10-05-2009, 09:42 PM
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Sometimes he thought that his eyes were the only truly living part of him. Snake could not hide from his personality—he was almost an automaton sometimes, acting without thought and generally on instinct, just as a robot would do, following its programming. Sometimes his heart ate through that steely exterior of his, though, and showed through. Sometimes it was a glint in his soft green eyes, or a present of a broken mirror to a girl. All these pieces of his own humanity came together to create a mosaic that Snake often had to use to prove to himself that he wasn’t just a reaction to circumstances around him. He did have thoughts, and he did have feelings, and he did have emotions. They were just buried very deep within a strangely intricate person. How, or when, he would truly unlock them was far beyond his comprehension at this current moment. He was not esurient for finding himself at this very moment, or within the immediate future.
The girl lowered the mirror almost immediately after attempting to blind him, though Snake was too busy blinking the splotches of yellow and orange out of his retinas to really notice. She seemed fascinated with the object, though; far more than he was, which made him happy that he had given it to her. While he himself didn’t respond to her giggles at his attempt at humor, he was pleased that he had made her laugh, even if he couldn’t return the favor. He watched her stoically as she looked into her own reflection. He saw the recognition in her yellow eyes as she made faces at her grinning doppelganger, nearly prompting a smile from the serious youth—nearly. Eventually he guessed that she realized his gaze and stopped taunting her own image, her face falling emotionless once more as she faced him. He gave a small nod to her use of the words ‘glass’ and ‘mirror’—at least just to let her know she used them right. Snake had guessed that most wolves and coyotes knew at least something about human objects and traditions, but… obviously, that was not the case.
Things finally seemed to roll around from toying with human things and trivialities to the heart of the meeting—introduction. She named herself Bramble, or Bram, which Snake immediately and automatically responded with, “Nice to meet you, Bram.” She asked for his name and he paused momentarily. He remembered his mother saying to handle one’s name with care; often it was his or her only possession in this world. But Snake believed Bram to be trustworthy, so he divulged, “My name is Snake.”
Luckily, last names were not mentioned, so Snake would not have to mention that he didn’t believe himself to have one. He had several, but he didn’t choose to take any. He had once asked his mother if he should be called Snake Eirisa, but she had laughed and told him that than name was dead to her, so it was out of the question for him. She said he was welcome to take his father’s name—Booth—but Snake was not yet so sure. His own complex about his father, and whom he more related to, Laurel or Patriot, was still up for debate in Snake’s mind. So he forsake them all and created an identify for himself: Snake. Simple, yet so was he.
Sometimes he thought that his eyes were the only truly living part of him. Snake could not hide from his personality—he was almost an automaton sometimes, acting without thought and generally on instinct, just as a robot would do, following its programming. Sometimes his heart ate through that steely exterior of his, though, and showed through. Sometimes it was a glint in his soft green eyes, or a present of a broken mirror to a girl. All these pieces of his own humanity came together to create a mosaic that Snake often had to use to prove to himself that he wasn’t just a reaction to circumstances around him. He did have thoughts, and he did have feelings, and he did have emotions. They were just buried very deep within a strangely intricate person. How, or when, he would truly unlock them was far beyond his comprehension at this current moment. He was not esurient for finding himself at this very moment, or within the immediate future.
The girl lowered the mirror almost immediately after attempting to blind him, though Snake was too busy blinking the splotches of yellow and orange out of his retinas to really notice. She seemed fascinated with the object, though; far more than he was, which made him happy that he had given it to her. While he himself didn’t respond to her giggles at his attempt at humor, he was pleased that he had made her laugh, even if he couldn’t return the favor. He watched her stoically as she looked into her own reflection. He saw the recognition in her yellow eyes as she made faces at her grinning doppelganger, nearly prompting a smile from the serious youth—nearly. Eventually he guessed that she realized his gaze and stopped taunting her own image, her face falling emotionless once more as she faced him. He gave a small nod to her use of the words ‘glass’ and ‘mirror’—at least just to let her know she used them right. Snake had guessed that most wolves and coyotes knew at least something about human objects and traditions, but… obviously, that was not the case.
Things finally seemed to roll around from toying with human things and trivialities to the heart of the meeting—introduction. She named herself Bramble, or Bram, which Snake immediately and automatically responded with, “Nice to meet you, Bram.” She asked for his name and he paused momentarily. He remembered his mother saying to handle one’s name with care; often it was his or her only possession in this world. But Snake believed Bram to be trustworthy, so he divulged, “My name is Snake.”
Luckily, last names were not mentioned, so Snake would not have to mention that he didn’t believe himself to have one. He had several, but he didn’t choose to take any. He had once asked his mother if he should be called Snake Eirisa, but she had laughed and told him that than name was dead to her, so it was out of the question for him. She said he was welcome to take his father’s name—Booth—but Snake was not yet so sure. His own complex about his father, and whom he more related to, Laurel or Patriot, was still up for debate in Snake’s mind. So he forsake them all and created an identify for himself: Snake. Simple, yet so was he.
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