Which is making writing a Renais blushingly accepting J's proposal on microcosm a rather interesting experience.
I'm probably going to reread her answers later and gag at the purple, cliche ridden prose. But it is quite worth it right now.
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“Do not go gently into this good night…”
The young man chained to the chair looked up and responded
“Rage, rage against the dying of the light.”
His interrogator looked surprised. The man had simply been reading from his notebook, and hadn’t recognized the quote. One of the young guards had, though, and was looking at the prisoner thoughtfully, if with a certain amount of suspicion.
“I’m sorry Mr., ah, Hemlock?”
“The poem. The next line is ‘rage against the dying of the light’. Its Yeats, sir.” The ‘sir’ was respectful but held a hint of scorn.
The interrogator returned to his clipboard, scrawling something. “None of the other children responded that way.”
“They must have forgotten. And if they have forgotten that…” the sentence trailed suggestively, with the innuendo clear as if he had truly spoken the words ‘you should let them go.’
The pale haired questioner seemed to ignore it, continuing merely with “I see. What was the poem again?”
“Yeats. Our surrogate father read it aloud to us often.”
“Ah yes, Mr. Snake. I hope you understand that he is the reason you are here?”
“I thought the reason was that you think we’re subversives.”
“Subversives because of him.”
Kabuto spat and glared at his guard.“If you are going to execute him, at least do it for crimes he actually committed.”
The masked man blustered, taken back but the sudden vehemence. “But he is a spy…”
“He is a refugee. As that secret service man who brought me in could attest to. He took hell to get ‘Mr. Snake’ out of China. I’m sure the Toad remembers.”
“So he was to vile even for China?”
Kabuto gritted his teeth. “If he had stayed, he would have died. China is not a pretty place right now. Especially for one such as him.”
“What was his crime? What terrible thing did he do?” Mocked the Inquisitor.
“He was homosexual.”
Silence, broken by a choking sound from a young, blond haired guard.
“He is not a communist.” Interrupted the young prisoner.
“What?”
“He is not a communist. He quite likes your system of government. It give rise to so many unfortunates for him to study…”