01-09-2014, 04:00 AM
Jon had anticipated any of a number of reactions from Jessika upon revealing to her the existence of a strange power and at the same time providing evidence to support Jensen's contention that the Apocalypse was nigh and perhaps the so-called antichrist already walked the earth. It had never occured to him that she would express excitement. Had her sanity been misrouted on a different transatlantic flight? Who was happy to hear the world was spinning toward its cataclysmic death?
As Jon witnessed the exchange between Jensen and his wife -- no, his widow, at least in the legal sense, strange enough as it were -- he began to understand the source of her enthusiasm. It came from zealous devotion to a belief in a literal interperetation of the Bible coupled with a futurist view of Revelation. She'd been preparing for this eventuality all her life. To her, it meant her savior was coming, and the end of the world meant her personal, eternal salvation because she kept the faith. Jon wasn't quite sure what to make of that. He certainly wished her well, but doubted it would be so easy as believing a two thousand year old text transcribed countless times by illiterate monks could be taken word for word.
There was one thing that Jon couldn't help but raise an eyebrow upon hearing. What was that about an angel in Jensen's dream? Suspiscion flickered through his mind and caressed his consciousness like the icy breath of a mountain breeze in the moments before the first snowflakes turned to a blizzard. Clearly Jessika -- and Jensen too, as he must have told her of it -- must have believed this thing he'd seen in his dream was of divine origin. And truthfully, with all Jon had learned in the last few years, last few minutes even, he would be a fool to claim it wasn't possible.
Only, Jon knew all too well that other things were indeed possible in the dream.
He made polite obesience to Jessika as she took her leave, allowing that he would help Jensen. There really wasn't much to say to the contrary. Truthfully, when the battle lines were drawn they would likely come down on the same side without any further action required, especially if the two of them were to believe that Nikolai Brandon and the evergrowing CCD were indeed the great destroyer and his army of darkness. Jon didn't know if he really believed all of that; he just didn't like them much and that was enough motivation for him.
Once they were alone, he chuckled at Jensen's suggestion they find somewhere else to go. "I fear I know little of apocalyptic protocol, but if we're going to see the end of the world, we could not have asked for better seating. At least knowing we will win makes things easier."
So many things he left unsaid, so many spoken assumptions potentially untrue. What side was Jon really on -- if he was indeed on any side? How much faith should one put in ancient prophecy or a religious fortelling? What, indeed, was even the purpose of prophecy -- to guide, to state what might come to pass, or was it indeed a declaration of a predestined future? Oddly enough, that last thought scared him the most even though it guaranteed a better world to come. It stifled him like an iron lung gripping his chest, the thought he was just some puppet on strings pulled by cosmic hands to dance to a script already written.
Jon opened his mouth again to warn Jensen against putting too much faith in his dreams, but hesitated. The man's consciousness seemed such a fragile thing to Jon at the moment, with all that he had gone through. His faith in his God was seemingly all he had left. He was awash in a storm, floating among the wreckage of the ship that was his old life, and clinging to debris from the hull. Never mind that it was soaked in leaked gasoline and there were flames among the other wreckage. It was what Jensen had at the moment, and were Jon to cast doubt into Jensen's mind and stomp on this man's belief an angel had sent him a message, it might send him into despair.
But to not tell him might lead him into great danger. Especially if his dreams were being manipulated by someone with nefarious plans.
Noah. He was the only one Jon was aware of who could have faked an angel in Jensen's dream. And he would have done it as well, if he was convinced for his own reasons it was necessary. And if he wasn't, he might know how to find out who did. He drew a deep sigh. Noah Crow's Eye was perhaps the last man he wanted to seek out. "Actually, there is some place I can go that might be even more useful than remaining here,"
he finally said. "There is someone I can ask about what may come to pass, if he will tell me. But I cannot do so from here. It is a thing of my peoples, and I require sleep to speak with him."
There. Let Jensen think Jon was searching for spirit visions in his sleep. It was better than nothing, however unpleasant the experience would be for Jon, who, rather than shatter the illuions of a spiritual man, was about to seek out the one man he swore he would avoid at all costs -- the one man who undoubtedly possessed the ability to outfox Jon with ease anytime he wished. You can't make this stuff up.
