Snippet #6
Jul. 11th, 2003 03:30 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
gilascaveBatman
The cave is more his home than any other place on earth. He knows this, faces it calmly. Sees nothing in its psychosis that he has to address. There are worse things in his psyche than a preference for a large, underground cave.
He fills it with mementos, ranging from the infinitesimal to the gigantic. He doesn't know why, really, because he spends less time analysing certain of his motives than most of the people who know him would wish. Souvenirs, perhaps, or just indulging in the packrat within him which says 'keep this, keep everything.'
Or perhaps it's just because this is his home, and he wants to be surrounded by the things which matter to him. Things like remembrances of those he's saved. Remembrances of those he failed.
Anyone who has ever been in the cave has, eventually, wandered among his possessions. Sometimes there are questions, sometimes there are just long, worried looks. He ignores them both, because there is nothing he needs to say about them. No one who needs to know, who has to bother asking.
He, of course, never bothers walking among them. He doesn't look them over, doesn't treasure them or enjoy them the way he knows they suspect of him when he's alone. He knows what is there, where each piece is, and what it represents. They fill his cave, but they aren't what is truly important to him.
Those things, he has sent from the cave, time and time again.
The cave is more his home than any other place on earth. He knows this, faces it calmly. Sees nothing in its psychosis that he has to address. There are worse things in his psyche than a preference for a large, underground cave.
He fills it with mementos, ranging from the infinitesimal to the gigantic. He doesn't know why, really, because he spends less time analysing certain of his motives than most of the people who know him would wish. Souvenirs, perhaps, or just indulging in the packrat within him which says 'keep this, keep everything.'
Or perhaps it's just because this is his home, and he wants to be surrounded by the things which matter to him. Things like remembrances of those he's saved. Remembrances of those he failed.
Anyone who has ever been in the cave has, eventually, wandered among his possessions. Sometimes there are questions, sometimes there are just long, worried looks. He ignores them both, because there is nothing he needs to say about them. No one who needs to know, who has to bother asking.
He, of course, never bothers walking among them. He doesn't look them over, doesn't treasure them or enjoy them the way he knows they suspect of him when he's alone. He knows what is there, where each piece is, and what it represents. They fill his cave, but they aren't what is truly important to him.
Those things, he has sent from the cave, time and time again.