Anti-OTP: Gabrielle/Pascal
Gabrielle needs something to occupy her time, and so she heads down to the library to pick out a book. What she finds, eventually, is a small volume of erotica from the Victorian era -- interesting enough, she thinks, to find out whether the most sordid of reading material has changed at all since her day.
Soon, however, she finds herself bored with it -- unlike the Marquis' work, there is nothing philosophical about this book, nothing shocking or intelligent or dangerous. Nothing to make her think, even a thought as simple as "That's dreadful!" or "He couldn't possibly believe this." All it is, she thinks, is stories about flesh written by people afraid of flesh.
She sighs and closes her book. She would much prefer a live human being to speak with.
Typist: . . . mispost? What mispost?
Soon, however, she finds herself bored with it -- unlike the Marquis' work, there is nothing philosophical about this book, nothing shocking or intelligent or dangerous. Nothing to make her think, even a thought as simple as "That's dreadful!" or "He couldn't possibly believe this." All it is, she thinks, is stories about flesh written by people afraid of flesh.
She sighs and closes her book. She would much prefer a live human being to speak with.
Typist: . . . mispost? What mispost?