[He appreciates the poetic imagery. Honestly, as coarse as he can be, there's still something to him that leans towards it, like a withered plant to sunlight. He stares and thinks for a long moment. Regret, guilt, shame. Emotions that feel like old friends. Or old enemies? They haunt him, regardless.]
...I had a dream I kept to my heart, I will admit. But I'm like any Fixer. I abandoned that as a dream and nothing more. I follow the highs and lows, the winding path. The flow. But that stalled and weakened after a...certain point.
[A pause.]
I've seen the ugliness of the City like nothing else. I contributed to it. I spilled blood time and time again. I made mistakes that can't be erased. That dream was held in despite of it all. But in the end, backed into a corner, there wasn't darkness. There was...light.
[And a voice, a sweet voice, so warm, so inviting, and...]
But I turned away from that. It would've destroyed me, suffocated me. Distorted me. I have a new "flow", so to speak. The City keeps turning, true, in its own hateful way. But I'll still follow what I have. [A beat.] Ah, look at me. I've said too much.
[It's so vague one wonders if he said anything at all.]
no subject
[He appreciates the poetic imagery. Honestly, as coarse as he can be, there's still something to him that leans towards it, like a withered plant to sunlight. He stares and thinks for a long moment. Regret, guilt, shame. Emotions that feel like old friends. Or old enemies? They haunt him, regardless.]
...I had a dream I kept to my heart, I will admit. But I'm like any Fixer. I abandoned that as a dream and nothing more. I follow the highs and lows, the winding path. The flow. But that stalled and weakened after a...certain point.
[A pause.]
I've seen the ugliness of the City like nothing else. I contributed to it. I spilled blood time and time again. I made mistakes that can't be erased. That dream was held in despite of it all. But in the end, backed into a corner, there wasn't darkness. There was...light.
[And a voice, a sweet voice, so warm, so inviting, and...]
But I turned away from that. It would've destroyed me, suffocated me. Distorted me. I have a new "flow", so to speak. The City keeps turning, true, in its own hateful way. But I'll still follow what I have. [A beat.] Ah, look at me. I've said too much.
[It's so vague one wonders if he said anything at all.]