[For all that this is a break, it's one he hardly needed. His focus and stamina for his projects was endless. Nothing here has come close to filling that void, to engaging him as fully. Not having any true mortal enemies, not having his usual backstabbing coterie of sharks.
He's listening now, and his expression is as close to a cat with its ears sideways as human physiognomy can get. He'd said if he knew what it was he'd stop it. He can't exactly stop that. It isn't a switch to be toggled on or off. He lifts a hand to drag it down his mouth.]
I could throw out several cutting remarks.
[It's bone dry. He shakes his head abruptly.]
I thought that if I could...physically feel, experience it through their eyes and give them pleasure, it might spark something in me. It didn't. I suppose I don't have the oxy...tocin.
[Yes, he does know that word. He must have studied it as one of several hormones produced by the brain. It was never relevant to his particular research, so he shunted it aside.]
But when it didn't, they grew angry or disturbed, and that... Why would you be angry when someone tells you in advance they're not like that? That they'll never be like that?
This isn't an edge. It's a precipice. If all I'm capable of feeling for most is irritation, then I hardly see the point. I could do that without being open. I did. Constantly.
no subject
[For all that this is a break, it's one he hardly needed. His focus and stamina for his projects was endless. Nothing here has come close to filling that void, to engaging him as fully. Not having any true mortal enemies, not having his usual backstabbing coterie of sharks.
He's listening now, and his expression is as close to a cat with its ears sideways as human physiognomy can get. He'd said if he knew what it was he'd stop it. He can't exactly stop that. It isn't a switch to be toggled on or off. He lifts a hand to drag it down his mouth.]
I could throw out several cutting remarks.
[It's bone dry. He shakes his head abruptly.]
I thought that if I could...physically feel, experience it through their eyes and give them pleasure, it might spark something in me. It didn't. I suppose I don't have the oxy...tocin.
[Yes, he does know that word. He must have studied it as one of several hormones produced by the brain. It was never relevant to his particular research, so he shunted it aside.]
But when it didn't, they grew angry or disturbed, and that... Why would you be angry when someone tells you in advance they're not like that? That they'll never be like that?
This isn't an edge. It's a precipice. If all I'm capable of feeling for most is irritation, then I hardly see the point. I could do that without being open. I did. Constantly.