The truth is, Jin can't see that far into his own future. All he's aware of is that he's twenty-three, in reality-- or should be in this reality-- and yet, five years is nearly an eternity in his eyes when all he's got to go off are vague feelings. That and Asher's word.
Do the Shaolin accept him? Does he ever, god forbid, actually get his shit together in those five years? According to Asher's estimation, he will, but how? Why? All he knows of himself is that he's little more than a kid. Scrappy, lashing out-- but still a kid. Seeing past this moment is nearly impossible.
And yet... This is the second time in this short conversation that Asher's offered him hope, no matter how slim.
Maybe he's right. Maybe it will, somehow, get better.
Jin sighs, pushes the dark hood of his Audentes uniform back, and sits up, allowing the Magitek to broadcast a video to Asher. He can't open himself up completely, cannot tell him every detail he wishes he didn't have to bear alone, but he can at least show the man his face.
Everything about him seems a little smaller than he was when he and Asher had just met. His face is thinner, scratched a little from the fights he'd picked earlier in the day; his hair's cut short, jagged and messy as if he'd hacked it all off himself; his dark eyes have deep, tired circles beneath them. His slouched shoulders seem to pull Jin further into himself, shut away from the world.
Except, in this moment, Asher Millstone.]
I hope you're right.
[Hope. That's a new one. He almost, almost, manages a thin smile, but he can't muster much more than a slight turn of his lips.]
Don't ask me about this when I'm older. Please. I'll tell you when I'm ready.
video, i hope ur happy
The truth is, Jin can't see that far into his own future. All he's aware of is that he's twenty-three, in reality-- or should be in this reality-- and yet, five years is nearly an eternity in his eyes when all he's got to go off are vague feelings. That and Asher's word.
Do the Shaolin accept him? Does he ever, god forbid, actually get his shit together in those five years? According to Asher's estimation, he will, but how? Why? All he knows of himself is that he's little more than a kid. Scrappy, lashing out-- but still a kid. Seeing past this moment is nearly impossible.
And yet... This is the second time in this short conversation that Asher's offered him hope, no matter how slim.
Maybe he's right. Maybe it will, somehow, get better.
Jin sighs, pushes the dark hood of his Audentes uniform back, and sits up, allowing the Magitek to broadcast a video to Asher. He can't open himself up completely, cannot tell him every detail he wishes he didn't have to bear alone, but he can at least show the man his face.
Everything about him seems a little smaller than he was when he and Asher had just met. His face is thinner, scratched a little from the fights he'd picked earlier in the day; his hair's cut short, jagged and messy as if he'd hacked it all off himself; his dark eyes have deep, tired circles beneath them. His slouched shoulders seem to pull Jin further into himself, shut away from the world.
Except, in this moment, Asher Millstone.]
I hope you're right.
[Hope. That's a new one. He almost, almost, manages a thin smile, but he can't muster much more than a slight turn of his lips.]
Don't ask me about this when I'm older. Please. I'll tell you when I'm ready.