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[h3][color=ed1c24]Jonas Highwind[/color][/h3]
[@Krayzikk][@Plank Sinatra][@Write][@Caasicam][/center]

[color=ed1c24]"Good, you're not a coward."[/color] he flippantly intoned from the stove, [color=ed1c24]"Otherwise I'd have to toss you in the fridge, Danaye. [i]Akhmat zila[/i]."[/color]

Mechanically turning over the bacon and setting the water into another swirl, Jonas couldn't deny his appreciation of the sentiment his sister had laid out, inside jokes about the cowardice of weight-cutting aside— for all they were trumped up to be, the faculty were in the end little more than an obstacle. A bump in the road that they could collectively climb over, maybe not so easily as those gathered here would think, but surmountable all the same.

And yet.

[color=ed1c24]"Yeah, fuck 'em. I reached the same conclusion when you got here."[/color]

One by one, another set of eggs were cracked into the simmering vortex. He looked up from the pot for a moment, steely eyes seemingly set on boring holes through the kitchen's walls and out towards something a horizon away. Rebekah was sharp enough to understand their position as he did, naturally, but what he and she were [i]thinking[/i] seemed to be a different story. It was inevitable, even disregarding that they simply processed information differently (as any two people would). Their stakes, their personal investments, their aspirations— all were definitely distinct.

[color=ed1c24]"It's just the principle, I guess. You'd think that [i]here[/i], of all places, my chasing Herakles would be fostered and encouraged, but it looks like I was mistaken."[/color]

He removed the bacon, now sufficiently crisp, and toasted the remaining muffins. 

If there was one commonality, it was that they were both here simply because they had to be, and simply because everyone around them that they cared for was as well. He didn't know what Bekah's goals were. What she dreamed of. Flippant as she was, they certainly had nothing to do with OA. She shared none of his expectations, however flimsy they had become in the five years he'd held onto them. He didn't know if even she had laid any dream [i]out[/i] yet, but what he did know were his own.

[color=ed1c24]"I'm just having to face that reality now. It's been in front of me for a long time, just tucked away enough to ignore, but after today it's slapped me in the face and spat upon my boot."[/color]

Lofty ideals, shining images upon the hills of Elysium that were immortalized in human memory through their deeds, through their valor. He wanted to count himself amongst their number. He had been blessed with great power, and had thought that it would be cultivated better nowhere else than here before he threw himself into the world to use it, wholeheartedly, for good.

Their rebuke was by all rights a tacit rejection of the notion.

As if he were childish for thinking of it at all.

[color=ed1c24]"I guess I shouldn't be surprised at having to carve my own path, seeing as I always kind of figured I would. It's my own naivete that's in eating at my head the most. In that regard, I guess their punishment may have worked a little on me after all— Just not quite how they planned it."[/color]

Another platter slid onto the table, having been assembled as he multitasked.

He folded brawny arms, and leaned against the counter as his assembled guests either ate or set themselves to work on his best friend's luggage.

[color=ed1c24]"Now I just won't expect my skepticism to ever be shaken. Or a thank you. So with all that said,"[/color]

He managed to smirk again.

[color=ed1c24]"I don't really care what kinda mess you make of his stuff, but make sure you leave mine alone. Might get kicked out sooner than we think. I'd hate repacking."[/color]