[ In one sense, John hasn't really had conversations like this— all rigorous ambition and disregard for the limits, a minute from demonstrating theorem mathematics on the back of a napkin— in lifetimes. It's been a hell of a long time since he was in this position: men with nothing to their names but underdog enthusiasm and necessity, untested magic and the fire to use it. He's been feeling the old days more and more, since he washed up on this shore. Remembering the first stumbling steps of a fledgling empire.
In another, this is the same conversation he's had twenty times, except he's usually the guy waving the war banner. His banner-waving has been getting weaker by the day. The empire's wheezing its last, these days, and clawing his way back towards it hasn't won him anything but bruises. He's had a bad go of it, taking potshots at the bastards kicking them down. It isn't a popular opinion, and it's looked a hell of a lot like a hopeless one, too.
But what else can he do, right? Chara has always had the right of it: what the fuck else can people like them do.
John finishes his drink. He sets the glass down with a final, decisive click. He resolves himself, for probably the twentieth time, to ill-fated deicide. ]
belatedly wraps this
In another, this is the same conversation he's had twenty times, except he's usually the guy waving the war banner. His banner-waving has been getting weaker by the day. The empire's wheezing its last, these days, and clawing his way back towards it hasn't won him anything but bruises. He's had a bad go of it, taking potshots at the bastards kicking them down. It isn't a popular opinion, and it's looked a hell of a lot like a hopeless one, too.
But what else can he do, right? Chara has always had the right of it: what the fuck else can people like them do.
John finishes his drink. He sets the glass down with a final, decisive click. He resolves himself, for probably the twentieth time, to ill-fated deicide. ]
Let's get testing.