"Wow."

Is what Dirk says, after John has finished his piece. That was a lot of repressed angst, and he hadn't asked for any of it. Just when he'd finally gotten Jane to see things the right way. His way.

And now John's throwing a tantrum. He considers it for a moment. The game John had played to death wasn't his game. Not really. It was just part of clearing the board. The setup stage, doling out the fistfuls of pretend cash before another miserably imbalanced game of Reality Monopoly.

There are a lot of ways he could respond, if he wanted to. 'Maybe if we had more time...' for example. But nah. Not even then. Maybe he is taking it out on John, maybe not. He'd like to think he's past that kind of juvenile projection. Perhaps John is the one projecting? He'll let John stew in it.

"Good luck with that."

Dirk nods to Jane, kicks off the spotless Aether floor, and hops onto his chair, the Kartana sweeping him up in a whirlwind and off down the hall like a rifleshot, leaving Jane and John and John's emotional baggage make three.