#bsaeterna

only so i can kick ur ass

@bsaeterna

Although it had only been her first day in the city, Red felt as though the experience of arriving here had taken up an entire week already. From the range of emotions mixing inside of her-- the confusion, the frustration, the sorrow that built into her empty throat-- to being forced to comb through her apparent new home; struggling through crowds that she had no interest in being part of. She had been thrust from Cloudbank feeling absolutely exhausted, and it only seemed to follow her into Hive City; flashes of what she had experienced at home plaguing every thought that crossed her mind.

At this point, Red knew that there was no hope of escaping. At least.. for the time being. Her body was screaming at her to cease moving for the rest of the day, despite that she had no interest in doing so.. however, the continued insistence from her weapon was what finally brought the woman to resignation.

[ We need to check out our-- your new apartment anyway, right? ] the Transistor spoke; his voice holding a softer tone than usual. [ C’mon, Red. You’ve done more than enough today. ]

The wistful look in the woman’s sky blue eyes was all she had to offer for an answer, as she finally took herself to the building where she was supposed to live. It was nothing like Highrise, that was for sure; but if she at least had a bed to sleep in, Red really didn’t care about anything else. It had taken her a few minutes, but finally, she found the correct door that belonged to her; and without a moment’s hesitation, reached down to place her hand on the door knob.

.. which had, surprisingly.. grabbed onto someone else’s hand, instead.

Looking upwards, Red suddenly found herself next to someone she had never seen before; a man, perhaps close in age to her, was also attempting to get into the same apartment as her. How.. had she not seen him? Had she been so tired that she didn’t even realize someone else was in the hallway with her? Blinking, she suddenly felt herself embarrassed; glancing down to their hands before quickly pulling hers away from him. 

[ .. uhh.. hi? ]

power has a costume of its very own. it’s a skin someone can choose to wear, or shape to fit their own body. every inch, every hair, it’s all presented in such a way that it commands & it leads. some people choose their costume --- judgemental eyes, a quick tongue and a taste for iron. others are thrust into its suit --- weighted responsibility marking them with tired words and lines of exhaustion etched into their brow. but power has an easier design, threaded into the smartness & the regalia of a uniform, fitted and firm. it’s so easy to notice someone in that sense who holds so much power within their hand, by the tidy organisations of their emblems upon their chest, by the manner of which their coat tails flap in the breeze, but the shine of their boot and by the crisp finish of their studded jacket. yes, power has a flavour; something recognisable and incredibly hard to loosen, regardless of what you find yourself doing.

for general hux, at least, he was yet to shed much of his uniform. his costume consisted of entirely black, smarter clothes than often worn for a simple days work. freshly pressed, he never appeared dishevelled, nor did he ever wish to. his costume was that of a military man after all, his mind long since having had that drilled in, repeated notion of tidiness & well kept grooming. he retained his name as general also, for there was hardly any real reason to mark himself down nor deny himself the position he had worked so hard for. so much had bled for the role, so much of his strength & resolve --- he was almost bred to not surrender such a thing, his grasp at power a resolve he would undoubtedly die for. indeed, even as he wandered by himself through the halls of this one particular building in the city, he was dressed as though he were soon to give command back on board his vessel, turning a sharp eye to the horizon as he set the course & deployed the firepower.

it was supposedly a firearm store, supplying broken or otherwise forgotten about weapons which former civilians or even older, far less interested ones had discarded during their visit. beaten guns, pistols lacking triggers, swords with their blades halved -- they were fragments of history, as if he was looking upon a memorial of war. he soon came to find that whilst he had initially thought the place to be devoid of life, that he wasn’t entirely alone at all. sharp footsteps sounded in the silence of his own and eventually, the two lonely ships did meet somewhere in the middle of the ocean of the weaponry graveyard, both standing before a fire-smouldered ruin of what once was a large cannon. “ war is unavoidable, even here, it seems. “ he voiced his thoughts aloud, thoughts of how war bred chaos, how chaos bred power.

PICK MY MUSE UP;💪 - over the shoulder.

[ What. Are. You. Doing. ]

If she could laugh, Red was sure she would be doubling over at this point; her arms circled around her waist anyway, with one hand covering the smile that took over her mouth. Ravus had wanted to hold onto the Transistor; test its weight, see what kind of sword it was, and Red didn’t mind sharing it with him. What she hadn’t expected, however, was for the man to suddenly strike a pose with her weapon; the Transistor gallantly resting over his shoulder, with Ravus looking just as proud to be holding it. 

The Transistor didn’t seem all to fond of being used as a prop to be posed with; however, since it seemed to make Red happy.. he wasn’t going to complain. Too much.