[It's strange, fighting without a saber in hand - another dogged contender without privilege or prestige to his name. Years at the Supreme Leader's side have done little to stunt his ego, and yet there's something about this event that speaks to Ren on some deep, internal level. The violence, maybe. The smell of cold, circulated air across sweat and the roar of overeager crowds.
It's electric. Intoxicating.
Still, the downtime between his own bouts grows longer: he isn't the only fighter here, and both he and the other hosts only comprise a fraction of the attending challengers. Bloodied mouth set with a slim, flexile bandage, bruises swelling as they heal, he spends his free time mulling through the crowds in search of either information or a vaguely familiar face— in Sam, he finds both.]
Come with me. [Stepping between the boy and his current conversational partner (a red-faced man, seemingly incapable of voicing his own opinions without spitting) Ren opts to entirely ignore whatever progress Sam might have been making, slapping down a broad hand across his fellow host's shoulder, intent on grabbing him without courtesy.]
walks in late with starbucks
It's electric. Intoxicating.
Still, the downtime between his own bouts grows longer: he isn't the only fighter here, and both he and the other hosts only comprise a fraction of the attending challengers. Bloodied mouth set with a slim, flexile bandage, bruises swelling as they heal, he spends his free time mulling through the crowds in search of either information or a vaguely familiar face— in Sam, he finds both.]
Come with me. [Stepping between the boy and his current conversational partner (a red-faced man, seemingly incapable of voicing his own opinions without spitting) Ren opts to entirely ignore whatever progress Sam might have been making, slapping down a broad hand across his fellow host's shoulder, intent on grabbing him without courtesy.]