to relieve them midday. Any efforts to leave the quarters will be met by force.

Finally, at some point in the night, troopers enter to 'kindly' escort Poe elsewhere. Not to the throne room this time but in the same vicinity. The room is perhaps twice the size of a standard interrogation chamber, and though it houses a modified interrogation rack that's where the similarities end. It's more dark than sterile and metallic, the walls matte black with accents of a nearly-black shade of red. Despite the current cleanliness there's a scent of stale blood and death in the air, the temperature itself in the room a few degrees cooler than out in the corridor. The rack isn't the only device in the room but it's the largest. Kylo's on the other side of it, her back to the doorway as she stands in front of a table set against the wall, carefully withdrawing a set of sharp tools from a bag she's unrolled. While clad in black as usual, her cloak's been hung on the wall, half covering a set of chains, and her top sleeveless (more of a wrap than a top, really), her gloves off and on the table near her.

She turns from what she's doing, not seeming to mind the interruption, and walks over. ]

Does one of you have a stun baton on you? [ She addresses the troopers, putting out a hand expectantly, and one of them is all too happy to hand the weapon over to her. ] Excellent.

[ Her gaze then finally lands on Poe and the smile she gives him is far from kind. ] This was so effective on you the other day. It made me curious just how effective it might be. [ She activates it as she speaks, and her words are about all the warning he'll get before she jabs him in the side with the baton. ]

Edited 2018-06-23 21:13 (UTC)

[ he doesn't know what to make of his short reprieve. it should be a good thing — being left alone in what wasn't a cell. receiving food, even if it wasn't great. at some point towards the middle of the cycle, he tries his luck at getting out the door. and is immediately shoved back inside the room. "shoved" is a nice way of putting it, but he relents. tries to figure something else out. that's what he ends up spending the majority of his time doing — lying down, being still, trying to listen to the footsteps outside of his room. sooner or later an opportunity to get away would present itself. and then, he could just get to the hangar, and then —

his scheming is cut short by his escort coming to cart him out. hopeful isn't really an emotion he can feel anymore (except in correlation to all his hypothetical escape plans), but his curiosity is piqued as they go past the throne room into and different room.

ah. so. this isn't an improvement after all. it's just another, bigger interrogation chamber, he realized. one that had been used many times before, judging by the smell. he tries to keep his expression blank in the face of all of this — but especially in the face of his reunion with kylo ren.

he knows what's going to happen as soon as she asks for the stun baton. he can jump to conclusions enough to know where this is going. he's going to get stunned again and he is not looking forward to it. the calm expression is ditched as he tries to struggle against the troopers at his sides, but doesn't get very far before she jabs him.

there are really only two sensations after that — the sharp (literally) electric pain that courses through him, and the sensation of falling as he collapses on the ground like a sack of potatoes. he blacks out completely for a couple minutes, but will come back to consciousness as furious and disoriented as ever. ]

[ She watches his reaction with interest, eyes following as he drops to the floor. Her head tilts and, much like back in the hangar, she steps forward to nudge him with a boot. Making a thoughtful noise, she regards the baton a moment as she deactivates it and turns to go add it to the items on the table. ] I think I'll hang on to this a little while, it might come in handy.

"Do you want the prisoner on the rack?"

No, leave him. I'll take care of things from here. You may both return to your duties.

[ The troopers leave and when the door slides shut behind them Kylo makes a gesture to lock it, not desiring any interruptions now. It's been a long day and she's keen to unwind with a little stress relief of the torture variety.

Surprisingly, while Poe's unconscious she leaves him be. Mostly so she can finish with what she was doing when he and the troopers arrived. The assortment of blades that she's laying out are favorites of hers; she enjoys the up close and personal nature of using such implements, being able to fully see and feel the pain that they cause. It's all the easier to exploit someone when she can see precisely what her ministrations are doing.

When Kylo hears him wake she casts a glance over her shoulder. ] Oh good, I was hoping you wouldn't be out long. Feeling comfortably numb?

[ when he comes to, it takes him a minute to remember exactly where he is. what was happening before, what's happening now.

but sure enough, after a couple seconds, it all comes rushing back. the floor. the smell. kylo ren's voice. he tries to move, only to immediately remember that he can't. well, mostly can't. he remembers the last time, when they captured him. if he tries hard enough, he can do some brief, awkward, stilted movement. it was something like that when he woke up this time. an attempt to sit upright. but his back barely even made it off the ground before thudding back down again. ]

Nothing comfortable about this.

[ he's very loud in expressing his contempt for his whole situation. the absence of any kind of feeling was not something he felt especially great about having in the presence of kylo ren and in a place like this. it probably meant something worse was on the way. ]

[ Turning around fully, she notes how he tries to move in some way. It's less successful than the time before, back in the hangar, and makes her more curious for how long it might be before he can manage that much of an attempt. She couldn't say that she'd made use of stunning a person very often, if at all, really -- why stun someone when she can use the Force to achieve near the same thing? -- so seeing how long it takes for various ranges of motion to return is useful to her. ]

No? Perhaps I should help you get more comfortable.

[ She walks over to him and uses a foot to push him flat on his back. It's tempting to outright kick him, actually, just for a little visceral satisfaction. Another thought comes to mind though, one that has her grinning smugly, and she sinks down to his level, straddling his torso. One hand rests on his chest, her fingers lightly drumming as she looks down at him. ]

You know, I think I'm going to keep those officer's quarters empty, just for you. Considering how well you performed, I could see you getting rewarded like that fairly frequently. Would you like that, Poe? Having a little comfortable privacy rather than calling a cell your home for the foreseeable future? [ Regardless of any reply she would ultimately do what she wanted, which she's sure he knows as well, but it's still useful to know where his mind is at. ]

pretends i shouldn't be running out the door to work in minutes :x

👌

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icon game on point as always

i try my best

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