[If this whole thing wasn't muddied by the lie of a Pokèmon's death, Guzma would likely have been able to look back and laugh about the whole thing. Unfortunately it's been soured, but for a good reason. Guzma is, in a sense, a "visual" learner, and Nanu in a sense certainly made him visualize how he made Anabel feel.
Unfortunately, it just took a dirty tactic to do it that has left both of them feeling awful about it all.]
What I deserve?! What the hell did I ever do to you, old man!? This can't be about no teasin' I ever done to you, even you ain't that fragile.
[With that other hand on his shoulder, Guzma finds new determination to break free. He's big, and has youth on Nanu to boot, so it's only a matter of time.
With Nanu mentioning Hala, that speeds things up and Guzma suddenly twists himself towards Nanu—turning on the side of his captured arm, which allows him to unlock its position and swing his unbound fist at the smaller man. He's aiming for his face, but considering his punch is during his twist, his accuracy might not be the best, and the hook is wide. Should he miss, that'd definitely give Nanu the chance to counter him.
Guzma clearly has no interest in settling this over Pokèmon, this shit's gone too personal, and he's way too mad at the moment to even conduct a battle.]
[Nanu had meant it when he said he couldn't make it any worse—at least, here in Empatheias. He couldn't claim to have done anything to anyone Guzma knows here, not that it would have made a bigger impact; nor could he claim something about someone closer to him, like Plumeria. He's not going to forget the horrible feeling of claiming he stomped a pokémon to jelly anytime soon...but he's claimed worse, and seen worse. It used to be part of his job, and he's far past becoming desensitized to doing horrible things.]
[The area keeps heating up, thanks to both Guzma and Nanu's emotional output. But something else changes, courtesy of Nanu's specific brand of intensity. Everything around them is going...dark. As if night is falling, and the there's a spotlight only shone on the two. It's gradual and subtle, without going pitch-black. Just enough to visually represent the rest of the world being dulled to their senses as they focus on each other's misery.]
[Guzma's swing misses Nanu's face, but clips his arm - the same arm where he'd gotten it in the shoulder mere moments before. With grit teeth, he manages to suppress any vocalization of pain; he's not giving Guzma the satisfaction. Nor is he going to counter with any sort of offense of his own. For him, it's defense and restraint. Hurting Guzma physically isn't what he wants.]
[So he uses that hold on Guzma's shoulder, pinching with his entire hand. He intends to use that as a brief distraction, so he can grab at the hand that was just swung at him. Just another hold to buy time as they "chat"; Nanu's own grip is strong, and if he catches Guzma's wrist, then he's going to squeeze and twist it, with the forearm to follow. And at this angle, they're face-to-face again... sans mustache, this time.]
Me? Of course not. You've never been worse than a pest to me. [Guzma's most likely never seen Nanu's eyes this intense, his expression too-calm for his anger. While Nanu has a penchant for unnerving people with his stare, it's been a long while since he's donned this kind. It's so natural he doesn't have to try.] When you decided to open your rotten mouth to Anabel? That's the problem.
[For all Guzma likes to believe himself as "hard", Nanu has him beat. Not that Guzma hasn't seen his share of messed up shit. Even so, it doesn't compare to what Nanu has had to desensitize himself to for the profession he has. Guzma has his assumptions of what goes on in that line or work, and those assumptions never prepared him for the possibility of what Nanu might do against him due to it.
It's fortunate that there aren't others really around for this spectacle, not that it'd stop it from going on, but the intensity of the heat and the sudden darkness is rather alarming. However, Guzma's so focused on what's going on that he doesn't notice the shift or temperature rising. He's way too distracted with how unfulfilling it is that he can't seem to land a hit on Nanu's face. Right now he wants to pound that stoic expression, wants to see him recoil in pain.
It matters not, particularly when a moment later Nanu squeezes his shoulder so tightly, he can't ignore the pain from it. In the next, Nanu is grasping his arm and twisting it again with surprising strength. He's such a small man, and he hardly looks like he has the strength he does, yet here he is bringing Guzma to heel. With a frustrated and angry growl, he's staring down Nanu as he further explains what this is all about.
Guzma's expression falters.]
Anabel? What the hell does she...
[And then he remembers. He remembers the last conversation he had with her, and how he joked about something he probably shouldn't have. Lead her to believe that something ill befell Nanu. It's all so ridiculous to him, and he's finding it hard to feel sympathetic.
A grin crosses his features, but it's one that's hollow and bereft of any actual joy.]
So, that's what this is about?
[He lets out a short laugh, dry and humorless.]
The fact your lay can't take a joke? Can't fuckin' deal with a little playin'? Noble Nanu here to save the damsel in distress from Big Bad Guzma, is that it!?
[His grin falls, his annoyed and aggressive expression back in full swing.]
Gimme a break.
[To most, Nanu's look, the sharpness of his gaze, would put them on edge, but to Guzma it's a challenge. It keeps him going, and now that he knows the reason for this entire thing it's just more fuel to the fire. One arm restrained, one arm free, and while the thought of striking Nanu flashes through his mind again, he goes for something else entirely.
A fist is easy enough to dodge, but what about Guzma. All of Guzma. He jerks his arm back, in an effort to fake Nanu out on trying to break free of his grasp, but without skipping a beat he attempts to full on body slam him. Hoping to take him down with his size and strength.]
[Maybe if Guzma knew some of the things Nanu's been through, it would create a modicum of respect. Yeah, fat chance. Nanu knows better than to think that; and besides, there's a reason he doesn't offer that kind of information freely. Still...he can't help but think.]
[Nanu takes care not to scoff under his breath. Anything that might make Guzma think he's gotten to him—further than what he's already done, at least. Of course. Of course that's how he'd take it and where he'd go. It's no surprise, what with the bully's inexplicable desire to tease about their relationship like a five-year-old; it just makes getting the damn point harder to jam into his ridiculously thick skull.]
I don't expect you to understand on your own. What would you know? The worst moments of your life only apply to you.
[There's no counter to Guzma's implication of their relationship; no telling him off when he calls Anabel a "damsel in distress", or making a point that she's perfectly capable of taking care of her own business, and very well has already. No, nothing like that. This isn't their usual buttons-pushing run-around. This isn't because of Guzma's usual brand of buffoonery. He crossed a line, arguably one of the only lines Nanu has that can be crossed to begin with, and Guzma doesn't fucking get it.]
[Not yet.]
[Unfortunately for the older man, Guzma's power play works. While Nanu purposefully lets go of his arm as it's jerked back, there's no time to prepare for a full-on body tackle. He can only brace himself as best he can as the larger man hurls himself forward and slams Nanu to the ground. With his head tucked forward, it doesn't impact on the ground as hard as it could have—but his back? Yeah, that does more than just smarts. Despite carefully controlling his reactions, Nanu can't stop the pained grunt from the impact. Anabel's going to be pissed it got this far.]
[Stunned, he knows he has to think of his next move quickly; otherwise he's prime for a no-holds-barred beat-down with no way out. His reaction time takes a hit from the stun, but instincts from his years of training take over. After the moments it takes to recover, his eyes snap back open after closing from the initial brace, anger and determination like a fire behind them. And he keeps talking, as though the assault never happened; the only evidence in his voice of the attack is an audible strain.]
...Would it have been a different story if that Nihilego had the chance to infect someone you actually gave a crap about?
[Oh, he knows more than he let on. And though Guzma's now got the upper hand, Nanu's not just talking shit while lying helplessly supine; one arm snaps back to whichever of Guzma's arm is closest, just as a metaphorical foothold of sorts. His other hand aims for Guzma's face. Or rather, his chin—aiming to be able to hold his jaw at literal arm's length, bypassing what could have been an implication of intent to strangle the man. And Nanu keeps going.]
One of your ex-grunts? Hala? Plumeria? Would you have felt the same fear for their life? Or would you have just appreciated the opportunity to save your own damn hide and leave them to suffer instead?
[This is a dangerous game he's taunting, Nanu knows. Clearly not above playing dirty any more than Guzma, Nanu also bends one leg at the knee as much as he can under Guzma's weight, in prime position to strike the lowest of the low if the situation starts becoming unrecoverable.]
[There's a lot of potential if these two actually had a heart to heart, unfortunately that's not likely to happen soon enough, or at all. Both are too stubborn and try too hard to close themselves off. What could be, alas...
With his tackle being a success, the force in which they hit the ground doesn't do Guzma many favors either. His one solace is the fact that Nanu acts to cushion his own impact, and that he now has the upper hand. Or so he thinks. When Nanu's hand grabs at his arm and chin, he lets out a frustrated growl. His free hand grabs at the wrist of the hand on his chin, greatly not enjoying the proximity it has to his throat.
There's a notable pause when Nanu mentions Nihilego. It strikes him, but not only because of the hypothetical situation he offers the ex-gang leader, but because he knows anything about that at all. Of course, things were different between their perspectives, to Nanu Nihilego was the only threat that Guzma had faced, the only thing that affected him in such a way. It's far from the truth, it was not just that ultra beast, but another that played in his retreat and his dismissal of Team Skull.
Everyone should know about the Necrozma bit, but not everyone should know about Nihilego. It was only him and Lusamine in that Ultra Wormhole...]
What do you want me to say? Hm?!
[He asks that, but it's honestly just a stalling tactic. He's too angry to talk emotions, or so he's telling himself. He doesn't like talking this sort of crap normally, yet here he is, on top of Nanu, angry as can be, and the old man is trying to appeal to his softer side. To his heart.]
If you think I'd abandon 'em, you're trippin'! But I don't see what that's got to do with anythin' right now!
