"I understand and that's all I was looking for at this point." Jett was slightly relieved, "I just want to know that I'm not doing something silly, making a fool out of myself, or even embarrassing you." Jett did reach over to pull her close for a hug. "This is all I want, I just want to know you think I'm not bonkers" He laughed. "Do you have any questions about me?" Jett was sitting there and as Cyn could likely see he was COVERED in scars, blade marks, bullet holes, burns, and other scars. He was in great shape and very muscular. (only describing this because I failed to when she came in the room)
Cyn smiled at him gently. "You're not. You're fine, okay?" She hugged him back gently, blushing a little since he had no shirt on. When he gave the question, she pulled back a little and looked him over. "Yeah. I do. What's all this?" She gestured to his body. "How in the world have you survived all this?"
"Well that's a long story and a short one all in the same..." Jett was hesitant, "I had been meaning to tell you some things, but I wanted to trust you first, and I do... It's just not an easy story." Jett stood up, he was wearing only boxer briefs, black. "I will tell you the story, but it will take some time. Do you mind enduring that?"
Cyn blushed as he stood up and was only wearing boxer briefs. She looked away. "Only if you put some pants on. Deal?" She wondered though, what he wanted to tell her. It was obviously something important. So she was willing to listen.
"I'll put on pants." Jett said. "Well..." Jett hesitated.
"Well it's fairly simple. I'm a product of an evil private military... The Movement."
Jett felt his stomach turn talking about them.
"The Movement was once a private military with the sole purpose of crushing evil. I was a part of this military and in my time with The Movement, that is what I did as well. I was a runaway and this group took me in and used my skills to serve justice to the evil of this world."
Jett's brow tightening it was obvious he was thinking very hard.
"The movement was my haven, from my father, from my life as a poor farmer, from being nothing. I was doing good things in the world, I was someone! I felt good about what I was doing... I was like that for 15 years, closing in on a small fortune from my work and having done so much good, I felt my time on the battlefield was over, I was still able bodied, but I'd seen too many of my friends die, become mangled, and too many victims suffer... it's a lot for someone to see... I'm glad I almost made it out with my mind intact... keyword almost..."
Jett would take a deep sigh as he remembered the men he'd served with, and the people he saved, and yet all of the people he couldn't save... it was obvious that Jett was still working through some of these things...
"...I had decided to retire, take my money and take care of my father and farm... it was maybe more boring, but safer and better for my mind... I turned in my equipment, my ranks, and my resignation. I told my Sargent goodbye... and walked home... it was a 40 mile trek from where I was... I was happy to take it, I slept on the side of the road for a few nights, just breathing feeling better about what I'd done and what I could now do freely..."
Jett punched the wall... hard... closing his eyes, he felt his heart race as if he was reliving it...
"Then... I walked up to my hometown's biggest hill, the hill that led you into the valley where I was born... I saw smoke from the bottom of the hill and ran as fast as I could dropping my pack... when I got to the top of the hill I saw the remains of my hometown... and it wasn't much. Someone had come in and burnt the town to crisp and left it smoldering... I didn't know what to do... I lost it... I ran full blast for my father's house, hoping he'd escaped... Running as fast as I could I passed by charred remains of childhood friends, neighbors, and even my dog... I ran faster and faster... when I reached my father's house... it looked like it'd gotten it the worst... I kicked in one of the walls because the door was missing and the entry was still on fire... I found my father... or what remained of him... he was still breathing... barely... he was gripping something in his charred hand... dog tags... mine... and another set... he looked up to me, unable to speak and reached out for me... he died within minutes of my arrival... I couldn't do anything... I had no idea who'd done this... I tore open my father's dead, charred, melted hand... I found my dog tags and next to them were the dog tags of my former Sargent... I felt... dead... just dead inside..."
Jett had more to say, but he had to finish living it first...
"Well it's fairly simple. I'm a product of an evil private military... The Movement."
Jett felt his stomach turn talking about them.
"The Movement was once a private military with the sole purpose of crushing evil. I was a part of this military and in my time with The Movement, that is what I did as well. I was a runaway and this group took me in and used my skills to serve justice to the evil of this world."
Jett's brow tightening it was obvious he was thinking very hard.
"The movement was my haven, from my father, from my life as a poor farmer, from being nothing. I was doing good things in the world, I was someone! I felt good about what I was doing... I was like that for 15 years, closing in on a small fortune from my work and having done so much good, I felt my time on the battlefield was over, I was still able bodied, but I'd seen too many of my friends die, become mangled, and too many victims suffer... it's a lot for someone to see... I'm glad I almost made it out with my mind intact... keyword almost..."
Jett would take a deep sigh as he remembered the men he'd served with, and the people he saved, and yet all of the people he couldn't save... it was obvious that Jett was still working through some of these things...
"...I had decided to retire, take my money and take care of my father and farm... it was maybe more boring, but safer and better for my mind... I turned in my equipment, my ranks, and my resignation. I told my Sargent goodbye... and walked home... it was a 40 mile trek from where I was... I was happy to take it, I slept on the side of the road for a few nights, just breathing feeling better about what I'd done and what I could now do freely..."
Jett punched the wall... hard... closing his eyes, he felt his heart race as if he was reliving it...