Edited by Jon Little Bird, Jan 9 2014, 12:14 PM.
As Jon witnessed the exchange between Jensen and his wife -- no, his widow, at least in the legal sense, strange enough as it were -- he began to understand the source of her enthusiasm. It came from zealous devotion to a belief in a literal interperetation of the Bible coupled with a futurist view of Revelation. She'd been preparing for this eventuality all her life. To her, it meant her savior was coming, and the end of the world meant her personal, eternal salvation because she kept the faith. Jon wasn't quite sure what to make of that. He certainly wished her well, but doubted it would be so easy as believing a two thousand year old text transcribed countless times by illiterate monks could be taken word for word.
There was one thing that Jon couldn't help but raise an eyebrow upon hearing. What was that about an angel in Jensen's dream? Suspiscion flickered through his mind and caressed his consciousness like the icy breath of a mountain breeze in the moments before the first snowflakes turned to a blizzard. Clearly Jessika -- and Jensen too, as he must have told her of it -- must have believed this thing he'd seen in his dream was of divine origin. And truthfully, with all Jon had learned in the last few years, last few minutes even, he would be a fool to claim it wasn't possible.
Only, Jon knew all too well that other things were indeed possible in the dream.
He made polite obesience to Jessika as she took her leave, allowing that he would help Jensen. There really wasn't much to say to the contrary. Truthfully, when the battle lines were drawn they would likely come down on the same side without any further action required, especially if the two of them were to believe that Nikolai Brandon and the evergrowing CCD were indeed the great destroyer and his army of darkness. Jon didn't know if he really believed all of that; he just didn't like them much and that was enough motivation for him.
Once they were alone, he chuckled at Jensen's suggestion they find somewhere else to go. "I fear I know little of apocalyptic protocol, but if we're going to see the end of the world, we could not have asked for better seating. At least knowing we will win makes things easier."
So many things he left unsaid, so many spoken assumptions potentially untrue. What side was Jon really on -- if he was indeed on any side? How much faith should one put in ancient prophecy or a religious fortelling? What, indeed, was even the purpose of prophecy -- to guide, to state what might come to pass, or was it indeed a declaration of a predestined future? Oddly enough, that last thought scared him the most even though it guaranteed a better world to come. It stifled him like an iron lung gripping his chest, the thought he was just some puppet on strings pulled by cosmic hands to dance to a script already written.
Jon opened his mouth again to warn Jensen against putting too much faith in his dreams, but hesitated. The man's consciousness seemed such a fragile thing to Jon at the moment, with all that he had gone through. His faith in his God was seemingly all he had left. He was awash in a storm, floating among the wreckage of the ship that was his old life, and clinging to debris from the hull. Never mind that it was soaked in leaked gasoline and there were flames among the other wreckage. It was what Jensen had at the moment, and were Jon to cast doubt into Jensen's mind and stomp on this man's belief an angel had sent him a message, it might send him into despair.
But to not tell him might lead him into great danger. Especially if his dreams were being manipulated by someone with nefarious plans.
Noah. He was the only one Jon was aware of who could have faked an angel in Jensen's dream. And he would have done it as well, if he was convinced for his own reasons it was necessary. And if he wasn't, he might know how to find out who did. He drew a deep sigh. Noah Crow's Eye was perhaps the last man he wanted to seek out. "Actually, there is some place I can go that might be even more useful than remaining here,"
he finally said. "There is someone I can ask about what may come to pass, if he will tell me. But I cannot do so from here. It is a thing of my peoples, and I require sleep to speak with him."
There. Let Jensen think Jon was searching for spirit visions in his sleep. It was better than nothing, however unpleasant the experience would be for Jon, who, rather than shatter the illuions of a spiritual man, was about to seek out the one man he swore he would avoid at all costs -- the one man who undoubtedly possessed the ability to outfox Jon with ease anytime he wished. You can't make this stuff up.
Edited by Jon Little Bird, Jan 9 2014, 12:14 PM.