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[sub][color=Silver][i]The Siege of Amone, September 26th - [b]The Talks[/b][/i][/color][/sub]
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[color=Silver]	Thomas looked towards Jean with a somewhat cynical grin plastered upon his face, chuckling beneath closed lips as he sort of jokingly mocked the Francian for his revelation of failure in relationships. Jean looked at him nervously before the veteran Corporal burst into laughter, holding his chest to keep his sides from completely splitting down the middle. A quick flourish of rosy pink shone down the Francian's cheeks, equating to a sense of nervousness from the judgement and embarrassment overall at the confession of not ever having a relationship partner. At least by Jean's age, most individuals would brag that they had a childhood sweetheart at least once or twice, or even had a significant crush in their youth, but having the isolation that plagued the rural social skills known as Jean's he was restricted from such confessions and instead left looking like even more of a loner. To his surprise though, Jean was moderately pleased and tempted to laugh when the real reason for his outburst of laughter came around. With a brisk ruffle of Jean's own darkened hair, Thomas finally began to make physical contact with the anxious Corporal and shower him in a slight mutual presentation of humour.[/color]

[color=5D7CFF][b]"Y'know, with the amount of flirting Freya said you'd done in the past, as well as the whole Francian natural charm part of you, I'd have thought you'd been married and divorced about twelve times already."[/b][/color] [color=Silver]Somehow the general absurdity of his claim made Jean smile himself, grinning and almost laughing aloud himself, if not for the sort of sickening mood of Middleton's departure, having shouted at Michael loudly it seemed. Jean was tempted to fire back with his own humorous insult, but refrained out of respect for the soldier, who'd distinguished himself across the fields of Europa and even the Southern Indoeast plains. There were little who really carried anything of such high credibility like Thomas did, at least from the start of the war in 1910EC. He'd been to hell and back a million times, and would gladly do it again if it meant giving more pride to Oceania and protecting the people who wanted to stay near his side, in and out of combat. As the two continued to laugh, Thomas finally broke the fit of giggles to add something both light-hearted and seriously toned at the exact same time, placing a gentle hand back onto his Darcsen hair and ruffling it once more. To Jean, it felt like something that Olivia would've done. And partially it felt like he had an older sibling again, playfully tampering with his lengthened hair again and again with a sense of teasing with it. None of the other squadmates had clearly figured it out...but Jean really liked having his hair ruffled for that very familial reason.[/color] [color=5D7CFF][b]Y'know, you and I are kind of similar in one way or another."[/b][/color]

[color=silver]	Once again, the strange absurdity of his claim made Jean spiral into a small fit of light chuckles, shaking his head nervously as he denied being anything like Thomas was: great, charismatic and overall fine with his work as a soldier to the people. But even as he denied such assertions, Thomas continued to nod, as if to press the matter and force Jean to respond with his own words. Yet he couldn't. It was such a strange thing to consider that Jean didn't actually know how to take in the information. They were different in every way, at first glance, and the surface level information fully brought it out into a believable state. However, with that on Jean's poorly informed mind, Thomas simply brought his reasoning into the equation, trying hard to combat any falsified denial that the Francian Corporal may have had.[/color]

[color=5D7CFF][b]"Right, well...not entirely the same. But when I first joined the war, believe it or not, I was rather timid myself. However, there was one thing I did that I still do today, and that's put others before me. It's a dime-a-dozen quality that never gets passed around, and I feel like your greenhorn insertion into the NCO ranking really threw up a new perspective, making it feel like you weren't here as a career soldier but out of the kindness of the others. And in a way, we both do some really stupid shit because of it, maybe me more than you, because I've been fightin' a tad longer, lad, but just some of what your qualities give is like looking directly into a mirror of the past."[/b][/color] [color=Silver]Once again, Jean took the defensive stance, smirking to himself as he tried to challenge Thomas' point of view. This had become a small, yet friendly, competition to become the most convincing, and this time both of them were not ready to back down on their own agendas.[/color]

[color=Aqua][b]"I...don't do stupid shit?"[/b][/color]

[color=5D7CFF][b]"Come on, laddie! Freya told me you ran into a battlefield to grab those shitty binoculars and nearly got y'head blown off by doing so!"[/b][/color] [color=Silver]At the end of the day, it only took a few seconds for Jean to be trumped and silenced by his point. Jean [i]had[/i] gone ahead and done something that stupid. And it was during his first battle, the one he was most scared about back then. It was a point in life where his body was acting before his mind, and it did things that he didn't think he was capable of braving up towards. From the complimentary accomplishment of Kalisa stating that Jean [i]'Had balls'[/i], it was the first and last time that Jean himself had felt like he was appreciated genuinely in the heat of a bloody moment. Jean could've argued back that Thomas himself did things worse, but he'd already acknowledged that right from the get-go. It was too good to be true. Jean had done some really really stupid shit on the frontlines, and some of them even worked tremendously in his favour.[/color] [color=5D7CFF][b]"Di'I ever tell you about the time I dragged a man for three kilometres across the hills of the South just to get him away from an artillery barrage?"[/b][/color]