"Then... I walked up to my hometown's biggest hill, the hill that led you into the valley where I was born... I saw smoke from the bottom of the hill and ran as fast as I could dropping my pack... when I got to the top of the hill I saw the remains of my hometown... and it wasn't much. Someone had come in and burnt the town to crisp and left it smoldering... I didn't know what to do... I lost it... I ran full blast for my father's house, hoping he'd escaped... Running as fast as I could I passed by charred remains of childhood friends, neighbors, and even my dog... I ran faster and faster... when I reached my father's house... it looked like it'd gotten it the worst... I kicked in one of the walls because the door was missing and the entry was still on fire... I found my father... or what remained of him... he was still breathing... barely... he was gripping something in his charred hand... dog tags... mine... and another set... he looked up to me, unable to speak and reached out for me... he died within minutes of my arrival... I couldn't do anything... I had no idea who'd done this... I tore open my father's dead, charred, melted hand... I found my dog tags and next to them were the dog tags of my former Sargent... I felt... dead... just dead inside..."
Jett had more to say, but he had to finish living it first...
Cyn listened carefully. She felt bad for him. She stood up and walked over, putting her hand on his shoulder. She just listened to him, and rubbed his shoulder gently to help him. He was obviously having a tough time with this. She didn't know what to say, so she just stood there and rubbed his shoulder until he was ready to continue.
"I stood up, and ran... I ran as fast as I could and where was I going? I was going back to the base... to pay a little visit to my old Sargent. I ran the entire 40 miles back to my old base, nearly collapsing in front of the entrance guard. I asked him to let me in, and he drew down on me, without much worry of consequence I took his gun and bashed him over the head with it. I didn't kill him, but I didn't care... I knew that more than one person killed my father and left my hometown to rubble. I was going to kill everyone who got in my way... I got to his quarters and rummaged through the place looking for him, I wasn't quiet about it either. I walked outside his home after destroying the inside of it for the last 20 minutes or so, and found him standing across the street from me... with 100 men in between us, drawn down, ready to kill... I didn't care, I'm going to get him... that's all I was thinking... I ran as fast as I could to him and tossed any man who tried to stop me, into another zip code... I got right up to him, RIGHT THERE!" Jett yelled in anger and then realized he was telling a story... not living it... "He looked me in the face, and told me... Thanks... I wanted to redecorate anyway..." Jett then sighed....
"Someone knocked me out, and I awoke in a lab... in a tube... underwater... and immediately destroyed the glass, knocked a guard out, stole any valuable data from the nearest computer and ran... and that's what I've been doing since..."
"Someone knocked me out, and I awoke in a lab... in a tube... underwater... and immediately destroyed the glass, knocked a guard out, stole any valuable data from the nearest computer and ran... and that's what I've been doing since..."
Cynthia listened to him very carefully. "...I see. I'm sorry, Jett. That must be....so hard. So you were used in an experiment...and what did it do to you?" She took his hand and walked him back to the bed, sitting down there with him. She rubbed his shoulder gently and tried to help him relax. She didn't know what to say really. SHe was just there to listen.
"Well, I probably easier to show you..." Jett would have her sit on the bed..."Okay, let me know if I scare you..." Jett would stand there for a moment... "ahhhhhh" Jett was concentrating and breathing. He began to glow a green color... and he would also be shaking the ground a little bit. He would do this only for second. Stop and rest. "Watch what I can do." He would rip the bandages from his foot and ankle. Revealing... no damage, he pulled out the stitching with easy and there was no cut. "I have the ability to heal myself... among other things..." Jett was now standing there looking more cut than before... waiting for her to respond.
Cynthia nodded. "Alright." She looked at him, staring as he glowed, and the ground shook a little. When he pulled off the bandages, she stared. "That's....amazing. How do you do that? You just focus and it goes away? How did you get all those scars then?" She looked at him. "Other things? What else do you do?"
"Well... I have an idea." Jett would look up through the skylight in his bedroom. "See the skylight?" He would look back to Cyn.
Cynthia nodded, looking up. "Yes. What about it?" She smiled a little and watched him carefully.
"Come over here." Jett would grab her by the waist and concentrate. He would then lift from the ground and take her into the sky. He would move the window to the side and fly into the sky. "This is something I can do without concentrating too terribly hard." He would look to Cyn to see what she thought of the moon from his arms.
Cynthia blinked. "What? Why?" She blinked as suddenly they were...in the sky! She cried out and grabbed onto him, holding him tightly. "W...wow. This is amazing...! Jett, this is so amazing..!"
"I thought so, but it's not exactly low profile, so I don't do it very often, but I trust you a lot to show you or tell you any of this." he would soar into the sky until he was up above the clouds with her in front of the moon. "Wanna know something great?" Jett would turn her to the moon. "No one gets to see this view, but me and you." Jett would smile and hold her close to keep her warm. "What do you think?"
Cynthia smiled, blushing. She held tightly to him. "...I think it's amazing. I've never seen something so beautiful. Thank you for showing me this, Jett. And thank you for trusting me."
"It looks bigger doesn't it?" Jett looked to the moon, "but it's always there... we take for granted the things that are always there..." Jett thought of his father. "My father loved the moon, he taught me that."
Cynthia nodded. "You're right. That's so true. We take it for granted so much." She smiled at him. "He taught you well, Jett. I'm sure he's proud of you." She chuckled a little bit. "I trust you...but being in the air like this is making me a bit nervous. Think we can go back down? Unlike you, I don't heal fast."
"Ha, well okay." he decended lightly back through the skylight and laid her down on the bed. "Best part, there is a lot more... i'll show you later if you like... just know, I'm not a self-imposed hero... I've done super-hero like things with my life..." Jett waved his finger at her. "I wanted to show you earlier when you looked at my leg, but I wasn't sure what you thought of me... if you'd be afraid." Jett thought for a moment. "Are you afraid?"
Cynthia smiled as she was brought back down and laid on the bed. "I understand. Don't worry. I know you're not a self-imposed hero now." When he asked her that question, she gave him a look. "Jett...I have blue hair, gray skin and green pupil-less eyes. You think I'm gonna be scared by a bit of healing and flight?
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