Not just to listen to - which it is - but the heavy content of it all. Daryl doesn't think subliminal messaging or mind control, nor the abuse of it, is an altogether far-fetched notion. The CIA tried damn hard with MK Ultra ultra, its predecessors, and whatever secret followups were going on, lost to time with the collapse of society. And that's just one period of time, in one country. In one world. (Man, what a trip to consider.)
Mostly, he just thinks it sounds sad. Starting with kids like that. His expression doesn't change much, but there's a flicker of regret.
Life's hard enough, at that age.
... 'Big breasted psycho bitch', though, that is uuuh, something. Daryl briefly remembers a strange moment, one he hasn't considered at all since it happened: way back in the farmhouse before it burned, just trying to get some water out of the kitchen while Andrea bitterly asserted that no one would be making such a fuss over who was fucking Lori if she weren't so pretty. Imagine if everyone looked like that, then there'd be no use fighting, they'd just divvy us up, and Daryl hadn't known what to say. He thought everyone looked fine, and had not factored such a thing into the tension surrounding poor Lori's personal life and her desire to be free of having to trade control for safety. The vehemence of her accusation had caught him off guard, like the content of Fukawa's remarks do now, at the end of that. People care so much about the strangest shit at the wildest times.
Anyway. Doesn't matter. What an odd tangent for his brain to go down, even for a second. He almost fidgets. He hasn't thought of either woman in a while. He wonders if dead people would appear here. ]
no subject
Not just to listen to - which it is - but the heavy content of it all. Daryl doesn't think subliminal messaging or mind control, nor the abuse of it, is an altogether far-fetched notion. The CIA tried damn hard with MK Ultra ultra, its predecessors, and whatever secret followups were going on, lost to time with the collapse of society. And that's just one period of time, in one country. In one world. (Man, what a trip to consider.)
Mostly, he just thinks it sounds sad. Starting with kids like that. His expression doesn't change much, but there's a flicker of regret.
Life's hard enough, at that age.
... 'Big breasted psycho bitch', though, that is uuuh, something. Daryl briefly remembers a strange moment, one he hasn't considered at all since it happened: way back in the farmhouse before it burned, just trying to get some water out of the kitchen while Andrea bitterly asserted that no one would be making such a fuss over who was fucking Lori if she weren't so pretty. Imagine if everyone looked like that, then there'd be no use fighting, they'd just divvy us up, and Daryl hadn't known what to say. He thought everyone looked fine, and had not factored such a thing into the tension surrounding poor Lori's personal life and her desire to be free of having to trade control for safety. The vehemence of her accusation had caught him off guard, like the content of Fukawa's remarks do now, at the end of that. People care so much about the strangest shit at the wildest times.
Anyway. Doesn't matter. What an odd tangent for his brain to go down, even for a second. He almost fidgets. He hasn't thought of either woman in a while. He wonders if dead people would appear here. ]
Did you want to fight?