three cheers for three years
John was a tad bit busy steeping in his internal doldrums, to do anything besides walk. The fact that he'd sent Jade his coordinates and would now be expecting a fucking furry inbound at any given second.
He plodded through the snow, hands thrust deep in the pocket of his hoodie. What were the chances that this group of people- and trolls- all wound up in yet another big fat clusterfuck? John didn't think they were very high, and yet here they were, in the face of yet another insurmountable enemy. The Overseer.
Even though the Game stacked the odds against them, sent them on surprise plot twists turned to outright plot spirals- there always was an element of hope to their situation. Their denizens, their god powers, their sprites. There was always something they could do the help their situations.
The way Terezi had described their current predicament, hope was a little above zero on the usefulness scale. They all had to buckle down and weather whatever fucked up torments came hurtling toward them. How was that fair? They'd paid their dues. Why didn't they get to live in the world they created, where their biggest problems would be taxes and car insurance?
The wind sighed through the trees. He could hear it just fine, but he couldn't sense the ebb and flow anymore. It was kind of like listening to music with earplugs, only detecting the scantest beats. Another piece of evidence that there was indeed a chip in his head, limiting his powers and doing all sorts of tomfoolery to his brain.
