Thud thud thud THWACK
Jolan punched the sandbag over and over till his knuckles had split open, then over and over again until the bag was dyed red. It felt good to get this rage out of him, this anger that he felt threatened to overtake him like it had the other councilors. The negotiations had gone sluggish, the Vosch penchant for expressing emotions as they're felt leading to many fistfights in the middle of the discussion amongst the Chorus. Tempers were boiling, emotions were high and the tension each day the negotiations continued could be cut with a knife.
Thud thud thud THWACK
Never before in their peoples history had anyone WANTED to leave the Fleet in such large numbers. Sure, the occasional family would depart or a child would not return from a pilgrimage...but a whole 1/5th of the Fleet wanting to tear away and start their own Fleet? It was like someone had stabbed a knife into the heart of the Vosch, families and whole clans of people torn apart. The smell of inner war was on the tip of every tongue, and it seemed that the only thing containing the fire were these talks. Like they were actually accomplishing anything.
Thud thud thud THWACK
And over Christmas no less! A wonderful holiday, one had was trying to spend with his sister...then the goddamned Fleet decided to get a hair up their air hose and cause this mess. Would she be able to forgive him for not attending, hell what would the rest of the crew think? It's hard to spend bonding time with a crew when your constantly being pulled away...but the Fleet was his home and he needed to take care of it. At the same time, this kind of fighting was NOT what home was supposed to be about, and the cold looks and sneers at laving his ship from the other Councilors had given Jolan enough anger to knock out more than a few teeth.
Thud thud thud THWACK
If he wasn't at home in the Embery Riddle, and he wasn't at home amongst the Fleet...where was home?
Thud thud thud THWACK
Jolan punched the sandbag over and over till his knuckles had split open, then over and over again until the bag was dyed red. It felt good to get this rage out of him, this anger that he felt threatened to overtake him like it had the other councilors. The negotiations had gone sluggish, the Vosch penchant for expressing emotions as they're felt leading to many fistfights in the middle of the discussion amongst the Chorus. Tempers were boiling, emotions were high and the tension each day the negotiations continued could be cut with a knife.
Thud thud thud THWACK
Never before in their peoples history had anyone WANTED to leave the Fleet in such large numbers. Sure, the occasional family would depart or a child would not return from a pilgrimage...but a whole 1/5th of the Fleet wanting to tear away and start their own Fleet? It was like someone had stabbed a knife into the heart of the Vosch, families and whole clans of people torn apart. The smell of inner war was on the tip of every tongue, and it seemed that the only thing containing the fire were these talks. Like they were actually accomplishing anything.
Thud thud thud THWACK
And over Christmas no less! A wonderful holiday, one had was trying to spend with his sister...then the goddamned Fleet decided to get a hair up their air hose and cause this mess. Would she be able to forgive him for not attending, hell what would the rest of the crew think? It's hard to spend bonding time with a crew when your constantly being pulled away...but the Fleet was his home and he needed to take care of it. At the same time, this kind of fighting was NOT what home was supposed to be about, and the cold looks and sneers at laving his ship from the other Councilors had given Jolan enough anger to knock out more than a few teeth.
Thud thud thud THWACK
If he wasn't at home in the Embery Riddle, and he wasn't at home amongst the Fleet...where was home?
Thud thud thud THWACK
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