[He sees it there, or thinks he does, the little spark of interest. Unexpected, maybe, but then, these rich people-- they have a tendency towards the eccentric. At least, it's how it seems to him. Their wants and desires seem a distant, alien thing to him, nothing he can fully comprehend. Living the kinds of lives they do, able to do whatever they please, he finds it a hard thing to imagine. Doesn't especially want to.
He asks another question, and Giovanni's smile is a small sharp thing. Wonders how much he should be saying here, how much he ought to reveal. But this is a comparatively small thing, and he supposes he can be truthful with it.]
Yes, I suppose they did. Although perhaps emotionless isn't quite the right word.
[It's more that they conditioned him towards a love of violence, to relish it, to let it wash over him in clear sharp waves, push him towards animal joy.
But he feels other things, too. Things he isn't supposed to feel. A fact he intends to keep entirely to himself.]
no subject
He asks another question, and Giovanni's smile is a small sharp thing. Wonders how much he should be saying here, how much he ought to reveal. But this is a comparatively small thing, and he supposes he can be truthful with it.]
Yes, I suppose they did. Although perhaps emotionless isn't quite the right word.
[It's more that they conditioned him towards a love of violence, to relish it, to let it wash over him in clear sharp waves, push him towards animal joy.
But he feels other things, too. Things he isn't supposed to feel. A fact he intends to keep entirely to himself.]