[centre][hr][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/181005/fc898f921f53203bc3bc9106717c7c88.png[/img]

[sub][color=Silver][i]The Siege of Amone, September 26th - [b]A Conversation that was needed[/b][/i][/color][/sub]
[hr][/centre]
[color=Silver]	Jean's feet were planted firmly in place as he spectated the showdown between the Captain and the Private. Lords above, it was terrifying to watch. The fist that was tightly wrapped around the collar of Michael was firmly in place, awaiting to clench down on his throat and snap the small one's neck into two pieces. Venom spewed from his lips and the coarse sound of a roughened viper's hiss was heard at his every vocalised chord. Stressful splinters began to pepper Michael endlessly, challenging his retorts with only more violent threats and angered promises. Lucia was the cause of the issue, of course, having been absurdly considered as a ridiculed victim of Michael himself. It was...difficult to really analyse the truth from there. Any outsider would've been confused as to what was going on, but Jean himself didn't know what to make of it. He took Michael's side by heart, clearly, when he knew that his intentions were only for the betterment of a broken, innocent girl who needed rescue. However, Lucia was most likely something he held dear to, in terms of the Captain. Jean didn't know the reason, nor could he really discover it by conventional means, but the way that Lucia herself seemed to stick around the monstrosity made it clear that perhaps things hadn't always been so black-and-white between the two. Was there more, or less, to be expected? It reminded him of a father, or a mother, who once forced Jean into hiding within his own home for what felt like an eternity, just to avoid the true horrors of the world itself. Maybe...just maybe, Captain Middleton saw Lucia in the same way Jean's parents had seen himself. That was a thought that terrified him. Free-will was barely frugal during those times, and even now it was less clear on whether or not the human right still held value, Darcsen or not. It just hit Jean close to home to really think that perhaps there were more victims like himself. Whilst it was evident that Jean's own parents did it out of extremist love for their son, as well as the pain of losing their elder daughter to the very same troubles, all was unclear between Lucia and her apparent guardian.

	Things like these were never clear to the poor mind of Jean. Nothing ever made sense. There was nothing in the world he truly understood. War, death, life and even basic functions of happiness were all a strong enigma to him. Sauntering through life without any understanding was almost...deathly, and corrupt, for the Francian. Purpose had not been met. Purpose, at least to himself, was not the forced and pressured addition into the armed forces of the Federation. Purpose was also not a calling to war when the aggressor took action against his own people. Instead, purpose was just a reason [i]to[/i] stay alive, and not one to simply occupy the fleeting moments. Jean wasn't living anymore; he was just killing time, now.

	Hunting him down wasn't so difficult. The noise Middleton made when conclusion of the scolding began to make itself clear. Jean let out a sigh of relief, albeit a weakened one full of fatigue and tiredness, knowing that Michael had yet to be completely sanctioned or even harmed by the Captain himself. It seemed that whatever Gods were above, they had plans for the little Cruxian. Jean admired that a lot about Michael. The two had spoken more in the past with frequent philosophical subjects, talks of morality and even discussing interests, but the recent weeks in Amone had taken a huge toll on their connection so far. Jean knew it was only within his best interests to approach Michael again soon, once he had perhaps gathered his bearings from the barrage of insults spat from their Captain's mouth, but that time was not just yet passing. Instead, he felt a presence suddenly dawn upon his right flank, causing Jean to quickly jump and turn in panic as the uniformed body became clear to his vision. Jean's breath luckily released itself upon the identity's discovery, feeling comfortable upon realisation.[/color]

[color=5D7CFF][b]"Attentive as always, Baguette-boy?"[/b][/color] [color=Silver]The comedic tone and unmistakable accent solidified his theory on its origin, putting him at ease as the chuckle slowly crept out from beneath his own tongue. It was a really, almost incredibly, shitty insulting nickname to give, but perhaps that was likely the point. Thomas had always a knack for positivity in the face of many distraught situations. It was what made Freya a good companion to him, as she strove to learn the arts of his optimistic values. Perhaps it was what gave him such a strong reputation back in Oceania. The smile, the tone and the acts of bravery: no wonder he was the supposed [i]Pride of Oceania[/i], a true warrior by heart.[/color] [color=5D7CFF][b]"You seem oddly neutral for once. Never seen someone with such blankness in their face, ey? Not even mildly depressed for once?"[/b][/color]

[color=Silver]	It struck a small nerve with Jean at first, initially taking it as an insult, but it soon resonated with him that it was a more satirical conversation in practice than anything of a serious note. If it were anyone else daring to make such a joke at the expense of his mental dignity, Jean would've been far less lenient in his response, but knowing fully well that Thomas was a man of many good deeds, he let it slide. In all honesty, Jean himself didn't know anyone [i]that[/i] well. He knew Reyna probably the best, as well as Diana from conversations he'd heard all over, as well as the good stories of Freya and Ines separately, but entirely Jean did not know someone as well as Thomas, who was a man he had barely spoken to. It seemed highly peculiar.[/color]

