[The sinew latticing his jaw conspires with its bone, the words escaping his mouth before he can censor a single one:] Disappointing them. Disappointing everyone, anyone.

[Immediately he bites down hard on his bottom lip, his hands clench into fists beneath widened eyes. Not quite the one-sided game he anticipated; this dirt hole had two shovels. A shallow shrug follows, his artifice too polished to be convincing nonchalance. The low hum of exquisite engines unseen drowns out the hard thumping of his pulse but not the gleam of sweat glinting his brow. Jayce considers the risks inherent to continuing this evolving game with the most cunning man of two cities.

And he sides with experimentation.]

But I once suffered very different fears. And if I'm capable of change, [he leans forward,] are you?