[in her life, she's had to pick up an entire odd assortment of skills along the way, but one, perhaps above all, has proven the most critical: an ability to discern the truth — or at least what someone believes to be the truth — from the complete bantha shit. so many lie and manipulate to coerce people into who knows what: empire, rebellion, and neither, all alike, and empty promises are easy to spot from a parsec away.
from what she's able to see and hear from him, though, the openness and earnestness contained within, this man is telling her what he believes to be the truth.
she can't be angry with him for that. no, she — feels sad for him, in some ways. this is a man who, for his faults, otherwise seems quite smart has found himself believing in something so stupid, so naive, this wholeheartedly. he'll only be hurt eventually.
but why does she care? it's his own stupid fault for falling for it, comes a thought, one that doesn't stand much of a chance against the other that keeps sticking (she's rescued the souls of people close to others here, and sometimes the actual person comes back.).
in the end, they all wash away.]
No one looks after you, [she says, quietly, the derision from before completely faded from her voice. instead, it's quiet, with some of its edges rounded off into something that might be regarded as soft, given time. the hand gripping her plate is tight.] Even when they say they will. Especially not someone who claims to have that much power.
no subject
from what she's able to see and hear from him, though, the openness and earnestness contained within, this man is telling her what he believes to be the truth.
she can't be angry with him for that. no, she — feels sad for him, in some ways. this is a man who, for his faults, otherwise seems quite smart has found himself believing in something so stupid, so naive, this wholeheartedly. he'll only be hurt eventually.
but why does she care? it's his own stupid fault for falling for it, comes a thought, one that doesn't stand much of a chance against the other that keeps sticking (she's rescued the souls of people close to others here, and sometimes the actual person comes back.).
in the end, they all wash away.]
No one looks after you, [she says, quietly, the derision from before completely faded from her voice. instead, it's quiet, with some of its edges rounded off into something that might be regarded as soft, given time. the hand gripping her plate is tight.] Even when they say they will. Especially not someone who claims to have that much power.
[she looks him in the eye, then, chin tipped up.]
Might be helpful to remember that.