[At least for now, they seem to be at a physical impasse, and fortunately for Nanu, less so for Guzma, he hasn't noticed the position of the other man's knee. Little does he know he's at Nanu's mercy, when it seems by all accounts the opposite.]
[He holds firm to Guzma's jaw despite the new, painful grip on his own wrist. His back is screaming. There's no question that he's going to run out of strength before Guzma does. It's only a matter of time.]
You really can't connect the dots?
[That pause is caught, though Nanu can't tell whether it's because of the hypothetical he'd asked, or because he could name Nihilego as the culprit. He doesn't have much time to dwell on it, though he takes it as some sort of good sign. The situation just isn't controlled enough to pick apart the reason, especially when he's still struggling for his own defense.]
[What else can he do? What does it take to get something through Guzma's head? Of this caliber, and after Nanu's already fucked with his head enough with a dirty trick meant to piss him off more than anything? The idea strikes him, and he first strikes it back down. It's too extreme—he's never even told the entire story to Anabel. Not in detail. Not like this. But it comes up again. And, as he struggles to maintain his grip, Nanu knows that extreme is the only thing that gets through to Guzma.]
...Let me give you a hand.
[Nanu has no reason to believe this will work, aside from the fact that weirder shit has happened in this world to begin with. But he does—else he just made a cocky remark that makes no goddamn sense and leaves Guzma thinking he's wasting their time.]
[Though they're face-to-face, he concentrates on the amulet's "system", the telepathy they've gotten equal practice in using since they arrived here. It's odd, doing it with the intended recipient right in front of him - though in a way, it feels easier. As if just looking into Guzma's eyes as he transmits the thought—the memory—is all it takes to sync minds, if only for a moment.]
[It comes easily, which has always been unfortunate. Nanu's never made any attempt to bury it or pretend it never happened; he wouldn't tolerate such disrespect from himself, no matter how much guilt he feels. There's no introduction, no "beginning" of the sordid fairytale. One moment, Guzma's grappling on top of Nanu - the next, he's looking through Nanu's eyes over a decade ago. Guzma might not even realize it right away. The only two other people who cross his vision...a tall, equally intense-looking man in a trenchcoat; and a woman in a half-suit and work blouse...only address him by "zeroes" or "chief". It isn't until Nanu's voice comes from the body Guzma's seeing through that it becomes apparent.
He sounds authoritative. He's dressed in a suit; blazer missing and sleeves rolled up. It's dark—the middle of the night. Out in wilderness that looks familiarly tropical. Nanu refers to the other man as "100-KR". They have firearms at the ready. Constantly on the lookout. The first emotion that bleeds through is tension. Then, a thought; She shouldn't be here. This isn't right. Stern instructions to the woman to be on alert; scanning the area this way and that; a creeping chill climbing up his spine.
Then...a deep roar in the distance. A sense of alarm. Yelling at the woman to stay behind them; Nanu taking the lead; a blur of foliage and the sounds of crackling branches and crunching leaves under frantic steps. Barks of orders: "Stay back! Weapons ready!" The roars getting louder...no; the group getting closer. "There!" the woman gasps. Heads spin, teeth clench. Alarm reaches its peak.
A monster looms, black as the night. Yellow markings in stark contrast, four blue eyes glowing ominously in the dark. A massive mouth—no, three? --Shit!Shoving the woman out of the way of a thick tentacle, armed with its own crunching mouth. She falls, hard; eyes wild with panic. Nanu aims his firearm-- hell! Forced to dodge from a second tentacle gnashing its teeth at his legs. Hits the ground, rolling hard. Weapons have no effect on its humongous, conveyor-belt-like maw. Blurred vision as things go south; can't see, ears ringing, flashes of pain. Fear, an unmistakable sense of fear, barely tamped down just to try and deal with this thing--
"100-KR!"
Nanu's voice. Too late. Too late, too late, too late. The woman's blood-curdling scream. Gnashing jaws. It has her. It's too late. But she's reaching forward anyway, arms outstretched, pleading with her eyes. Fear at its maximum, swirling with grief; like ice water poured down you back. Firearms are useless. Its mobile mouths cut off Nanu's rescue attempt, her hand pulled out of reach. His heart drops into his stomach. There's no blood, how can there be no blood-- It's all in the thing's mouth. 100-KR dives for her hands. Help her, SAVE HER!
The screaming abruptly stops.
He doesn't want to look. He has to look.
Her body is mangled beyond recognition, like taffy in its jaws. Her lifeless yet still-pleading eyes lock with his before the beast's mouth clamps down for one last, sickening crunch.
[The memory cuts off abruptly; like the flicker of a film reel, Guzma's back in the blink of an eye. Barely any time has passed. The last emotion that bled from the memory is a mixture of fear, helplessness, grief, and shame.]
[In the wake of the memory, and Nanu's mind still reeling, Guzma receives bits and pieces flowing from Nanu's more recent memories. Like aftershocks from an earthquake; vague echoes, recognizable only by their voices.]
[Nanu. She was just bait for the UB...]
[The man—100-KR. What choice did I have? She is reaching her limit.]
[Nanu, again. With Anabel in that condition... She'll be done for if she runs into any UBs now.]
[Broken images. Guzzlord on Poni Island. Not the past—present day. Nanu's viewpoint, running, fear, determination. A cave. A roar.]
[It's over.]
[Nanu's breathing harder. His strength hasn't given out, but reliving the memory alongside Guzma hasn't helped. He tries to keep his face stoic, fighting off a grimace, a sneer. The only reason his hands aren't trembling is because he's holding onto Guzma's arm and jaw so tightly, even tighter now, they can't.]
[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.]
[It's hard to tell what's worse. Living it, in the moment, in real-time... or living with it for years and years, the memory never fading. The responsibility on his shoulders, weighing him down almost physically. Knowing that he could have stopped it, knowing that his superiors set the entire thing up on purpose.]
[Those parts don't come across, though. This was more than enough, and Guzma doesn't need to delve even deeper into Nanu's reason for living the way he does.]
[He can see it on the other man's face. Something he would never expect Guzma to be able to experience, let alone show even a sliver of the emotions running through his mind. Their breathing is matched, the horror still fresh. Nanu has had a decade of experience to lock the memory back up and continue on with his life. Guzma doesn't have the same luxury.]
[When Guzma drops his hold, so does Nanu. His arms fall to the ground like deadweight. The only measure he keeps in place is that bent knee of his—but at this point, he's not expecting to use it. Without any kind of hold anymore, Nanu's flat on his back and 100% vulnerable. It speaks volumes that based on Guzma's reaction, he's trusting him not to attack further. His eyes are less piercing, the fire snuffed out completely. He feels his age again. Much like the ill-fated team member, his fight is lost.]
[He swallows. There's not much you can say, after something like that.]
...Do you get it now?
[His voice conveys his equal loss of anger well. It's not accusatory, nor snappy. Nanu sounds utterly tired; emotional exhaustion befitting of a decade's worth of guilt.]
I refuse...to let that happen to Anabel. She would have...been done for. [He's taking pauses, as his breathing very slowly eases up. His eyes glance away from Guzma's for the first time since their confrontation, leaving him staring at the sky.] ...I went in her place. And when I go home...that's what I'm returning to.
[Nanu leaves the original question unvoiced for a second time. Does he get it now? What Anabel must have thought...must have gone through within seconds of Guzma's careless joke?]
[Having that memory implanted in his head is certainly something he's going to have to learn to deal with. For now, it's too fresh, too new, and his mind continues to focus on the details of it. Remembering how it felt, even though the emotions were alien to him. Both because that sort of loss and fear was unlike anything he's experienced, while likewise still being something he himself did not. Like phantom pains in a limb long since gone, but for a limb that never existed in the first place.
With Nanu's hold relinquished, and the older man leaving himself entirely vulnerable, Guzma has ample opportunity to attack him. To release that anger he wanted to moments prior. But the anger is gone, replaced by guilt that isn't fully his own. In short, that memory exchange has certainly fucked him up to a degree he didn't ever anticipate. Slowly he finds himself steadying his breathing, as the intensity of it all wanes.
Nanu's question goes unanswered at first. He stares down at him with a complicated expression, letting the other talk further as if he's mulling over the answer. Not daring to interrupt him, even as he takes pauses between his words.
Once he finishes, the implied question certainly noted, Guzma takes the time to move off of him, but he doesn't stand. Instead, he sits besides him, legs crossed under each other with his elbows resting on his knees, eyes locked forward before him as they focus on nothing. He almost looks zoned out, honestly.
Seemingly to be at a loss for words for once in his life, the silence persists for a few long moments. It's an odd feeling, but that's par the course in this shitshow of a situation. He draws in a breath through his nose, before letting it out—slow and even—through his mouth. It's shaky, and telling of the answer before he even says it, but the words certainly serve the purpose better:]
Had I known—had I even a clue...
[With an aggravated sound, a hand grasps at his wild hair, his face scrunching with self-aimed frustration. He doesn't finish that sentence, because it sounds too much like an excuse. It sounds too much like a lie to skirt responsibility, and he's trying to stop that, isn't he? The truth is, he did know the dangers of the Ultra Beasts. He knew what people had to face because of Lusamine—because of him. He might not have known those details, known of that specific tragic event... but he's not as much of an idiot as one might assume.
Maybe he shouldn't have joked about Nanu's life like that. Not when the subject matter was nothing to joke about, not when it weighs as heavy as it does on everyone involved. Himself included.
Finally he continues, that hand still holding tight to his hair, as if he's keeping himself on a leash:]
Look—I didn't mean no harm. But that don't change the harm done. I get it.
[In a way, Nanu does feel bad about this. He'll come to regret it later, even though in the moment it seemed like the last option. No one should have to live with that memory. It's something he and Looker should have to take the burden of. He can only find solace in the fact that Guzma's awareness of the event will be fully erased once (if) they're back home again.]
