[Subtle is as subtle does. It's impossible to tell if Jack has managed to pick up on the hint and is deliberately being ridiculous (it might have been too subtle, though), or has lost the thread completely and is simply responding in kind (likely).
It doesn't seem to put him off any, either way; his smile simply curves a little when he looks up again and meets McGillis' expression. He did ask for a tale, and a tale he got. In this moment, he's easily satisfied.]
... A book of lovely pictures, for us. Kind stories. Very well. I promised, and so... [he doesn't, in fact, rise from his position; merely folds his arms across his midsection, settling in and closing his eyes and there is such a long pause that it may seem as though his drinking has sent him to sleep again -- but] Once upon a time? I wonder. Once upon a time, there was a boy who lived in a faraway land.
His father was an important man, who lived near the capital. A beautiful capital that he never saw... for he was not an important son. He lived an ordinary life for a while... [somehow, he pauses here to laugh, a little breathlessly] But the family was important, in some way. A role for him to play, however small.
The Vessaliuses, you see, work for Pandora. An organization of hope, in the face of the Abyss of despair.
[He should really be more coherent, this is a lot more like word salad stream-of-consciousness than a story ought strictly to be. But much like everything else, Jack manages to tumble out of that mold, too.]
For the good of the people, in some ways. For the good of the house, in other ways. The boy saw so many things... wondrous things, terrible things, humanity and the power of wishes. Ah, and the capital, too. Sablier... It really has been so long.
[He trails off; does the story have an ending? Perhaps the fact that it has a beginning is all that can be asked for...]
no subject
[Subtle is as subtle does. It's impossible to tell if Jack has managed to pick up on the hint and is deliberately being ridiculous (it might have been too subtle, though), or has lost the thread completely and is simply responding in kind (likely).
It doesn't seem to put him off any, either way; his smile simply curves a little when he looks up again and meets McGillis' expression. He did ask for a tale, and a tale he got. In this moment, he's easily satisfied.]
... A book of lovely pictures, for us. Kind stories. Very well. I promised, and so... [he doesn't, in fact, rise from his position; merely folds his arms across his midsection, settling in and closing his eyes and there is such a long pause that it may seem as though his drinking has sent him to sleep again -- but] Once upon a time? I wonder. Once upon a time, there was a boy who lived in a faraway land.
His father was an important man, who lived near the capital. A beautiful capital that he never saw... for he was not an important son. He lived an ordinary life for a while... [somehow, he pauses here to laugh, a little breathlessly] But the family was important, in some way. A role for him to play, however small.
The Vessaliuses, you see, work for Pandora. An organization of hope, in the face of the Abyss of despair.
[He should really be more coherent, this is a lot more like word salad stream-of-consciousness than a story ought strictly to be. But much like everything else, Jack manages to tumble out of that mold, too.]
For the good of the people, in some ways. For the good of the house, in other ways. The boy saw so many things... wondrous things, terrible things, humanity and the power of wishes. Ah, and the capital, too. Sablier... It really has been so long.
[He trails off; does the story have an ending? Perhaps the fact that it has a beginning is all that can be asked for...]