[it's pathetic, really, that this is all he has: a baseless question, an appeal to nothing, a blaster pressed into her side. pathetic, and not altogether surprising; this entire confrontation has turned a ghost into flesh and blood, made a nightmare tangible, and with all the remaining trappings from a scared child who hadn't understood removed, jyn sees nothing but the truth.
orson krennic is really just that: pathetic.
with that revelation, it isn't even an effort to not falter. her hard stare is as easy to maintain as her balance, and is as steady as her voice.]
You think they won't care if you kill someone in front of them? [of course that's what he thinks — every imperial she's ever dealt with above a certain rank doesn't think that any rules apply to them at all — but that's not the point of saying it. she tips her chin, defiant.] Go ahead. Do it.
[it's not like she fucking cares about the outcome of this baiting one way or another. she'd been a dead woman walking long before she'd ever set foot on scarif.]
no subject
orson krennic is really just that: pathetic.
with that revelation, it isn't even an effort to not falter. her hard stare is as easy to maintain as her balance, and is as steady as her voice.]
You think they won't care if you kill someone in front of them? [of course that's what he thinks — every imperial she's ever dealt with above a certain rank doesn't think that any rules apply to them at all — but that's not the point of saying it. she tips her chin, defiant.] Go ahead. Do it.
[it's not like she fucking cares about the outcome of this baiting one way or another. she'd been a dead woman walking long before she'd ever set foot on scarif.]