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[ he can't feel anything, but he can see it. he watches it. the knife going in, the blood seeping out. his lizard brain is screaming that this is bad; even if he can't feel it, he should feel it. he has to look away. it's too much. some of the color drains from his face.

but he still doesn't feel anything. he's not sure what saying that out loud would accomplish. he's pretty sure she'd keep going whether he felt anything or not. ]

That's my only shirt.

[he mutters some nonsense while his brain goes around in circles going through this entire situation. ]

[ She notes his reaction, how he's looked away but there's no hint of pain on his features. How curious. There's a part of her actually disappointed in the stun effect -- she loves a good reaction -- but at the same time she knows he'll feel it eventually. Which is its own point of curiosity; will the pain all hit at once or will it filter in gradually, much like how she expects sensation overall to return? ]

Oh, is it? I hadn't realized. [ Her sarcasm in this instance is abundantly clear. Still, her empty hand goes to the collar of his shirt, lightly plucking at the fabric. ] Perhaps I should help you out of it then.

[ Rather than make a motion to do so, her hand holds the fabric away from his neck, giving herself a clear view as she brings the blade in close. This time the cut is shallow, but just as slow, as she draws the blade against where neck and shoulder meet. She only cuts deep enough to ensure it will bleed and lifts the blade away from his skin after about two inches. No need for a terribly long cut, particularly in such a vulnerable place.

She wipes the blade off on his shirt before again looking to his face. ]

[ this time, there's an almost imperceptible flinch in his expression — almost, but still readable. sensation is starting to come back in little waves. the pain from the cut near his neck is something sharp and small, like a paper cut. the stab wound to his shoulder is a dull, pulsating kind of pain. he can feel the blood, he thinks. some kind of dampness.

he spends so much time being distracted by that, he forgets to dissent. ]

That's okay. I'm gonna keep it on.

[ he saw two paths: one was being tortured by kylo and ruining his shirt, and the other was her taking off her shirt and leaving more room for attention he was trying to avoid. naturally, he leaps for the former. he already ruined his pants once for her anyway, so. ]

[ The hint of a flinch catches her attention. Honestly, she's far more interested in his reactions, in causing him pain and general discomfort, than she is in anything else. So much so that his eventual reply more or less goes unheard by her. A good torture session could be its own pleasing reward, but then again, she's somewhat naturally inclined toward pain.

Humming a thoughtful noise, she sits back and looks him over, mentally comparing the wounds. Did location make a difference? Or perhaps it was depth, with sensation returning closer to the surface first? So many questions. So many variables. Her gaze shifts over to the table. To stick with what she has or to change it up already? Decisions, decisions.

When her attention returns to Poe her free hand takes one of his wrists and moves his hand off the ground so as to be within easy reach and view. Perhaps the further from the heart the greater the chance of feeling returning. Although even as she begins to carefully prick each fingertip with the blade she comes to the conclusion that the opposite would make more sense. ]

Feeling anything yet?

[ She doesn't look at him with her question, instead still looking at his hand. Her hand shifts from his wrist, fingers feeling the back of his hand as her thumb runs over his palm, searching for a good spot to stab him where she's less likely to catch a tendon. Oh well, did it really matter? Most anything could be healed, if not by the medical staff and droids, then by the Force.

Still, rather than going the arguably most harmful route of driving the blade through the middle of his palm, she sinks the blade in between the knuckles of his middle two fingers, her other hand holding his steady until the blade pokes through the other side. Her lips twitch in a ghost of a smirk at the blood that quickly flows, and as she carefully pulls the blade back out she wonders how much damage his hands could take until he wouldn't be able to fly again.