[Here, now? He hopes the fact that it's not Guzma's natural memory will make it fade over time.]
[When the other man finally releases him fully, Nanu can actually relax—or as much as he can, right now. His leg falls back into a straightened position, leaving him completely supine in the dirt. In his peripheral, he sees Guzma sit down next to him, as his gaze is still unfocused on the sky. Slowly, his breathing eases toward normalcy again.]
Yeah, well. [Nanu lets out a large breath; a sigh combined with a sort of reset to his breathing.] You aren't supposed to.
[There's a double meaning there: Guzma shouldn't know in the first place, and Nanu shouldn't have shown him the memory at all. The way his voice takes on a regretful tone could imply either one. He's already thinking he owes Guzma an apology... but maybe not right this second.]
[Nanu turns when he notices movement, and frowns deeper when he sees Guzma grab his hair. Despite his dislike of the young man, the self-harming tendencies he's seen have never made him happy. He returns his gaze to the sky, before closing his eyes completely.]
Hard to mean no harm when you imply someone she holds dear didn't make it. [Accusing him further really won't help right now, he knows. But it's voiced like a fact, with no attack behind it; still just...tired. And like he knows Guzma is most likely already aware of the fact, despite how he decided to phrase it.] If I had come over like some sort of diplomat and tried to talk it out with you like a normal human being, would you have realized it the same way?
[Of course, that would be pushing aside how Guzma first handled it to Anabel herself when it first happened at all... But they're long past that, now. Like whiplash, their anger snapped to near-catatonia in the blink of an eye, leaving the two men to sort it out as equals for once.]
[It's hard for Guzma to be mad about Nanu showing him this memory. Sure, it's left him stunned and maybe a little bit emotionally compromised, but the vulnerability of the act strikes Guzma even more. Nanu could have shunned him—he and Anabel both. He could have given up on Guzma, or merely punished him without reprieve. Not to say he didn't punish him, and that this wasn't it's own form of punishment. It's also a strange form of kindness, even if that in itself is a weird way to look at it.
An extreme measure, for sure, but Nanu shared something dark and deep with Guzma to make him understand, when he didn't have to make him understand. He didn't have to do any of that, he could have just been angry, lashed at him, mistreated him and left it at that. He didn't.
Guzma's not sure if the memory will fade, it feels like it's not going anywhere any time soon, but the details will likely fade, leaving behind an impression more than anything.]
Yeah, well what options were I givin' ya?
[He's aware, very aware of how out of hand he can get. A point of pride in the past, but now it's a point of responsibility. Trying to keep himself a bit more reined in is pretty hard, especially when he doesn't have his usual aid: Plumeria. There's Jill, of course, but even she's not here.
The reminder leaves him gripping his hair a bit tighter—but then he lets it go, letting his arm fall back into its former place. It's unfortunate how his violent tendencies are even self-aimed, but it's also unfortunate in that he believes it helps him keep in control, when in reality he's losing control.]
I know—I know.
[He huffs, it's not as indignant as it might have been any other time, and its frustration isn't even at Nanu, it's at himself. There's a lot of unlearning he's still got to do. Even if he wants to tell others he'll never change, that he's always gonna be Big Bad Guzma! The reality is, the fact of the matter is he's trying to do better. He'll never make a full turn around, he knows that, but he can do better.
Nanu's question leaves him silent as he considers it. He wants to say yes, but that's because a childish part of him still feels entirely victimized in this whole thing. He knows if the answer was truly "yes", then Nanu would be left to feel like an asshole who went too far. It'd be an empty form of vindication that he'd regret later, and fortunately the traumatic calm Nanu's shared memory brought him allows him to ignore that knee-jerk answer.]
Probably not. I know the joke was off-color, but that's the sorta humor I'm used to. The sorta shit that me and my homies did to get by. It was easier to laugh at and joke about the rotten shit goin' on, y'know, not take shit too seriously, that way it didn't feel like it affected us as much.
[They romanticized such negativity, desensitized to what most would be appalled by. They were all sensitive kids, but their sensitivity was different than most, and that's honestly where this whole thing came from. Oddly enough, it's feeling easier and easier to just talk to Nanu. Likely because of the vulnerability the other man had shown Guzma.
Not that he wants to spill his guts to him, but here's a chance to make things right, or as right as they can be. And Guzma wants that.]
I ain't makin' no excuse, don't get me wrong. Just explainin' myself. Anabel's fine, I wouldn't intentionally do nothin' to hurt her, she don't deserve that. I wanted to mess with her a li'l, but my choice on what about wasn't great, I can admit that.
[He lets out a sigh, before looking over at Nanu, his mouth pressing to a thin line as he grimaces. It's hard. Hard to admit when you're wrong, after spending almost a decade running from everything: his dad, authorities, responsibility. Who knew his greatest challenge in life would be acting like an adult?]
I was too caught off guard by my own mistake and her reaction that it felt easier to get mad at her for not gettin' it; even though there's no reason she should have.
[Shunning Guzma was certainly an idea that's crossed Nanu's mind before. Just dealing with him from time to time was enough, but his antics had never caused this level of malicious pain before—not even back when the only world they knew was their own. And considering who it affected, shunning wasn't good enough. Shunning wouldn't have told Guzma anything except that he'd won his one-sided game, and it definitely wouldn't have gotten him to realize exactly what pain he had carelessly inflicted. Revenge is a hell of a drug.]
[It just so happens that the eventual solution went hand-in-hand with baring Nanu's darkest and most well-kept secret. And the aforementioned regret he's already starting to feel stems largely from the decision being a split-second, emotionally driven one. Guzma's change of heart is ultimately what they both needed, but a side-effect of Nanu's brand of equally malicious revenge. It's what he truly wanted, deep down. He just needs to come to terms with Guzma's new insight into Nanu's mind.]
[The admission of his self-awareness is, admittedly, nice. Any self-awareness at all is a sad sort of refreshing in his presence. Nanu doesn't know if this has always been something that Guzma's known on some sort of level in the back of that hard head of his, or if it's a completely new concept earned from his experience back home. Either way, the price it takes to reveal is way too high.]
[The honesty is refreshing, too—though it feels more like a sudden splash of cold water. Ultimately, it ends up feeling nice on a hot summer day, but the initial impact is still a biting shock to your system.]
You think you and your gang are the only ones? [Nanu makes a noise between a snort and a scoff.] I've lived off of morbid quips for years.
[And then a sigh.] And believe me, I know what it's like to take things too far.
[But not...that far. Though, even if he had...]
Thing is, if you hadn't acted like a child once you realized your mistake, we wouldn't have had to have this little song and dance. [Guzma just said he's not making excuses, but Nanu still feels like it needs saying out loud.] Anabel doesn't like you, but if you had just avoided doubling-down and blaming her for believing exactly what only you would know...
[Yeah, he gets it. It's hard not to really rub in the fact, though. He goes quiet for a pause after trailing off, opening his eyes to contemplate the sky again—visible again since their scuffle, he notices.]
But that's hard for you not to do, isn't it.
[Still not accusatory. It's not a direct question, either, but it's implied.]
[Shunning would have frustrated him, and it'd be its own form of punishment, but ultimately he wouldn't learn nor understand anything. So, in this case, revenge was truly the right answer. Not only did Nanu get to stick it to Guzma, Guzma's been given the opportunity to learn, and honestly that's probably the best outcome.
Who knows what lengths Guzma might go to get attention someone is denying him, after all.
If anything, all of this makes Guzma respect Nanu more. In as much as he's got respect for anyone, really. Even with Guzma being in mid reformation, he still admires people's wickedness and this was indeed a wicked blow. He certainly hasn't ever had someone make him do a complete 180 with his anger before—even if Nanu couldn't have done it without their amulets, but that's besides the point.]
Guess we ain't that different then, huh?
[The way he says that isn't as smug as it probably normally would be. Instead, there's a strange somberness to it. In truth, it's implying more than what's equally known between them. Guzma knows Nanu's trauma, but the same can't be said for Nanu.
As Nanu continues to nag him, Guzma takes his gaze elsewhere. Part of him bristles at being scolded, even if it's not as harsh as it could be. He doesn't let his anger rise though, and instead settles on scowling at the ground. At the not-quite-a-question, Guzma shrugs his shoulders, and for a few solid moments it seems like he's not going to answer.
He shakes his head, letting out an aggravated, yet defeated, sigh.]
I don't know—I guess so? Never been too good at keeping my anger in check, even when it'd be in my best interest.
[A statement that seems needless to say. Anyone who knows Guzma, knows Guzma's anger just as well. He never leaves home without it! It's strange how easy it is to talk about this, but that's likely because he's still a bit emotionally dazed. That memory share was like a tranq to the dickhead part of his brain, the part that makes him withdraw from people, and dismiss them. The part that maintains that emotional wall he puts up.]
Fightin' and beatin' people down is all I know, Nanu. It's what I grew up on, it's what I formed Team Skull around, it's just who I am. When I feel a fight startin', I can't help it, yo.
[There's some truth to that, but Guzma is also oversimplifying himself in this equation. He's more than that, but when he cycles back into those paces, and it leads to this sort of outcome, maybe it's not entirely unreasonable for him to think this.
On the other hand, it sounds like he's looping back into an excuse, and maybe he is, even if unintentional. Even if it's a really shitty excuse at that.]
[The change is already apparent to him. Yet, to really convince Nanu of any kind of newfound "respect" or even slightly changed ways, Guzma's going to have to prove it to him. This is huge, but the ex-gang leader has a lot in his past to make up for in regards to Nanu's trust.]
