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neutronium Hux(34) I'm not interested in your bleeding hearts. If you're under the age of 25, click X. I enjoy people who are competent and actually know how to do their jobs, and do them well. Also, leather. |
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General Armitage Hux
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- Style: Neutral Good for Practicality by timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2017-01-28 03:59 am (UTC)I'm competent and interested in furthering objectives more than anything else. If you're interested in a more private discussion, I'd be interested in arranging something.
[A number is attached.]
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Date: 2017-01-31 04:25 am (UTC)I can encrypt better than most anyone in this city. Trust me, our line is secure.
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Date: 2017-01-31 04:56 am (UTC)img001.jpg
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Date: 2017-02-03 04:06 am (UTC)Where would you like to meet up? Or shall I choose a place?
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Date: 2017-02-03 08:02 pm (UTC)Otherwise, I have an apartment we can use. It's clean and empty aside from furniture.
[One he was only willing to offer with the knowledge that he knew he could move if it became necessary later. He could not proceed with anything in this city if he did not allow for a certain amount of risk. He just had to take care to make them calculated risks. No more messy mistakes that started spirals.]
The timing I leave in your hands. My schedule is cleared for the next three days. If it needs to be later, I will clear a time.
[Until he began his training and work, his schedule was at his discretion, and busy as he kept himself, he had no set time requirements.]
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Date: 2017-02-04 11:53 pm (UTC)Have alcohol; nothing cheap.
Tonight is fine.
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Date: 2017-02-05 06:55 am (UTC)None of it was new.
He chose two bottles of alcohol. One clear, expensive, with a label that reminded him of a rich Corellian wine. The other was a deep amber color, a small bottle with thick glass. Both were left on the counter of the small kitchen his assigned living quarters had come with. The room looked as if it had never been lived in, and the bed was freshly laid back on the box springs Cassian had been sleeping on to avoid the too-soft sink of a bed he couldn't grow accustomed to.
The sheets were clean and stretched tight and the entire apartment was spotless, with anything he might own tucked neatly away in a single dresser. Cassian didn't ask for a clarification on the time. The man would show when he felt it appropriate, and in the meantime, Cassian had dressed down for simplicity's sake to a buttoned up shirt and a pair of well measured but clearly unbroken in slacks. He had tucked his blaster away under his clothing, and he went back to analyzing what he could of the data being freely sent about over the network while he waited.]
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Date: 2017-02-05 07:45 pm (UTC)He carries a small black leather bag with him in one hand, and knocks with the other.]
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Date: 2017-02-06 04:33 pm (UTC)He lets his eyes quickly scan Hux, taking in the outfit, the state of the clothes, the bag in his hand. It takes only a moment to take him in and make a few mental notes, filing them away. Eudio was a new set of standards for trying to discern anything about people, but he had seen enough to know this man was dangerous. But then, so was Cassian. Calculated risks were a necessity. The city's apparent laws should put that particular paranoia to rest, but he can see they do not for Hux anymore than they do for him.
He steps back away from the door and moves to the bar where the alcohol is waiting. The turn puts the side where his blaster is tucked away toward his guest. Cassian slides the pair of glasses he had purchased to the edge, offering a gesture to the alcohol.]
For your consideration. [He offers, and then, with his hands resting on the counter and a small, wry quirk to his lips he adds-]
I would say trust runs thin, but I don't think it's fair to begrudge anyone their sense of self-preservation
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Date: 2017-02-07 06:21 am (UTC)Good choices, all around.
He puts the bag down, so the gloved hand can moved over the glasses.
[He lets his eyes trail over Cassian in assessment, a slight quirk of an eyebrow.]
The same goes for you.
Perhaps both of us remove our weapons?
[Though the weight of what Cassian is carrying--it would be the weight of a blaster but--
--he wants to see it.]
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Date: 2017-02-07 02:45 pm (UTC)[He acknowledges Hux's assessment of his choices with a nod. His eyes follow the movement of Hux's gloved hand, his attention more focused on the one not moving in an obvious fashion.
As the host, Cassian would have been in his right to request Hux remove his weapon first. But he had invited the man, and knowing it would seem to further neither of their goals to end the night in this fashion, Cassian carefully pulls the edge of his shirt loose, gripping the blaster by the top of the weapon rather than the handle.
The BlasTech A280-CFE Blaster is in its normal configuration, no attachments tacked on to the well cared for weapon. It was worn but clean and clearly well maintained. Cassian kept his movements slow and fluid, lifting the weapon free of his clothing and setting it down on the counter, sliding it along the surface to rest beside his phone. It took him just a slight extra moment to draw his hand back and leave the weapon there.
