[Isn't something about this chillingly familiar? Memories are bleeding together. Nothing makes sense. This was all impulse, a half-formed idea, if even that. Wasn't it supposed to be different? Why is the priest walking towards them at all — why does he speak, why does he say that?
If it was him alone, he could handle this. But it's painfully clear that something is wrong with Doppio. His breathing is erratic, his movements anxious, his words strained, and the sum of it makes Diavolo ache. He's getting exactly the result he wanted, but it doesn't feel like the victory he expected.
Instead, it feels a little like guilt.]
Enough. Leave.
[He doesn't quite know how the room operates, he didn't pay enough attention to understand. All he can do is growl out a command to the priest and hope he obeys. It doesn't feel like enough. If he could do something more—
He doesn't feel it happen the way he should, no warm and familiar surge of energy beneath his skin, but King Crimson manifests at his subconscious call all the same, shielding them both from the memory.]
no subject
If it was him alone, he could handle this. But it's painfully clear that something is wrong with Doppio. His breathing is erratic, his movements anxious, his words strained, and the sum of it makes Diavolo ache. He's getting exactly the result he wanted, but it doesn't feel like the victory he expected.
Instead, it feels a little like guilt.]
Enough. Leave.
[He doesn't quite know how the room operates, he didn't pay enough attention to understand. All he can do is growl out a command to the priest and hope he obeys. It doesn't feel like enough. If he could do something more—
He doesn't feel it happen the way he should, no warm and familiar surge of energy beneath his skin, but King Crimson manifests at his subconscious call all the same, shielding them both from the memory.]