A barrage of heated, desperate questions met him, more emotions than the scarred male had seen in his son in far too long. The boy had his mother's nature, quiet and withdrawn for as long as it could take; he lashed out much like Geneva had in the face of Jefferson's stubbornness, and it was how she broke through his walls and taught him to feel more than anguish and regret. The cyclops preferred Pripyat to resemble Geneva more than he — the world, let alone the Valley, could not take another Jefferson Soul in their midst — but naturally, his mother's departure would consequently break his heart.
"I don't know, Pripyat!" he shouted in conclusion, splaying the boy's questions into a mess of things he would hardly remember to address. Green eye burning and pelt flaring, the scarred man turned a wicked, relentless gaze to his son. "You think I want her gone?! She was sick, she didn't want to die here. She was sick for a long time. There's nothing you and I can fucking do about it!"
He allowed the rage to subside then, emotions hollowed out once more into numbness. "I tried my best," he said, frame sagging. "My best wasn't good enough. I don't know where she's gone or if she's ... if she's even alive anymore."
.undonejeffooc {font-style:italic; color:#000000;}
.undonejeff p {padding:0px 20px 5px 20px; margin:0px; text-indent:35px;}
.undonejeff b {color:#EADFCB; text-shadow: 0.0em 0.0em 0.1em #1C2019; letter-spacing:-.2px;}
.undonejeff {font-family: georgia; font-size:12px; color:#696157; letter-spacing:.2px; word-spacing:.3px; line-height:15px; text-align: justify; margin:0px auto; margin:5px auto; width:422px;}
.undonejeffinner{background-color:#BFB6A5; background-image:url(http://i57.photobucket.com/albums/g210/ ... onetab.png); background-position:bottom center; background-repeat:no-repeat; padding:10px 0px 175px 0px; border:1px solid #2D2622; width:422px; border-radius:10px; -moz-border-radius:10px; -webkit-border-radius:10px; margin:0 auto;}
</style>[/html]