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dragonlady7via http://ift.tt/1RZ2vew:
deputychairman:
bomberqueen17:
galadhir:
generalgingersnaps:
eruditeesoterica:
starwarsvillains:
“Our strategy must now change.”
Just so you know… there’s not a hint of fear in Hux’s face when this happens. His microexpressions are of anger and (perhaps surprisingly) contempt. Anger: eyebrows drawn in and down, lips pursed, chin ever so slightly brought up and out. Contempt: contraction of the muscles under the eyes and beside the nose (and of the nose itself), slight twitching at the corner of the mouth.
I’m so undone by that twitch.
You may be an ancient and eldritch evil such as would wither the very soul of Mankind, but DON’T INTERRUPT ME WHEN I’M SPEAKING, DAMN YOU.
#hux#everything is hux these days#I’m sorry
no don’t apologize. Never apologize.
I think I’ve figured out some of why I want to pair Poe and Hux in some way, cracky or non– neither one of them has a goddamn ounce of self-preservation.
No, that’s not right. Both of them are survivors and will scramble out of whatever happens. But neither one of them has that basic core of self-preserving sensibility. Both of them have deep and sincere beliefs in things that are greater than their own desire to survive. Maybe that’s what it is.
If fandom’s going to overinvest in a character it’s highly likely the creators viewed as eventually disposable, Hux is a good one.
I don’t know where I’m going with this either. But he’s a good foil to Kylo, who also has this deep and abiding belief in what he’s doing– but while Kylo agonizes about being equal to the task, Hux has zero doubt about that and is just trying to get shit done. (Their tasks are, of course, different; Hux can rely on procedure and competence and training, and Kylo is trying to do some really intense spiritual shit which you can’t just– follow directions and run procedures and get.)
#hux/poe#i will make it happen eventually#SPEAKING OF HATESEX#i guess this is my life now
Buddy I am SO DOWN for this Poe/Hux hatesex - not only would they hate each other, but Hux would probably hate himself afterwards but Poe would look himself in the eye in the mirror and say, woah, bad decision there Dameron, and then move on.
My version actually contains the following dialogue concerning good or bad decisions:
He gestured with his cigarette. “You look like you’re into some sick shit, man, but you also don’t look like you’re gonna give me the clap, so on the spectrum of bad ideas you’re like a five.”
“I look like I’m into some sick shit,” Hux repeated carefully, both eyebrows up now. “Do I look like I’m in the habit of visiting hourly rate inns with disreputable strangers?”
“I ain’t a stranger,” the man said, “I’ve punched you in the face at least twice, that puts us way past strangers.” He finished his cigarette and stubbed it out against the wall of the building, then field-stripped it and shoved the filter in his jacket pocket.
It said something about the man that he didn’t litter, Hux supposed.
“Five out of what?” Hux asked. “I’m just curious as to your scale of bad idea evaluation.”
“Five out of ten,” the man said, like it was obvious. “Where one is gentle protected sex with a nice girl you could introduce to your mother, and ten is getting your kidneys harvested and the rest of you sold into sex slavery.”
“Neither of those sounds appealing, though,” Hux said, nose crinkling.
“Aw,” the man said, “c’mon, gentle protected sex with nice girls is a very sweet way to spend an evening. I’d have to be a lot more sober than this, though.” He jerked his thumb toward the inn. “C’mon. Neutral territory. I won’t have sweet gentle sex with you and I won’t harvest any of your organs. Other than that I make no promises.”
“Well,” Hux said. “I’m not sure how I’m meant to refuse an offer like that.” He finished his cigarette and tossed it into the gutter. Those dark eyes didn’t fail to observe it, flicking to watch the glowing butt’s gentle arc.
deputychairman:
bomberqueen17:
galadhir:
generalgingersnaps:
eruditeesoterica:
starwarsvillains:
“Our strategy must now change.”
Just so you know… there’s not a hint of fear in Hux’s face when this happens. His microexpressions are of anger and (perhaps surprisingly) contempt. Anger: eyebrows drawn in and down, lips pursed, chin ever so slightly brought up and out. Contempt: contraction of the muscles under the eyes and beside the nose (and of the nose itself), slight twitching at the corner of the mouth.
I’m so undone by that twitch.
You may be an ancient and eldritch evil such as would wither the very soul of Mankind, but DON’T INTERRUPT ME WHEN I’M SPEAKING, DAMN YOU.
#hux#everything is hux these days#I’m sorry
no don’t apologize. Never apologize.
I think I’ve figured out some of why I want to pair Poe and Hux in some way, cracky or non– neither one of them has a goddamn ounce of self-preservation.
No, that’s not right. Both of them are survivors and will scramble out of whatever happens. But neither one of them has that basic core of self-preserving sensibility. Both of them have deep and sincere beliefs in things that are greater than their own desire to survive. Maybe that’s what it is.
If fandom’s going to overinvest in a character it’s highly likely the creators viewed as eventually disposable, Hux is a good one.
I don’t know where I’m going with this either. But he’s a good foil to Kylo, who also has this deep and abiding belief in what he’s doing– but while Kylo agonizes about being equal to the task, Hux has zero doubt about that and is just trying to get shit done. (Their tasks are, of course, different; Hux can rely on procedure and competence and training, and Kylo is trying to do some really intense spiritual shit which you can’t just– follow directions and run procedures and get.)
#hux/poe#i will make it happen eventually#SPEAKING OF HATESEX#i guess this is my life now
Buddy I am SO DOWN for this Poe/Hux hatesex - not only would they hate each other, but Hux would probably hate himself afterwards but Poe would look himself in the eye in the mirror and say, woah, bad decision there Dameron, and then move on.
My version actually contains the following dialogue concerning good or bad decisions:
He gestured with his cigarette. “You look like you’re into some sick shit, man, but you also don’t look like you’re gonna give me the clap, so on the spectrum of bad ideas you’re like a five.”
“I look like I’m into some sick shit,” Hux repeated carefully, both eyebrows up now. “Do I look like I’m in the habit of visiting hourly rate inns with disreputable strangers?”
“I ain’t a stranger,” the man said, “I’ve punched you in the face at least twice, that puts us way past strangers.” He finished his cigarette and stubbed it out against the wall of the building, then field-stripped it and shoved the filter in his jacket pocket.
It said something about the man that he didn’t litter, Hux supposed.
“Five out of what?” Hux asked. “I’m just curious as to your scale of bad idea evaluation.”
“Five out of ten,” the man said, like it was obvious. “Where one is gentle protected sex with a nice girl you could introduce to your mother, and ten is getting your kidneys harvested and the rest of you sold into sex slavery.”
“Neither of those sounds appealing, though,” Hux said, nose crinkling.
“Aw,” the man said, “c’mon, gentle protected sex with nice girls is a very sweet way to spend an evening. I’d have to be a lot more sober than this, though.” He jerked his thumb toward the inn. “C’mon. Neutral territory. I won’t have sweet gentle sex with you and I won’t harvest any of your organs. Other than that I make no promises.”
“Well,” Hux said. “I’m not sure how I’m meant to refuse an offer like that.” He finished his cigarette and tossed it into the gutter. Those dark eyes didn’t fail to observe it, flicking to watch the glowing butt’s gentle arc.