Not that she's planning on letting him anywhere near a ship... although my, wouldn't it be glorious if the Resistance surrendered and it was Poe who flew her to accept their surrender? Oh, she's going to have to remember that idea. ]

[ there's a vague shadow of a feeling from the pricking, and then something sharp (still numb, not at full capacity, if that were the case he'd be screaming) when she drives the blade clean through his hand. his eyes go wide — not at the pain, but at the mental panic of what he's seeing. he knows what she's doing, or at least whatever thought she's at least toying with.

she's going for his hands. she's hitting him where it would hurt the most emotionally instead of physically. pretty hard to be a pilot if you can't use your hands properly. the little spark of hope in him that refused to die wanted to believe that there was a chance he'd get to fly out of here. he didn't know when or why or how, but he did know that it wasn't going to happen if something happened to his hands.

and he hated just how hard this blow towards him actually hit. warning sirens go off in his head. ]

Does it make a difference?

[ he felt like she was likely to keep going no matter what his response was. and even asking that question was just as liable to make it worse as it was to make it better, probably. he's slowly acclimating himself to these no win scenarios. nothing he said or did actually made much of a difference in the outcomes. everything was entirely dependent on kylo ren's whims.

there was something equal parts nauseating and depressing in that realization. ]

Yes, actually.

[ She looks back to him then, attention drawn back by the question as much as the noise of his thoughts. It's interesting to her to sense the edge of panic but not so much pain. All this experimenting would be useful but Kylo's already decided she'll simply stick to her usual methods of 'stunning' in similar scenarios. Or turn down the setting on the tool if possible.

(Absently she also wonders how the electric stun compares to Force lightning and whether the latter could achieve such an effect without killing a person. Luckily for Poe, however, that was a skill she never saw fit to pursue. She'd been shocked several times in what felt like the distant past but while she recalls the pain she can't recall ever feeling stunned.)

Eyes running over his features, she's blatantly honest in her next statement. ] I've never used one of those stun batons on someone before. I want to know when feeling and sensation return to you, when you regain control of your body.

[ A light sigh that slips out is the only sign of any discontent Kylo has with the overall situation. Once she's finished speaking she lightly moves his arm, pulling his hand in front of her over his chest so she can more easily see his face as she 'works'. Despite the blood she holds his hand firmly and this time presses the blade into the heel of his hand, although she doesn't cut near as deep. ]

[ okay. maybe it wasn't as bad as he decided it was going to be. (wasn't it?) it doesn't feel much better while she keeps stabbing at his hand. It's sharper now. all of it is sharper. the pain, the feeling of blood flowing out in time with his pulse. the pain. he feels vaguely light-headed now, unsure if it's from the blood loss or just the sight of all that blood being where it didn't belong.

he exhales loudly, 90% out of exasperation for his situation and 10% because he feels like he needs some heavy breathing. ]

I can kind of feel it. Not all the way. Maybe halfway. It hurts, but not near as much as it should. Most stun batons don't usually take someone out that long. For the record. Probably coulda looked that up.

[ that moment when you're kind of out of it enough to no longer care what you do or say 👌 ]

[ Her head tilts slightly as she listens to him, slowly becoming aware of more pain from him as well. His response is more helpful than expected. Exactly what she wants to know, actually.

She gives him a look at his parting remark even as she moves his arm and hand to rest back against the floor next to him. ]

I could have, but why do that when I have someone I can experiment on?

[ Setting the knife on the ground beside them, she holds her hand out to summon another off the table to her. At first it appears perhaps to be a broken knife, just the hilt of one, and she toys with it in her hand for a moment as her gaze settles back on him. Surely a mere knife hilt is harmless, right? ]

Have you ever been struck with a lightsaber before? [ Her thumb presses a small button in the hilt and a pale white blade of light appears only a few inches long. She glances to the knife and then back to him. ] Granted, this is no lightsaber, but it's the same in principle.

