bakerstreet | the PIC PROMPT meme

the PIC PROMPT meme

the integrated picture prompt meme

FOR ALL YOUR GEN, SHIPPY, SMUT AND AU PIC PROMPT NEEDS

i. COMMENT WITH CHARACTER. INCLUDE PREFERENCES (gen/shippy/smut/au/all)

ii. OTHERS LEAVE A PICTURE (OR TWO OR THREE....)

iii. REPLY TO THEM WITH A SETTING BASED ON THE IMAGES.

THIS POST WILL BE IMAGE HEAVY AND POSSIBLY NSFW.

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[No one else was allowed into his private quarters. Even then, he rarely allowed Ren past the threshold. But after everything that had happened...tonight seemed one of those times.

Once he heard the door slide shut, Hux removed his hat, placing it up carefully, sliding his coat and gloves off before putting them up, as well. Everything in it's place, everything in order. That was his life. So much control, order...in such contrast to the chaos that swirled around Kylo Ren. They were a study in contrasts, always, it seemed. It wasn't as if Hux didn't have his own swirling rage, but he kept it tightly locked up, compartmentalized, never to be seen in public, never to be pushed out into rage fueled outbursts. He was jealous of Ren, in a way, that he could vent his aggression in such a childish manner.

Still.

Those were thoughts for another time.

For now, they both needed to lick their wounds, both inward and outwardly. They had survived the Starkiller, and were now four days out from Snoke. What that would mean...who knew. It could mean death for Hux, he knew. Or not. And with a new Force user on the scene, one that defeated Ren--it could spell trouble for him, as well.

So many variables, now. Hux hated it.]

Make yourself comfortable.

[Hux moved to pull out the liquor, pouring each of them a glass. As the time passed in privacy, his shoulders started to relax, bit by bit. He started to become more of a human, and less the ice king he presented to the rest of the ship. There were still spikes and venom everywhere, of course. But a bit more muted.

Turning around, he offered a glass to Ren, raising an eyebrow. They both needed this.]

[ Ren undoubtedly surprised a number aboard the Finalizer when he did not come out convalescence swinging. After being discharged from medical the anticipated warpath was in reality more of a subdued skulk. This did nothing to alleviate the surviving skeleton crew's anxieties. No one who had the misfortune of crossing paths with Kylo Ren in the coming days wanted to risk so much as broadcasting their thoughts of seeing the Master of the Knights of Ren was slinking with everything but the tail between his legs. And truthfully it wasn't Ren taking up residence amidst their primary concerns.

Everyone felt it. The creeping anxiety of approaching Snoke's mobile command center with nothing to present their leader but the scraps of their salvaged dignity and many, many failures. The overhanging dread was like a ship being purposefully steered into an oncoming storm. Ren carried the heaviest yoke among them and it was beginning to show; trading tantrums for extended periods of absence.

Ren was a black oil spill on Hux's couch having annexed most of it with his legs spread out - though he was polite enough to take his shoes off first. Face set in slack sort of pout; upset over his failure and upset he didn't even have the strength to stew in his problems without the company. After two days in the bacta tanks the scar on his face was still shiny, pink and new; paradoxically younger looking. It also itched terribly giving his dark eyes a quality of wetness that was almost pitiable. ]

Mhmm.

[ Ren didn't so much as thank his host or even make eye contact. Staring out into the middle distance as he drained the glass as quickly as it passed to his hand. His eyes screwed up tight and his jaw set as he rode out the burning sensation snaking down his throat. He suppressed the urge to gag, setting the glass down on the table. ]

That's terrible. [ He said, mildly. A recovering philistine lacking the palate for the fine, expensive liquor that Hux favored. He then quietly pushed the glass towards Hux. Asking for another without possessing the decency of saying as much. ]

[The lack of outbursts from Ren put even more stress on Hux; which is strange. If someone had told him that his reaction would be that--he would have laughed in their face. But every bit of Ren's body language, his reaction to the defeat he had suffered (they had suffered), confirmed how much of a mistake going to Snoke was.

