[So, guess who's wandering around town half in the bag after finding out that his favorite summoner lost an arm to get back healing magic that can't even regenerate the missing arm in question? THIS GUY. Jecht staggers through town with a six pack of beer in one hand and a bottle of whiskey in the other. He's already done some pregaming, so by
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Aren't you lucky that your student is out keeping an eye on things?]
Coach! W-what are you... stop that before Grady shows up...!
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[Hurls another empty can of beer at the side of the post office.]
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Coach, please! I don't want you getting droned. I've had enough of that this week. Just... just sit down, please.
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"You ain't the boss of me! Who's the damn coach here?!"
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[...Stumbles.]
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[He's trying to gently lead you to a bench across the street. He can't handle anyone else he knows getting droned this week. He just can't.]
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"...Maybe I should sit down."
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Maybe you should. Come on... cant just have you lying there...
[Crowe will at least try to help get him sitting, for now.]
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"...I'm done with this goddamn town, kid. Just... fuckin' done."
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You know how many times I've said the same thing? But we don't have a choice. We're still here.
[He leans forward, propping his chin up on his up on his hand. He's just... so tired. Of everything.]
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