The twisting in her gut is unexplainable — the same pull that has led her to intact salvage, that has warned her of scavengers hovering near the hovel she calls her own. This time, she excuses it as Plutt's meddling, and the assurance that he will seek out what she has denied him.
But the woman that plants herself inside isn't one of Plutt's thugs, come to retrieve the same droid she has batted them away from stealing like any regular pile of scrap. Neither is she a simple scavenger. From the look of her — clean, despite the sprinklings of sand, and healthy — she isn't even of Jakku. It's written all over her.
That calls into question, then, what is so vitally special about this astromech unit that's found its way into her life. Rey doesn't stop to question it, more prone to action, on her feet defensively within seconds. The staff in her hands is more warning than weapon, for the moment, when she barks, ]
I'm not turning anything over to you. [ Her teeth bare, snapping, as her expression pinches together. ] Get out.
[ Vers notes the staff, and there's a flicker of something through her expression--a cross between amused and impressed. She registers it, yes, then advances to where she sees BB-8 huddled in the corner of the room. She has power on her side. Strength that the rest of them can't even imagine. She has the Force.
Even if no one will train her how to use it. Even if they hold her back like a caged animal.
It's for her good. Schooling the feeling out of her. Civilizing her. She has to learn that restraint, so she tries to side-step the fight entirely now by simply barreling through. It's arrogance, of course. The kind of swaggering arrogance that in fact courts a fight on purpose. But she can claim to Yon-Rogg later, aboard their flagship, that she had done her best.
She closes a blue energy webbing around BB-8, making him weightless. ]
The small fraction of a pause, a stillness in Rey's locked muscles, barely registers visually. But it's there, that flicker of incredulity that quickly slides into outright indignation and then, finally, determination.
The webbing doesn't draw her eye. She's never seen anything like it, but the mystery remains unimportant in the face of BB-8's panicked, protesting chirps. Rey moves to action, mistaking the stranger's dismissal as blind arrogance — an advantage, if she expects that Rey won't strike as she does now, brazen, swinging at the back of her head.
Rey doesn't know who, and what, she is — but it doesn't matter in the grand scheme. Whoever she works for — and it isn't this droid's master, as evidenced by his fit — knows what that droid holds, knows his significance; she won't, can't, allow it to fall into their hands. ]
[ Turning around barely seems to require movement on Vers' part. She twists her upper body, grabs the staff as it comes down. It stings like a bitch, but these things happen. Then she raises her other hand, thrusts her palm into Rey's chest with the sharp and decisive intent of knocking her back, separating her from the staff.
If this girl insists upon a brawl, it's a brawl she'll get. The droid isn't going anywhere now.
It would be easier, so much easier, if she used the Force. Lashed out. Lit this whole place up with it. She could freeze the girl, levitate the droid, if she could only control it. But she has to work with what she's given. That was Yon-Rogg's rule. ]
[ Failing to anticipate Vers' move is a misstep that sends her stumbling, kicking up sand and dust as she works to regain her footing. The familiarity allows her to right herself quickly; Jakku's terrain has made her more even-footed, certain in her steps, squaring her thighs as she rediscovers that balance.
Her fingers itch for their staff. A scavenger's habit, possessive of what little she can call her own — what she has created, discovered, and repurposed in her bid for survival here. Instead, she inhales deeply in preparation and then lunges, launching herself toward the stranger, in a sloppy attempt to get her to the ground. ]
[ Vers is ready for her. She falls to the ground, but she grabs Rey around the back of her neck and gets her to roll with Vers. The AT-AT is a cramped space, mostly uneven, and it makes for metal stabbing in uncomfortable places, but Vers rolls with her nonetheless and uses the momentum to flip over onto Rey, pinning her to the floor instead.
Then she winds back and decks her. Hard. ]
Let it go.
[ It's not a heartfelt plea. It's just a flat demand. ]
[ All of the air expels itself from her lungs, burning in her sternum in the aftermath. Worse is the dirt it kicks up, sand sticking in her throat when she tries to grasp for breath desperately, struggling.