And yet...there was no other choice. The path was laid out. There was no way but forward. Sometimes through the storm was the only way to survive; he just hand to hope they managed to get through it without a complete bleed-out. As much as Hux fully believed that the First Order was his destiny, he also enjoyed living.

The lack of eye contact on Ren's part allowed Hux to regard Ren more fully, spread out on his couch. He can't help but smile just a little. It might not reach his eyes, completely, but...it isn't a bad sight. As bad as the scar was, there was something about it that Hux liked. It suited Ren's strange face; and scars meant survival. Both of them wore the marks of survival both inwardly, and outwardly, of clawing and climbing in a universe that seemed unwilling to reward what it should--their ideals.

No matter. They would bend it to their will soon enough. Hux had to believe that. He had to keep believing in that, to try and not let it falter.

Regardless.

He had to swallow a chuckle as he sipped on his own drink when the other struggled with the alcohol a bit. He took Ren's glass from him, filling it up again. You're terrible, he thought in a quick, amused retort, but didn't say it.

Once he filled it up again, he balanced the two glasses between his hands, taking the bottle in the other.]

If you're going to be wanting more, might as well.

[Hux certainly will be wanting more, as well. At this point--they both need it.

Hux placed the bottle on the small coffee table in front of the couch before sitting down himself, letting himself sink down into the plush cushions. Ren's glass was pressed back into his fingers even as Hux relaxed more fully, his knees slightly falling open, one gently brushing against Ren's.

Little hints of touch, here and there, something that wouldn't be allowed nor tolerated outside this room.]

We might as well drink it all.

[Who knows if they will get a chance to, again.

What a morbid idea.]

[ Familiarity bred contempt but it also engendered well, familiarity. Neither he nor Hux made any efforts to even pretend to like one another. The situation was set against them from the very start. The Finalizer under the command of the unofficial triumvirate the two of them and Captain Phasma was a recipe for disaster with loyalties and orders constantly shifting and conflicting with one another. Even if Kylo Ren were less volatile and Hux not so ambitious the arrangement was heads and egos butting the only outcome.

And yet when the fires were extinguished and they sit there both destroyed the truth was as emphatic as one of Hux's well-rehearsed speeches. However bad the blood between them got they were also the only people on this entire ship who could stand the other.

When Hux calls him terrible the sound of his thoughts peels through Kylo Ren with such clarity as to call it familiar. Even welcomed. He couldn't hear all of the general's thoughts of anyone's. The Force doesn't work like that, he thinks even though it leaves a bad taste in his mouth. The words aren't his. When the surface thoughts are strong and directed at him or intentionally away from him, Ren just feels it like a tap on the shoulder or a hot breath on the back of his neck.

Ren felt his thoughts more readily than the brushing of fingers and the ghosting touch of their knees knocking together as they inelegantly shift on the couch to accommodate them both.

Hux had a lot on his mind. And why wouldn't he? They're both hurtling towards an unknown sentence with little to raise their spirits. ]

Here's to...

[ Ren raised the glass but stops. It still hurts to speak and he had never found himself giving a toast before. Before the silence can drag onto an awkward extreme he just says, ]

Drinking it all.

[ Clearing the glass in one go burns less this time. It numbs a lot and the words sloshing around Hux's harried mind tune out to a pleasant white noise. This might very well be their last night but so far it didn't disagree with him all things considered. Ren slaps the emptied glass down on the table and collapses against the couch with a bit more color in his face ]

And to the General who dragged our miserable corpses off that crumbling eyesore.

[Hux had often wondered, what it would be like to have force abilities. Unlike some, he was never jealous of what Ren could do. He is frustrated, yes, constantly of the leeway that the man gets due to his abilities, and how he sometimes thinks he takes his abilities for granted...but jealous? Never.

