Light bounces through the window of the coach, catching tiny dust particles that were suspended in its beam of hazy sunshine. Rey sat searching through the light, looking for things she couldn't see. Shifting her skirts, she imagines what kind of man her brother will be, how he will look and act. She doubts he isn't too awfully kind as he is affiliated with such radical type of view as the First order.A sour look crosses her face as she realizes that he could be just as cruel as she hears Lord Ren to be, maybe even worse. But in many ways, she has to thank him, for her title as "lady" and for this inconspicuous opportunity to spy on the First Order.
She is under the guise of a family member seeking a home, seeking shelter. Lady Rey would have felt truly awful about spying on them if it were not for Mistress Leia's brother confirming her familiar ties to a Lord Armitage Hux. Now she just feels anxious, she has actual family waiting to see her and it left her with a heavy weight pressing down on her belly. But, however, excited she may be over the concept of family, her loyalties lay to with the resistance.
She is careful to remember why she is here.
She watches as the country passes through the tiny square of glass, rolling grassy hills that soon begin to give away to squat buildings and warehouses puffing heavy smoke into the clouds. So this is the London smog? she muses. How charming. A sensation of heaviness looms around her she hasn't been gone forty minutes and she is already longing for the cozy feeling of the resistances institute. Hours pass and her feelings drag on, one of dread arrives when she glances at the window and finds they have reached their destination. A dark intimidating structure skulking amidst the scaffolding of a nearby construction sight.
She hears the sound of horses nickering as they come to a halt, after a few nervous moments the door opened and she found a dark hand outstretched to help her down. She regards the servant with a fleeting smile and stepped down onto the ground, finding it surprisingly spongy in spite of the hardness around it. The dark man seems to be quite taken with her as his hand lingers on hers for a moment before he realizes the scandal he is committing, with a sheepish sort of smile he addresses that he is servant fn-2187 or "Finn" for short and tells her she is to wait in the parlor for Lord Armitage.
They walk to the door in silence, she thinks him a nice enough man; with childish eyes and a warm smile. If half of the help is like this she will have no problem staying here for a bit. As he walks her through the interior of the manor she shivers, cold air biting at her skin, making the earlier warmth from the coach recede in an instant. She finds the decor is sparse and what little there were was harsh and impersonal and when they reach the parlor the seat she waits on a round cushion covered with black velvet. On a whim, she runs her hand across the lavish feeling fabric, relishing in the way it tickled through her gloved hand. Finn leaves shortly with an apologetic smile on his lips and her childish game continues on for quite awhile. Among the harshness inside Ren manor, she has found pure interest in this pitch black chair. Her antics are stopped when a shrill creak nearly makes her jump from her skin. Swiveling her head she sighs when she finds it's simply an automaton, like the ones back at the resistance. This one is covered in a shockingly white type of metal and its eyes look down at her like onyx beetles as it announces for it to come along.
Regarding it suspiciously, she complies and follows it down an echoing corridor lined with paintings portraited of an pale man with aquiline features and an improper mop unruly dark hair framing his face. The sudden cold from earlier returns. Lord ren, it must be him. Feelings of disgust pop and bubble in her stomach. The automaton abruptly stops at an inglenook, scanning the room she finds a friable sort of man sitting at an oaken table. A small smile graces his thin lips as he motions her over and dismisses the auto. She shifts her skirts around and takes her places on one of the opposite wooden chairs and observes the man before her. A head of bright, almost garishly red hair lay atop, roofing his sharp pale features. Decidedly Rey thought he looked a seabird of some sort, though in small ways she could note their resemblance, hazel eyes and a dust of freckles if she looked close enough. After a moment of cutting silence, she decides to break
"Brother, it is nice to finally meet you after such long time. I wasn't even aware I had any family left." She tells.
He nods and his smile widens a bit deeper. She's bemused, imagining wings sprouting from his back and bringing him forth to the ocean.
"It came to me as a surprise when I read the letter that you should be arriving, I remember you as but a babe, squirming about in mothers lap" He recalls with a fondness in his eyes, then his mood shifts into one of expressive sadness.
" I had begun to believe you've passed"
He watches them through the automaton. Features drawing up in interest at the small girl who could make Hux less of a bother simply by showing up.
Hmmm, he searches his mind on what to think of this tiny woman. He's never seen anything quite like this one; her skin seemed to trap the sun and her hair was in the most peculiar set of buns. He wonders idly how far it would fall if he were to tug the ribbons out of her hair. She's quite the opposite of Phasma who was a giantess with fair hair and milky white skin.
Shaking his head of thoughts of women he returns his mind to the study around him. His long fingers wrap around a bottle of whiskey and he brings it up to his lips, brushing the hair aside from either side of his face before taking a long gulp. His face screws up as the fiery liquid chases warmth down his throat. Lord ren finds himself reminded of his father; a man of disbelief and lies. His life composite of alcohol and women until the day he met his match in a woman. And there he is again, thinking of the fairer sex. There's no escaping it really, they were everywhere. But, oddly enough, he finds himself stuck on the girl just downstairs, speculating what she was like. If she was but a fraction of irritation as Armitage could be well... he needs to clear out those thoughts immediately. It could be a fun game, courting the other fellow's sister to irritate him. A cruel smile whelps on his face as he idly fiddles with the buttons on his dark waistcoat. He raises his hand until he could feel that tingling magick coating his palm then uses it to send the empty bottle of spirits into the wastebasket. Yes, he decides, he will check up on this sister of a friend. What harm could it possibly bring besides further rubbing the ginger irritant further down the line of breaking?
