Snippet #2650470

Maxson exhaled slowly, thinking about every contingency he could possibly put into play. When it came right down to it, though, the answer was obvious. They couldn't win. Olympus wasn't an entity they could put in a bullet in. Olympus was a place, or rather multiple places. It was an idea. It was an amalgamation of people and corruption. It was living, breathing, but also a spector. Destroying Olympus in one fell swoop was a literal impossibility.

So, what then? If he wasn't planning a suicide run to finally end all the bullshit... what was he doing? Why was he even here, with her? Why did he care? He cursed internally. The same damn questions, over and over. Fuck it. Aaron Maxson didn't lose, damn it!

"Aaron Maxson doesn't lose..." He muttered out out. He looked to her, his eyes suddenly burning with intensity. "We can't take down Olympus, but I can sure as hell try to fix a life I allowed to be ruined. Guess we all gotta do one good deed in our lives, huh Cinnamon?"

He leaned into her, a sly grin crossing his face.

"Small victories. Have to focus on the small victories, Cinnamon. Like me. I had fun last night. I had a drink this morning. The smell of plastic explosives. Now I'm holding a beautiful woman as we plot violence together. Victories all around."