[color=Silver]	Curious to what he meant, Jean shook his head, and thus Thomas began to recollect the memories of such a strange tale. From the time that his friend had taken a painful bullet straight into one of his kneecaps, rendering him immobile for the weeks to come, to the extravagant combination of agility and stamina required to acquire such a successful expedition, all whilst under the occasional fire of raiding parties, soldiers from dugouts and the odd marksman or two. Three kilometres, the largest known apparent no-man's land derived at the time. Now, trenches sat within sprinting distance of one another, sometimes at most a few hundred metres or so. People were now fighting for inches and feet, not miles like they'd once been told they would. There was no glory in bleeding over a single field; a single field that required thousands of lives just to cross successfully. Thomas commented on such regards as if it were a strange amenity of human nature. Clearly he'd had time to think about such philosophical and philanthropic endeavours before he'd met Jean's squad, with his days spanning across the world under the one condition of consistent fighting.

	Suddenly, he shifted the question again, turning the conversation back to Jean as if the story he'd been telling was not really important in the first place. Well, one could've argued that it was far too pointless to tell, but Jean sought to see some inspiration and general intrigue from his wild experiences. After all, one of those many tales could've been what saved Jean's life in the near future, presenting him with a wide array of strange tactics and thought processes to combat such dangerous and violent endeavours put against him. When the question was shifted back to Jean, in all honesty, he was not prepared to see the sudden seriousness of their conversation. Well, it wouldn't have been serious if it were a question asked to anyone with a more cheerful story to tell, but Jean was already uncertain of how he was going to answer the request.[/color]

[color=5D7CFF][b]"Say...Jean, why'd you even come out here to fight? Like...I really don't believe that someone like you would sign up with courage or nationalism under their reasoning, no offence. But the question still stands, mate: why'd you sign up? Intrigue? Sense of adventure? Wanted a new life?"[/b][/color] [color=Silver]Jean looked away for a moment, shifting his fingers in and out of themselves as they twisted about one another, nervously and curiously as to how he would answer something so personal. Thomas hadn't a clue unfortunately about where Jean had come from, who he was or why he'd even signed up. All that he knew was based on experience and the few war-stories told from Jean's first month on the frontlines. And in reality, Jean himself hadn't thought too much about it. There were a few reasons why he'd actually sold his soul to such discontent in the world of war, where death was the common occurrence and life was but a fragile concept barely recognised anymore. Now, it was a case of identifying them, and he thought for a few seconds about how he could answer it. Eventually, he found his footing on the subject and looked towards Thomas with a somewhat distant glare, as if it were shooting straight through his body and bypassing the city itself, where he spoke with a fractured smile.[/color]

[color=Aqua][b]"Well, uhh...I joined because I had nothing left in the world. When this whole thing started, my sibling, the very blood of my alter and light in my existence, fell during the first Maren River Offensive, towards the very end of it all. They said she died a hero, but no one can ever confirm it. She fell where I was left behind to await her eventual return, only to be met with disappointment, never to see her body, even alive nor dead, with a bitterness in my mind. I cried most nights, and as the years went on the pressure built up. More and more families called us cowards for not enlisting, so I did what I could to relieve some pressure off of my family. In reality, I wanted to experience what my sister went through, so that when I drift up to whatever afterlife she occupies now, we can sit together and know we perhaps failed in our conquest of hell."[/b][/color] [color=Silver]His poetic tone returned in his soliloquy, and Jean noticed that Thomas' glance was not one of amusement but rather intrigue and interest. With a more neutral glare, he waited to see what came next of Jean's tale, and was soon met with the answer he sought out.[/color] [color=Aqua][b]"As to why I stay...I...I want to be something to people. Sometimes more than a friend, sometimes more than a Corporal. But if my life ends not in the line of duty, but in the line of saving my allies that I care about...then so be that fateful bullet, when it strikes me down."[/b][/color]

[color=Silver]	For a minute or two, there was a deathly silence between them. Thomas was busy trying to make sense of what he said, in a positive way, and hoped to wrap it fully around his head so he did not make any further mistakes with his conversation. Jean, on the other hand, was more relieved that for once he opened up about that true reason. It was true for him. Jean did care about protecting others. There were some he hadn't ever felt comfortable, safe nor happy around, with Luke and occasionally the oddball like Diana causing strange ruckuses around the squad, but even Jean wanted to make sure they had a chance to go home safe. Many individuals had a family member, or even a solitary life ahead of them, that required their attendance. Whilst there was much room to change that fate, all Jean presumed was that his life was to end in this Great War, doing something to honour the resting name of the Robin-Charpentiers as a principled, righteous final descendent, letting the tragedy of that name end where it began: in the ditches of Europa.