[ Attention shifting from his face, Kylo presses her free hand to his injured shoulder, but not before tearing the hole in his shirt a little more so she can better see the wound she created. The hand on his shoulder is to keep it steady in case he feels the pain strongly enough to move. Then she carefully presses the tip of the blade against the wound to cauterize it. She didn't want him bleeding out on her, but he didn't need to know that was half the reason for her changing knives. ]

[ his eyes go wide at the hilt and the lightsaber question. no, he had not, but he saw what happened to finn. or at least, the part where he was carted off to medical and shoved in a bacta bag. finn just about got torn in half.

he's already recreating that nightmare for himself when his activates the hilt. it's smaller than any lightsaber he's ever seen (not that he's actually seen that many in the flesh), but the size didn't do much to assuage his newfound flavor of dread.

when she presses the knife down, he struggles against it. barely, since full range of motion still eludes him, but it's pretty apparent that he can feel it and isn't enjoying what he feels. despite it being limited to one space, the small but deep cut in his shoulder, it feels like the pain is spreading through his entire body somehow. he closes his eyes and clenches his teeth. it's so much, and he knows it could be even worse if he weren't still fighting off the stun baton effects. no smart words leave his mouth now. something between a groan and a scream slips out from behind his teeth, though. ]

[ Ah, yes, this is more what she likes. From the look of fear on his face to the slight struggle he offers to the sound of pain that her simple action gets out of him.

She lifts the knife after another moment or two and inspects the wound, brushing her fingers over it to make sure it no longer bleeds. Satisfied, she starts to turn her attention to the cut near his neck but then she notices how he's closed his eyes. Not one to overlook an opportunity to deliver a lovely surprise, she leans up a little, the fingers of her free hand threading in his hair and the heel of her hand against his forehead as she holds his head against the floor, wanting him still. At the same time her other hand brings the knife close, to where he can likely feel some heat against his face. ]

Keep your eyes closed and try not to move. We wouldn't want any accidents.

[ Of course, if she wants to make sure he doesn't move she can always use the Force. Which is the backup plan to prevent any major damage should he struggle too much, either by choice or involuntarily.

She waits a moment to be certain he's heard her before she leans in closer and begins to draw the blade across his forehead at an angle, above his left eye. Her intent is to mark him in a mirror of how Rey struck her, although not as severe given the smaller blade and the fact she was only using just enough pressure to 'cut' through a few layers of skin and create a mark. Kylo's own scars were long gone, healed part by technology and the rest through the Force. She would have Poe healed up when she was through, probably. Most likely. No need to ruin a pretty face so soon. ]

[ it's hard to not immediately open your eyes the second someone tells you to close your eyes. especially when she grabs his head and forces it down. he feels that much.

there's a feeling bubbling up inside him — he hates it, but immediately knows what it is. fear. He's scared of what's going to happen to him and of how helpless he feels inside this moment. he knows from past experience that if he put his entire body into it, he might be able to jerk away from her. even that much resistance would be worth it.

but he can feel the heat against his forehead, above his eye. if he tried to move now, it'd be worse than the wrong end of the stun gun and probably worse than the normal knife had been, too.

she was cutting into his face.

despite still being some degree of immobile, it felt like all his effort was going into not moving away or screaming or doing anything that would interrupt the knife and make it worse. was it vanity? maybe a little bit of vanity, but mostly pain.

when he thinks maybe she's done, he asks in a shudder: ]

Why? What are you doing?

Sending a message to someone. [ Her reply comes easily. Implying that she's going to record this in some manner. A pity that she already sent his droid back. ] Indirect payback, if you will.

[ Having lifted the knife away at his eyebrow, she turns his head slightly away from her so she has a better view of the side of his face. A moment later she has the blade against his skin again, cutting across his cheek and down almost to his jawline. Kylo's careful, oh so careful, aware that it wouldn't take much additional pressure to turn a mostly superficial wound into something far worse.

