[Justice League] Violent Aesthetics

Almost everyone in the world is on a journey to find their own future.As fighters, they demonstrate a selfless devotion to their calling, both to the human community and to the individual.

During the time in Oa, we were always willing to mention more things about the earth, as if only doing so could make us stand out from the crowd.When we call other people alien hybrids, we are also one of them.

No one denies it, and no one admits it.

We all know that, if you want to protect something, you never talk about it with ignorant creatures.

It's not about making ourselves look superior, we just love our homes more.

"Watch out for that floor, it's loose." John handed me the glass and I filled him with another beer.

At that time, John Stewart and I -- we didn't talk about anything, we didn't think about anything but earthly things.Occasionally, when the task load is off, in a sense, we also hope that Hal Jordan will cancel his fake date, and that Kyle will stop rejecting our invitation with all the reasons that sound ridiculous and prevaricated, because the precious " "Private All Events" will give us a fantastic reality check.

John took a sip, and when he smacked his lips, he frowned and gave me a hard slap on the shoulder, which caught me off guard.

"You mixed it with lye!"

Sorry John.I said, and then returned the slap he made intact.Actually that's amyl nitrite.

Then we all had a good time, I grabbed his glass and drank all the rest of the wine, then went around from the end of the long table to find a seat on his side and sat down, turning the lifting stool that can rotate 360 ​​degrees freely Turn your back to the table at an angle.The bar was messy, but that's what we needed.

What did old man Smith say first?I asked, resting my elbow on the smooth table.

"They always say the same story, it seems like everyone is in collusion." John ordered two more beers, handed me one of them still bubbling, and kept the other for himself.

bad news.

"He said: Our goals can be boiled down to one word - quality."

I'm so sick of this posturing.

"Me too," John said, "their momentum will never be supported by words, and when I say to him—"

Did you tell him?I interrupt him.

"Of course, I told him."

you sure?

"I am sure."

what did you say?

John half-turned his body to an angle just enough to see the face I was leaning towards him, then looked me in the eyes and said, as if I were that old man Smith: "For example, if you are going to tell your subordinate Or if a co-worker yells at you, imagine how you would look yourself."

After listening to him, I drank all the beer in the glass in one go, and only a few popping bubbles were left in the glass.

This is John Stewart, he lives for what he does.

It happened to be a sunny morning when I woke up in the hospital.

Originally, I could enjoy this brief peace, but all this was ruined by the noise outside the room.

It could be the first day of my coma, or the second, or the third, or the fourth, or the fifth, or the sixth, or the seventh day, or longer, I don't know, and I don't want to know.Anyway, when I clearly feel what kind of tube is inserted in my body and how many gauze bandages are wrapped in it, I don’t bother to think about those insignificant things anymore, it’s like eating expired strawberry pudding and asking how much it’s expired God, or it is reasonable to ask what brand of peanut butter it is when you have an allergic reaction to peanut butter.

In fact, I didn't think those injuries should be serious. After all, my brain is still thinking normally, my lungs are breathing normally, my heart is beating normally, and my eyelids are still opening and closing normally.

I stared at the door of the ward, imagining myself as an old man longing for his children to visit, but I heard the loss and helplessness of the incompetent and unambitious children chattering and arguing at the door because of the insurance compensation issue.It feels so much better.

I was not disappointed at all, let alone helpless, I knew who was outside the door, and I could vaguely hear what they were saying, so I turned over and pretended that I was still asleep.

Within minutes, they pushed the door open.

It's been a long wait, and it's ridiculous that they're waiting for someone who's pretending to be asleep to wake up.

Kyle Reiner circled to the direction I was facing, and I opened one eye to look at him, then closed it again.

"Hey! You're awake?!" He saw it, and he yelled in disbelief at first, and then he said to others, "Hal, he's awake!"

I answered with a muffled sound through my nose, then opened my eyes to look at him before speaking, "Did you come with news, Kyle?"

"News, what news?"

"That door, we talked about—"

"what…"

He drew the end of the sound lengthily, stretched out his hand to scratch his hair and looked at Jordan who was separated by a bed, and suddenly the room fell silent.

"Thursday, the day after tomorrow." The voice came from behind, serious and honest, I don't even know how to describe this attitude, "The guardians don't know we have this plan yet."

us--?I asked back, then tried to sit up and look in Harna's direction.

Kyle gave me a hand to lean against the head of the bed and said, "Hal come with us."

Oh that's great.I squeeze my eyes slowly.

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