[Kavinsky's already experienced fundamental replacement. There used to be a heart in his chest, a soul curled around it, a pile of organ-like metaphors clustered within him. He's replaced them with gasoline and lit matches. The idea of a metal arm doesn't bring with him any panging sense that he'd miss his flesh limb; he just thinks of all the ways he could manipulate the metal. What if he had a buzzsaw in place of a hand?]
Is this a do as I do, not what I say thing, man? Your argument's weak when you're doing all that.
[Sick. The crunch and bite. The way the pod is so simply dismantled.]
no subject
Is this a do as I do, not what I say thing, man? Your argument's weak when you're doing all that.
[Sick. The crunch and bite. The way the pod is so simply dismantled.]