Once finished she lets out a breath she didn't realize she was holding and sits up a little to look at her handiwork. ]

You should consider yourself thankful I'm not using my saber for this. It would be quite unpleasant. [ And likely kill him, she imagines. She credits the Force fully for why she didn't end up half blind when Rey wounded her. If the young Jedi thought she could protect the Resistance and its assets, Kylo would show her just how wrong a thought that was. No one could protect Poe now, and any who tried would only find themselves meeting a similar fate. ]

[ it's kind of insulting, that it's not even about him. he's caught in the middle of some kind of fight that has nothing to do with him. but that's just salt in the wound, and the wound stings so much that it doesn't really matter. metaphorical and actual wound. enough sensation is back in his face that it burns, burns enough to make his eyes water. but he's not crying. nope. his eyes are just watering.

he has to stay strong. find some part of himself and cling to it instead of breaking completely. instead of letting pain and fear warp him. ]

I can't believe you're this jealous of my looks.

[ Satisfied with the marks she's made, Kylo turns the blade off so there's no risk of accidental damage at the moment. She doesn't want to do anything else until she can capture a nice clear image to send off. The rest of the Resistance will only see a wound but Rey will know exactly what it is. They should all be thankful she's being so kind in it being more of a superficial wound.

She notices the tears then and she faintly smirks. Leaning down, she flicks her tongue at his cheek, tasting the salt of his tears and the pain that's causing them. ]

On the contrary, if I weren't so fond of your good looks you would likely be screaming in pain right now. [ She releases her hold on his head and trails a finger along the line of the cut, delicately brushing over his eyelid in the process. ] This can all be healed but if I let the blade near your eye... well, we'd just have to replace it.

[ Lightly patting his cheek, Kylo sits up and finally moves to get off of him, taking both knives back to the table as she moves to get her communicator out of her cloak. There's video surveillance in the room of course, but she didn't plan to send footage of the torture. She just wants to share this one little piece. ]

[ wow. she's licking his face. he didn't think he could like anything less than that blade cutting into his face, but here it was. he found it.

the thought of her stabbing? burning? whatever. obliterating his eye made his stomach churn, because he wasn't so sure she wouldn't do it anyway, if pressed hard enough.

he realizes, though, now that she's given him a moment alone, that he can move again. he tries flexing his fingers and toes experimentally, waiting for her to be distracted. there was nothing to be gained by moving now, though. thinking of a plan felt beyond his anxiety-ridden attention span, not when he was this on-edge. but maybe if he kept still, kept that card to his chest. he could gain some kind of advantage.

what kind of advantage? again, no idea. ]

Well, you know, I've always been real interested in cybernetics. Maybe my next eye could see ultraviolet to infrared, like a Keshian.

[ so, instead, he continues to run his mouth. ]

Is that so? I'll have to remember that. [ It almost sounds like they're having a casual conversation as she replies without turning around, adjusting settings on the device to prepare for taking an image. ] Perhaps if you become no longer physically useful to me I'll replace you piece by piece with cybernetics.

[ In a way it's idle conversation because such a thing wasn't presently on her long list of things she could inflict upon him. Dismemberment wasn't a casual thing after all and usually reserved for those ultimately to be killed. Taking a hand though... she supposes it's not out of the realm of possibility if he truly angered her at some point in the near future. Or cutting off somewhere below the knee, make it more difficult for him to get away.

So far he's done nothing to draw her ire, and she was interested in keeping him whole for the time being. There's plenty to occupy herself with that small parameter limiting her torture choices.

