[That particular admittance in the beginning, right there...it is surprisingly blunt, with the entire roundabout nature of the conversation up to now considered, and it earns an odd glance from Jack as Zelos says it.]
[...He's almost tempted enough to remark on it, for a moment, but--he doesn't. And instead he settles a bit more on the rail, for once, fidgeting finally letting off a bit in favor of wry eyebrow-arching as commentary moves to battle wounds instead. The arm-scarring is still moderately concerning...but Jack has a feeling pursuing that point wouldn't really get anywhere either. And so, instead:]
...Your hair, huh? Can't really tell the difference at all, actually. [It's a very mild sort of humor to interject (and surely he ought to get points for trying, at least...) Jack still finds that his heart isn't really into it, though, and after that he's sombering again.]
[He can let all those other matters slide, after all, but this particular one...]
I don't know, I'm not--gonna try telling you what you're supposed to do, no. But something's really gotta give here. You know the longer this goes on, the more people there are probably gonna be in the line of fire, right?
[Jack knows it for a fact, anyway. It's what always happens, when it comes to things like this. (You get enough people to dislike you in a three century lifetime, and you figure out that sort of thing.) Puffing a sigh of his own, he props an elbow on a knee and plants his chin in a palm, frowning again.]
You shouldn't have to always run away. S'not gonna fix anything either...but there must be some way. Killing isn't an option, you're right about that, so-- [posture curls, then unfolds--and Jack's back on his feet again, leaning back on his heels and then starting a slow tread down the rest of the length of the rail] --we'll just have to think of something.
[At the hair remark, it's notably lifeless compared to other joking, but Zelos still grants it an offended expression for a brief moment.
But then everything turning back into such a dark tone, and he has to abandon the goofy faces.]
Yeah, I know, all right.
[That the longer it goes on the more people get in the line of fire. He's known that since he was a kid. ...But that bitter thought aside, he holds back a sigh and watches Jack fidget around again and start walking. He turns a bit himself, matching the guy's steps on the rails with his own on the ground of the floor (like a normal person gosh).]
Now you're just sounding like Lloyd. [Which isn't a bad thing, but he only wishes he could think along those lines for long enough to come up with any ideas... All he can think is there's no way anything's going to change unless he dies and they get bored of it. He stops walking and turns to cross his arms over the rail Jack was so slowly treading along to stop him in his tracks, staring up at him.]
It was easier to deal with this sort of thing when I had my title, my money, my reputation... [People were easy to change with the control he had over the world, usually. But here? Different story.] Maybe I should just let her do it.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[...He's almost tempted enough to remark on it, for a moment, but--he doesn't. And instead he settles a bit more on the rail, for once, fidgeting finally letting off a bit in favor of wry eyebrow-arching as commentary moves to battle wounds instead. The arm-scarring is still moderately concerning...but Jack has a feeling pursuing that point wouldn't really get anywhere either. And so, instead:]
...Your hair, huh? Can't really tell the difference at all, actually. [It's a very mild sort of humor to interject (and surely he ought to get points for trying, at least...) Jack still finds that his heart isn't really into it, though, and after that he's sombering again.]
[He can let all those other matters slide, after all, but this particular one...]
I don't know, I'm not--gonna try telling you what you're supposed to do, no. But something's really gotta give here. You know the longer this goes on, the more people there are probably gonna be in the line of fire, right?
[Jack knows it for a fact, anyway. It's what always happens, when it comes to things like this. (You get enough people to dislike you in a three century lifetime, and you figure out that sort of thing.) Puffing a sigh of his own, he props an elbow on a knee and plants his chin in a palm, frowning again.]
You shouldn't have to always run away. S'not gonna fix anything either...but there must be some way. Killing isn't an option, you're right about that, so-- [posture curls, then unfolds--and Jack's back on his feet again, leaning back on his heels and then starting a slow tread down the rest of the length of the rail] --we'll just have to think of something.
no subject
But then everything turning back into such a dark tone, and he has to abandon the goofy faces.]
Yeah, I know, all right.
[That the longer it goes on the more people get in the line of fire. He's known that since he was a kid. ...But that bitter thought aside, he holds back a sigh and watches Jack fidget around again and start walking. He turns a bit himself, matching the guy's steps on the rails with his own on the ground of the floor (like a normal person gosh).]
Now you're just sounding like Lloyd. [Which isn't a bad thing, but he only wishes he could think along those lines for long enough to come up with any ideas... All he can think is there's no way anything's going to change unless he dies and they get bored of it. He stops walking and turns to cross his arms over the rail Jack was so slowly treading along to stop him in his tracks, staring up at him.]
It was easier to deal with this sort of thing when I had my title, my money, my reputation... [People were easy to change with the control he had over the world, usually. But here? Different story.] Maybe I should just let her do it.
[He's... mostly joking...]