10-30-2009, 05:48 PM
335. I got to read a long, rambling letter written by Burke about how the Glorious Revolution of 1688 in England and the French Revolution were not the same at all... and he was very upset someone said they were. :> It was interesting, and there were points I agreed with (like the aesthetics part) and others I did not (how hereditary kindship = freedom!)
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IMAGE CREDITShe smiled. Hybrid blinked, surprised, at the show of emotion; it was unexpected. If anything, this blatant show of body language was disconcerting for Hybrid, as much of his body language was polarized. He either moved too much, pacing and snarling, constantly itching to do something; or he moved too little and remained silent and still for hours on end. His range of body language was therefore very limited; hence his reaction to Kaena's obvious display of it. Somehow, he felt inept.
Just as quickly, words replaced actions: madness, I'm sure. Hybrid clenched his jaw, not wanting to laugh. He did not want her to know her words had amused him; for some reason, it would feel like treason. Treason against the aesthetics of things; treason against authority.
She moved her head, narrowing her eyes for a moment. Hybrid hesitated, then unclenched his jaw, recoiling slightly. What did she want now?
So far as I know, you owe me no debt for anything you've done. If anything, it would be mine owed to you. Hybrid frowned. What did she want? Or, what did she claim she did not want (that surely she did?) She had to be lying. Why would she even think that she owed Hybrid anything? He had never done anything toward or against Kaena; why would she think it was she who carried the burden? Hybrid narrowed his eyes in return, thoroughly confused. He shook his head, trying to figure out how to reply.
"No," he noted, "not to you personally." He paused. "I attacked Gabriel last year. I was bored," and sexually frustrated, but she needs not know that, "and he won. And nothing else." His words felt mechanical, as if he were forcing them out. But the source of his guilt did emanate from that day (though, calling it 'guilt' would be stretching it a bit far). As the mother to Gabriel, Hybrid felt as though telling her about this would somehow pass it on. To whomever. Hybrid didn't know.
Just as quickly, words replaced actions: madness, I'm sure. Hybrid clenched his jaw, not wanting to laugh. He did not want her to know her words had amused him; for some reason, it would feel like treason. Treason against the aesthetics of things; treason against authority.
She moved her head, narrowing her eyes for a moment. Hybrid hesitated, then unclenched his jaw, recoiling slightly. What did she want now?
So far as I know, you owe me no debt for anything you've done. If anything, it would be mine owed to you. Hybrid frowned. What did she want? Or, what did she claim she did not want (that surely she did?) She had to be lying. Why would she even think that she owed Hybrid anything? He had never done anything toward or against Kaena; why would she think it was she who carried the burden? Hybrid narrowed his eyes in return, thoroughly confused. He shook his head, trying to figure out how to reply.
"No," he noted, "not to you personally." He paused. "I attacked Gabriel last year. I was bored," and sexually frustrated, but she needs not know that, "and he won. And nothing else." His words felt mechanical, as if he were forcing them out. But the source of his guilt did emanate from that day (though, calling it 'guilt' would be stretching it a bit far). As the mother to Gabriel, Hybrid felt as though telling her about this would somehow pass it on. To whomever. Hybrid didn't know.