[With a grunt he doesn't bother to suppress, Nanu gets up into a sitting position next to Guzma. Or, uses the arm that he wasn't punched in twice to force himself up, hunched over a little bit more than usual. There's more than just a twinge in his back. Boy, but Anabel's going to kill him.]
Uh-huh. [he grunts, sarcastically,] Two peas in a pod.
[He at least acknowledges to himself that it could have been put way worse, by Guzma's standards. The sarcasm in his voice isn't as much as it could be, either, given Guzma's somber tone and Nanu's own mental exhaustion. Still, what a comparison to make...]
[Nanu keeps quiet, knowing the other man will answer when he's ready. It's another tally in the proverbial "good" column that Guzma doesn't argue immediately...or at all. There are words coming out of his mouth in an order that he's likely never put them in before. The introspection is giving Nanu insight to how the deepest recesses of Guzma's mind work when there's no ego obstacles to impede them.]
Yes, you can.
[His tone takes a lot of the implied blame out of his reply, but not all of it. Much like Guzma, he's not snapping and accusing out of anger or spite. It's just...advice. Nanu's trying to help, in a thankfully much better way than fifteen minutes ago.]
You're capable. You've never tried or wanted to try. And that's probably what Hala's going to try and get through to you. [Without this added breakthrough, of course... Alas. Nanu may continue his "nagging", but sitting up and right next to Guzma like this, it feels closer to actual conversation than talking down to the younger man] Your ego's too damned big for that head of yours. You'd rather die than show any kind of weakness.
[That's more than reasonable. Guzma has a long way to go to make up for all he's done, and he knows that. For all he might say he won't apologize, and seems endlessly stubborn in that regard, he's clearly seeking some form of redemption.
It's no quick process, and there's going to be many mistakes along the way. The main question, however, is whether or not he can pull through, and considering his track record, it only makes sense someone wouldn't hold their breath for it. Especially Nanu, seeing as he's a bit more familiar with the man than most. The burden of being Team Skull's neighbor.
Nanu's sarcastic quip didn't go unappreciated. They're markedly different as they come, yet they have their surprising similarities. Perhaps their relationship could have been a better one, had Guzma not gone down the path he did, but there's no changing the mistakes of the past. There's only living with them, and endeavoring to not repeat them.]
Tch...
[It's not much of a response to Nanu's initial reply. Guzma can feel his hackles starting to rise, but his emotional exhaustion keeps him in check. He doesn't like being called out on most things, but this is particularly sensitive. Being told he's capable, and being called out on the fact he's never wanted to try not to fight with people silences him a bit further. It's certainly true, and he knows it, but it doesn't change how he feels, or how he always reacts.
That mention of Hala settles him, however. Hala had been doing a lot with him, challenging him—with more than just Pokèmon battles. Slowly that old man's words had begun to worm their way into his mind, and little by little he was indeed improving. It was subtle, so subtle that Guzma hadn't fully realized how things have been changing for him.
The subtly also kept him saying a similar script, his mind still thinking himself far more simple than he actually is. His social Darwinism still a great part of his mindset towards the world. So when Nanu goes on to call him out on his unwillingness to appear weak, it really just seals his point. Nanu doesn't even have to ask if he's right, because he quite obviously is.
Guzma's mouth presses to a thin line as he looks at Nanu—it's a sidelong glance, not fully turning his head to look at him.]
You're not wrong, nah. But that's basic survival. The moment you show weakness is when you get your ass beat. I'm no fool, I ain't gonna be beaten down by nobody.
[In Guzma's mind it's destroy or be destroyed. It's how it's been for far too long. It's that mentality, that anger, and hostility that robbed him of the chance to be a captain; ultimately fueling his rage. His anger problems are a vicious cyclical nightmare that is never ending in its self-sustaining nature. It torments and blinds him to the reality of his actions; a dual-pronged self-sabotage that leaves him more damaged and unfulfilled, while leaving him to feel disenfranchised by everyone else.
Even now he struggles to fully realize what he's denied himself because of his own ego and self-destructive coping. Slowly Hala is helping him see the error of his ways, but over a decade of conditioning doesn't go away so easily.]
But that's life. You're either strong, or you're weak. If you're gonna be showin' everyone how weak you are, it ain't no one's fault but your own when you get smashed.
[There's only one thing about Guzma that Nanu's always respected—well, maybe that's not the right word. Appreciated? Despite his status as "The Big Bad Boss who beats etc. etc.", he still took in a huge number of troubled kids and gave them a place to stay, a purpose, a family. A very screwed up family, but still somehow leagues less screwed up than most of their original home lives.]
[But he's always assumed it was more for Guzma's status than anything. Plumeria, now she's a different story.]
[Nanu can tell when his comments are starting to get through, at a much faster pace than normal. Hala's always been a point with him - though what kind of point has changed drastically. At least now Nanu can chalk it up to being a positive one than a volatile negative. And it looks like he's been training with the other Island Kahuna for a bit longer than he initially thought.]
[The side-eye he's given is matched in kind. He arches one eyebrow as Guzma explains his reasoning, though it isn't a surprising revelation in the least.]
Oh? Well, hard to argue with that. Goes hand in hand with pokémon battling, doesn't it? The weakest team loses, the trainer with the weakest will fails... Kids just starting out as new trainers get crushed, tossed aside, and are forced to give up their pokémon so they can never train a day again in their lives... Hm.
[oh wait look at that it isn't so hard to argue after all]
There's a reason humans and pokémon help each other. You know that just as much. Asking for help doesn't make you weak, it makes you smart. Thinking that everyone gets their behind handed to them when they show the slightest sign of weakness isn't "just life". That's learned.
[He says that last point with a hint of...knowing.]
But if you want to keep thinking that, why stop at hypotheticals? You're showing weakness right now. We both are, talking about this sort of crap. Hey, I just showed you the worst night of my life; I've got a big beat-down coming, then, huh? We should be punished, then, shouldn't we? [These are all conversationally rhetorical, used to make his point; slow and thoughtful, not dished out in rapid succession to put the other man down. But if Guzma doesn't agree with them, despite what he's just finished saying, then it's a big crack in the foundation.] How about Anabel? She showed weakness when she thought I was dead. But then, you just said a minute ago that she didn't deserve what you said to her. ...Doesn't make much sense with what you're saying now, does it?
[A little of column A, a little of column B. There was certainly a selfish aspect to Team Skull, but there was also a genuine care for his grunts. For those who had suffered similarly to him, unfortunately he also repeated some of the cycle with them. It's what's bound to happen when a maladjusted man takes on rowdy and impressionable teens under his wing, when he's barely able to reign in his own anger issues.
Plumeria is truly the one who kept everything together. Without her the whole concept would have likely fallen apart. She was Guzma's leash and conscience most the time—not that Guzma doesn't have a conscience, but rather she kept him in check when he couldn't. Which was pretty often.
Hala and Guzma has always been a bit of a turbulent relationship, first a person of security, guidance, and comfort. Eventually becoming a point of soreness and contention, and ultimately a misplaced idea of betrayal. But hence he has resumed being his mentor and master, and slowly their relationship has been mended, and Guzma's view of him has begun to restore to its former glory. Which also means that Hala's mention will always be an in with him, it will pacify and remind him of what he's working towards, what he's fixing, even when he's being stubborn and bullheaded as usual.]
I—you know what I mean, old man!
[There's frustration there, but less so with Nanu, and more so with himself. Of course he didn't mean something so dramatic as that, the weak can still train, they can still become strong, But until then, they're fated to be pummeled again and again. With a pout, though Guzma would argue it's a scowl, he crosses his arms over his chest and looks away from Nanu. It's all very childish looking, but Guzma again would argue the legitimacy of that claim.
As Nanu continues to pick apart Guzma's poorly constructed and greatly fallible view point, he remains silent. Stewing over what he's saying. Before, he might get angry and yell at the other over it. Asking about whether or not they're looking for a beat down! He wasn't about people challenging his view point, nor the terrible shit he's learned. Even being told it was learned would have set him off, because it's absolutely true.
But he's changed. Small and subtle, but enough. His hackles lower even more as Nanu points out how weak they both have been here. How Guzma has let down his guards, how he's contradicted himself and it leaves Guzma feeling... lost.
He feels foolish, but also defiant, but at the same time what would that defiance do? They've already talked, they've already come to this point, so running away now wouldn't help anything. Even if he attempted to save face, it'd make him seem weaker for it, make him seem like a cowward. Not to mention, with the recent mention of Hala, he can't help but think about the shit they've discussed. The help he's sought in his old mentor.
Maybe, just maybe, weak needs to be redefined in his lexicon.]
Shit, I don't know. It don't—I guess.
[Guzma's voice is quieter than it usually is, it's lacking that certain edge he emphasizes his words with. It's a little painfully obvious how stumped he is, and that's a good thing. Nanu's certainly given him something to think about, an endeavor that a couple months ago would have been entirely wasted on him. It's painfully awkward and he feels more vulnerable now, than he did when approaching Hala about seeking mentoring once more. Guzma had a history with Hala, and while he's known Nanu for a fair amount of time, it's different.
Yet, here they are. Two sad broken men confiding in one another, despite everything.]
[There's a fine line between sympathy for his upbringing and contempt for how it's taken its toll on others through him. Nanu cares more for the grunts because he sees them as able to be taken care of. Plumeria always had their best interests in mind, despite her permanent glower. But Guzma, he knew, he could never have broken through to.]
[Cripes, what is with this world and getting him to appreciate they're all stuck in it? First Anabel, now this? He doesn't want to like being stuck here, yet all of these changes were made possible because of it.]
[And he really doesn't envy Hala, when they go back home.]
