Loth-kitten
“Honestly, Syndulla? I was trying as politely as I possibly could to just tell you guys to get lost. You didn't want to hear the message though. I mean the five of us barely knew each other...”
Hera frowns, “And now that you've lived with us for more than a week and have had the chance to get to know all five of us better?”
“You’re decent people enough people Hera, I'm really not saying otherwise, but I’m still not interested in buying any of what you’re specifically selling. ”
“Considering how briefly we've talked about it Ezra, how can you be so sure of that?”
“Because I know your *type* Hera Syndulla, okay? I’ve already lived through two rounds of being typecast as the future martyr’s assistant? And honestly? I have no interest in even auditioning for a round three. That particular role never ever ends well for me."
Hera jerks as if slapped. "We're not martyrs Ezra."
"No. Right now you're basically zealots. But you'll get there in time unless something changes. I know the signs and the patterns like the back of my hand. And I can't afford to be in that blast zone again, speaking frankly. Not when round two of that life left me with the hole in my head I’m going to be living with for the rest of my life because I missed the blast zone that killed my master by less than three feet. Never mind that I’d have preferred to just go with him. Round one was just slightly less awful, it left me alone at seven on the street. As I said I've been invited to this ball before and it always, *always* ends badly.“
“Ezra,” Hera tries to protest, clearly upset by his words, but Ezra just cuts her off: he isn't done speaking his piece yet. He's had days to plan this speech, after all and he needs this amputation to be neat, clean and most of all deep.
“Sacrifice is a noble path, isn't that what you implied earlier Syndulla? 'If the only life you fight for is your own than your own life means nothing?' Right? Only the funny thing about that philosophy is that in my experience the people who say stuff like that the loudest are usually the ones who are most eager to die and leave everyone else around them to shoulder the real work of *living.*"
Hera frowns, “And now that you've lived with us for more than a week and have had the chance to get to know all five of us better?”
“You’re decent people enough people Hera, I'm really not saying otherwise, but I’m still not interested in buying any of what you’re specifically selling. ”
“Considering how briefly we've talked about it Ezra, how can you be so sure of that?”
“Because I know your *type* Hera Syndulla, okay? I’ve already lived through two rounds of being typecast as the future martyr’s assistant? And honestly? I have no interest in even auditioning for a round three. That particular role never ever ends well for me."
Hera jerks as if slapped. "We're not martyrs Ezra."
"No. Right now you're basically zealots. But you'll get there in time unless something changes. I know the signs and the patterns like the back of my hand. And I can't afford to be in that blast zone again, speaking frankly. Not when round two of that life left me with the hole in my head I’m going to be living with for the rest of my life because I missed the blast zone that killed my master by less than three feet. Never mind that I’d have preferred to just go with him. Round one was just slightly less awful, it left me alone at seven on the street. As I said I've been invited to this ball before and it always, *always* ends badly.“
“Ezra,” Hera tries to protest, clearly upset by his words, but Ezra just cuts her off: he isn't done speaking his piece yet. He's had days to plan this speech, after all and he needs this amputation to be neat, clean and most of all deep.
“Sacrifice is a noble path, isn't that what you implied earlier Syndulla? 'If the only life you fight for is your own than your own life means nothing?' Right? Only the funny thing about that philosophy is that in my experience the people who say stuff like that the loudest are usually the ones who are most eager to die and leave everyone else around them to shoulder the real work of *living.*"