#snokc

THESE ARE THE THEORIES I AM HERE FOR

         it happens unexpectedly, a slight jump given at the looming voice. robes have been discarded after training, a pull on the wounds that have yet to fully heal. bacta can only go so far          something the droid ( the one he hadn’t crushed as pain became inescapable, fists curling together as power surged without his control ) had mentioned in passing. once he had been subdued, however, and taken to wherever the supreme leader had demanded ( he is still unsure, still unaware, truly, of this place and what it holds ) the ache from his failings had lessened to a dull throb. yet skin pulls and resurfacing scars cause a hiss, hand going to side and face in an attempt to stifle such insubordination of his own body.                  ‘ apologies, supreme leader. this will pass soon enough. ‘he wills it to. he cannot seem weak in the face of his mentor.

          how do traitors smell? do they smell of smoke, of fear, of desperation? do they smell of sand, of water, of fire? do their shoulders hang when they speak? this one has a mind like a mantra, waves which crash ‘gainst the hollows of her mind relentlessly: why am i here, why am i here, why am i here? it beats even as she narrows her eyes && glares towards the dark floor. she will not tremble before him. she has chosen better.     “     … no. i won’t.     ”

        ❛  if you’re going to kill me; just do it. i won’t tell you anything i know.  ❜

              ‘ supreme leader            ‘ he starts but does not finish, scar still burning, singeing, the skin of his face. it is a reminder, forever etched into his being, of the failure he had committed. he stands before the other with slight trepidation, one he tries to squash before it can grow. there is a rage in him that shakes gloved palms, sinews and muscles straining against the fabric. breathing echoes the beat of his heart as he awaits judgement, awaits strength. he needs more from him to succeed. more power, more rage. he has taken his lessons to heart but it is not enough. it will never be enough in terms of the girl. he must crush her beneath his palm before she rises too far to the wrong side.                                ‘ the girl          she is not as we expected. ‘

star wars sentences.

                                              ( You say nothing, you ｐｒｅｔｅｎｄ.                                              Secretly, you’re glad for the morning that                                              chases away the cloying scent of terror. )