[Guzma sighs, closes his eyes, and takes a long look at the image in front of him - his supposed 'present'...or is it somewhere in his upcoming future? It seems seems make believe, an illusion, and he's sure if he even really wants to believe it or not. They came with him. His Pokemon, his pokeballs... When he died, they came with him. They were probably killed too. The devices that holds the creatures are powerful, can withstand a whole lot, but the pressure of a black hole seems like a stretch.
He rubs his face with one hand, dragging his fingers through his white hair and moving it back against his skull. Is he glad to be alive? Yeah, he is. He can see his friends and 'family' again, but it doesn't negate that he left them like that. That he was betrayed so easily by a specter of someone he cared about. Again, he foolishly put his faith in people only to be stabbed in the back by them later.
That sort of recurring pain makes the living world seem a bit...lackluster.]
Man... [He rubs his face again, with both hands.] I don't know shit right now.
no subject
He rubs his face with one hand, dragging his fingers through his white hair and moving it back against his skull. Is he glad to be alive? Yeah, he is. He can see his friends and 'family' again, but it doesn't negate that he left them like that. That he was betrayed so easily by a specter of someone he cared about. Again, he foolishly put his faith in people only to be stabbed in the back by them later.
That sort of recurring pain makes the living world seem a bit...lackluster.]
Man... [He rubs his face again, with both hands.] I don't know shit right now.
[Or if he even wants to talk about it right now.]