[Nanu snorts, almost amused, at Guzma's reaction, like a watered-down toddler's tantrum; he just needs to hold his breath to complete the metaphor. Yet, he remains quiet, and most importantly listening, which is the most Nanu could ask for at this point. The almost casual tone of the conversation is no doubt helping in his favor, instead of stoking the flames; which, in truth, have already been dampened to begin with.]
[He can tell his words are sinking in. The way they're both sitting outside on the ground in the middle of a path like a couple of children, talking about their feelings in an impromptu therapy session... Well, how could he word it any differently?]
[After Guzma's quiet admission, Nanu lets silence rule the pause. It's another rarity for Guzma to agree with him, and an even bigger one to admit he's wrong. Letting it stand without interruption for a moment or two is the least he can do, instead of jumping right back into it and making the other man feel like his words are unappreciated.]
...I'd say that's progress right there.
[Though he's incapable of reading Guzma's mind (thank god), Nanu's next words seem to go hand-in-hand with what he's mulling over.]
It's hard, to be vulnerable. I get that—I do. [An inkling of experience creeps into his tone again; a reassurement that Nanu's not just saying it for the sake of saying it. ...Of course, that might be undercut, because for a moment, Nanu chuckles.] Heh. What was it you said to me, just last month? "I ask, but don't seem so invested", I think it was? "Just because I have a job, doesn't mean I give a shit"?
[The humor doesn't last, and the last chuckle dies down with a breathless scoff.]
Hell, it's easy to stay locked up in that mindset. Locked up in the station, shutting the world out. Just like being locked in Po Town, shutting out everyone else. ...Locked in the mindset that weakness needs to be beaten. Even when it's yourself.
[Another pause. This time, instead of just today's event, it's the years worth of hardened depression and exhaustion that comes through his voice.]
[It's crucial that the fine line is upheld, that Guzma is held accountable for what he's done, and what he does. An explanation is no justification, and for too long he believed contrary. He's learning, slowly, but progress is happening. Hala's patience is godly, to say the least, and Guzma could not be any luckier to have him as a mentor.
Of course, being here, one might think progress could reverse, that without someone to keep Guzma in line he'd go back to his old ways unabated. If anything, this confrontation between them has proven quite the opposite. It's certainly sped up the process, and saved both of them from endless spats and misunderstandings, and let us not forget Guzma being inanely stubborn. This world certainly offered some useful tools, especially when dealing with someone as thick-skulled as Guzma.
The silence is heavy, but it helps everything sink in. Really sink in. It's a little difficult, all of this has been so much information, and Guzma's not a man with a mind made for vast amounts of information under even normal circumstances. It's exhausting emotionally, but that in itself is a good thing. It's well been past the time for Guzma to exercise his empathy and understanding.
He looks to Nanu when he mentions the thoughtless nonsense he had said to him before. When he said it, it felt and sounded true, but also inconsequential. It's clearly anything but, and perhaps it was a little cruel of him to say about the other man. Especially knowing what he does now. His expression is rather subtle, he's clearly attempting to stay neutral, but there's the obvious tinge of guilt behind it. The way his brow creases, how his mouth is pulled into a slight frown., how his eyes seem to oscillate over Nanu's face.]
...I shouldn't have said that. I didn't know what the fuck I was talkin' about.
[For Nanu's point, though. That's... harder. That requires him to open up in ways he never thought he could. To drop the façade—to let down the total tough guy act. There's a strange anxiety twisting in the pit of his stomach, and he's not quite sure what to do, or even say at this point.
After a moment that feels longer than it actually is, he does speak up. His gaze falling to the grass in front of him as his face scrunches a little. It's not a look of anger. Maybe disappointment? It's hard to tell.]
I don't know if I know how.
[It's honest and earnest. With a knowing behind it that isn't usual for him. It's not that he disagrees with Nanu, in fact they have been doing it quite a bit here. However, the circumstance has greatly lent itself to facilitate that in Guzma. But to do that without such an aid? He's not sure he can.]
It's not that I'm—I ain't scared. Nothin' scares me—
[A lie, and he knows it. His eyes narrow as his brow further creases with growing self-aimed irritation.]
—Not a lot scares me, [A much needed correction,] but this ain't a turf I'm familiar with. I don't—I don't wanna go gettin' comfortable showin' weakness, and then showin' it to the wrong asshole.
[Which paints a pretty good picture of Guzma and some of his trust issues. Very few have been able to break past his tough exterior, but even then it's taken time and nudging for him to talk. But even then he keeps some shit locked up tight, unable to truly delve into the depths. This reflects his behavior as a whole, because he's afraid and he doesn't even know it.]
[Even Nanu doesn't think Guzma's going to regress after this. There's no changing who he is at his core, his "true" personality, so to speak. He'll be rude and vulgar and argumentative and always prone to anger. But after today, there will be a sort of...modifier, Nanu thinks. Something that has grown in the back of his mind that will, at the very least, make Guzma think. Think, in the midst of his gut reaction, that maybe he should modify how he's handling the situation.]
[Well... Nanu can hope.]
[The long silences help the older man, too. No constant talking or feeling the need to throw quips and jabs. The aforementioned listening that Guzma's finally doing is refreshing. Nanu can finally enjoy their time together.]
[When Guzma shifts to look at Nanu, he turns his head in kind and quickly studies the other man's expression. Tally another mark in the surprise column; so far, Nanu's heard the guilt in Guzma's voice. Now he's seeing it on his face. But, once he speaks and pseudo-apologizes, he'll find that Nanu actually grins again.]
You're right—you didn't know. But look at me. Of course that's what people think. [He shrugs half-heartedly; a casual reassurement for Guzma's guilt.] I like to do things on the down-low. Even back in Po Town. You didn't see everything I did, and that was the point. It's easier if folks don't know. Low expectations...and people don't get attached.
[It isn't lost on Nanu that his last point will most likely resonate just as much with Guzma. Don't get close to people, and you don't get hurt, right? Or in Nanu's case, the other person doesn't get hurt. Either way, they each have their own form of isolation. And Nanu's still working on his.]
[He watches Guzma as a cavalcade of emotions brew in his thoughts. Again, he stays silent to let the other man speak uninterrupted; get his thoughts in order. He can tell it's especially hard right now, as Guzma stops and starts again like he's a record that's skipping as it plays.]
[During the next pause, Nanu nods. Partially to signal to Guzma that he understands, and partially to himself. A thought has been brewing since they've sat down to talk, and now it's come to a head. The catalyst was Guzma finally admitting that he's capable of, and has been, being scared.]
It won't be easy. I'm not telling you to try and change who you are cold-Stantler. It takes time. [And boy, doesn't he know it.] And you would never let someone walk all over you. But letting down your guard to let someone else in... it's a gamble, I won't lie.
But it's worth it to try.
[Good thing Guzma's not in the mood to tease about him and Anabel... But it might be obvious that it's what he's thinking of.]
[And finally, the idea stewing in Nanu's mind decides to come out. After a brief pause, he takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly.]
...I'm no Hala. Can't expect the same dynamic. ...But if you think that gamble is worth the risk, and you actually want to try... I don't see any harm in helping you figure it out.
[He's not going to say the word "mentor" outright, but the fact that he name-dropped Hala again—well. It's obvious what he's offering.]
[He will definitely think twice before running his mouth—at least with someone he knows, or something he cares about knows. It'll take time for him to learn proper restraint with people he's unfamiliar with, that's for certain, but this is progress.
It won't be perfect, Guzma is far from that, but even if he does it half the time, that's still better than before.
The guilt doesn't wholly leave Guzma, even when Nanu downplays the statement. Maybe it'd be more of a reassurance if Guzma didn't feel like such a fool for not realizing it. If it didn't take this to make him realize that Nanu actually gave a fuck about anything. In fact, he wears a mask, not unlike Guzma's own, to conceal how much he cares, yet despite that Guzma truly believed his indifference.]
Yeah. I ain't ever gonna fully change.
[It's not a statement of defiance, just a matter of fact. Who he is, is just who he is. What he wants to change is how he reacts to things, how he proceeds forward, and how he navigates his social interactions. It's hard, so damn hard to break away from these self-destructive tendencies... but Nanu's right, he's right and he knows it.
Had this been under less serious circumstances, he most certainly would have taken the low hanging fruit of a tease about Nanu and Anabel—but that's what got him into this mess to begin with. Perhaps not that general vein of joking, but their relationship in general was the kindling for the fire he lit under his own ass.
As he goes to reply, he hears the breath Nanu takes and releases, and decides to let the man finish. It's certainly not something he expected to hear from Nanu, and it leaves him quiet once more. His expression hides nothing that goes on between his ears. Twisting into a mixture of bafflement and uncertainty. Less so because of the idea of having Nanu as a mentor, but more so because Nanu would offer it at all.
He's touched, honestly, and he leans his elbows on his knees once more as he thinks about it, his face falling to something more contemplative in nature. An expression rarely seen on Guzma, but it's there all the same.
Hala is his master, but also Hala is not here. Nor will he be for the foreseeable future. Maybe tomorrow Hala will show up, maybe he will never show up. It's not exactly a betrayal to Hala to take Nanu on as his stand in, and if anything he owes it to Hala to keep up with his progress, even if he's not here, right? This seems like an opportunity that even Guzma isn't stupid enough to spit in the face of.
A shallow nod at first, and then he speaks.]
Yeah... Alright, yeah. I'd like that. You ain't Hala, but—
[He pauses a moment, thinking his words over carefully before continuing.]
I trust you, and I respect you. I could use your help.
[It feels weird to say it, especially to Nanu. They do not have the history he does with Hala, but now there's been something so intimately shared with him, he'd feel like an idiot to not show Nanu the same sort of trust.]
