01-26-2010, 12:58 AM
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384.
Truth be told, their childhoods might have a few similarities. Snake may have not been abused as much in the terrible ways that she had been, but he had certainly been tormented similarly. He had been trained to the point of physical exhaustion and then put through psychological and mental scenarios that had drastically changed his outlook and his point in life—such was easy to say by his utterly emotionless existence. He found contentedness only in work, and that was usually because he hated the feeling of being idle, just as Vieira thought that it would keep her from being punished. No one would probably rebuke him if he did not work as tirelessly as he did, but he knew that it would be detrimental to himself as a whole. If he was not doing something to occupy himself, his mind began to wander to places that he would rather not go. No, it was much better to remain busy, remain the same. Change was such a frightening thing for him sometimes.
Regardless, it seemed as though he would have help in his personal crusade to put up a physical boundary around the southern forested borders.
He bid her goodbye and then escorted her a part of the way to the Caves, diverging his own path when he grew too near to his own home in the Landfill. Then he did his usual routine at night—he rekindled the fire that had faded into coal and ash, drinking the remainder of a bottle of some fiery liquor that he had found earlier. He lie down on his back near the fire, staring up at the stars as they began to come out. Then eventually he grew tired and crawled inside the car that acted as his den, slamming the door and bundling up in blankets before falling into a dreamless sleep.
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384.
Truth be told, their childhoods might have a few similarities. Snake may have not been abused as much in the terrible ways that she had been, but he had certainly been tormented similarly. He had been trained to the point of physical exhaustion and then put through psychological and mental scenarios that had drastically changed his outlook and his point in life—such was easy to say by his utterly emotionless existence. He found contentedness only in work, and that was usually because he hated the feeling of being idle, just as Vieira thought that it would keep her from being punished. No one would probably rebuke him if he did not work as tirelessly as he did, but he knew that it would be detrimental to himself as a whole. If he was not doing something to occupy himself, his mind began to wander to places that he would rather not go. No, it was much better to remain busy, remain the same. Change was such a frightening thing for him sometimes.
Regardless, it seemed as though he would have help in his personal crusade to put up a physical boundary around the southern forested borders.
Okay,he agreed, his stony expression becoming slightly looser as he observed the genuine glimmer of a smile light up on her face.
Yeah, I will,he responded to her other question, shifting his weight nervously between his feet and continuing,
I suppose I will see you again then.Kaena willing, of course. The Hastati did not want to drive a wedge between the Centurion and the girl who was her property.
He bid her goodbye and then escorted her a part of the way to the Caves, diverging his own path when he grew too near to his own home in the Landfill. Then he did his usual routine at night—he rekindled the fire that had faded into coal and ash, drinking the remainder of a bottle of some fiery liquor that he had found earlier. He lie down on his back near the fire, staring up at the stars as they began to come out. Then eventually he grew tired and crawled inside the car that acted as his den, slamming the door and bundling up in blankets before falling into a dreamless sleep.