Post by Sebastian Cromwell on Sept 27, 2007 15:47:30 GMT -5
It is the cause, it is the cause, my soul,--
Let me not name it to you, you chaste stars!--
It is the cause. Yet I'll not shed her blood;
Nor scar that whiter skin of hers than snow,
And smooth as monumental alabaster.
Yet she must die, else she'll betray more men.
Put out the light, and then put out the light:
If I quench thee, thou flaming minister,
I can again thy former light restore,
Should I repent me: but once put out thy light,
Thou cunning'st pattern of excelling nature,
I know not where is that Promethean heat
That can thy light relume. When I have pluck'd the rose,
I cannot give it vital growth again.
It must needs wither: I'll smell it on the tree.
Let me not name it to you, you chaste stars!--
It is the cause. Yet I'll not shed her blood;
Nor scar that whiter skin of hers than snow,
And smooth as monumental alabaster.
Yet she must die, else she'll betray more men.
Put out the light, and then put out the light:
If I quench thee, thou flaming minister,
I can again thy former light restore,
Should I repent me: but once put out thy light,
Thou cunning'st pattern of excelling nature,
I know not where is that Promethean heat
That can thy light relume. When I have pluck'd the rose,
I cannot give it vital growth again.
It must needs wither: I'll smell it on the tree.
The park was one of Sebastian favorite places to frequent. Especially on days that were rainy or cloudy or cold. Sebastian could deal with all those things, but many other people tended to spend their times indoors in such weather. Sebastian was thus more likely to spend it in the park. he liked the solitude. He was much better in areas that lacked people.
Today however, was rather warm and sunny, but not too much of either. It was a perfect day and thus the park was rather crowded. However, there were not that many people Mon the park path, which was nice because Sebastian enjoyed walking through the park. Eventually he would find an empty bench and sit down to stare into the distance, perhaps read his worn copy of Othello that resided in his messenger bag.
The teenager was wearing denim jeans, dark blue and a t-shirt, also blue, both a little tighter then was perhaps fashionable for a teenage boy. His years old burn scars were visible on his forearms, puckered and pink. He wasn't unaware of them of course, but they didn't bother him so that he covered them up. The scars didn't matter to him. he had a green messenger bag slung over his shoulder containing his copy of Othello,3 dollars and 37 cents, 2 mechanical pencils, a small note pad and a black sharpie.
He walked along the dirt path, feeling the ground crunch under his feet, feeling it as well. he could feel the slightest breeze against his skin and the corner of the book hitting his leg through the fabric of the green messenger bag with every step. Sebastian could hear the far off sounds of people in the park, muffled enough that he couldn't hear the words, but still he could hear them. His sense were always on high alert in places like this, because of all the activity and because he could filter almost nothing out. It could get overwhelming at times, but he had been doing better with it. His therapist was helping him.
He stared at the ground mostly, it was rather appealing, watching the little paths of dirt and dust and pebbles. He contented himself with this for a while, walking at a slow pace, not running into anyone (in the literal and figurative sense) and then he stopped, sitting down at a bench he rather liked because of the view it offered of a particular tree. Sebastian knew a lot about a lot. His brain contained an abnormal amount on information for a 15 year old. Botany was not a strong suit for him. he hadn't read much on the subject. One day he would and he would become an instant expert, as was the way with these things and Sebastian.
He contented himself again with silence staring at the tree and, after a few moments, fished his book carefully out of his bag. Othello was one of his favorite Shakespeare plays. he was quite a fan of Shakespeare, because of all the words. he was still terrible with interpretations, the metaphors and often took things literally, botching it up a bit. But they were good enough stories. And Othello was quite the story.
He was an abnormally fast reader as well, his brain processing information much quicker then it had an right to. he flipped through the pages very quickly and after a few minutes he was aware of footsteps approaching him at an average speed for a teenager. he was still focused on his book of course, but he heard the person stop, feet from him, behind him. He continued to flip through the play, no doubt looking rather silly or unbelievable to whoever was standing behind him. This didn't concern Sebastian though, who continued to read as though he didn't know there was someone behind him.