you’ve gone soft. I hope you know that. You don’t strike fear into anyone anymore. It’s kind of sad.
be mean ; ACCEPTING ]
"For fuck's sake, I KNOW!"
There it is.
Another hole in the wall.
His fist stays there, his arm trembling.
Blood drips from the reopened wounds.
"I know, I KNOW, I FUCKING KNOW!
Y'all are a bunch of broken records! Ya think I didn't notice that?! That I didn't realize that nobody gives a goddamn shit?!
Ohh, Guzma, you're such a good friend! Such a little puppy! Look at me I'm some SIX PIECE McNOBODY COMIN' IN CAUSIN' HAVOC HURTIN' 'N KILLIN' KIDS, WHO GIVES A GODDAMN FUCKIN'-!"
...oh, that's a chair in his arms-
"--SHIT!"
--and now it's thrown on the floor, destroyed in thousand, small pieces.
Guzma pants, growls, stares at the pieces of wood and splinters at his feet for the longest seconds before his back find the same wall he destroyed a second before, pressing against it and sliding down, his hands now on his eyes, his hair, fingers tugging at them.
He's so fucking pissed off.
"...so what. I'm a fuckin' joke.
I got that the first goddamn two-thousand times I said that."
A moment of silence.
More heavy breaths, akin to a beast more than a person.
One of his hands return to his eyes.
"Fuck everything."
Fall on his sides.
"Fuck fuck fuck fuuuuck it all, really."
One is lifted, tired, punching the wall once more.
"I should've stayed in Ultra Space and let those jellyfishes eat me alive."
And down it goes, along it twin, slumped down at 'Destruction in human form's side.
A parody of his former self - or a bad copy of who he used to be before he showed his fangs to the world.
A corpse moving by inertia, as far as he's concerned.