This was vulnerability in the face of the unknown and it would be a lie to say Cassian was comfortable as he moved himself to the side enough to be out of arm's reach of the weapon. He was fast, he favored his reflexes. This was a risk he had taken in the past in far more dangerous cities than this one. there was a faint rise to his brow as he regarded Hux after, waiting for him to do the same. His focus on the way Hux moved or held himself, assessing while doing his best not to let that assessment blatantly show or linger.]
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Date: 2017-02-10 02:15 am (UTC)[Still, he moves to take off his jacket, slowly and surely. It's almost like stripping, but there is a control there, something so careful and assured.
He glances at the blaster, his eyes skittering over it, but not letting them linger. So he was correct--this man was from his world.
But when--and where.
No matter.
Hux reaches into the leather holster and pulls out the police-issued weapon, putting it next to the blaster, smirking just slightly.]
Issued by my job, here.
They prefer I use it, rather than the weapons of my world.
[Raising his chin slightly, he smooths a hand through his hair, then moves to pour them both glasses of whiskey, making sure not to turn his back on the other man.]
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Date: 2017-02-13 05:39 am (UTC)[He doesn't move to put ice in his either, but he watches Hux with interest, his eyes drifting only momentarily to the weapon. He moves from the counter, leaving both weapons but keeping himself in clear view of Hux when he does move, each step measured. He's the first to sip the drink, and he lets his mind loose to analyze the gun and the timbre and weight of Hux's voice for only a moment. It's difficult to let go of the need to over think, but that's what Hux is there for. To provide a distraction and something to occupy himself with.]
Before we proceed with any of this, we need to come to an understanding. Lay down the rules.
[He had several, and he could only imagine Hux did as well. Small talk was fine, and he would even engage in it, but he wasn't risking waiting on this and giving the other man a chance to step in.]
No digging personal questions. No physical restraints that take away the use of my hands. If you want me to keep them somewhere I will without fail but I need to be able to use them. No lips on my lips. If things aren't going well, I'll signal as much with Blue
[This wasn't his first time making such an arrangement and it wouldn't be his last. He had rules and he held to them.]
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Date: 2017-02-17 03:52 am (UTC)I used to be a sniper. That weapon is useless in close quarters. I'll manage with their archaic weapons--adaption is important, always.
[He does quirk an eyebrow when Cassian starts talking again because, well--]
I was going to ask your hard nos, and what your safe word was. Glad to see you know what you are about. I also dislike kissing. [At least with anyone but one...or perhaps two...people.]
We understand each other, then.
[He gestures to the bag he brought.]
I confess I do prefer to take away hand use, but again...adaptation.
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Date: 2017-03-13 07:39 pm (UTC)If you still enjoy the illusion of it, as long as I am able to undo the bindings myself if necessary, it's acceptable.
[He had removed himself from worse situations in the past, but without his boots it was hard to keep access to his tools. He slips out of them now, setting them to the side and unfastening the first few buttons of his shirt.]
It's good to know you come prepared. [Both the gun and the bag. If anything, the lack of trust being mutual is more settling than unsettling. Hux is in some respects like-minded and he can work with that and the different dangers it brings to the table.]
Anything else to add?
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Date: 2017-03-17 03:37 am (UTC)[A compromise. Something he rarely does. But he can do so, in the face of someone who understands the situation so completely.]
I always come prepared.
And no, there is nothing else to add.
Though I suggest we have a drink and talk, slightly, before we get to business. I enjoy detachment, but complete detachment is...clinical. Undesirable.
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Date: 2017-03-20 11:59 pm (UTC)[He agrees, and takes a seat on the edge of the bed. It was low enough to let his feet remain on the floor, and he kept his drink in his hand. With his shirt hanging open, and his socks against the floor, he regarded Hux with a curious gaze.
He had already established no digging personal questions, but not all questions needed to be digging or personal and some could be conversationally 'personal'.
Hux had already claimed the alcohol selection had been a good choice, so he was forced to move on to something else. What he wanted to talk about did not line up with his own rules. Hux was a sniper, he worked in the city with a standard issued gun that was not in any form of sniper configuration.]
An interesting juxtaposition. I can see the merits in that. [Even if his own preferences leaned more toward somewhere between a lack of conversation in any fashion and a desire to leave himself behind.]
Though I have to wonder how uninteresting a person has to be to dip into clinical for a lack of words. I am sure we are both capable of being interesting in ways beyond that.
I used to be a sniper as well. [A piece for a piece. Information was never bought without a price, and while he wasn't searching for an informant, it was on some level either an illusion or an olive branch of freely offered information in return for what had seemed to be the same.]
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Date: 2017-03-26 03:18 am (UTC)[Hux moves to loosen his own shirt, but doesn't remove his gloves. Those will stay on--he's quite sure that Cassian will enjoy them. He stands before the other man, leaning against the wall. No need to sit on the bed, to make some sort of companionable room like that. That isn't what this is about. This is about settling in without 'settling'. The duality that he enjoys, so much.
