(no subject)
Jack wanders into the bar with as close as he ever comes to a scowl on his face. His clothing is ripped, the top half of his kimono turned to ribbons. His hair is down and he appears beaten up, not to mention several long, nasty slices across his chest and back that are quite fresh. He hardly takes notice of his surroundings as he makes his way to a booth, asks a passing wait-rat for some bandages, and places his sword, in its sheath, on the table.
Holding his head in his hands, Jack resists the urge to bang his fists on the table, throw his head back, and just scream out of frustration. Another portal, lost. Another chance to return home, gone. And Aku has won. Again. Jack has earned nothing from the long journey he took, except for several wounds and the chance to destroy a small army of robotic beetles.
As the bandages are brought, along with some warm tea, Jack sighs, hangs his head in shame, and begins to bandage his wounds.
Holding his head in his hands, Jack resists the urge to bang his fists on the table, throw his head back, and just scream out of frustration. Another portal, lost. Another chance to return home, gone. And Aku has won. Again. Jack has earned nothing from the long journey he took, except for several wounds and the chance to destroy a small army of robotic beetles.
As the bandages are brought, along with some warm tea, Jack sighs, hangs his head in shame, and begins to bandage his wounds.