Kylo Ren (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
andrend) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
sixthiterationlogs2017-02-01 11:26 pm
andrend) wrote in sixthiterationlogs2017-02-01 11:26 pm
Let the blind lead the blind
WHO: Kylo Ren
WHERE: Just outside the Inn
WHEN: February 1st
OPEN TO: All; Threadjack style
WARNINGS: None other than that this is really long.
STATUS: Open
The fact that daily meals not only existed, but seemed to do so in spite of snow, earthquakes, and auroras in the sky, was one of a few consistently positive glimmers of hope for the village and its inhabitants. It also had the benefit of drawing a large number of those same inhabitants to one predictable location more often than not. For Ren, that was normally a reason to avoid the inn in the hours after dawn and before dusk. However, with his mind on the conversations he had had with Sansa and Veronica, and the missing beast presumably still roaming somewhere out in the canyon, Ren knew he couldn't keep approaching the problem the way he had been, previously.
Veronica's advice still lingered in his mind fresh enough after a month of thought to have him trying something new. He waited for a good number of people to enter the inn before doing so himself, and asked, with a softened tone and a calm voice, if people could spare a moment when they finished to have a discussion.
He had missed the most recent meeting, entrenched as he had been in his training. It had been another lost opportunity, and he wanted no more of those. This was as good of a chance as any, and he was taking action before action could be taken from him.
With his request submitted, he left the inn and borrowed a sturdy crate from outside one of the unused buildings. He took a seat on it, just outside the front of the inn, during the meal. Most people came and went through the doors, and it gave him a good position without worrying about the crowding of the growing village's size packed inside one space.
When enough people decided to come out and take part, he stood back up, his long hair loosely pulled back, and the scar the cut across his face and down his arm far more visible for it. He looked around at the faces gathered, some familiar, others new, and straightened his back, standing taller and more assured. He needed people to trust him, or at least trust that what he had to say might be important. But he could not be harsh, he could not demand. He had to coax reason out, and the only way to do so was to offer his ideas as ideas, and nothing more.
"A lot has happened in this canyon. Some of you have been here for far more of it than I have. There have been hazards, storms, unusual discoveries, and violent creatures. People come and go, almost always without the slightest inclination as to how or why. I myself have gone and returned, and I remember nothing of it." He paused there, one hand holding onto the metal staff he had been using so long now it had become an extension of him. He rested it on the ground like a cane now, using it to keep himself grounded.
"This canyon is unpredictable. The dangers and threats that may face us in the future can not be anticipated wholly, and there is no way of knowing who among us will still be around to see them. But one thing is clear. I do not believe our captors have ever intended anything positive of this place. They observe, and they prevent our escape. They take our strength, our possessions, our memories," He hesitates a moment, his grip tightening on the staff, his voice sharper for a moment before settling back to an even tone. "And they toy with us. We have no idea who they are, what their true intentions may be, or how they came to bring us here, only that for now we are trapped here, together."
He looks over the group that has gathered, a frown crossing his face, his brows furrowed a moment before smoothing over. He has to choose his words carefully, and for the sometimes reckless young man, it isn't easy not to dive straight in.
"I think it's time we discuss whether or not this place needs more than the loose assortment of tasks and common, repeated actions it has as it currently stands. I believe we need a leadership in place. A council. With how unpredictable this place has proven to be, no one person can or should be trusted with that task but more dangers will come, we will face more disasters, more attacks that we can not see coming. We can not assume that we will always have the luxury of waiting until after the fact to react."
He breathes, slow and deep, and tries to find the words again, searching for the right phrasing, the right voice.
"I think a council is something we should consider. A group of people to share the burden of making tough calls or assigning tasks when things go wrong, or when something needs to get done. It will not work, however, if disagreement runs rampant underneath it. That's why I came here. At the very least, it should be discussed. If the majority is against it, I will drop the matter, but if we do not at least have this conversation, I do not think this village will last many disasters before the fragile organization the structure of it is currently built on collapses and falls apart."
Having said his piece, Ren stepped aside, and offered the area he had been speaking from to anyone who might choose to use it.
