Jake buried his hands in his pockets. He was in his costume. His costumed resembled closely what sky divers wore. It had been white before, but he made a few modifications to it since then. He wore white during the day, and black during the night. It helped him blend in, even though he could run faster than the untrained eye could track. Some people could track it, like his family, and he needed every edge he could get. The one he wore now was white though, the material darkened with water. It was loose and slightly baggy. His goggles - white wore not tinted, but were big enough to cover most of the top half of his face - hung around his neck. They were meant to protect him from the wind when he ran, but they worked well against water too. Well, until the water began to block his vision - he learned that the hard way with Eva.
"As oppose to what? Giving up? There's this norse mythology right? Odin - the head honcho in charge - He sacrificed a lot for language and to become all seeing. The eye in the sky. And I respected that, because he had to struggle for his power, right, like us. He wasn't just made all powerful, he had fight for that shit. But with the all seeing - he had to lose an eye for that - and it gave him foresight. It meant that he knew how things would end. He knew that eventually there would be these wolves that came out from behind the moon and sun, and those wolves would bring about the destruction of nearly every single god, and humans. He knew that he would die too. And out of the surviving god, or gods, I can't remember which, I assume two because they're not like sponges who can just spontaneously reproduce. But out of those surviving gods, all of the gods would be reborn. And he would live every single life knowing he would eventually die. But he still struggled for his power. He still made those sacrifices. He still fought."
Jake took a hand out of his pocket and pushed his hair out of his eyes. "If I knew we would lose, I would still fight," he said. "Because what else can we do? Give up? Stand down and let everything happen. Let other people decide our lives for us? Let them dictate what becomes of us? No way dude, fuck that. If we die, if this ends really badly, at least we fought. At least we tried. Bad things don't just go away because you ignore them, right? I mean this is racism, it's evil, and evil festers - it reproduces, it grows - in the dark and if we let them keep at what they're doing, in the dark, ignoring it, then we're not very good people either. Evil succeeds when good people do nothing." Jake had a whole arsenal of words that didn't belong to him, but words that meant something to him. Words that meant everything to this situation. "There comes a time when being neutral means that you're a part of the problem, not the solution." And Jake might not be good with the big picture, but he did know that. He knew that not fighting wouldn't help, even if they knew they would lose.
He took a breath, and watched her closely. He'd been watching her closely a lot lately. He wasn't sure why, he just liked it. "Would you fight?" He countered, and it was a controlled question. While his speech had had judgment in it - his question did not. His question sounded the same as all his other questions. Curious, but not demanding a specific answer.