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

[sub][color=Silver][i]The Siege of Amone, September 27th - [b]What happened?[/b][/i][/color][/sub]

[hr][/centre]

[color=Silver]	Never before had Jean's heart and confidence been touched so lightly as it had by Kalisa's presence and closeness to the gift he'd given her a month prior. That scarf was indeed the closest memory he had of what life he used to live, where he still had a family to love and people to call his mother, father and sister. Deflecting nightmares and disturbances in the sleep was the perfect send off for such a scarf to Kalisa. Indeed, Jean did want to reunite with it at some point in the near future, but whilst it was around her neck he couldn't be more satisfied if he wanted to. There were points where she seemed disturbed by thoughts of her own, none of which Jean could narrow down or pinpoint to any cause. Seeing her shake her head to refocus herself only added a slight layer of worry across Jean's mind, leaving him to think about what she had to say next. She did question Thomas, though. True, they hadn't spoken probably at all, but she was there and fought alongside him at least once. It was hard to keep track of your allies sometimes, but Thomas...he stuck out clearer than anyone else.

	Her voice softly resonated with his ears as she took his hand, taking a knee before him. Draped in the most gentle tone and blended with the absolute tenderness of her soft grip, she spoke of his presence still being around. At first, Jean wondered if him even being around meant anything to anyone. He was here, just a nobody with chevrons failing at delivering the orders he wanted to give out. People died because of him and others thus refused to listen to him. He wasn't a Corporal, nor was he a real leader at all; but instead, he'd become a coward. If Victoria, Luke, Inès, Franz, Michael, Isaac, Britta, Diana, Reyna, Freya or anyone else in the squad burst through the closed flaps of his tent and barked ferocity over his lack of confidence, there would be no surprise to the Darcsen. Failure was a common practice. At times Jean was unable to remember the very day he met Kalisa, in which she commented on his confidence in the face of danger. Those days were almost mythological now. Unreal. Unbelievable. Unfathomable. Was there ever a time where Jean had risen up to the challenge like so, and delivered the results people wanted? No one ever admitted it, nor did anyone speak of it. And thus, he was left in the dark to wallow in his own pitiful anguish.

	And despite the coarse nature of his mind, Jean felt the softness of her hand tenderise his pity. His expression froze, crossing the boundaries between sadness and pure joy. From where she was knelt, he stared into her glistening eyes and brandished a small burst of happiness in doing so. With the very touch of her skin, he felt invigorated, blessed by the visions of her glorious nature. Jean didn't hold her on a godly level like some may have expected of his stupid awkwardness, but he did indeed see a light like no other in her soul. She was a Darcsen, and the bond those felt was either fragile or brilliantly strong. Jean hoped for nothing but the latter with Kalisa, for she could've very well been the one thing left to save him in that moment.

	He looked down, twiddling his thumbs as he thought of how to respond. She stood up and sat beside him and for a minute his heart leapt a beat. At first, she nearly stated that everything was going to be fine, when in fact nothing was really going to be fine unless someone acted upon it. They were left a man down and with holes in their hearts.[/color]

[color=Aqua][b]"It was...beyond hell. They sent five of us out to scout the area. They say the big attack is tomorrow, Kal'..."[/b][/color] [color=Silver]As he said the nickname she told him to say, he felt a tiny smile come onto his face before it faded. Slowly, his left hand lodged itself between her fingers once more as she sat beside him, only to help him comfortably get the words out.[/color] [color=Aqua][b]"In the dead of this fucking awful weather, we neared the end. And then a shot rang out soon after the large explosion here...When we turned back, a trap had been initiated, and Thomas' leg was separated from his...from his body."[/b][/color]

[color=Silver]	He wanted to stop, to cease talking about the viciousness of the skirmish and how it had taken its toll on him, but his mouth kept running, flowing like an uncontrollable tsunami unable to be halted. Every word he uttered was drenched in hours worth of pain, sadness, sorrow and anger. Why couldn't he stop? He felt a small tear begin to formulate in his eye, the first of one in weeks. He thought he'd suppressed the emotional distraught he'd felt, and yet here he was, letting loose the droplet that spelled out fear. His hand gently clasped tighter around Kalisa's hands and locked itself into a hardened clasp. He never wanted to let go. The smoothness of her tender skin kept him alive, and at least reminded him that there was something to feel.[/color]

[color=Aqua][b]"We...tried to help...no...Inès tried to help. I was helpless. Luke...the...the fucking bastard Luke and Victoria ran after the sniper, chasing him for glory...They left him to die, they did. And...we're here, listening to them celebrate outside. And all things considered we...we couldn't do anything. He was going to die without the help we couldn't give, and the help the others refused to show. We let a man die. A single man who'd done no wrong to us die. And for what?"[/b][/color] [color=Silver]He buried his chin into his palm and sat, staring blankly at the walls. For once he wasn't crying anymore, just...he sounded disappointed in himself more than anything else.[/color] [color=Aqua][b]"I'm...sorry Kal'. I'm just not a good person anymore. I'm not the leader people want, not the one they get."[/b][/color]

[centre][sub][@SMS][/sub][/centre]