Walking back over to him, Kylo again sinks down to kneel, straddling his torso. She's focused on what she's doing and not so much paying attention to any little movements he may or may not be making. ]

Be good and hold still for me. [ The way she says it is like she doesn't expect anything but compliance and she reaches with her free hand to turn his head a little so she can get a clear shot of the cuts on his face. ]

[ that moment when running your mouth sends you to a place you hadn't anticipated. should have have expected kylo to come back with that? probably. did he? no. he was too busy trying to stay as still as possible.

and he stays still. still enough for her to get one good shot, maybe. and then he decides to do something stupid. (more stupid than talking as much as he has.) it's pointless, but all he is is a bunch of pointless acts of defiance in a trenchcoat, at the end.

in a rush, he tries to push her off of him (probably smearing blood all over her with his untreated hand) and tries to scramble away. where??? he has no idea. not here. out of this room at the very least. ]

[ There's no reason for her to worry about anticipating actions right now and so she isn't. Her attention is fully focused on what she's doing and nothing tips her off that being stunned has wore off. If anything she's probably a little too focused, wondering to herself at the young Jedi's reaction to seeing the similar wound inflicted on another who was arguably innocent.

So Kylo's caught off guard when he moves, confusion temporarily interrupting her thoughts. She half falls to the side, catching herself with an elbow and her other hand so she doesn't drop the comm device, though it shortly gets set on the floor and pushed out of the way. The blood merits no attention; it's not as if it bothers her.

There's a moment where she considers letting him fleetingly feel victory. The door was locked and even if he got it open in his frantic state there's nowhere for him to go, nowhere she or someone else can't catch him. But instead a very predator-prey reaction comes to the forefront.

Eyes narrowing, she pushes herself up and lunges after him. There's no use of the Force to stop him, just pure physicality, grabbing at his clothes and clutching at him in an effort to get on top of him and pin him down. At the very least she wants to bring him to the floor and, assuming she's successful, a knee will dig into his back and one hand will go to his injured shoulder, pressing her fingers against the wound. ]

[ he's usually fast, all reflexes (lightning reflexes not just limited to his hands in the cockpit), but he's still sluggish from being stunned. shoving her off was a lot. he couldn't sustain that kind of sudden movement long-term yet.

so his "escape" plan doesn't last very long. it doesn't take that much to stop him. there's the uncomfortable yet increasingly familiar feeling of her weight on top of him, and then searing pain from the pressure on his wound. his vision blacks out for a minute and he makes a mangled animal noise. he still tries to scramble for purchase away from her, smearing more blood on the ground from his hand. it feels shaky, he realizes. from all the blood loss and from the trauma of the injury itself, now that he can actually feel it.

he tries to yell "get off," but no words actually come out. only more pained noises instead. ]

[ It's satisfying, 'catching' him, yet it doesn't strike her half as much as the sound that comes out of him. By the Force, that did things to her. For a moment all her senses get from him is pure pain and she relishes in it. ]

Where are you going, Poe? We're not done yet.

[ Her hand lets up on his shoulder as she shifts her position, moving so her knees press into his sides and a hand presses at the back of his shoulder in an effort to keep him down. The other hand grabs his hair to tug his head back, and she hopes it makes that cut near his neck hurt. All the blood he's smearing everywhere draws her gaze and absently she considers those wounds will need to be tended to in some manner. But not right now.

Right now she's more interested in leaning in close, listening to his pulse and his breathing for a moment before her voice comes out low next to his ear. ]

So much fight in you, I love it. Although I seem to remember wanting you to tell me when you could move again, not show me. [ Her hand presses harder on his shoulder though she doesn't reach to outright aggravate the wound. ] Can't say I was planning to put you on your stomach tonight but I can work with this. Perhaps it's a different sort of torture you're wanting, hmm? Tired of being cut and bled?

[ the scar running down his face burns. the cauterized wound in his shoulder burns. his hand burns, his neck burns, blood gently seeping out from it, too. these points don't comprise his entire body, but in this moment they feel like they do. he feels like a raw nerve. a raw severed nerve, all blood and pain.

he doesn't know what she means when she suggests something besides being cut and bled, but he has a few ideas and can't imagine liking them any more than he's liking this. he remains still, but tense. coiled up. like he can do anything to move from under her. (he can't.) ]

Maybe we can go without the torture. [ if he acts like himself, mouthy and insolent, he doesn't have to choose. :) ]

