Maea
Oh, when the world is burning
It was her turn to listen, and she did so without turning away. Thus her flinch when he stated his opinion that their actions had sowed discord was unmistakeable, as did the near panicked vehemence against the idea of bending instead of fighting read like an open wound on a face that had never been able to conceal emotions. They were raging like the storm outside, on the cusp of overflowing into rage or hurt or petulant defensiveness - but to her credit, Maea restrained herself. Slowly, with great difficulty - but she did it.
"That makes you the fourth person to bring up the word 'martyr'," she grated out. Muscles worked in her jaw, chewing on the conclusions her mind drew form the evidence, for all that she didn't want to acknowledge it. "It appears that my beliefs is in vast minority after all. That's is... unfortunate." Slowly unfurling her fists, Maea reachedd for the glass. Wiping condensation from the outside, she stared into the liquid as if she might scry some path out of this conversation that didn't end up in parted ways and misery.
"How everyone chooses to react to what happened is beyond my control," she reflected. "I can only apologize for the things I regret; anything else would just be lipservice and I clearly don't do that." If she was capable of it, they would not be here now. "But when it comes to this concept of living to fight some other time – " she heaved a sigh, harsh with the bone deep discomfort it brought her just to think about it, " – it's not like I don't understand the logic, you know? I'm not stupid, even I would play along if looking meek and biddable served as a means to an end. But we don't have a plan. And until we do, bending is just bending. And I can't. If that is what will get me killed, I guess I'll just have to die. At least I'll go to Mort without regrets." It would only make her a martyr if others were inspired into action and thought by her deeds. Despite the contempt with which the term had been thrown around, martyrs were remembered for a reason. Because their lives and deaths resonated with others and offered meaning beyond the fact that they died.
"I don't want to die, mind you. There's just a lot of things that's worse than death. Living without freedom is such a thing for me."
"That makes you the fourth person to bring up the word 'martyr'," she grated out. Muscles worked in her jaw, chewing on the conclusions her mind drew form the evidence, for all that she didn't want to acknowledge it. "It appears that my beliefs is in vast minority after all. That's is... unfortunate." Slowly unfurling her fists, Maea reachedd for the glass. Wiping condensation from the outside, she stared into the liquid as if she might scry some path out of this conversation that didn't end up in parted ways and misery.
"How everyone chooses to react to what happened is beyond my control," she reflected. "I can only apologize for the things I regret; anything else would just be lipservice and I clearly don't do that." If she was capable of it, they would not be here now. "But when it comes to this concept of living to fight some other time – " she heaved a sigh, harsh with the bone deep discomfort it brought her just to think about it, " – it's not like I don't understand the logic, you know? I'm not stupid, even I would play along if looking meek and biddable served as a means to an end. But we don't have a plan. And until we do, bending is just bending. And I can't. If that is what will get me killed, I guess I'll just have to die. At least I'll go to Mort without regrets." It would only make her a martyr if others were inspired into action and thought by her deeds. Despite the contempt with which the term had been thrown around, martyrs were remembered for a reason. Because their lives and deaths resonated with others and offered meaning beyond the fact that they died.
"I don't want to die, mind you. There's just a lot of things that's worse than death. Living without freedom is such a thing for me."
Don't walk away