	Thomas finally let out a sigh of uncertain relief as his stomach churned gently. The rifle that was slung around his shoulders soon came off, placed against the hard concrete ground to relieve the excess mass from his body. Surprisingly, he took off his prized bush-boonie and let his hair mutter in the gentle gales themselves. For a moment, he'd ridden himself of the poor anthology that was his military pride, and instead tried to return to the more human equivalent of Thomas Carter, not [i]Marathon[/i]. Jean looked directly at him, confusion settling in as he awaited what he had to say. And eventually, Thomas delivered something that Jean did not anticipate.

	All of a sudden, a single tear stroked Thomas' right cheek with graceful entry. It wasn't a bawl or a whimper, but rather a strange tear one would get when remembering things could've been better. And at that moment, Jean began to realise that this wasn't something that he ever wanted to tell, but for the sake of levelling himself and humanising his own status with the more common Francian, it was work spilling for the sake of his own generation of soldiers.[/color]

[color=5D7CFF][b]"I'm goin' to be real with you mate...I want to go home. I miss it. Every day, and every night, I get on my lil' knees and pray that someday I'll go home and see Ma 'n' Pa. To me, I'm not a soldier, but a farm boy with a lot to lose. People may call me the [i]Pride of Oceania[/i], but all I am, Jean, is a little scared man who wants to see his family again. I know it's hard for you to empathise directly, mate, but I really think that maybe...maybe we're more alike than first glance suggests."[/b][/color] [color=Silver]Thomas wiped away the tear, leaving Jean speechless and uncertain of how to react to such a strange revelation. Was it true? Thomas wasn't the cookie-cutter soldier that everyone made him out to be, and instead felt the very same childlike emotions that any rational individual wanted to feel. He wanted the comfort of being tucked in at night, read bedtime stories and told that there were no monsters beneath his small wooden bed, yet as a grown man he was now the very monster his mother warned him of, and the war was the bed they hid beneath.[/color]

[color=Aqua][b]"Thomas...I...I really don't-"[/b][/color]

[color=5D7CFF][b]"All I'm sayin' is, mate...you're doing a good job, I think, personally. Many others may not think it, but fuck 'em...You're stronger than you imagine, and even the strongest around you feel the same fetal desires as any other branded as a coward. Just know...we're here for you too, if that helps make some piece of mind?"[/b][/color] [color=Silver]Despite wanting to, Jean didn't shed any tears, but instead gave a pained smile, one that spoke clearly for him. It...meant so much, strangely, to hear such a distinguished fighter rid their own fame for levelling humanity with a Darcsen. For once, there was no mentioning of race, nor class divides, and instead they were seen as only one thing: humans. In of itself, Jean really liked what Thomas had to say, and knew that this was something he wanted to keep close to his heart forever. Lest the days brought more misery, Thomas would always be there to bless the Squad with humour, charisma and knowledge behind all closed doors. But suddenly, the mood changed entirely when Diana came by with a small plate of cookies, to which Thomas quickly wiped away his tear, put on his hat and made it out like nothing happened, casually going over to Diana and taking a cookie for himself before winking at her.[/color] [color=5D7CFF][b]"Can't tell which one is the real treat, ay' gal?"[/b][/color]

[color=Silver]	As Thomas returned with his confectionery prize, finally Michael decided to join them and asked politely if he could enter their presence and conversation, to which Jean quickly deterred from the melancholic conversation him and Thomas had to help Michael improve his own mood. Clearly, the impact Middleton would've had on him was far from satisfactory, thus Jean wanted to at least make something interesting to talk about.[/color]

[color=Aqua][b]"Hey, Michael...Been too long since we managed to catch up, y'know...with all this fighting. But how's things going? Well prepared for the future?"[/b][/color] [color=Silver]As he gave him a small window of opportunity to respond, Jean also pressed a more casual question towards him with an oddly uncharacteristic smile.[/color] [color=Aqua][b]"Ignoring the Captain for a moment, pretending he doesn't exist...how's things with you and Lucia? She talked about you a lot to me, when she proclaimed to be my new younger sister. She's full of surprises, but I think she really has a good connection with you, Mr Daunte."[/b][/color]

[centre][sub][@Conscripts][@Landaus Five-One][/sub][/centre]