( A few of the last vestiges of rationality that manage to hang on by their own frayed ends persistently rationalize that most of what he's doing is still an academic choice. There is still room to make the argument that he's testing a hypothesis or pushing the limits and boundaries of this thing that they have both tried to be rid of at varying points and to varying degrees. Snoke had insisted that it was his creation, his manipulative experiment, that had bridged the gap, and so it stands to reason that examining it to its very end is not only necessary because of the tactical aspects of occupying one end of a direct connection to an enemy but also because the bond's continued existence itself could call into question some hard truths about the true status of that voice in the dark, that cold shadow lurking in the back of his mind.
He could also blame this lapse in judgment on the bleed between Rey and himself through their connection and claim that he was drunk, but Kylo doubts that the swimming sensation in his head has anything to do with blood alcohol content. But it's fun to explore it as an option. He sits up.
Of course, nothing happens at first, not for a while, and he listens to the whir of the shuttle around him, cutting through hyperspace like a blade. Of course, nothing happens at first but when it does, it's as subtle as it's always been, enough that he doesn't even notice at first. It's the drop in air pressure and then its rise, gravity pressing down on his shoulders, the back of his neck. He's still sitting there, knees akimbo, heels pressed nearly together on the floor, fingers curled under the edge of the cot. He doesn't even have to look behind him to know. )
Comfortable? ( He's asked the same question of at least one other person before, though this time the sarcasm is laced with a little less hostility than it had been then. )
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Date: 2020-12-02 02:08 am (UTC)He could also blame this lapse in judgment on the bleed between Rey and himself through their connection and claim that he was drunk, but Kylo doubts that the swimming sensation in his head has anything to do with blood alcohol content. But it's fun to explore it as an option. He sits up.
Of course, nothing happens at first, not for a while, and he listens to the whir of the shuttle around him, cutting through hyperspace like a blade. Of course, nothing happens at first but when it does, it's as subtle as it's always been, enough that he doesn't even notice at first. It's the drop in air pressure and then its rise, gravity pressing down on his shoulders, the back of his neck. He's still sitting there, knees akimbo, heels pressed nearly together on the floor, fingers curled under the edge of the cot. He doesn't even have to look behind him to know. )
Comfortable? ( He's asked the same question of at least one other person before, though this time the sarcasm is laced with a little less hostility than it had been then. )