Even the most powerful--the force couldn't save them, in the end. And it may not save Ren. For all they have fought, bickered, and pretended to hate each other...

...Hux doesn't want to see him end up like Vader. Ren might want to finish what Vader started, but that tragic end--Ren deserves better than that.

So forgive him, if his thoughts are slightly maudlin; he does his best to keep them locked up tight within his own head, away from Ren's. He has trained himself to do his best to keep them from bleeding over. But he is only human...and can only do so much.

Still, the small points of contact soften him, ever so slightly, give him warmth where there is usually such coolness.

He raises his glass as well, and counters with his own toast. His voice is low--but has an edge of conviction.]

And to coming out on top, in the end.

[Whatever that means. But it is his way of promising that he is not about to lay down and die. And he is not about to let that happen to Ren, either. He didn't drag him off that base, only to be destroyed, later.

He downs his own shot, and moves to pour them both another...and is the middle of the pour when Ren mentions Starkiller.

There is a hesitation in his pour, then, a slight hiccup, but Hux continues, his eyes lowered, and he speaks again, as his voice takes on a softer, more haunted tone.]

I loved that base.

[He did. Wholly and completely; even though it was cold, it was molten and fire--his beautiful contradiction. A testament to what he could accomplish. Perhaps the first thing he had ever truly loved.

But--]

If it couldn't be saved. At least we could.

[There may be another Starkiller. There is never another Hux. Or Kylo Ren.

He picks up his glass, and sits back up, handing the other back to Ren, eyes meeting.]

[ Privately, Ren would prefer not to meet such an end. One weakness inherit in us all that was a plucked thread that had unwound everything that was Darth Vader. The thought of it sickened him knowing that even Vader had that shred of Anakin Skywalker left buried. Unaccounted for and forgotten until it was exploited.

With Han Solo gone, Ren tried for comfort himself that the same target on his back was now a smaller. Tried because the brandy sloshing around in his head made it difficult for the thought of his success to stick. ]

Of course you loved that base; it was only matched in sized by your ego.

[ Something about the way he said it was almost jocular under the prickly attitude that colored his every word. When

Hux hiccups he almost laughs. When Ren hiccups a brief little laughed bubbled after it.

This was a terrible idea. Facing down an indefinite climax simply robbed them of the capacity to care - at least for one evening.

Ren took the glass then turned slightly that he was propped up against the couch on one shoulder so he was facing Hux with closer proximity. ]

You're not expendable.

[ This was not the old Empire and the First Order valued talent, not numbers. Even still he could pick up on that thread of worry Hux carried with him and pluck at it, unraveling everything.

He barely says it loud enough to hear it himself. Before he could say something he would really regret he brings the glass to his lips and cocked his head back. Draining it and now starting to see the appeal. ]

Come now; we both know my ego is only the size of the Finalizer.

[Hux rolls his eyes and lets the insult roll off his back, like oil off water. Yes, the Starkiller had fed his ego, but there had been something else, as well. So he goes along with the joke, a small tone of jest there, as well. He lets out a little breathy laugh when he hears Ren hiccup.

They are both messes. Oh what tragedies. But they can pretend they are safe within these four walls, even when they aren't.

Perhaps unconsciously, he turns his body to mimic Ren's positioning. His fingers dangled dangerously close to the other's arm-just a small movement and he could brush along his arm, or along his wrist. He could feel the heat radiating, as it was.

Still, he frowns at Ren's words, wanting to disagree.

You don't know that.

If Snoke wished to make an example of him, there is nothing that Ren could do. Or would want to do, most likely. But--well.

Instead, Hux sips at his drink, and then--to hells with it-- brushes a finger along Ren's wrist. He feels a spark of warmth, that slow curl of warmth spiraling upwards.]

I know. I'm keenly aware of the uniqueness of us.

[That came out wrong. He blames the buzz already starting to surround him, due to the drink, the pleasant warmth. He pulls his finger away.]

Of people like us.

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