[Well, except--it could have, actually. And that's a thought to hold to, at the very least. Gotta be thankful for the little things first, or the rest just gets too overwhelming to deal with.]
[Everything's in more of an aftermath here, now--everything's finally started to calm down a bit, and it couldn't have been sooner. A whole post, open to the whole network, dedicated to the kinds of records even a not-so-technically-inclined Jack couldn't hope to ignore; that had been bad enough, all by itself, and the thought of it still rings up something scrunched-up and seething--a sort of anger that would have been bad enough to call for a relegation to the Poles, any other time (and any other place). But they're on a ship, and there are no Poles to retreat to here, and so the only other option is to keep that particular bit of fury under careful wraps, tucked down....]
[It'd been a close thing. Because to think, that watery bastard would have the nerve--]
[It's pretty damaging stuff, but Jack's been trying to help get things on the mend where he can. For the first few hours that Zelos is in the clinic, Jack is mingled in the resistance, and all the harried discussions going on there, raising his voice where it could be considered (or even heard at all, in some cases...); the guilty bite of not telling anyone about what he'd learned of Zelos's intentions sooner had still been there, of course, but it hadn't been something that Jack regretted even then. And he argues for the guy as well as he's able. Got into a fight with the guy, didn't he? Came back with the hits to prove it, didn't he? There's this thing called a reverse mole, people liked to use those a lot during wars... He wouldn't have been so arrogant to say that he had any particular strong standing in the resistance, but well. There were other people that did, like the Doctor--and now the judgment was pending.]
[But he'd done his best, and in the end, that's all that probably matters.]
[Not that the wait is any easier to deal with, though--and really, Jack isn't even particularly surprised at himself, when he slips into the clinic later in the day of his own volition. Whether he's supposed to be here or not--probably not--but he's more than used to sneaking into places he's not supposed to, and it's even easier on this ship, filled with people that see him and (invariably) more people that don't.]
[The eyes he does run across don't follow him as he goes, and getting to Zelos's general quarters is probably more easy than it has any right to be.]
[The bed's vacant, when he gets there, but the small washroom-esque area with the counter is occupied. Jack pauses at this doorway, at the very least--one thing to sneak into places unallowed, but another thing to actively infringe on a specific person's privacy, at least initially. So he leans a bit on the frame, staff planted on the floor beside him with the crook tilted against the side of his head, and just frowns at the guy further in the room. Most of the blood washed off, at least, but still...geez...]
...Well, you came back, at least.
[It's a wry remark, at length, if not without a slightly tired edge; he looks tired too.]
[Because really, talk about a long day for everyone.]
no subject
[Well, except--it could have, actually. And that's a thought to hold to, at the very least. Gotta be thankful for the little things first, or the rest just gets too overwhelming to deal with.]
[Everything's in more of an aftermath here, now--everything's finally started to calm down a bit, and it couldn't have been sooner. A whole post, open to the whole network, dedicated to the kinds of records even a not-so-technically-inclined Jack couldn't hope to ignore; that had been bad enough, all by itself, and the thought of it still rings up something scrunched-up and seething--a sort of anger that would have been bad enough to call for a relegation to the Poles, any other time (and any other place). But they're on a ship, and there are no Poles to retreat to here, and so the only other option is to keep that particular bit of fury under careful wraps, tucked down....]
[It'd been a close thing. Because to think, that watery bastard would have the nerve--]
[It's pretty damaging stuff, but Jack's been trying to help get things on the mend where he can. For the first few hours that Zelos is in the clinic, Jack is mingled in the resistance, and all the harried discussions going on there, raising his voice where it could be considered (or even heard at all, in some cases...); the guilty bite of not telling anyone about what he'd learned of Zelos's intentions sooner had still been there, of course, but it hadn't been something that Jack regretted even then. And he argues for the guy as well as he's able. Got into a fight with the guy, didn't he? Came back with the hits to prove it, didn't he? There's this thing called a reverse mole, people liked to use those a lot during wars... He wouldn't have been so arrogant to say that he had any particular strong standing in the resistance, but well. There were other people that did, like the Doctor--and now the judgment was pending.]
[But he'd done his best, and in the end, that's all that probably matters.]
[Not that the wait is any easier to deal with, though--and really, Jack isn't even particularly surprised at himself, when he slips into the clinic later in the day of his own volition. Whether he's supposed to be here or not--probably not--but he's more than used to sneaking into places he's not supposed to, and it's even easier on this ship, filled with people that see him and (invariably) more people that don't.]
[The eyes he does run across don't follow him as he goes, and getting to Zelos's general quarters is probably more easy than it has any right to be.]
[The bed's vacant, when he gets there, but the small washroom-esque area with the counter is occupied. Jack pauses at this doorway, at the very least--one thing to sneak into places unallowed, but another thing to actively infringe on a specific person's privacy, at least initially. So he leans a bit on the frame, staff planted on the floor beside him with the crook tilted against the side of his head, and just frowns at the guy further in the room. Most of the blood washed off, at least, but still...geez...]
...Well, you came back, at least.
[It's a wry remark, at length, if not without a slightly tired edge; he looks tired too.]
[Because really, talk about a long day for everyone.]