John glanced sideways at the man, sizing him up for a moment before responding. It always felt odd, talking to people, especially after he had spent so much time doing the things he regretted. Sometimes it felt like he was being watched, like there was this 'other' John, waiting, breathing down his neck, just itching to set fire to the world.

It always hindered conversation.

He sighed. Then again, Vincent and Jamie are always trying to get me 'out of my shell'. Whatever that meant.

He took another swig of his liquor, breathing out as the spice tickled his throat. He eyed the cigar at his fingertips noting that it was nearly spent. He'd have to get a new one soon. As for Joshua's query, it was easy enough to answer. He set his glass down, raising his hand to his shirt, unbuttoning the ones on his chest, pulling the fabric to the side slightly to expose a chest full of hair, scars, and whipcord muscle. As he did, he willed the armor on his back to adopt the same flowing posture that it had the day he laid low the dragon Sunwing. The armor flowed upwards along the scars on his chest, the silvery metal covering his burn scars and moving down his arms. He reminisced for a few seconds, tracing the armor, remembering the pain and triumph as the metal burned him and he slew the beast. He looked up at Joshua, laying the cigar down in a small ashtray.

"Long story short, I beat a dragon to death with a hammer. I had help, of course, but still. This metal shielded me from the dragon's heat, but then forming it into a weapon gave me these scars."

He snapped his fingers, and one of the rings on his left hand glowed slightly. A small pop! followed, and another cigar appeared in his fingers, end slightly red.