#publickoccurrence

50. where do they see themselves in 2/5/10 years?boy this sure is a hard one to answer.  i think in all cases that can be answered as alive, ideally.  like, hector’s under no illusions, i don’t think, at least as far as canon goes.  he knows how this is going to eventually play out for him.  he’s in his mid-fifties.  he’s got maybe another ten years left to be an active pirate - fifteen or twenty, if he’s supremely lucky and doesn’t end up with arthritis or something else that will compromise his ability to fight - unless he finds some cure-all for mortality.  so alive is the ideal.  alive and still active as a pirate is the dream.  immortality-wise, hopefully still fairly satisfied with his continued existence and not in a nuclear-blasted hellscape (laughs weakly at his fallout aus).

really, hector’s accomplished most of what he’s set out to do.  he’s made and lost literal fortunes.  he’s made a name for himself and that name is going to echo down in his world’s history.  he’s seen things most think are fictional.  he’s been brought back from death itself.  i think, all in all, if he can keep doing what he does for the next ten plus years, he’ll be satisified.  until / unless he comes up with another big plan.

     “’fraid I don’t even have that excuse. A gal could make a case for old age, though.” He smiled wryly, looking down into the untouched, dirty glass of whiskey in his skeletal hands. He didn’t have the equipment to drink it, but he’d learned to find other ways to appreciate things with what senses he had - the way the city lights illuminated it in veins of bronze and gold, old, faded memories of a life long gone, and all the sentimentality that tended to bring. Diamond City at night might not be as pretty as Fenway Park had been in its day, but he could see a beauty many people couldn’t - he could hear the city’s song, wild and discordant though it might be.

     “Ain’t that many people left with the...context, I guess, to appreciate it, but it’s a damned beautiful world, warts and all.” He sighed, looking up at the stadium lights, the glow you could see for miles around, no matter how dark the night. “Sure, the whole thing might be trying to kill you, but it’s a hell of a lot more honest than where Nick came from. Might sound a little funny, saying I like this world better, but there’s hope in it. Real hope. We didn’t have that, before the War. Nobody did.” He chuckled, trying at least a little to lighten the mood, and he leaned over to briefly bump Piper’s shoulder with his own.