[The voice fizzles away to nothing with a click and a hum of static. The absence of noise is just enough to jolt Diavolo; a sudden change in environment is never a good sign. He feels no pain except for the dull ache where his nails dig into his flesh. If he's dying, he thinks, then the act is being dragged out far too long.
It wouldn't be the first time.
(Why would he be dying?)
In his head, the woman's droning words don't stop. They catch and repeat like a broken record, looping without end. It takes a moment to realize that there's another noise mixed in, and longer still to recognize that the desperate sound comes from him. He could have believed this wasn't real, that this was only a dream, a fleeting and pointless thought if not for that visceral reaction.
It's a whimper, pathetic and utterly mortifying in its misery, and the first move he makes is to press a palm hard against his lips to ensure that it never happens again. The countermeasure is only half-effective; more noise spills out, muffled now yet still painfully obvious.]
give him a moment to recognize doppio; he's bluescreened and is rebooting
It wouldn't be the first time.
(Why would he be dying?)
In his head, the woman's droning words don't stop. They catch and repeat like a broken record, looping without end. It takes a moment to realize that there's another noise mixed in, and longer still to recognize that the desperate sound comes from him. He could have believed this wasn't real, that this was only a dream, a fleeting and pointless thought if not for that visceral reaction.
It's a whimper, pathetic and utterly mortifying in its misery, and the first move he makes is to press a palm hard against his lips to ensure that it never happens again. The countermeasure is only half-effective; more noise spills out, muffled now yet still painfully obvious.]