[This is a meeting post open to threadjacking, interruptions, opinions, and the like. If your character has anything to say, let them do so. I'll drop a secondary comment below for Ren specifically, otherwise go wild and respond to anyone you like or start your own thing. It's intended to be an IC discoure over whether or not the village needs some form of leadership, but any actual organizing of a leadership is not intended or planned to be formed from this meeting.]
WHERE: Just outside the Inn
WHEN: February 1st
OPEN TO: All; Threadjack style
WARNINGS: None other than that this is really long.
STATUS: Open
The fact that daily meals not only existed, but seemed to do so in spite of snow, earthquakes, and auroras in the sky, was one of a few consistently positive glimmers of hope for the village and its inhabitants. It also had the benefit of drawing a large number of those same inhabitants to one predictable location more often than not. For Ren, that was normally a reason to avoid the inn in the hours after dawn and before dusk. However, with his mind on the conversations he had had with Sansa and Veronica, and the missing beast presumably still roaming somewhere out in the canyon, Ren knew he couldn't keep approaching the problem the way he had been, previously.
Veronica's advice still lingered in his mind fresh enough after a month of thought to have him trying something new. He waited for a good number of people to enter the inn before doing so himself, and asked, with a softened tone and a calm voice, if people could spare a moment when they finished to have a discussion.
He had missed the most recent meeting, entrenched as he had been in his training. It had been another lost opportunity, and he wanted no more of those. This was as good of a chance as any, and he was taking action before action could be taken from him.
With his request submitted, he left the inn and borrowed a sturdy crate from outside one of the unused buildings. He took a seat on it, just outside the front of the inn, during the meal. Most people came and went through the doors, and it gave him a good position without worrying about the crowding of the growing village's size packed inside one space.
When enough people decided to come out and take part, he stood back up, his long hair loosely pulled back, and the scar the cut across his face and down his arm far more visible for it. He looked around at the faces gathered, some familiar, others new, and straightened his back, standing taller and more assured. He needed people to trust him, or at least trust that what he had to say might be important. But he could not be harsh, he could not demand. He had to coax reason out, and the only way to do so was to offer his ideas as ideas, and nothing more.
"A lot has happened in this canyon. Some of you have been here for far more of it than I have. There have been hazards, storms, unusual discoveries, and violent creatures. People come and go, almost always without the slightest inclination as to how or why. I myself have gone and returned, and I remember nothing of it." He paused there, one hand holding onto the metal staff he had been using so long now it had become an extension of him. He rested it on the ground like a cane now, using it to keep himself grounded.
"This canyon is unpredictable. The dangers and threats that may face us in the future can not be anticipated wholly, and there is no way of knowing who among us will still be around to see them. But one thing is clear. I do not believe our captors have ever intended anything positive of this place. They observe, and they prevent our escape. They take our strength, our possessions, our memories," He hesitates a moment, his grip tightening on the staff, his voice sharper for a moment before settling back to an even tone. "And they toy with us. We have no idea who they are, what their true intentions may be, or how they came to bring us here, only that for now we are trapped here, together."
He looks over the group that has gathered, a frown crossing his face, his brows furrowed a moment before smoothing over. He has to choose his words carefully, and for the sometimes reckless young man, it isn't easy not to dive straight in.
"I think it's time we discuss whether or not this place needs more than the loose assortment of tasks and common, repeated actions it has as it currently stands. I believe we need a leadership in place. A council. With how unpredictable this place has proven to be, no one person can or should be trusted with that task but more dangers will come, we will face more disasters, more attacks that we can not see coming. We can not assume that we will always have the luxury of waiting until after the fact to react."
He breathes, slow and deep, and tries to find the words again, searching for the right phrasing, the right voice.
"I think a council is something we should consider. A group of people to share the burden of making tough calls or assigning tasks when things go wrong, or when something needs to get done. It will not work, however, if disagreement runs rampant underneath it. That's why I came here. At the very least, it should be discussed. If the majority is against it, I will drop the matter, but if we do not at least have this conversation, I do not think this village will last many disasters before the fragile organization the structure of it is currently built on collapses and falls apart."
