"I could not ever ask your forgiveness.." He wanted add on 'love', 'Hawk', 'Marian'. Anything to make it sound less impersonal than it did, but once again he just let his words hang in the air. He toyed with a hangnail, and became fixated on his hands. They were dirty, nails chipped and skin cracking. These hands had done so much bad that it was hard to think of any good they had ever done; healing, carrying, supporting, anything he could do for Hawke he considered good.
Maybe he was an abomination. Maybe he wasn't. He'd heard tales of Flemeth, a woman who was an abomination, but retained her mind (though some would disagree). He thought of when he'd merged with the spirit; killing Rolan and the others with his bare hands and realizing that there was no place for his kind, whatever his kind was.
He stood, feeling joints pop, and moved toward the edge of the boat to stand quietly. He spoke just loud enough for Marian to hear,
"All I can ask is that you understand that I've tried..." He paused to think. "I tried the peaceful ways. My manifestos, my words, my deeds, but..." How do you justify the actions that seemed to only make sense to you? He leaned heavily on the edge of the boat, feeling so tired. "Every time... There are more Karl's, more Ella's-" he winced at the girls' name. How close he'd come to... "More children ripped from their parents, never to see them again, and for what? Because... Because people fear us? I am to live my life in solitude and loneliness, hoping that some Templar doesn't find me and drag me to Tower because I was healing the forgotten people of Darktown?"
He stopped himself from going further. If Marian wanted to stop him, she could. He would understand.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2013-06-21 12:29 am (UTC)Maybe he was an abomination. Maybe he wasn't. He'd heard tales of Flemeth, a woman who was an abomination, but retained her mind (though some would disagree). He thought of when he'd merged with the spirit; killing Rolan and the others with his bare hands and realizing that there was no place for his kind, whatever his kind was.
He stood, feeling joints pop, and moved toward the edge of the boat to stand quietly. He spoke just loud enough for Marian to hear,
"All I can ask is that you understand that I've tried..." He paused to think. "I tried the peaceful ways. My manifestos, my words, my deeds, but..." How do you justify the actions that seemed to only make sense to you? He leaned heavily on the edge of the boat, feeling so tired. "Every time... There are more Karl's, more Ella's-" he winced at the girls' name. How close he'd come to... "More children ripped from their parents, never to see them again, and for what? Because... Because people fear us? I am to live my life in solitude and loneliness, hoping that some Templar doesn't find me and drag me to Tower because I was healing the forgotten people of Darktown?"
He stopped himself from going further. If Marian wanted to stop him, she could. He would understand.