[Unless the progress is halted by something like mouthing off to a murderer... But there will always be setbacks. So long as Guzma can show and prove to Nanu that he's trying–that's what's important.]
[Not many people know Nanu's true nature beyond his laziness and sour attitude. Those aren't masks, at least; but they serve as the foundation for one. He rarely gives a crap about what other people think of him, and that included Guzma. For the ex-Skull leader, that was on purpose. It was a different story for his grunts, and even Plumeria. Nanu assumes the grunts just didn't mention the things their Kahuna did for our with them, likely because it would signify some sort of weakness to their feared leader. Now, maybe Nanu can tell him of those things some time.]
[For now, though, the focus is on Guzma and his actions... and words. It wasn't just Nanu and Anabel's relationship that lit the proverbial fire–it was Guzma's cruel "joke" and subsequently how he handled her very reasonable response that dug the fire pit deeper.]
[Nanu guesses he should wait to tell him to apologize to Anabel. Baby steps, and all that.]
[He goes quiet once again, to leave room for the other man to think. It's a hefty proposal, despite how casual he tried to make it. And it's something even Nanu's thinking twice about, considering Guzma's track record. But he wouldn't be offering if this situation wasn't as serious as it became.]
[Though, he doesn't look at Guzma's face as he thinks; no watching, no hovering. It's the least he can do, to give the man some privacy, even if it's entirely in Guzma's head. Not until he speaks again does Nanu turn back to him and really sees the seriousness on his face. Whether he accepts or declines is entirely up to him, and at this point, Nanu's not fully sure which to expect.]
[So it's a pleasant surprise when Guzma not only accepts–but admits respect. That brings a modicum of surprise to Nanu's face. It had to be monumentally hard for him to admit, but ultimately Nanu's a little touched, too. He can tell it's not a bluff.]
Alright then. [He nods, looking Guzma in the eye.] We've got a deal.
[It would probably be weird for them to seal it with a handshake or something. Nanu's never been fond of that crap. The real seal is showing progress.]
Well... [A sigh; perhaps noticeably less serous, and more his normal long-suffering self.] ...Guess this means I gotta give you permission to bother me now, huh?
[An attempt at levity, after all this shit.]
If the starbucks is a strawberry horchata ur 4given
[LOOK... he's got a bit to learn still, and self control doesn't come easy, but that's what this is all about, right? Learning some self control and taking responsibility!
Surprising as it might be, Guzma doesn't seem to mind weakness in his grunts so much, otherwise why else would he take in a bunch of failures? They all sucked at Pokèmon, but he brought them in anyways. That doesn't mean they understood his weird double standard than anyone else, but really what mattered in terms of strength and weakness was Guzma's own perception of it. Allies could be weak, but he couldn't be weak to anyone, and if opponents showed any weakness, he struck at their vulnerabilities without mercy. Weak grunts meant no power struggle, no competition, it worked in his favor.
Fortunately Nanu won't need to tell Guzma to apologize, because he'll certainly attempt that on his own after this, with little success. But he's going to try, and that's what matters?
The lack of staring at him while he made his decision was nice, Guzma's not a deep thinker, and if Nanu watched him meanwhile he might have gotten a little agitated, so being able to be left with his thoughts and decide... well, it certainly helped him figure it out. The look of surprise on Nanu is a nice touch, getting reactions from the older man, no matter how small, was always a win.]
Yeah, guess we do.
[It's strange, and it might not stop being strange for a while, but strange isn't always a bad thing. Guzma likewise makes no move to seal this with a hand shake, not really his style. Besides, he's probably touched Nanu enough as it is in this whole ordeal.
Guzma grins at the little joke, a welcomed change of pace considering everything.]
You sure you gonna be able to handle that?
[He has little intention to overrun Nanu's life or anything, but it's as much of a joke as it is a serious question. Guzma may not always be self-aware, but he knows he's a handful. A point of pride in the past, after all.]
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golisolation) wrote2010-07-17 11:01 am
no subject
Unfortunately, it just took a dirty tactic to do it that has left both of them feeling awful about it all.]
What I deserve?! What the hell did I ever do to you, old man!? This can't be about no teasin' I ever done to you, even you ain't that fragile.
[With that other hand on his shoulder, Guzma finds new determination to break free. He's big, and has youth on Nanu to boot, so it's only a matter of time.
With Nanu mentioning Hala, that speeds things up and Guzma suddenly twists himself towards Nanu—turning on the side of his captured arm, which allows him to unlock its position and swing his unbound fist at the smaller man. He's aiming for his face, but considering his punch is during his twist, his accuracy might not be the best, and the hook is wide. Should he miss, that'd definitely give Nanu the chance to counter him.
Guzma clearly has no interest in settling this over Pokèmon, this shit's gone too personal, and he's way too mad at the moment to even conduct a battle.]
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[The area keeps heating up, thanks to both Guzma and Nanu's emotional output. But something else changes, courtesy of Nanu's specific brand of intensity. Everything around them is going...dark. As if night is falling, and the there's a spotlight only shone on the two. It's gradual and subtle, without going pitch-black. Just enough to visually represent the rest of the world being dulled to their senses as they focus on each other's misery.]
[Guzma's swing misses Nanu's face, but clips his arm - the same arm where he'd gotten it in the shoulder mere moments before. With grit teeth, he manages to suppress any vocalization of pain; he's not giving Guzma the satisfaction. Nor is he going to counter with any sort of offense of his own. For him, it's defense and restraint. Hurting Guzma physically isn't what he wants.]
[So he uses that hold on Guzma's shoulder, pinching with his entire hand. He intends to use that as a brief distraction, so he can grab at the hand that was just swung at him. Just another hold to buy time as they "chat"; Nanu's own grip is strong, and if he catches Guzma's wrist, then he's going to squeeze and twist it, with the forearm to follow. And at this angle, they're face-to-face again... sans mustache, this time.]
Me? Of course not. You've never been worse than a pest to me. [Guzma's most likely never seen Nanu's eyes this intense, his expression too-calm for his anger. While Nanu has a penchant for unnerving people with his stare, it's been a long while since he's donned this kind. It's so natural he doesn't have to try.] When you decided to open your rotten mouth to Anabel? That's the problem.
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It's fortunate that there aren't others really around for this spectacle, not that it'd stop it from going on, but the intensity of the heat and the sudden darkness is rather alarming. However, Guzma's so focused on what's going on that he doesn't notice the shift or temperature rising. He's way too distracted with how unfulfilling it is that he can't seem to land a hit on Nanu's face. Right now he wants to pound that stoic expression, wants to see him recoil in pain.
It matters not, particularly when a moment later Nanu squeezes his shoulder so tightly, he can't ignore the pain from it. In the next, Nanu is grasping his arm and twisting it again with surprising strength. He's such a small man, and he hardly looks like he has the strength he does, yet here he is bringing Guzma to heel. With a frustrated and angry growl, he's staring down Nanu as he further explains what this is all about.
Guzma's expression falters.]
Anabel? What the hell does she...
[And then he remembers. He remembers the last conversation he had with her, and how he joked about something he probably shouldn't have. Lead her to believe that something ill befell Nanu. It's all so ridiculous to him, and he's finding it hard to feel sympathetic.
A grin crosses his features, but it's one that's hollow and bereft of any actual joy.]
So, that's what this is about?
[He lets out a short laugh, dry and humorless.]
The fact your lay can't take a joke? Can't fuckin' deal with a little playin'? Noble Nanu here to save the damsel in distress from Big Bad Guzma, is that it!?
[His grin falls, his annoyed and aggressive expression back in full swing.]
Gimme a break.
[To most, Nanu's look, the sharpness of his gaze, would put them on edge, but to Guzma it's a challenge. It keeps him going, and now that he knows the reason for this entire thing it's just more fuel to the fire. One arm restrained, one arm free, and while the thought of striking Nanu flashes through his mind again, he goes for something else entirely.
A fist is easy enough to dodge, but what about Guzma. All of Guzma. He jerks his arm back, in an effort to fake Nanu out on trying to break free of his grasp, but without skipping a beat he attempts to full on body slam him. Hoping to take him down with his size and strength.]
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[Nanu takes care not to scoff under his breath. Anything that might make Guzma think he's gotten to him—further than what he's already done, at least. Of course. Of course that's how he'd take it and where he'd go. It's no surprise, what with the bully's inexplicable desire to tease about their relationship like a five-year-old; it just makes getting the damn point harder to jam into his ridiculously thick skull.]
I don't expect you to understand on your own. What would you know? The worst moments of your life only apply to you.
[There's no counter to Guzma's implication of their relationship; no telling him off when he calls Anabel a "damsel in distress", or making a point that she's perfectly capable of taking care of her own business, and very well has already. No, nothing like that. This isn't their usual buttons-pushing run-around. This isn't because of Guzma's usual brand of buffoonery. He crossed a line, arguably one of the only lines Nanu has that can be crossed to begin with, and Guzma doesn't fucking get it.]
[Not yet.]
[Unfortunately for the older man, Guzma's power play works. While Nanu purposefully lets go of his arm as it's jerked back, there's no time to prepare for a full-on body tackle. He can only brace himself as best he can as the larger man hurls himself forward and slams Nanu to the ground. With his head tucked forward, it doesn't impact on the ground as hard as it could have—but his back? Yeah, that does more than just smarts. Despite carefully controlling his reactions, Nanu can't stop the pained grunt from the impact. Anabel's going to be pissed it got this far.]
[Stunned, he knows he has to think of his next move quickly; otherwise he's prime for a no-holds-barred beat-down with no way out. His reaction time takes a hit from the stun, but instincts from his years of training take over. After the moments it takes to recover, his eyes snap back open after closing from the initial brace, anger and determination like a fire behind them. And he keeps talking, as though the assault never happened; the only evidence in his voice of the attack is an audible strain.]
