[Maybe not literally, but Jonathan's not in the right place to split hairs about that right now. He shakes his head slowly, trying to stand back up from his awkward slump against the bookshelf and failing to do so. He always struggled with the story of Cain's punishment, and this version... this, that makes all of Naoya's seething hate make perfect awful sense....]
The world was young. You were younger. You... y-you... your version of things, not just that you didn't know what you were doing, he was your - your most - and you didn't even know what happened, did you? Fuck. You don't... you don't raise a child like that. You don't punish them and go "hey, look at this, this could be you" to every kid in the fucking neighborhood and then never stop with the punishment on top of that. Punishing an adult, that's... that's why we have prisons, that's different, but children, people who are new to the world or don't understand it, you don't... you don't.
[He shakes his head, slowly, and when he starts talking again his voice increases in pace more than pitch.]
Your dad stands there cooking eggs and you look at the stove and he tells you no don't touch that it's hot, you'll be hurt, and you slap your whole palm down on it anyway... the pain of your hand is the just the first part, getting punished for not listening makes it even worse because you know you disappointed him when you just wanted to know for yourself what he meant, and this is a stupid metaphor because being exiled and forced to watch your children's children's children and all their kind wiped off the face of the Earth in the Flood just because you didn't understand is - it's - that's unimaginable to something like me, it's nothing like being smacked upside the head and told you're studying inside instead of throwin' axes if you can't even be trusted to -
[Of all the things - of all the things he's learned here, the horrible things he's seen so far, here - it is sorrowful horror and sorrowing pity that finally breaks years of self-control. His voice breaks and the tears standing in his eyes spill over and he folds almost as though he's about to be sick, both hands at his mouth. It's a few moments before he can even breathe steadily enough to look up at Naoya, eyes wide and still streaming, horrified and terrified and sorrow-sick all at once.]
Naoya. That's... that is the name you want, right? I didn't think... I didn't... I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, I didn't know, I couldn't even begin to imagine... I'm so sorry....
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ninetydegrees
(no subject)
[Maybe not literally, but Jonathan's not in the right place to split hairs about that right now. He shakes his head slowly, trying to stand back up from his awkward slump against the bookshelf and failing to do so. He always struggled with the story of Cain's punishment, and this version... this, that makes all of Naoya's seething hate make perfect awful sense....]
The world was young. You were younger. You... y-you... your version of things, not just that you didn't know what you were doing, he was your - your most - and you didn't even know what happened, did you? Fuck. You don't... you don't raise a child like that. You don't punish them and go "hey, look at this, this could be you" to every kid in the fucking neighborhood and then never stop with the punishment on top of that. Punishing an adult, that's... that's why we have prisons, that's different, but children, people who are new to the world or don't understand it, you don't... you don't.
[He shakes his head, slowly, and when he starts talking again his voice increases in pace more than pitch.]
Your dad stands there cooking eggs and you look at the stove and he tells you no don't touch that it's hot, you'll be hurt, and you slap your whole palm down on it anyway... the pain of your hand is the just the first part, getting punished for not listening makes it even worse because you know you disappointed him when you just wanted to know for yourself what he meant, and this is a stupid metaphor because being exiled and forced to watch your children's children's children and all their kind wiped off the face of the Earth in the Flood just because you didn't understand is - it's - that's unimaginable to something like me, it's nothing like being smacked upside the head and told you're studying inside instead of throwin' axes if you can't even be trusted to -
[Of all the things - of all the things he's learned here, the horrible things he's seen so far, here - it is sorrowful horror and sorrowing pity that finally breaks years of self-control. His voice breaks and the tears standing in his eyes spill over and he folds almost as though he's about to be sick, both hands at his mouth. It's a few moments before he can even breathe steadily enough to look up at Naoya, eyes wide and still streaming, horrified and terrified and sorrow-sick all at once.]
Naoya. That's... that is the name you want, right? I didn't think... I didn't... I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, I didn't know, I couldn't even begin to imagine... I'm so sorry....