Post by Sam on Jul 3, 2020 11:23:56 GMT -5
The pirate held the cigarette in his hands... now just a bud. His vision looking past Isaac and at something in the distance. As much as Myles hated it the Marine had posed a good question. Was this all really worth it? On one hand, if he hadn't he'd now be dead.
But on the other the day he'd been released and garnered his revenge Eric had and his gang had also massacred innocents as they went around the island. All so Myles could take the life of one man. Up until recently this Marine... this Isaac fellow was quite. It would seem like he was listening to Myles' every word. That was up until this question that he made which put the pirate's mind in a tug of war. "Well?" Isaac inquired... it seemed he didn't want to waste more time.
"I'm not sure anymore. Maybe dying was better than joining them."
Myles frowned letting out a sigh of pain as he spoke those words. They were harsh but that's how he felt. It was a simple fact of life, he wasn't sure about anything. He was confused and confounded about it all. Was his dream really worth all the bloodshed? Myles for a fact knew he wasn't a good guy... but at the same time, he didn't quite feel like the bad guy. He felt somewhere in the middle and that fact was what truly confused him. To the World Government he was nothing but a monster... to the Slayers he was nothing but an asset. To his family, he might as well not exist. Quite frankly, Myles was not only confounded in his position but he was also fairly alone. Or at least that's how he felt.
"When you're born a slave, life gives you little choices."
He explains to the marine. Although in fairness Myles didn't know who this man before him was. What his background was... where he came from. The pirate still felt like this stoic figure would likely not understand him. Why would he? He was a Marine with a title who probably came from an average family or from a rich family. There were so many Marines like that, Marines that used their social position to climb the ladder of the hierarchy. For all Myles knew this was one of those Marines.
"I don't know. Maybe I'm justifying things that aren't worthy of justification. In the end, what's done is done and I can't go back to fix them."
Myles shrugged, he crushed the cigarette bud between his fingers turning the remaining bits into piles of ash. The stinging feeling of minor burns in his fingers was nothing to him... small wounds that would heal with time. Perhaps it was the same with his situation. Maybe with time, he would learn a lot more about his position in the world and what he was meant to do. One thing for sure, he didn't want to give up now.
But on the other the day he'd been released and garnered his revenge Eric had and his gang had also massacred innocents as they went around the island. All so Myles could take the life of one man. Up until recently this Marine... this Isaac fellow was quite. It would seem like he was listening to Myles' every word. That was up until this question that he made which put the pirate's mind in a tug of war. "Well?" Isaac inquired... it seemed he didn't want to waste more time.
"I'm not sure anymore. Maybe dying was better than joining them."
Myles frowned letting out a sigh of pain as he spoke those words. They were harsh but that's how he felt. It was a simple fact of life, he wasn't sure about anything. He was confused and confounded about it all. Was his dream really worth all the bloodshed? Myles for a fact knew he wasn't a good guy... but at the same time, he didn't quite feel like the bad guy. He felt somewhere in the middle and that fact was what truly confused him. To the World Government he was nothing but a monster... to the Slayers he was nothing but an asset. To his family, he might as well not exist. Quite frankly, Myles was not only confounded in his position but he was also fairly alone. Or at least that's how he felt.
"When you're born a slave, life gives you little choices."
He explains to the marine. Although in fairness Myles didn't know who this man before him was. What his background was... where he came from. The pirate still felt like this stoic figure would likely not understand him. Why would he? He was a Marine with a title who probably came from an average family or from a rich family. There were so many Marines like that, Marines that used their social position to climb the ladder of the hierarchy. For all Myles knew this was one of those Marines.
"I don't know. Maybe I'm justifying things that aren't worthy of justification. In the end, what's done is done and I can't go back to fix them."
Myles shrugged, he crushed the cigarette bud between his fingers turning the remaining bits into piles of ash. The stinging feeling of minor burns in his fingers was nothing to him... small wounds that would heal with time. Perhaps it was the same with his situation. Maybe with time, he would learn a lot more about his position in the world and what he was meant to do. One thing for sure, he didn't want to give up now.