MENTAL LINK - DAY 166;

[narcissithstic]

[By now, most aboard the station find it easy to recognize the abrasive dig of Kylo Ren's mind, even in its most innocuous state. For those that aren't, however, enjoy your daily dose of discomfort, punctuated by the vastness of the universe itself:]

(I require the assistance of someone capable of mending clothing.)

[...ok, that actually could have been way worse.]

Comments

[narcissithstic]

I understand the concept.

[Because he stole it from the mind of a 19 year old girl.]

I would rather someone else manage it.

[End of story, STOP PICKING ON HIM GRANDPA.]

[apoptotic]

( Because you can't? )

[ trolololololololololololol ]

[narcissithstic]

Because I am -better- than that.

[Stop it. Stop it. S T OP GRANDAD NO ONE THINKS UR FUNNY WITH YOUR CLONE WAR STORIES AND YOUR JOKES.]

When was the last time you mended any of your own clothes?

[apoptotic]

[ in his day, you had to walk up a hill of ruined droids in the snow with banthas to get such quality jokes. don't hate 'cause you ain't on this level.

also get off his lawn. ]

( The last time I ruined any of them. It doesn't happen often, but when it does I don't depend on the goodwill of others in order to dress myself. )

...........

[narcissithstic]

[narcissithstic]

[The answer isn't a lie, but he knows it, then: that Anakin is toying with him, straining hard for the bitter irritation worked loose with every exchanged comment.

It's an insult to the memory Ren upheld since his childhood.] Then I wish you luck in maintaining your clothing in the future.

The supplies necessary to repair them here are...surprisingly scarce.

[ie- he's found the only immediate cache, and he's no longer inclined to share. You lose, good day, sir.]

[apoptotic]

( That should not be a problem. I have nothing to mend. )

[ all his clothes are station-issue, suckaaaaaaa. ]

[narcissithstic]

[For a moment, Ren says absolutely nothing. Not a thought slips through, not an inkling of any shift in his demeanor, and then:]

Leave me. [The epitome of grace and dignity, as always.] We're done here.

[apoptotic]