Jack could only stare at Howard with a mix of annoyance and open sadness.
What had happened to him to make him that bitter? That distrusting? Something had caused him harm. It always stung when they ran into the ones they couldn't help - that it was too late to help, and all he could really feel in the face of it was helplessness.
That annoyance was still there, though, and though the patience won out far more often than it used to, that didn't mean the immaturity had entirely been put to rest.
"I hate to break your lashing-out-at-somebody-because-the-universe-is-scary, authority-figure-hating bubble, but at this point, I don't care what you do as long as you don't get yourself killed or get in the way of us doing our jobs. Despite Manny picking you, you're not the Chosen Ones. You're not the ones that have to restore balance to the Force. You don't have a clue what your powers are or what you're doing, so if you were to fight, you'd be just as likely to trip us up as help."
The flow of teenage irritability stemmed somewhat, though his hand gestures as he spoke were expressing that there was still a little bit of it in there.
"Pick what you want to do, whether you want to fight (which is not our preference for anyone under eighteen), want to stay safe until you go home, or want to run off somewhere in our world and fend for yourself, and I can promise we won't stop you from doing any of those options - but we're not going to sit here holding your hands through the whole thing trying to assuage every little fear or talk you down from every little tantrum. We've got bigger things to worry about. We'll give you what we know and you can decide what to do with it."
no subject
Jack could only stare at Howard with a mix of annoyance and open sadness.
What had happened to him to make him that bitter? That distrusting? Something had caused him harm. It always stung when they ran into the ones they couldn't help - that it was too late to help, and all he could really feel in the face of it was helplessness.
That annoyance was still there, though, and though the patience won out far more often than it used to, that didn't mean the immaturity had entirely been put to rest.
"I hate to break your lashing-out-at-somebody-because-the-universe-is-scary, authority-figure-hating bubble, but at this point, I don't care what you do as long as you don't get yourself killed or get in the way of us doing our jobs. Despite Manny picking you, you're not the Chosen Ones. You're not the ones that have to restore balance to the Force. You don't have a clue what your powers are or what you're doing, so if you were to fight, you'd be just as likely to trip us up as help."
The flow of teenage irritability stemmed somewhat, though his hand gestures as he spoke were expressing that there was still a little bit of it in there.
"Pick what you want to do, whether you want to fight (which is not our preference for anyone under eighteen), want to stay safe until you go home, or want to run off somewhere in our world and fend for yourself, and I can promise we won't stop you from doing any of those options - but we're not going to sit here holding your hands through the whole thing trying to assuage every little fear or talk you down from every little tantrum. We've got bigger things to worry about. We'll give you what we know and you can decide what to do with it."