[ it's easier to show her than try to explain it. the memory is pretty easy to bring up: it's the first time he awakened Arsene. both him and Ryuji had been running through a Palace, lost on the first day of the new semester. the man with the yellow eyes, speedo and flaunty cape was their gym teacher.
despite where they are, Ren doesn't seem to know what's going on. then a voice reaches out to him on a flutter of a butterfly wing.
This is truly an unjust game. Your chances of winning are almost none. But if my voice is reaching you, there may yet be a possibility open to you ...
then comes the rush. the churn of his stomach, the pounding in his head. it's hard to keep his eyesight straight, even when he glares at Kamoshida. there's a combination of adrenaline and anxiety that push down the fear, and a memory that he knows very well. reaching out to try and help someone, and being taken away by the police, thrown in the backseat of a police car.
Was your previous decision a mistake then?
no. it wasn't. it wasn't—and he repeats that in his brain when the searing pain comes, when Arsene awakens from his own former doubtful thoughts through the shake of shackles and a wicked grin of full, demonic teeth. there's a mask that sticks to his face, as if it's part of the flesh. desperately he pulls at it, and with it, the reservations of how he views himself to all others in a toxic society. liquid drips down his cheeks and he doesn't care. instead, the release comes with a rush of power. it feels good. ]
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despite where they are, Ren doesn't seem to know what's going on. then a voice reaches out to him on a flutter of a butterfly wing.
This is truly an unjust game. Your chances of winning are almost none. But if my voice is reaching you, there may yet be a possibility open to you ...
then comes the rush. the churn of his stomach, the pounding in his head. it's hard to keep his eyesight straight, even when he glares at Kamoshida. there's a combination of adrenaline and anxiety that push down the fear, and a memory that he knows very well. reaching out to try and help someone, and being taken away by the police, thrown in the backseat of a police car.
Was your previous decision a mistake then?
no. it wasn't. it wasn't—and he repeats that in his brain when the searing pain comes, when Arsene awakens from his own former doubtful thoughts through the shake of shackles and a wicked grin of full, demonic teeth. there's a mask that sticks to his face, as if it's part of the flesh. desperately he pulls at it, and with it, the reservations of how he views himself to all others in a toxic society. liquid drips down his cheeks and he doesn't care. instead, the release comes with a rush of power. it feels good. ]