[IC CONTACT]

[photophobic]

You should know where to find me.
But if you leave a message here, I will see it.

Comments

[pummelgranite]

Uh huh. You're a big bad world-ender.

[ The thought churns her gut. An entire planet, blotted out. Will that be her someday? ]

[photophobic]

Starkiller? No. I doubt General Hux would enjoy me taking credit for his achievements.
Mine is a more personal touch.

[pummelgranite]

Quality over quantity, huh?

[ Her head tips. It still makes Laura queasy, but Persephone doesn't let it show. ]

[photophobic]

[ It doesn't quite sit as comfortably with Kylo as it once had, either- but similarly, he wasn't about to let that show. ]

I prefer a sharp focus to a broad gesture. Most of the time.

[ Assuming the inspection over, he fixes his eyes carefully on her face- savouring the unfamiliar power seeping out into the air around her. Yes. This is what a God should be like. ]

[pummelgranite]

Hmm.

[ A noncommittal noise, and she fishes a pack of cigarettes out of a pocket. Well, she's on break now anyway, right? ]

You smoke, Kylo Ren?

[photophobic]

[ He doesn't. In fact, somehow he's never actually been in a position to accept or decline an offer of one before, and it shows. There is a very obvious curiosity in the way his eyes track the packet in her hand. ]

I haven't.

[pummelgranite]

What, never?

[ She takes one out of the pack, puts it in her mouth. With a click of her fingers and a little sizzle of magenta power, the tip lights up. ]

Well, it's expensive, addictive, and will absolutely kill you if you do it long enough.

[ and she offers the pack back to him. ]

[photophobic]

[ The less said about things he had never done at an embarrassingly late stage in life the better. ]

Anything will kill you if you do it long enough.

[ Was there ever a chance he was going to say no? Unlikely. And after that hard sell, there's no way he's backing down. He plucks one of the curiously light paper sticks from the packet and examines it, rolling it between his fingers. Of course, he can't flick fire from his hands, so he locks eyes with her and slips the coloured end between his lips as she had done. ]

[pummelgranite]

Touche.

[ Another snap, and this time the power sits just above the palm of her hand. Stationary, it looks a bit like a perpetually reblooming flower made of light (though certainly not Light). She holds it up for him. ]

Inhale, as slow as you can.

this tag sponsored by lucky strike or some shit

[photophobic]

[ The level of concentration on his face is mildly comical as he follows her instruction. It takes a moment, but when he finally pulls that first, slow drag on the cigarette he's fortunate enough not to have accidentally overdone it.
Potentially embarrassing cough and splutter avoided, he draws the smoke into his mouth rather than anything deeper, mostly- it's strange as it rolls over his tongue- a rich flavour he can't quite pin down. ]

[pummelgranite]

There you go. Feel the buzz yet?

[photophobic]

[ He exhales slowly, feeling the smoke slip out past his lips, the flavour lingering- it's strange, having that visual reminder of breath. That alone, he decides, he likes. It has an almost meditative quality.
Nothing he feels resembles a buzz though, certainly nothing beyond the low-level hum of Persephone's presence, the otherworldly tug of the Force bending around her cathedral. It's possible any effects are simply being drowned out by his already heightened state of, for lack of a better word, arousal.

He examines the cigarette between his fingers, watching the end of it burn to ashes for a moment, and looks back at her face. ]

No. Am I supposed to?

[pummelgranite]

Might, might not. It's kind of subtle.

[ She lets her own smoke billow out her nose, feeling it burn as it passes through her skull. With the septum piercing and all, the smoke gives her a sort of snorting-beast charm. ]

[photophobic]

I feel like I should give you something in return.

[ He lifts the cigarette to his lips again, drawing the smoke in deeper this time- contemplating- there's a sharper edge to the experience this time. Much more than that, and he'd definitely be coughing. ]

But I didn't bring anything with me.

[pummelgranite]

Yeah, you should.

[ There's a long, slow drag as she thinks about this. She tilts her head up and back lazily, and the smoke comes out her mouth as a thorned and twisting bramble. ]

Tell me how you found me. Tell me why you can find me.

[ A generous goddess: will let him pay tribute with his own story. ]

[photophobic]

Are you hiding?

[ He watched her craft the smoke, curious. Impressed, actually- it wasn't that he had no taste for power beyond destruction. Destruction simply came more easily to him. ]

I thought you had invited me. There was a door - the potential. For a door. I sensed it.

[ He takes another drag. Yes, he can feel... something. Something clearer. ]

Through the Force, the underlying energy in all things. I possess the ability to sense and manipulate it. But to find you... I allowed myself to be shaped.

[pummelgranite]

Hmm. You're certainly invited now.

[ "I allowed myself to be shaped." She tries to hide how much she likes the sound of that, but she can't help the satisfied thrill it sends through her. ]

Mine is a mystery cult. No one can reach my temple except by the path I dictate.

[ Which is to say she's certainly not not hiding. ]

But I guess there's no accounting for someone already knowing the way.