Remorse, yes... [ tseng laughs, low and hollow. ] And yet I have every intention of sinning again.
[ the right of absolution may be sacrosanct, but tseng still knows he shouldn't have come here at all. he has no right to ask for forgiveness when tomorrow he'll be back on the streets doing exactly what it is he's asking forgiveness for. his hands are filthy with blood, his guilt so heavy he can't hold it in both hands. it tastes like ash on his tongue.
to be asked so direct a question is—surprising. at all the confessions tseng has ever attended (although to be fair, there have been few), the ritual was almost scripted: tseng says this, the priest says that, and he leaves the church feeling marginally lighter, if only for a moment. but this priest's voice sounds young, and his question sounds genuine, which is enough to startle tseng into answering honestly: ]
Only in several body bags, I think. [ either his own, or those of the men who own him. ] The Family owns me. It's not a life you walk away from.
no subject
[ the right of absolution may be sacrosanct, but tseng still knows he shouldn't have come here at all. he has no right to ask for forgiveness when tomorrow he'll be back on the streets doing exactly what it is he's asking forgiveness for. his hands are filthy with blood, his guilt so heavy he can't hold it in both hands. it tastes like ash on his tongue.
to be asked so direct a question is—surprising. at all the confessions tseng has ever attended (although to be fair, there have been few), the ritual was almost scripted: tseng says this, the priest says that, and he leaves the church feeling marginally lighter, if only for a moment. but this priest's voice sounds young, and his question sounds genuine, which is enough to startle tseng into answering honestly: ]
Only in several body bags, I think. [ either his own, or those of the men who own him. ] The Family owns me. It's not a life you walk away from.