Jove stared at the empty space where the stranger was moments ago. The grit voice still spoke to him on repeat in his head, one phrase: "...ignore those "goons" they aren't what you think they are; they're something worse then any biker or jackass you've fought." The mechanical fingers twitched. Jove turned his head unsurprised that the man had already left, but still said strongly as though he was present, "The worst thing I've had to fight came when I wasn't able to fight. Talk about bad luck. Though I guess it's good luck now, huh." Jove shoved his gigantic fists into his pockets and started up the stairs to his room. He had to do a bit of thinking.
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