run into the street and start a fight find someone in an imperial uniform and pummel them until his hands bled put on their uniform and let someone pummel him grab a blaster and get in the middle of a crowd and shoot over everyone's heads
what are these thoughts? are you kidding? none of those were remotely something he wanted—
fire a blaster into a wall of stone and see how deep a pit it could gouge until its power cells fused write a confession in blaster bolts in the base of the mountain hit rocks with the blaster until it snapped and his hands broke
you're not making sense, Kay would stop you, stop it
Violence. He didn't want it, but he felt it. The thoughts were coming from it. There had been so much—carving him in its image—making itself his tool—making him its agent—and now…
Drop Jyn's hand and hit the floor Punch a wall Throw things through the window smashing glass then crashing to the ground Just break windows kick them in all of them in the city
…but it had worked. Served its purpose. They'd won. The war was over. The violence could go away now.
It would never The war will You will
Knowing his whole body had started shaking, he focused intently on slowly and carefully opening his fingers and moving his hand away from Jyn's. Slowly and smoothly standing up. Trying to remember what the next move was supposed to be. Murmuring, "Be right back," to Jyn in a voice that approached normal. Keeping his steps reasonable getting into the fresher.
The sink was too small. He threw the lever that turned on the shower and stuck his head under the stream.
He wasn't entirely sure how he wound up standing, fully clothed, under the water with his palms and forehead pressed to the wall.
no subject
run into the street and start a fight
find someone in an imperial uniform and pummel them until his hands bled
put on their uniform and let someone pummel him
grab a blaster and get in the middle of a crowd and shoot over everyone's heads
what are these thoughts? are you kidding? none of those were remotely something he wanted—
fire a blaster into a wall of stone and see how deep a pit it could gouge until its power cells fused
write a confession in blaster bolts in the base of the mountain
hit rocks with the blaster until it snapped and his hands broke
you're not making sense, Kay would stop you, stop it
Violence. He didn't want it, but he felt it. The thoughts were coming from it. There had been so much—carving him in its image—making itself his tool—making him its agent—and now…
Drop Jyn's hand and hit the floor
Punch a wall
Throw things
through the window smashing glass then crashing to the ground
Just break windows kick them in all of them in the city
…but it had worked. Served its purpose. They'd won. The war was over. The violence could go away now.
It would never
The war will
You will
Knowing his whole body had started shaking, he focused intently on slowly and carefully opening his fingers and moving his hand away from Jyn's. Slowly and smoothly standing up. Trying to remember what the next move was supposed to be. Murmuring, "Be right back," to Jyn in a voice that approached normal. Keeping his steps reasonable getting into the fresher.
The sink was too small. He threw the lever that turned on the shower and stuck his head under the stream.
He wasn't entirely sure how he wound up standing, fully clothed, under the water with his palms and forehead pressed to the wall.