11-15-2009, 12:41 AM
Sorry for holding this up, Akumu. D:
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Though he would never admit it—not even to himself—Snake did, from time to time, send a wayward thought towards his parents. Primarily his mother, though (it was no offense to Laurel, of course, but he hadn’t known him as long). He knew from watching her rail and despair in New Haven that she hated her past life, and especially hated many of her children—primarily the ones that took so much after Patriot, such as Zero, Ray, and Rex. She had been especially pained when she saw Foxhound’s corruption. Snake knew that she loved him and his brother the most, perhaps because she wondered if her children from anyone besides Patriot would be anywhere close to normal. When that didn’t work out, well, it had hurt her. That was why she took Snake with her—she had seen a glimpse of hope within him, and tried to allow it to grow by letting him meet his father and see the world.
Unfortunately for the woman, Snake never managed to shift from where his mind had been before. He knew that, out of all of her children, he was her favorite, but he simply couldn’t locate within himself the love necessary to give her what she wanted. It was a file that was simply left out of his programming, or so it seemed. But, seeing his father here and his mother absent, that made Snake feel something cold and uncomfortable growing within him. It might have been guilt, or pity, or even remorse; he didn’t know which. No matter what he did, he felt as though he caused his mother pain, and even managed to extort some worry from his father. He had never wanted any of it.
His hands slowly clenched into fists at his sides, though he moved them slightly, as to hide it from Laurel. He had to keep his emotionless façade, no matter the cost. He understood what he meant to say, though—at least he had gotten to see him, and he could tell his mom that he was okay. That allowed that dreadful feeling to alleviate some, but it was definitely still here. Squirming a little inside, Snake nodded and replied, “If either of you must, you’re welcome to come and check on me. I don’t think anyone here will mind.” They were coyotes, of course, and family members. Plus, Snake had the sneaking suspicion that many would know them. This statement, along with Laurel’s final mention of his mother, shrunk still that feeling, but it was not yet gone. He frowned, trying to figure out a way to return to his usual, uneventful, quiescent self. Finally, he looked down and murmured, “Tell Mom that I miss her—sometimes—and that I hope she’s okay. And… and it was nice seeing you again, Dad.”
And then the feeling was gone, reduced to where it was no more. But the most curious aspect of all of this was that Snake didn’t have the metallic taste in his mouth that resulted from him telling lies. He didn’t feel it was truth that he missed his mother, or that he was glad to see his father, but nonetheless they seemed truth to him. Perhaps he did do those things, but merely didn’t notice it. Were there mechanics happening beneath the exterior of his thoughts that he had no recollection of? The thought frightened him… but it also gave him a strange, warm feeling. Perhaps a feeling of hope.
Though he would never admit it—not even to himself—Snake did, from time to time, send a wayward thought towards his parents. Primarily his mother, though (it was no offense to Laurel, of course, but he hadn’t known him as long). He knew from watching her rail and despair in New Haven that she hated her past life, and especially hated many of her children—primarily the ones that took so much after Patriot, such as Zero, Ray, and Rex. She had been especially pained when she saw Foxhound’s corruption. Snake knew that she loved him and his brother the most, perhaps because she wondered if her children from anyone besides Patriot would be anywhere close to normal. When that didn’t work out, well, it had hurt her. That was why she took Snake with her—she had seen a glimpse of hope within him, and tried to allow it to grow by letting him meet his father and see the world.
Unfortunately for the woman, Snake never managed to shift from where his mind had been before. He knew that, out of all of her children, he was her favorite, but he simply couldn’t locate within himself the love necessary to give her what she wanted. It was a file that was simply left out of his programming, or so it seemed. But, seeing his father here and his mother absent, that made Snake feel something cold and uncomfortable growing within him. It might have been guilt, or pity, or even remorse; he didn’t know which. No matter what he did, he felt as though he caused his mother pain, and even managed to extort some worry from his father. He had never wanted any of it.
His hands slowly clenched into fists at his sides, though he moved them slightly, as to hide it from Laurel. He had to keep his emotionless façade, no matter the cost. He understood what he meant to say, though—at least he had gotten to see him, and he could tell his mom that he was okay. That allowed that dreadful feeling to alleviate some, but it was definitely still here. Squirming a little inside, Snake nodded and replied, “If either of you must, you’re welcome to come and check on me. I don’t think anyone here will mind.” They were coyotes, of course, and family members. Plus, Snake had the sneaking suspicion that many would know them. This statement, along with Laurel’s final mention of his mother, shrunk still that feeling, but it was not yet gone. He frowned, trying to figure out a way to return to his usual, uneventful, quiescent self. Finally, he looked down and murmured, “Tell Mom that I miss her—sometimes—and that I hope she’s okay. And… and it was nice seeing you again, Dad.”
And then the feeling was gone, reduced to where it was no more. But the most curious aspect of all of this was that Snake didn’t have the metallic taste in his mouth that resulted from him telling lies. He didn’t feel it was truth that he missed his mother, or that he was glad to see his father, but nonetheless they seemed truth to him. Perhaps he did do those things, but merely didn’t notice it. Were there mechanics happening beneath the exterior of his thoughts that he had no recollection of? The thought frightened him… but it also gave him a strange, warm feeling. Perhaps a feeling of hope.
table credit goes to jacoby
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