Christ, I don't know what your standards are, Lark. The last time someone said they were going to fix me permanently, I was fully expecting some fucker with a butcher knife to come down to Zero and cut my hands off.
Yeah, well. Congratulations to the two of us for being against torture.
I know people look at you like you're supposed to fix me. That's not an easy position to be in because I'm a stubborn asshole who hates everyone and everything here. I don't believe in this whole inmate-and-warden shit but I know other people hold it as fucking gospel.
Is it wrong to be sort of happy that you're taking a backseat and letting Zack come at me?
I don't know why I am. It just feels more...I don't know. He's got a problem with me, he should see me about it. I'm not ten and you aren't my dad.
Well, I'm a misanthrope who hates everybody here, up to and including myself. I don't want to be here but I also don't want to be alive again, ever, and no one here will listen when I tell them, often loudly and on repeat. I answer violence with violence because even though that's the only thing that I've ever seen work, here everyone is at least four hundred years into my future where everyone is somehow nicer and more reasonable and better-smelling and appalled at the idea of answering killing with killing.
I get the sense that if I'm going to graduate, it's going to be me learning not to hate everyone on principle. It'll also be something about accepting the idea that a fucking necromancer not only didn't resurrect any of my family, he chose to separate me from them, and also bring back Dracula, the man who murdered tens of thousands, from the grave, and drag along my two closest friends to guilt me into accepting coming back from the dead with him.
And I'm tired. I'm so tired of this shit, Lark. I wanted to rest in peace. Adrian carved my gravestone and Sypha is pregnant, so I did my duty and I want to just accept my final fucking reward and go sit in Hell with my parents and sisters.
And instead I'm here. Getting into pissing contests with godlings about not murdering more humans because I can't stop doing the right thing even when I'm fucking dead and it's pointless.
I am working with wardens. I'm working with you, aren't I? And Adrian. And Dracula, and Jon and a handful of others. And I work with inmates, Hunter and Elias and even Envy.
I just hate Zack. And Shen Wei, and Ye Zun and Daniel. I'm allowed to not like people when they do shit to me or others.
I never said you have to like anyone. I'm asking for your input on the consequences given to people who hurt others. For your ideas, beyond the ineffective measures of violence.
I'll remind you that death is supposed to be a long-term solution that the Admiral's gone and fucked up. So until that solves itself, short-term solutions are fine.
You mean help turn sadistic murdering assholes into good people, somehow, so that we can send them back to the places where they were sadistic murdering assholes instead of letting them die.
How does that help the people they victimized, again?
Yes, the same bastards you're trying to avenge. This isn't about justice for you at all, is it? You're angry and you just want something to hit, so you dress it up as being part of your duty or your code of honor.
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I want him to understand that if he kills someone who can’t defend themselves, I’m going to kill him.
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He needs something more lasting here.
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…I did get a few priests in the eye and slice off some fingers, sorry. I was hungover and they were trying to murder an old man.
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You think that's where I was going with this? Goddamn, Trevor.
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I know people look at you like you're supposed to fix me. That's not an easy position to be in because I'm a stubborn asshole who hates everyone and everything here. I don't believe in this whole inmate-and-warden shit but I know other people hold it as fucking gospel.
Is it wrong to be sort of happy that you're taking a backseat and letting Zack come at me?
I don't know why I am. It just feels more...I don't know. He's got a problem with me, he should see me about it. I'm not ten and you aren't my dad.
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I'm curious--what do you think we're trying to 'fix'?
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Well, I'm a misanthrope who hates everybody here, up to and including myself. I don't want to be here but I also don't want to be alive again, ever, and no one here will listen when I tell them, often loudly and on repeat. I answer violence with violence because even though that's the only thing that I've ever seen work, here everyone is at least four hundred years into my future where everyone is somehow nicer and more reasonable and better-smelling and appalled at the idea of answering killing with killing.
I get the sense that if I'm going to graduate, it's going to be me learning not to hate everyone on principle. It'll also be something about accepting the idea that a fucking necromancer not only didn't resurrect any of my family, he chose to separate me from them, and also bring back Dracula, the man who murdered tens of thousands, from the grave, and drag along my two closest friends to guilt me into accepting coming back from the dead with him.
And I'm tired. I'm so tired of this shit, Lark. I wanted to rest in peace. Adrian carved my gravestone and Sypha is pregnant, so I did my duty and I want to just accept my final fucking reward and go sit in Hell with my parents and sisters.
And instead I'm here. Getting into pissing contests with godlings about not murdering more humans because I can't stop doing the right thing even when I'm fucking dead and it's pointless.
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Work with us. Work with the wardens to do something other than nothing.
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I just hate Zack. And Shen Wei, and Ye Zun and Daniel. I'm allowed to not like people when they do shit to me or others.
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How does that help the people they victimized, again?
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It stopped me from killing millions.
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Yeah? How? There aren't millions on this boat. And you'd have to be alive first to go back home and kill millions.
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But I'm more tired than angry. And I'm tired of trying to find new ways to stop old killers when that's all I am, too.
Especially when you haven't given me any reason why I should apart from you believing it to be the right thing and me disagreeing.
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