Having said his piece, Ren stepped aside, and offered the area he had been speaking from to anyone who might choose to use it.
[This is a meeting post open to threadjacking, interruptions, opinions, and the like. If your character has anything to say, let them do so. I'll drop a secondary comment below for Ren specifically, otherwise go wild and respond to anyone you like or start your own thing. It's intended to be an IC discoure over whether or not the village needs some form of leadership, but any actual organizing of a leadership is not intended or planned to be formed from this meeting.]
no subject
He should have gone after him. Even before the radio silence. He should have walked in Ty's footprints and pulled him away from the fall that would kill him slow, burning from fever and already asleep to the world.
His fingers have gone still in Casey's hair, and he starts again, scratching back and forth in a gentle rhythm. "I told you when you arrived, about when I was sick. That was from living away from everyone. It was easier until I needed help."
no subject
Casey closes his eyes and tries to force relaxation to come. He corks the bottle of paranoia and learned fears for a while, and shrugs off thoughts about whether or not the camp would hold. From the start he had called it a dream, and there's still a part of him that thinks the moment he leaves he ruins the dream and reality will crash down and around him and drown him in the cold and the ash all over again. Even as the thought returns, though, Casey lets it slip away.
Power could go to people's heads so easily. Organization caused disagreements and unrest as much as it tried to prevent them. Watching people bicker over what to do had unsettled him and kicked up that desire to run, but then there was Kira in the room. Kira with his hand in Casey's hair, and his clear exhaustion still funneling to try and still Casey. And all Casey could do was let himself be stilled for another moment. To relax into it and wonder what side of things Kira had been on down there and what he thought of it all.
As much as he knew now that Kira wasn't the leader of the camp, Casey still gravitated to Kira as if he was.
"They wouldn't know what to do if you left." His tone is light, as if he's trying to build a joke with it. But the words felt heavy with truth on his tongue. Kira was part of the camp. He wasn't like Casey. He wasn't a scavenger slipping through with the placating motions of working for his food. He made things run and work like they belonged to him.
no subject
As much as he tried not to be useless, he knows there's a bias behind Casey's words. "There are plenty who don't even listen when I talk, I don't know why you still do."
Except he did, hand in his hair and a set of dice in his pocket. Kira doesn't have the energy to win them all over with affection. There were people he couldn't even find the energy to be decent to on a regular basis. Curling on his side, he adjusts to the head on his arm, muffles a yawn into that same shoulder.
no subject
He rolled slightly onto his side as well and turned his head, watching Kira through half closed eyes. Perhaps it was affection, or a taming the way Kira had tamed the cat. It didn't matter to Casey why he trusted Kira. He did. That was the extent of what it mattered to him.
He ended up mirroring the yawn and tucking his face half against the crook of his arm.
"People rarely even listen to themselves, anyway."
no subject
Trust, but only that. It was just a place to put his head. Kira occupied the space closest to him and that was a version of being close to him.
There was a line between them, that kept it being anything else, and they were both maintaining it. It was one of the steadiest things here--the sun rose and set, and they had quiet conversations from inches away, and no one pushed it any further. It reminded him of the long years when Ty was just a friend, and that had never been a bad thing. Even now, the time after that cut short, he doesn't really regret it.
"You're no exception," he teased quietly, moving his hand to Casey's back, steadying him where he's decided to lay. Casey's version of close was very close, for how he talked of it.
no subject
Kira didn't press, and that was important to Casey. He let the wanderer rest without actually trying to stop him, and he didn't dig into Casey's mind with questions he either couldn't answer or didn't want to. He didn't bombard him with unneeded details about lives and worlds Casey wasn't a part of.
He was safe, warm, and just jagged enough at the edges to have a bite and a grip to his kindness. Enough to dig in and not make Casey's head spin with a dizzying uncertainty and discomfort at the too much of it all.
"Why would I listen to the ravings of a mad man." He offers back, his eyes closed, but the faintest tease of a grin tugging just slightly at tired, lazy lips.