But this is a torture room, it's what you were brought here for. Whatever else would we do here? [ Her tone is somewhat mocking as she replies and she releases her hold on his hair with a light shove. Though she sits up a little her hand doesn't immediately move away, instead briefly taking hold of the collar of his shirt to pull it away from his neck so she can eye the skin, and her fingers seek out the spot at the base of his neck, right at the top of his spine. ]

You know, a slight injury at just the right place can swiftly paralyze a person from the neck down. Enough pressure on a certain bone -- [ said as her fingers pointedly apply a little pressure, feeling the bones so close beneath his skin. ] -- or a cut in just the right place with a blade. The pain doesn't last long, from what I've been told.

[ She sits up fully then, straddling his lower back, and her hands slowly run down his back on either side of his spine, her eyes following the path. ] I hear the traitor survived being sliced open with my lightsaber. Perhaps next time I'll recreate that. Hurt your friends through hurting you, demoralize them with footage of the damage they didn't try to prevent.

Fearless Poe Dameron, heart of the Resistance. [ Chuckling, she leans down again and reaches to lightly grab his throat, half-purposely pressing her hand against the cut. ] Not so fearless now, are you?

His name is Finn.

[ it comes out in a quiet voice, hardly more than a whisper. spat out despite the sharp stinging from the cut so close to his throat. he doesn't know what else to say, because literally anything else would betray his emotions. the sick dread he feels as she runs her hands down his spine, envisioning the kind of helplessness that would accompany being paralyzed like that.

and, if not that, and he doesn't want to talk about how finn close finn came to not surviving. he was there when they brought him to medical. he saw what happened before the bacta bag. (he saw what happened after the bacta bag.) when she says "recreate" he doesn't know if she means superficially, like the scar on his face ... or something more genuine. he's pretty sure he doesn't want to know.

there's a lot of fear churning underneath the surface, barely contained below "his name is finn." ]

[ Her lips press together in a brief thoughtful expression at the words he seems to barely get out. As always, what he chooses to say and not say is interesting to her. This instance in particular feels like she's found a little string just waiting for her to tug on it.

Kylo releases his throat, shifting a little to one side so she can get a look at his face. ]

FN-2187 is a traitor and deserves to be executed like one when the time comes. Don't worry, I'll make sure you have a good view when it happens. I wouldn't want you to miss seeing the light leave his eyes. [ A hand lifts to lightly run over Poe's hair, almost like one would pet a domesticated animal. Her precious little unwilling pet. ] Or perhaps when FN-2187 is at last captured you can make the case for why I should be merciful. It's what you'll do, won't you? Beg for the lives of your friends.

[ She's fully confident the day will come, whether it takes weeks or months to get there. Kylo could have sent the full wrath of the First Order along with the droid if she wanted to. But she wants it done once and for all. That means destroying the outside layers so there's nothing left to scatter when the core is reached. Remove their allies, shrink the playing field, pick them off one by one if necessary.

And she fully intends to keep Poe alive for it. To let him witness the complete and utter destruction of the Resistance, to watch her wring the life from them until he is all that remains. One final ember glowing in the palm of her hand. ]

[ he looks at her with anger — and hurt. the hurt is different. like maybe he feels a little something more than friendship for the traitor. she tried to strike a nerve and ended up hitting the jugular. he couldn't stand it. he couldn't stand the thought of losing any resistance members — each loss more personal as the circle drew closer — but finn was ... finn. finn saved his life. finn gave him hope when he didn't have any. finn was hope in the form of a person.

so he gets an early start on that begging. ]

His name is Finn. [ his mind races, scrambling to hold on to something that isn't a simple "leave him alone." ] You could —

[ as he thinks of a way to save him, he almost chokes on the words. she could recondition him instead of kill him. it's selfish. it's too much. he can't finish it. he knows finn would rather die. he wanted to keep him alive but it wouldn't even be him anymore. just someone else with his face. ]

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