[color=Aqua][b]"I was just...well it's not exactly been a few good weeks, has it?"[/b][/color] [color=Silver]Thomas quietly shook his head before making an attempt to smile himself, glaring at his own uniform whilst adjusting its neatness. Even in a combat zone, he still had to look his best for those who wanted to follow in his footsteps. And when Jean meant neatness, he meant the complete opposite. His uniform was filled with patches of dirt from recent operations and had also been spruced up with the creases of extensive use. Jean smiled comfortably at the thought of how the other officer's perceived his Oceanic, rebellious look despite being a well-rounded soldier who liked to get things done.[/color] [color=Aqua][b]"How's your injury been holding up? Improved since we got here?"[/b][/color]

[color=5D7CFF][b]"Well, y'know...Just a bit of a biter here and there. Luckily they brought up a few of those ragnite stretchers, y'know the ones that do weird shit to your wounds. Heard some boys back home were trying to make it mobile and applicable for frontline quick use, but that just sounds bonkers to me, mate. Either way, I feel as light as a feather, mainly from still recovering from its adrenaline after effect."[/b][/color] [color=Silver]Jean looked towards where the previous wear and tears had been in his body, piercing his skin like the knife that had caused such a monstrous injury. He was close to death more than once, judging by how he reacted and handled it. Perhaps this was something a high-profile soldier had to be used to. Thomas would've said otherwise, such as that it was such life of any soldier...he was just luckier than others.[/color] [color=5D7CFF][b]"What's got you down, son?"[/b][/color]

[color=Silver]	The sudden interception of Jean's thoughts caught him off guard, only to be replied with by a small sigh to begin. Jean didn't know how to answer that, it was very sudden. What had him down? Well, where was there to start? Jean had witnessed one of the soldier's in his squad that he truly liked and appreciated be belittled by their Captain, who had a life that reeked of potential tragedy just waiting to be uncovered. Alongside that, the world around him had collapsed for a week when yellow mists flooded the streets and the lungs of many civilians, Imperials and Federation soldiers alike. But most of all, plaguing Jean's head from the very start was...[/color]

[color=Aqua][b]"I...don't really feel like I'm appreciated as an NCO?"[/b][/color] [color=Silver]By accident, Jean had spilt a secret that he really hated to admit. It was one that felt selfish at heart, one that made him feel only arrogant towards his own personal improvements, however with what little he had to take pride in being a good NCO was one of the few that really made him glad to help. Unfortunately for Jean, it felt that his disconnection with his own squad had severed all forms of gratitude between one another. He sometimes felt that it was hard to give his thanks to his own subordinates and friends through anxiety, whereas the same was given to him. From his memory, only Diana and Kalisa had thanked Jean for his strange acts at Hill 58, and Amone itself was a rather confusing matter of strange episodes, one after the other. It was not a great time to really be an NCO at all, this Great War of Europa, nor would it ever be something to appreciate.[/color] [color=Aqua][b]"I-I mean...like...I just...don't feel like I can really...contribute to the people around me. They drink, have fun, laugh and play games, talk about their pasts with reminiscent smiles and make beautiful relationships bloom, yet...I can't even talk to a girl I like, or friends that I just want to assist. The other Francian girl has made a good effort for me, which was nice but...I feel like I really differ in personality to her."[/b][/color]

[color=5D7CFF][b]"And?"[/b][/color] [color=Silver]Once again, the blunt response took Jean by surprise, forcing him to sit down and contemplate what he really meant. Soon enough, he elaborated on the point at hand.[/color] [color=5D7CFF][b]"Just be you, mate. G'down with the muckers and just be yourself. Heard y'were a writer? That's interesting to me. Love to read before I go to sleep every night. Surely it must intrigue some others. And hell...don't talk to me about relationship advice...I've got a poor record with girls."[/b][/color]

[color=Silver]	Jean's distressed look turned to strange intrigue, mixed with amusement, as he eyed Thomas up with a strange glare, pressing the matter forward. With a slight chuckle, he finally opened his mouth and questioned the words he said.[/color]

[color=Aqua][b]"Previous relationships?"[/b][/color]

[color=5D7CFF][b]"Ever dated a super-hot lady who turned out to be your best friend's by-law Auntie, despite them being of similar age?"[/b][/color] [color=Silver]Jean's face went bright red as he staggered backwards, unable to comprehend the casual and playful tone of Thomas' awkward acceptance of its ridiculousness.[/color] [color=5D7CFF][b]"Guess not! You ever even had a girlfriend?"[/b][/color]

[color=Aqua][b]"Uhm...n-no...No I haven't ever had a relationship partner. I...am not good with talking to the opposing gender in flirtatious ways."[/b][/color] [color=Silver]Thomas grinned and nodded, admiring his honesty and strange openness that had never really been experienced by the others. Jean was starting to become a far more interesting individual to the Oceanic Corporal, at least for the time being, in that he was prepared to speak as if someday he would no longer be able to sleep no more.[/color]