Day 56: Bus 3

[rocksthecourt]

Waking carried a sense of disappointment along with it for the first time in a long time. Klavier actually sighed in irritation when he realized where he was. Damn it all. So they hadn't managed to move quickly enough to cover as much ground as they had hoped. It was a shame, really. Last night had actually proven to be relatively productive. If

Comments

[purpletaint]

...He was surprised to find something warm heating within him. Something much like anger, actual, in truth, not like the kind offered to others. It came as hate and the feeling was too intimate for this man. Klavier did not... deserve Albedo's hatred. Not when his offense was idiocy, his crime ignorance--his sin only close-minded stupidity. There was no grace within this man. There was no delicacy to his acts. Klavier stumbled like a newborn animal, crushing whatever he tread on. Albedo's violence held more intricacies, each act deliberate and pointed to extenuate a fact. Of this... A creature yet fearful and still continuing... The man had no survival instinct, no listening skills, and no willingness to allow a different view from his own. Klavier's mind was made up. Albedo had known this. What the weapon hadn't thought of was the other continuing, shakily stepping forward to crush Albedo's truth by ill-phrased words. Of Klavier--the man was barbaric, the prime example of a race consuming itself to claim supremacy over nothing, and why again, did Albedo think talking to a backwards ape would come to any terms?

Like a dog ill-trained, Klavier would make a mess of things time and time again. Albedo would do well to put more care into his efforts. Or do both a favor and detach Klavier's existence from this disgusting conglomerate of a world. A reality too entranced with its inadequacies, too in love with its own faults to realize the worthlessness of its own meaning. Meaning?! It was faulty to even consider meaning. In this, there was nothing but things lacking.

Nothing but a drone of another drilling into his skull to rattle things that had quieted to life.

As if Albedo could think of it. As if there was anything but.

Oh, but word use. It had killed others time and time again, and here would likely be no different. Klavier had repeated abandon; the man had said betray. And what would always come to mind with those words, what would always be pushed forward with such startling clarity every time? It began with red and ended with black, and even as Albedo had begun to move on, it peaked with emotions, made worse by this creature's trampling. Klavier would speak of betrayal?! As if he knew it, felt it, other than by his own hand. Here, was what Albedo could not allow: here was a twin's tearing, then grinding his heel into the remains. Speak of betrayal? Albedo had tasted it, knew the scent as much as any other. He had betrayed them, he had wanted to kill them, but neither were innocents.

Neither could not claim blood on their hands. Of the three, was it not Albedo who was the most innocent?! And wouldn't that continue to be the most delicious of ironies. That handfuls of lives stained either brother, black and red, and white remained pure.

How he hated it!