04-07-2014, 07:51 PM
Jensen cringed with Connor's curse. He understood the man's frustration, and guilt welled up within him to know there was nothing more he could offer. He'd said all he knew to say. Thankfully, Aria replied in his stead.
Jensen was as rapt a listener as Connor, but describing their world as a gift made him look away. To go from thinking himself cursed to blessed in the matter of days split his logic in two. One individual, or glancing at Giovanni, perhaps two, and with Tony, three, could be turned into something that made sense, but the Sickness was an epidemic around the world. Thousands or more were stricken these past few years. All from the same thing. All the same as Jensen and Giovanni and Tony and Jon. The sum of all these people were not warriors for an army of light, they were random people standing atop the bodies of those that didn't make it. Like Connor's son.
This fracture in his logic seemed hairline, but he couldn't simply ignore it. Although seemingly inconsequential an epiphany, meaninglessness and randomness implied chaos in the absence of a creator, no divine plan, no future.
But the angel? That had been real, as real as they were gathered in the room together.
Elbows digging on the counter, he put his face in his hands and swallowed the darkness afforded by his palms. He wanted to shut them all out, and go back to the way things were. Instead, his throat drank a deep, hot breath and he rubbed his eyes.
Aria's final piece of advice skimmed the surface of his consciousness. "It's because we can do things isn't it?"
Jensen asked quietly. He looked to Giovanni for confirmation. "I can barely control what it is I do. In the hands of the wrong person, they could wreck havoc on civilization as we know it."
He covered his mouth with a palm, seemingly in disbelief. It made sense in a terrible sort of way. Policing regular people was a daunting enough task. Policing someone who can churn a hurricane with their mind would be impossible. "So who are you that you know more about us than we do ourselves?"
Jensen was sure he didn't want to know the answer, but he was going to make himself listen one way or another.
Jensen was as rapt a listener as Connor, but describing their world as a gift made him look away. To go from thinking himself cursed to blessed in the matter of days split his logic in two. One individual, or glancing at Giovanni, perhaps two, and with Tony, three, could be turned into something that made sense, but the Sickness was an epidemic around the world. Thousands or more were stricken these past few years. All from the same thing. All the same as Jensen and Giovanni and Tony and Jon. The sum of all these people were not warriors for an army of light, they were random people standing atop the bodies of those that didn't make it. Like Connor's son.
This fracture in his logic seemed hairline, but he couldn't simply ignore it. Although seemingly inconsequential an epiphany, meaninglessness and randomness implied chaos in the absence of a creator, no divine plan, no future.
But the angel? That had been real, as real as they were gathered in the room together.
Elbows digging on the counter, he put his face in his hands and swallowed the darkness afforded by his palms. He wanted to shut them all out, and go back to the way things were. Instead, his throat drank a deep, hot breath and he rubbed his eyes.
Aria's final piece of advice skimmed the surface of his consciousness. "It's because we can do things isn't it?"
Jensen asked quietly. He looked to Giovanni for confirmation. "I can barely control what it is I do. In the hands of the wrong person, they could wreck havoc on civilization as we know it."
He covered his mouth with a palm, seemingly in disbelief. It made sense in a terrible sort of way. Policing regular people was a daunting enough task. Policing someone who can churn a hurricane with their mind would be impossible. "So who are you that you know more about us than we do ourselves?"
Jensen was sure he didn't want to know the answer, but he was going to make himself listen one way or another.