[Guzma is an ever flowing fountain of strength and determination, and should this have gone on any longer it's clear who would have won the scuffle, but there wouldn't have been any real winners. However, like the dark trainer he is, Nanu plays dirty, but like the man Guzma is, it's a language he knows and understands. Physical potshots aren't the way to go, that just fuels Guzma, it keeps him going, gives him fuel for his inferno of a temper. It continues to muddy the point, and knocks it further from reach.
Before Guzma knows what to do, or how to react his mind is taken over by this all encompassing memory. One that's decidedly not his. One that plays out like a nightmare before his eyes—no, not his. Nanu's. The surge of emotions, the fear grips him hard. Harder than Nanu's actual hands, and the emotional weight hits him in equal measure.
The panic, the hopelessness, the loss.
It all spirals within him, and surges through him as he experiences this horror show of a memory, this brutal death of a woman at the mouths of an Ultra Beast. The very things he had agreed to help Lusamine acquire, that he assisted in unleashing on Alola. That he so carelessly joked about to Anabel, unknowing of the tragedy behind their viciousness.
New found realization and understanding slams into him with a force that rivals the beatings from his childhood. The pain is all consuming, and even as it fades away, with flashes of other memories, of Anabel, of the Ultra Beasts, all of it, the dread lingers. The intensity of it all leaves him emotionally shook.
As he comes back to reality, he's left breathing at pace with Nanu, hard and heavy. His strength is far from spent, but he feels weak, his anger far gone now. The silence is heavy, but no where near as heavy as the guilt he now knows Nanu bears. He can't even complain about the pain of the hand on his jaw, with how tight it's holding him.
For his part, he releases Nanu's arm: his wordless surrender.]
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[Guzma is an ever flowing fountain of strength and determination, and should this have gone on any longer it's clear who would have won the scuffle, but there wouldn't have been any real winners. However, like the dark trainer he is, Nanu plays dirty, but like the man Guzma is, it's a language he knows and understands. Physical potshots aren't the way to go, that just fuels Guzma, it keeps him going, gives him fuel for his inferno of a temper. It continues to muddy the point, and knocks it further from reach.
Before Guzma knows what to do, or how to react his mind is taken over by this all encompassing memory. One that's decidedly not his. One that plays out like a nightmare before his eyes—no, not his. Nanu's. The surge of emotions, the fear grips him hard. Harder than Nanu's actual hands, and the emotional weight hits him in equal measure.
The panic, the hopelessness, the loss.
It all spirals within him, and surges through him as he experiences this horror show of a memory, this brutal death of a woman at the mouths of an Ultra Beast. The very things he had agreed to help Lusamine acquire, that he assisted in unleashing on Alola. That he so carelessly joked about to Anabel, unknowing of the tragedy behind their viciousness.
New found realization and understanding slams into him with a force that rivals the beatings from his childhood. The pain is all consuming, and even as it fades away, with flashes of other memories, of Anabel, of the Ultra Beasts, all of it, the dread lingers. The intensity of it all leaves him emotionally shook.
As he comes back to reality, he's left breathing at pace with Nanu, hard and heavy. His strength is far from spent, but he feels weak, his anger far gone now. The silence is heavy, but no where near as heavy as the guilt he now knows Nanu bears. He can't even complain about the pain of the hand on his jaw, with how tight it's holding him.
For his part, he releases Nanu's arm: his wordless surrender.]