He snorts, sipping his drink.]
I believe in being precise with words. Clinical is what suited best.
And I am not surprised. We seem to have a similar mind, on...some things. A way of thinking. Birds eye, as it were. Detaching and knowing that release is still needed.
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Date: 2017-04-09 05:55 am (UTC)[He tilts his glass watching the liquid slide along the edges before taking another slow drink and giving Hux a second, more thorough look. Assessing to the best of his abilities. Making a mental map of expectations and assumptions.
Hux would not be wrong at all in his own assumptions. The extra barrier would not only be welcome, but enjoyable.]
It takes a certain mindset. [He agrees, and swallows his thoughts on semantics with another easy drink.]
It does make things like this easier, provided we can loosen our grips enough to actually seek it out.
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Date: 2017-04-11 03:37 am (UTC)[Finishes his drink; he hasn't removed his shirt of course; that's for Cassian to do.
Hux always has enjoyed semantics; but he knows many don't. He's a rare creature in that way.
Still--]
Ah, yes. It all depends on who is holding the leash. Ourselves, or someone else.
[He gestures, chin going up slightly.]
Come over here and remove my shirt.
[Cassian will find a lean, trim figure; Hux has gained a bit more muscle since arriving here, but he'll always be a lanky creature.]
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Date: 2017-04-11 06:16 am (UTC)Cassian also needed control, to such an extent that his best friend was a programmable droid, but there was a divide for him between the control he needed in his life, and the mindset he put himself in when he stepped away from that. When he was in control during sex he was in total control. When he let go, he let go of as much as he could allow himself to.
He stops less than a foot from Hux, his hands slipping up along the tie, loosening it to free the shirt collar, but not removing it. He starts at the top, his eyes lingering on Hux's neck rather than his eyes while he loosens each button with efficiency and ease.
When he's done he slips it off Hux's shoulders and lays it out on the dresser. It's only when the shirt is fully gone he allows himself to appreciate that Hux looks good under all the fabric. They're not that different, though Cassian is only a bit broader set, less lanky and covered in numerous blaster and blade scars.]
Some leashes are easier to take. [Like the temporary one he was giving Hux, to an extent.]
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Date: 2017-04-20 02:49 am (UTC)[After all, Cassian wants the leash held. He is pleased to see that the other man can care for his shirt, instead of doing something horrible with it, like tossing it away.
Once he's closer, Hux brings his gloved hands up, pressing them flat against Cassian's chest, moving them slowly upwards until he is using them to push off the other man's shirt from the shoulders, downwards, making as much contact as possible.
One complete, he holds the shirt out.]
Take care of this neatly, then stand before me in the exact place you are now, please.
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Date: 2017-04-24 10:29 pm (UTC)His skin was covered in scars, clear evidence of a harrowing life and a lack of resources for extensive, quick recovery from injuries that had left lasting marks. An criss-crossed storyboard of every shot, every slice, every fall and misfortune that he had encountered in his twenty years fighting an unending war.
It was a toss up for Cassian, on what he preferred when it came to his sexual encounters. At times he was the one in control. Other times he gave that control up with the expectation that his partners would provide the distraction he needed.
Hux was a man who liked control down to the very choice of words he bothered to use, and seemed to be experienced in having it. Cassian was willing to take that risk.]
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Date: 2017-04-26 04:42 am (UTC)He sees the scars, catalogs them. He has his own, faint and careful, but nothing like Cassian's. His had been treated with Bacta, so they didn't stand out--most had disappeared entirely. Btu they existed internally, even if they didn't show.]
What turns you on, Cassian? Tell me.
[Does it matter? Perhaps. Hux's hands slide out, with one cupping his neck, thumb resting along the back of his ear, while the other slid along his chest, fingers brushing along scars, grazing along his waist.]
I can bring out the crop now, but if you didn't enjoy it...well. Such a waste.
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Date: 2017-05-04 01:22 am (UTC)The idea of the crop didn't exactly thrill him, though it was not from a disinterest in pain. The light touch on his neck was something he could focus on, though, and he tilted his head to the side and back, pressing the touch deeper into his skin.]
It depends on how you intend to use it. Are you relying on it to do the work, or putting it to use to compliment your own actions?
You have the control here, I want to see if you know what to do with it. Show me you can handle it. Put me to use. Make me want to bend to your will or force me to. The path you choose to do so by is your decision.
[He emphasized his words by taking a step forward, trapping Hux between himself and the wall, his hand flat on the surface to the side of Hux's head. A challenge. One he had a feeling Hux would either enjoy rising to, or end it over.
Cassian had not found himself particular in what turned him on. It was about taking himself or his partner out of their own heads that he enjoyed. Watching someone come apart, or being taken apart himself, though he had been known to enjoy a simple, quick fuck now and then when time was short or he couldn't find the right sort of people to be part of it.]
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