The copper sting of blood soon replaces it. Rey chokes on blood in the back of her throat, leaking from the burst vessels in her nose, and spits it back up into Carol's face. ]
Never.
[ She is outmatched, undeniably. The woman's training is clear. But Rey's desperation is greater, keeps her from leaning into self-preservation and submission. With no way to twist out onto her feet, she acts quickly, determinedly — and whips her head forward to smash into Carol's nose, attempting to startle her into loosening her grip. ]
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timeasmymeasure
not what i expected but exactly what i wanted
Date: 2019-04-08 05:26 am (UTC)The twisting in her gut is unexplainable — the same pull that has led her to intact salvage, that has warned her of scavengers hovering near the hovel she calls her own. This time, she excuses it as Plutt's meddling, and the assurance that he will seek out what she has denied him.
But the woman that plants herself inside isn't one of Plutt's thugs, come to retrieve the same droid she has batted them away from stealing like any regular pile of scrap. Neither is she a simple scavenger. From the look of her — clean, despite the sprinklings of sand, and healthy — she isn't even of Jakku. It's written all over her.
That calls into question, then, what is so vitally special about this astromech unit that's found its way into her life. Rey doesn't stop to question it, more prone to action, on her feet defensively within seconds. The staff in her hands is more warning than weapon, for the moment, when she barks, ]
I'm not turning anything over to you. [ Her teeth bare, snapping, as her expression pinches together. ] Get out.
no subject
Date: 2019-04-09 04:06 am (UTC)Even if no one will train her how to use it. Even if they hold her back like a caged animal.
It's for her good. Schooling the feeling out of her. Civilizing her. She has to learn that restraint, so she tries to side-step the fight entirely now by simply barreling through. It's arrogance, of course. The kind of swaggering arrogance that in fact courts a fight on purpose. But she can claim to Yon-Rogg later, aboard their flagship, that she had done her best.
She closes a blue energy webbing around BB-8, making him weightless. ]
no subject
Date: 2019-04-11 03:28 am (UTC)The small fraction of a pause, a stillness in Rey's locked muscles, barely registers visually. But it's there, that flicker of incredulity that quickly slides into outright indignation and then, finally, determination.
The webbing doesn't draw her eye. She's never seen anything like it, but the mystery remains unimportant in the face of BB-8's panicked, protesting chirps. Rey moves to action, mistaking the stranger's dismissal as blind arrogance — an advantage, if she expects that Rey won't strike as she does now, brazen, swinging at the back of her head.
Rey doesn't know who, and what, she is — but it doesn't matter in the grand scheme. Whoever she works for — and it isn't this droid's master, as evidenced by his fit — knows what that droid holds, knows his significance; she won't, can't, allow it to fall into their hands. ]
no subject
Date: 2019-04-13 05:16 am (UTC)If this girl insists upon a brawl, it's a brawl she'll get. The droid isn't going anywhere now.
It would be easier, so much easier, if she used the Force. Lashed out. Lit this whole place up with it. She could freeze the girl, levitate the droid, if she could only control it. But she has to work with what she's given. That was Yon-Rogg's rule. ]
no subject
Date: 2019-04-14 02:43 am (UTC)Her fingers itch for their staff. A scavenger's habit, possessive of what little she can call her own — what she has created, discovered, and repurposed in her bid for survival here. Instead, she inhales deeply in preparation and then lunges, launching herself toward the stranger, in a sloppy attempt to get her to the ground. ]
no subject
Date: 2019-04-22 12:47 am (UTC)Then she winds back and decks her. Hard. ]
Let it go.
[ It's not a heartfelt plea. It's just a flat demand. ]
no subject
Date: 2019-04-22 01:06 am (UTC)The copper sting of blood soon replaces it. Rey chokes on blood in the back of her throat, leaking from the burst vessels in her nose, and spits it back up into Carol's face. ]
Never.
[ She is outmatched, undeniably. The woman's training is clear. But Rey's desperation is greater, keeps her from leaning into self-preservation and submission. With no way to twist out onto her feet, she acts quickly, determinedly — and whips her head forward to smash into Carol's nose, attempting to startle her into loosening her grip. ]