[Only half of Junko's words truly register inside his mind. The other half is more like white noise- some slight annoyance in the back of his head. He's still having trouble breathing, and the smell of whatever it is that's slowly burning to a crisp isn't helping. Everything is turning cold. Everything is turning wet. Did he just make it rain inside his apartment? Emotions are the worst.
The last words hit him like a ton of bricks, though. His true self... Now that the proverbial flood gates have opened, that term triggers several emotions all at once. More despair, anger, fear and... Grief? Some old, worn memory dawns on him. Something that Prosecutor Blackquill had uttered in the ruins of Courtroom no. 4.
"What must you see when you look in a mirror, Mr. Phantom? Not an awful lot, I'd wager."
That miserable asshole had him pegged right then and there, even if the Phantom hadn't thought much of it at the time. It's ironic. Someone like Simon Blackquill, who'd spent over seven years just a few steps too far behind, had known exactly what he was he was chasing.]
HEE HEE HEE HEE! HOO HOO HOO! HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!
[He doesn't even know why he's laughing. Maybe it's genuine amusement. Maybe it's his subconsciousness deflecting from the grief. Maybe this is what true, deeply rooted desperation feels like. His hands move from his aching chest to his face, cradling it. His next words will sound a little odd. While it's undoubtedly still Bobby Fulbright, the tone of it is off and it's hampered by something similar to static.]
You should- mind your own business-, Miss Enoshima. There's no injustice- quite like prying- into other people's affairs.
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timeasmymeasure
[Voice]
Date: 2015-07-19 11:24 am (UTC)The last words hit him like a ton of bricks, though. His true self... Now that the proverbial flood gates have opened, that term triggers several emotions all at once. More despair, anger, fear and... Grief? Some old, worn memory dawns on him. Something that Prosecutor Blackquill had uttered in the ruins of Courtroom no. 4.
"What must you see when you look in a mirror, Mr. Phantom? Not an awful lot, I'd wager."
That miserable asshole had him pegged right then and there, even if the Phantom hadn't thought much of it at the time. It's ironic. Someone like Simon Blackquill, who'd spent over seven years just a few steps too far behind, had known exactly what he was he was chasing.]
HEE HEE HEE HEE! HOO HOO HOO! HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!
[He doesn't even know why he's laughing. Maybe it's genuine amusement. Maybe it's his subconsciousness deflecting from the grief. Maybe this is what true, deeply rooted desperation feels like. His hands move from his aching chest to his face, cradling it. His next words will sound a little odd. While it's undoubtedly still Bobby Fulbright, the tone of it is off and it's hampered by something similar to static.]
You should- mind your own business-, Miss Enoshima. There's no injustice- quite like prying- into other people's affairs.