01-07-2010, 09:46 PM
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@&#&$Every passing moment, every nervous gesture, every failed attempt at communication afforded him a quick glimpse into her psyche. As time wore on, he grew increasingly perplexed by the general energy she projected--she seemed overwhelmingly uncertain of everything, lacking the confidence to give straightforward answers or contribute anything to the conversation that was not asked of her directly. It was borderline distressing; had she not seemed comfortable asking about his tattoos earlier, he might have assumed he was intimidating her, although really he didn't know how such a thing would be possible while he was rolling around on the ground like a goof ball.
@&#&$Her unimaginative response brought a visible frown to his face, and he flipped over onto his stomach and pushed himself up into a lazy sit, his head tilting to the left as he regarded her strangely. "Guess you never played that game," he eventually concluded, defeated. Even this was sort of hard for him to wrap his mind around; he was fairly confident if he asked anybody else the same question, they'd come up with something a little better than "a cloud" (short of someone like Hybrid or Samael, who'd say such a thing just to be scathingly sarcastic, he was sure). Certainly these childhood pastimes were not limited to the tiny patch of Vermont. What did children play when there were no pelts available for tug of war and they'd already exhausted themselves playing tag or keep away?
@&#&$"Are you okay?" he finally wondered aloud, seeing no point in pussyfooting around the issue any longer. "You really don't seem happy; like you don't want to be here or something," he prompted, though he really wasn't sure how to continue. He didn't feel as if he had to apologise for anything; it wasn't like he was forcefully keeping her here against her free will. What singular event could have triggered this sort of behaviour? He had no way of knowing that this was the result of years of torment, of being broken down and "dehumanised" since birth. That sort of depravity was far beyond his comprehension--Anselm knew nothing of the world from which she had came, and if he did he'd probably be disgusted.
mall-caps;font-weight:bold;text-align:right; border-top:1px solid #AB360D">SoSuWriMo +370
@&#&$Her unimaginative response brought a visible frown to his face, and he flipped over onto his stomach and pushed himself up into a lazy sit, his head tilting to the left as he regarded her strangely. "Guess you never played that game," he eventually concluded, defeated. Even this was sort of hard for him to wrap his mind around; he was fairly confident if he asked anybody else the same question, they'd come up with something a little better than "a cloud" (short of someone like Hybrid or Samael, who'd say such a thing just to be scathingly sarcastic, he was sure). Certainly these childhood pastimes were not limited to the tiny patch of Vermont. What did children play when there were no pelts available for tug of war and they'd already exhausted themselves playing tag or keep away?
@&#&$"Are you okay?" he finally wondered aloud, seeing no point in pussyfooting around the issue any longer. "You really don't seem happy; like you don't want to be here or something," he prompted, though he really wasn't sure how to continue. He didn't feel as if he had to apologise for anything; it wasn't like he was forcefully keeping her here against her free will. What singular event could have triggered this sort of behaviour? He had no way of knowing that this was the result of years of torment, of being broken down and "dehumanised" since birth. That sort of depravity was far beyond his comprehension--Anselm knew nothing of the world from which she had came, and if he did he'd probably be disgusted.
mall-caps;font-weight:bold;text-align:right; border-top:1px solid #AB360D">SoSuWriMo +370