...Would it have been a different story if that Nihilego had the chance to infect someone you actually gave a crap about?
[Oh, he knows more than he let on. And though Guzma's now got the upper hand, Nanu's not just talking shit while lying helplessly supine; one arm snaps back to whichever of Guzma's arm is closest, just as a metaphorical foothold of sorts. His other hand aims for Guzma's face. Or rather, his chin—aiming to be able to hold his jaw at literal arm's length, bypassing what could have been an implication of intent to strangle the man. And Nanu keeps going.]
One of your ex-grunts? Hala? Plumeria? Would you have felt the same fear for their life? Or would you have just appreciated the opportunity to save your own damn hide and leave them to suffer instead?
[This is a dangerous game he's taunting, Nanu knows. Clearly not above playing dirty any more than Guzma, Nanu also bends one leg at the knee as much as he can under Guzma's weight, in prime position to strike the lowest of the low if the situation starts becoming unrecoverable.]
You're the joke.
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With his tackle being a success, the force in which they hit the ground doesn't do Guzma many favors either. His one solace is the fact that Nanu acts to cushion his own impact, and that he now has the upper hand. Or so he thinks. When Nanu's hand grabs at his arm and chin, he lets out a frustrated growl. His free hand grabs at the wrist of the hand on his chin, greatly not enjoying the proximity it has to his throat.
There's a notable pause when Nanu mentions Nihilego. It strikes him, but not only because of the hypothetical situation he offers the ex-gang leader, but because he knows anything about that at all. Of course, things were different between their perspectives, to Nanu Nihilego was the only threat that Guzma had faced, the only thing that affected him in such a way. It's far from the truth, it was not just that ultra beast, but another that played in his retreat and his dismissal of Team Skull.
Everyone should know about the Necrozma bit, but not everyone should know about Nihilego. It was only him and Lusamine in that Ultra Wormhole...]
What do you want me to say? Hm?!
[He asks that, but it's honestly just a stalling tactic. He's too angry to talk emotions, or so he's telling himself. He doesn't like talking this sort of crap normally, yet here he is, on top of Nanu, angry as can be, and the old man is trying to appeal to his softer side. To his heart.]
If you think I'd abandon 'em, you're trippin'! But I don't see what that's got to do with anythin' right now!
[At least for now, they seem to be at a physical impasse, and fortunately for Nanu, less so for Guzma, he hasn't noticed the position of the other man's knee. Little does he know he's at Nanu's mercy, when it seems by all accounts the opposite.]
1/3 I'M STILL SORRY FOR THIS NOVEL
You really can't connect the dots?
[That pause is caught, though Nanu can't tell whether it's because of the hypothetical he'd asked, or because he could name Nihilego as the culprit. He doesn't have much time to dwell on it, though he takes it as some sort of good sign. The situation just isn't controlled enough to pick apart the reason, especially when he's still struggling for his own defense.]
[What else can he do? What does it take to get something through Guzma's head? Of this caliber, and after Nanu's already fucked with his head enough with a dirty trick meant to piss him off more than anything? The idea strikes him, and he first strikes it back down. It's too extreme—he's never even told the entire story to Anabel. Not in detail. Not like this. But it comes up again. And, as he struggles to maintain his grip, Nanu knows that extreme is the only thing that gets through to Guzma.]
...Let me give you a hand.
[Nanu has no reason to believe this will work, aside from the fact that weirder shit has happened in this world to begin with. But he does—else he just made a cocky remark that makes no goddamn sense and leaves Guzma thinking he's wasting their time.]
[Though they're face-to-face, he concentrates on the amulet's "system", the telepathy they've gotten equal practice in using since they arrived here. It's odd, doing it with the intended recipient right in front of him - though in a way, it feels easier. As if just looking into Guzma's eyes as he transmits the thought—the memory—is all it takes to sync minds, if only for a moment.]
2/3
He sounds authoritative. He's dressed in a suit; blazer missing and sleeves rolled up. It's dark—the middle of the night. Out in wilderness that looks familiarly tropical. Nanu refers to the other man as "100-KR". They have firearms at the ready. Constantly on the lookout. The first emotion that bleeds through is tension. Then, a thought; She shouldn't be here. This isn't right. Stern instructions to the woman to be on alert; scanning the area this way and that; a creeping chill climbing up his spine.
Then...a deep roar in the distance. A sense of alarm. Yelling at the woman to stay behind them; Nanu taking the lead; a blur of foliage and the sounds of crackling branches and crunching leaves under frantic steps. Barks of orders: "Stay back! Weapons ready!" The roars getting louder...no; the group getting closer. "There!" the woman gasps. Heads spin, teeth clench. Alarm reaches its peak.
A monster looms, black as the night. Yellow markings in stark contrast, four blue eyes glowing ominously in the dark. A massive mouth—no, three? --Shit! Shoving the woman out of the way of a thick tentacle, armed with its own crunching mouth. She falls, hard; eyes wild with panic. Nanu aims his firearm-- hell! Forced to dodge from a second tentacle gnashing its teeth at his legs. Hits the ground, rolling hard. Weapons have no effect on its humongous, conveyor-belt-like maw. Blurred vision as things go south; can't see, ears ringing, flashes of pain. Fear, an unmistakable sense of fear, barely tamped down just to try and deal with this thing--
"100-KR!"
Nanu's voice. Too late. Too late, too late, too late. The woman's blood-curdling scream. Gnashing jaws. It has her. It's too late. But she's reaching forward anyway, arms outstretched, pleading with her eyes. Fear at its maximum, swirling with grief; like ice water poured down you back. Firearms are useless. Its mobile mouths cut off Nanu's rescue attempt, her hand pulled out of reach. His heart drops into his stomach. There's no blood, how can there be no blood-- It's all in the thing's mouth. 100-KR dives for her hands. Help her, SAVE HER!
The screaming abruptly stops.
He doesn't want to look. He has to look.
Her body is mangled beyond recognition, like taffy in its jaws. Her lifeless yet still-pleading eyes lock with his before the beast's mouth clamps down for one last, sickening crunch.
Nanu yells.]
3/3
[In the wake of the memory, and Nanu's mind still reeling, Guzma receives bits and pieces flowing from Nanu's more recent memories. Like aftershocks from an earthquake; vague echoes, recognizable only by their voices.]
[Nanu. She was just bait for the UB...]
[The man—100-KR. What choice did I have? She is reaching her limit.]
[Nanu, again. With Anabel in that condition... She'll be done for if she runs into any UBs now.]
[Broken images. Guzzlord on Poni Island. Not the past—present day. Nanu's viewpoint, running, fear, determination. A cave. A roar.]
[It's over.]
[Nanu's breathing harder. His strength hasn't given out, but reliving the memory alongside Guzma hasn't helped. He tries to keep his face stoic, fighting off a grimace, a sneer. The only reason his hands aren't trembling is because he's holding onto Guzma's arm and jaw so tightly, even tighter now, they can't.]
[He says nothing.]
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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.]
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[Those parts don't come across, though. This was more than enough, and Guzma doesn't need to delve even deeper into Nanu's reason for living the way he does.]
[He can see it on the other man's face. Something he would never expect Guzma to be able to experience, let alone show even a sliver of the emotions running through his mind. Their breathing is matched, the horror still fresh. Nanu has had a decade of experience to lock the memory back up and continue on with his life. Guzma doesn't have the same luxury.]
[When Guzma drops his hold, so does Nanu. His arms fall to the ground like deadweight. The only measure he keeps in place is that bent knee of his—but at this point, he's not expecting to use it. Without any kind of hold anymore, Nanu's flat on his back and 100% vulnerable. It speaks volumes that based on Guzma's reaction, he's trusting him not to attack further. His eyes are less piercing, the fire snuffed out completely. He feels his age again. Much like the ill-fated team member, his fight is lost.]
[He swallows. There's not much you can say, after something like that.]
...Do you get it now?
[His voice conveys his equal loss of anger well. It's not accusatory, nor snappy. Nanu sounds utterly tired; emotional exhaustion befitting of a decade's worth of guilt.]
I refuse...to let that happen to Anabel. She would have...been done for. [He's taking pauses, as his breathing very slowly eases up. His eyes glance away from Guzma's for the first time since their confrontation, leaving him staring at the sky.] ...I went in her place. And when I go home...that's what I'm returning to.
[Nanu leaves the original question unvoiced for a second time. Does he get it now? What Anabel must have thought...must have gone through within seconds of Guzma's careless joke?]
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With Nanu's hold relinquished, and the older man leaving himself entirely vulnerable, Guzma has ample opportunity to attack him. To release that anger he wanted to moments prior. But the anger is gone, replaced by guilt that isn't fully his own. In short, that memory exchange has certainly fucked him up to a degree he didn't ever anticipate. Slowly he finds himself steadying his breathing, as the intensity of it all wanes.
Nanu's question goes unanswered at first. He stares down at him with a complicated expression, letting the other talk further as if he's mulling over the answer. Not daring to interrupt him, even as he takes pauses between his words.
Once he finishes, the implied question certainly noted, Guzma takes the time to move off of him, but he doesn't stand. Instead, he sits besides him, legs crossed under each other with his elbows resting on his knees, eyes locked forward before him as they focus on nothing. He almost looks zoned out, honestly.
Seemingly to be at a loss for words for once in his life, the silence persists for a few long moments. It's an odd feeling, but that's par the course in this shitshow of a situation. He draws in a breath through his nose, before letting it out—slow and even—through his mouth. It's shaky, and telling of the answer before he even says it, but the words certainly serve the purpose better:]
Had I known—had I even a clue...
