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ii. | [video]
[with all the fighting, the chaos, and the numerous opportunities therein, chase has been busy - and thus hasn't had the opportunity to make his opinions on the whole affair known. because, clearly, they are the best opinions, and everyone needs to know them.
he's in his suite, looking no worse for wear despite his involvement in fighting off the gangs in the metal sector those days ago. his attention is half on the video and half on the slim journal he's writing in.
he starts with his eyes on the journal after making sure the feed is on.]
It has been an exciting few weeks, hasn't it. My commendations to the local militia and to the temporarily-deputized - the former for their stellar work keeping the peace, the latter for somehow managing to decimate a more numerous foe while simultaneously keeping us all from drowning.
[or so he assumes would have been the case if the turtle lost a flipper. there's a brief, unpleasant smirk that pulls at the corner of his mouth.]
And now that we've all had the chance to be suitably heroic ... what happens next? We've already been stripped of any rank and paid to someone else's standard. I can only wonder if they think we can be called up at will to defend a land that's decidedly against us.
[he flips his brush around and taps the end of it against the page, like he's thinking, before glancing up at the screen with a condescending raise of an eyebrow.]
Then again, I'm sure plenty of you find it all suitably rewarding already. In a ... moral way.
[spoken like morality is some sort of disease. his disdain is evident as he reaches to cut the feed - but he stops, suddenly, remembering something. and because what is technology, he doesn'tknow how to bother to filter the rest.]
Ah, yes ... old monk. [by which he means shifu, since he never got the name.] Now that the fun's over, I suggest we actually see which one of us is the better combatant. Fighting side-by-side is only much to go by.
[and then it's off.]
he's in his suite, looking no worse for wear despite his involvement in fighting off the gangs in the metal sector those days ago. his attention is half on the video and half on the slim journal he's writing in.
he starts with his eyes on the journal after making sure the feed is on.]
It has been an exciting few weeks, hasn't it. My commendations to the local militia and to the temporarily-deputized - the former for their stellar work keeping the peace, the latter for somehow managing to decimate a more numerous foe while simultaneously keeping us all from drowning.
[or so he assumes would have been the case if the turtle lost a flipper. there's a brief, unpleasant smirk that pulls at the corner of his mouth.]
And now that we've all had the chance to be suitably heroic ... what happens next? We've already been stripped of any rank and paid to someone else's standard. I can only wonder if they think we can be called up at will to defend a land that's decidedly against us.
[he flips his brush around and taps the end of it against the page, like he's thinking, before glancing up at the screen with a condescending raise of an eyebrow.]
Then again, I'm sure plenty of you find it all suitably rewarding already. In a ... moral way.
[spoken like morality is some sort of disease. his disdain is evident as he reaches to cut the feed - but he stops, suddenly, remembering something. and because what is technology, he doesn't
Ah, yes ... old monk. [by which he means shifu, since he never got the name.] Now that the fun's over, I suggest we actually see which one of us is the better combatant. Fighting side-by-side is only much to go by.
[and then it's off.]