[He spits, setting her with a harsh look. Nicer? No. Less gruesome? ...Sort of. There are certainly bad things that happen in the world outside of Alola. There's still crime, people die, pokemon die, sometimes to the hands of the other, but those sorts of things simply aren't as commonplace in Alola. They don't occur often. They occur, yes, but Guzma hasn't been in a place of experience with anything like death, dismemberment, or actual torture. He's a hoodlum and a thug, not some wicked ass cultist or whatever. He hasn't killed anyone, despite having bloodied his knuckles a great deal.
Despite having every intent to, perhaps, in a memory he was forced to relive. Despite everything. despite everything.
He hasn't killed anyone. Not yet, and hopefully not ever.]
Surviving. [He grunts, more toward the fire than her face, though he glances back. He has been in that boat before himself - runaways aren't exactly fed Peking duck or sturgeon caviar or whatever. They down't sleep in goose down beds, they fight for everything, because no one wants them, or they can't properly live in the place supposed to be home.] Y'all is surviving, not living.
[There's a difference. A big difference. Guzma hums to himself, rolling his lips only to spit into the fire. Sorry, but he needs to get the taste of vomit out of his mouth.] ...No pets, nah, never considered my pokemon like that. Partners, is what I call 'em, and I got two here - five normally.
Some been with me since I was a snotty, little, know-nothing brat.
no subject
[He spits, setting her with a harsh look. Nicer? No. Less gruesome? ...Sort of. There are certainly bad things that happen in the world outside of Alola. There's still crime, people die, pokemon die, sometimes to the hands of the other, but those sorts of things simply aren't as commonplace in Alola. They don't occur often. They occur, yes, but Guzma hasn't been in a place of experience with anything like death, dismemberment, or actual torture. He's a hoodlum and a thug, not some wicked ass cultist or whatever. He hasn't killed anyone, despite having bloodied his knuckles a great deal.
Despite having every intent to, perhaps, in a memory he was forced to relive. Despite everything. despite everything.
He hasn't killed anyone. Not yet, and hopefully not ever.]
Surviving. [He grunts, more toward the fire than her face, though he glances back. He has been in that boat before himself - runaways aren't exactly fed Peking duck or sturgeon caviar or whatever. They down't sleep in goose down beds, they fight for everything, because no one wants them, or they can't properly live in the place supposed to be home.] Y'all is surviving, not living.
[There's a difference. A big difference. Guzma hums to himself, rolling his lips only to spit into the fire. Sorry, but he needs to get the taste of vomit out of his mouth.] ...No pets, nah, never considered my pokemon like that. Partners, is what I call 'em, and I got two here - five normally.
Some been with me since I was a snotty, little, know-nothing brat.