[With an aggravated sound, a hand grasps at his wild hair, his face scrunching with self-aimed frustration. He doesn't finish that sentence, because it sounds too much like an excuse. It sounds too much like a lie to skirt responsibility, and he's trying to stop that, isn't he? The truth is, he did know the dangers of the Ultra Beasts. He knew what people had to face because of Lusamine—because of him. He might not have known those details, known of that specific tragic event... but he's not as much of an idiot as one might assume.
Maybe he shouldn't have joked about Nanu's life like that. Not when the subject matter was nothing to joke about, not when it weighs as heavy as it does on everyone involved. Himself included.
Finally he continues, that hand still holding tight to his hair, as if he's keeping himself on a leash:]
Look—I didn't mean no harm. But that don't change the harm done. I get it.
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[Here, now? He hopes the fact that it's not Guzma's natural memory will make it fade over time.]
[When the other man finally releases him fully, Nanu can actually relax—or as much as he can, right now. His leg falls back into a straightened position, leaving him completely supine in the dirt. In his peripheral, he sees Guzma sit down next to him, as his gaze is still unfocused on the sky. Slowly, his breathing eases toward normalcy again.]
Yeah, well. [Nanu lets out a large breath; a sigh combined with a sort of reset to his breathing.] You aren't supposed to.
[There's a double meaning there: Guzma shouldn't know in the first place, and Nanu shouldn't have shown him the memory at all. The way his voice takes on a regretful tone could imply either one. He's already thinking he owes Guzma an apology... but maybe not right this second.]
[Nanu turns when he notices movement, and frowns deeper when he sees Guzma grab his hair. Despite his dislike of the young man, the self-harming tendencies he's seen have never made him happy. He returns his gaze to the sky, before closing his eyes completely.]
Hard to mean no harm when you imply someone she holds dear didn't make it. [Accusing him further really won't help right now, he knows. But it's voiced like a fact, with no attack behind it; still just...tired. And like he knows Guzma is most likely already aware of the fact, despite how he decided to phrase it.] If I had come over like some sort of diplomat and tried to talk it out with you like a normal human being, would you have realized it the same way?
[Of course, that would be pushing aside how Guzma first handled it to Anabel herself when it first happened at all... But they're long past that, now. Like whiplash, their anger snapped to near-catatonia in the blink of an eye, leaving the two men to sort it out as equals for once.]
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An extreme measure, for sure, but Nanu shared something dark and deep with Guzma to make him understand, when he didn't have to make him understand. He didn't have to do any of that, he could have just been angry, lashed at him, mistreated him and left it at that. He didn't.
Guzma's not sure if the memory will fade, it feels like it's not going anywhere any time soon, but the details will likely fade, leaving behind an impression more than anything.]
Yeah, well what options were I givin' ya?
[He's aware, very aware of how out of hand he can get. A point of pride in the past, but now it's a point of responsibility. Trying to keep himself a bit more reined in is pretty hard, especially when he doesn't have his usual aid: Plumeria. There's Jill, of course, but even she's not here.
The reminder leaves him gripping his hair a bit tighter—but then he lets it go, letting his arm fall back into its former place. It's unfortunate how his violent tendencies are even self-aimed, but it's also unfortunate in that he believes it helps him keep in control, when in reality he's losing control.]
I know—I know.
[He huffs, it's not as indignant as it might have been any other time, and its frustration isn't even at Nanu, it's at himself. There's a lot of unlearning he's still got to do. Even if he wants to tell others he'll never change, that he's always gonna be Big Bad Guzma! The reality is, the fact of the matter is he's trying to do better. He'll never make a full turn around, he knows that, but he can do better.
Nanu's question leaves him silent as he considers it. He wants to say yes, but that's because a childish part of him still feels entirely victimized in this whole thing. He knows if the answer was truly "yes", then Nanu would be left to feel like an asshole who went too far. It'd be an empty form of vindication that he'd regret later, and fortunately the traumatic calm Nanu's shared memory brought him allows him to ignore that knee-jerk answer.]
Probably not. I know the joke was off-color, but that's the sorta humor I'm used to. The sorta shit that me and my homies did to get by. It was easier to laugh at and joke about the rotten shit goin' on, y'know, not take shit too seriously, that way it didn't feel like it affected us as much.
[They romanticized such negativity, desensitized to what most would be appalled by. They were all sensitive kids, but their sensitivity was different than most, and that's honestly where this whole thing came from. Oddly enough, it's feeling easier and easier to just talk to Nanu. Likely because of the vulnerability the other man had shown Guzma.
Not that he wants to spill his guts to him, but here's a chance to make things right, or as right as they can be. And Guzma wants that.]
I ain't makin' no excuse, don't get me wrong. Just explainin' myself. Anabel's fine, I wouldn't intentionally do nothin' to hurt her, she don't deserve that. I wanted to mess with her a li'l, but my choice on what about wasn't great, I can admit that.
[He lets out a sigh, before looking over at Nanu, his mouth pressing to a thin line as he grimaces. It's hard. Hard to admit when you're wrong, after spending almost a decade running from everything: his dad, authorities, responsibility. Who knew his greatest challenge in life would be acting like an adult?]
I was too caught off guard by my own mistake and her reaction that it felt easier to get mad at her for not gettin' it; even though there's no reason she should have.
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[It just so happens that the eventual solution went hand-in-hand with baring Nanu's darkest and most well-kept secret. And the aforementioned regret he's already starting to feel stems largely from the decision being a split-second, emotionally driven one. Guzma's change of heart is ultimately what they both needed, but a side-effect of Nanu's brand of equally malicious revenge. It's what he truly wanted, deep down. He just needs to come to terms with Guzma's new insight into Nanu's mind.]
[The admission of his self-awareness is, admittedly, nice. Any self-awareness at all is a sad sort of refreshing in his presence. Nanu doesn't know if this has always been something that Guzma's known on some sort of level in the back of that hard head of his, or if it's a completely new concept earned from his experience back home. Either way, the price it takes to reveal is way too high.]
[The honesty is refreshing, too—though it feels more like a sudden splash of cold water. Ultimately, it ends up feeling nice on a hot summer day, but the initial impact is still a biting shock to your system.]
You think you and your gang are the only ones? [Nanu makes a noise between a snort and a scoff.] I've lived off of morbid quips for years.
[And then a sigh.] And believe me, I know what it's like to take things too far.
[But not...that far. Though, even if he had...]
Thing is, if you hadn't acted like a child once you realized your mistake, we wouldn't have had to have this little song and dance. [Guzma just said he's not making excuses, but Nanu still feels like it needs saying out loud.] Anabel doesn't like you, but if you had just avoided doubling-down and blaming her for believing exactly what only you would know...
[Yeah, he gets it. It's hard not to really rub in the fact, though. He goes quiet for a pause after trailing off, opening his eyes to contemplate the sky again—visible again since their scuffle, he notices.]
But that's hard for you not to do, isn't it.
[Still not accusatory. It's not a direct question, either, but it's implied.]
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Who knows what lengths Guzma might go to get attention someone is denying him, after all.
If anything, all of this makes Guzma respect Nanu more. In as much as he's got respect for anyone, really. Even with Guzma being in mid reformation, he still admires people's wickedness and this was indeed a wicked blow. He certainly hasn't ever had someone make him do a complete 180 with his anger before—even if Nanu couldn't have done it without their amulets, but that's besides the point.]
Guess we ain't that different then, huh?
[The way he says that isn't as smug as it probably normally would be. Instead, there's a strange somberness to it. In truth, it's implying more than what's equally known between them. Guzma knows Nanu's trauma, but the same can't be said for Nanu.
As Nanu continues to nag him, Guzma takes his gaze elsewhere. Part of him bristles at being scolded, even if it's not as harsh as it could be. He doesn't let his anger rise though, and instead settles on scowling at the ground. At the not-quite-a-question, Guzma shrugs his shoulders, and for a few solid moments it seems like he's not going to answer.
He shakes his head, letting out an aggravated, yet defeated, sigh.]
I don't know—I guess so? Never been too good at keeping my anger in check, even when it'd be in my best interest.
[A statement that seems needless to say. Anyone who knows Guzma, knows Guzma's anger just as well. He never leaves home without it! It's strange how easy it is to talk about this, but that's likely because he's still a bit emotionally dazed. That memory share was like a tranq to the dickhead part of his brain, the part that makes him withdraw from people, and dismiss them. The part that maintains that emotional wall he puts up.]
Fightin' and beatin' people down is all I know, Nanu. It's what I grew up on, it's what I formed Team Skull around, it's just who I am. When I feel a fight startin', I can't help it, yo.
[There's some truth to that, but Guzma is also oversimplifying himself in this equation. He's more than that, but when he cycles back into those paces, and it leads to this sort of outcome, maybe it's not entirely unreasonable for him to think this.
On the other hand, it sounds like he's looping back into an excuse, and maybe he is, even if unintentional. Even if it's a really shitty excuse at that.]
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[With a grunt he doesn't bother to suppress, Nanu gets up into a sitting position next to Guzma. Or, uses the arm that he wasn't punched in twice to force himself up, hunched over a little bit more than usual. There's more than just a twinge in his back. Boy, but Anabel's going to kill him.]
Uh-huh. [he grunts, sarcastically,] Two peas in a pod.
[He at least acknowledges to himself that it could have been put way worse, by Guzma's standards. The sarcasm in his voice isn't as much as it could be, either, given Guzma's somber tone and Nanu's own mental exhaustion. Still, what a comparison to make...]
[Nanu keeps quiet, knowing the other man will answer when he's ready. It's another tally in the proverbial "good" column that Guzma doesn't argue immediately...or at all. There are words coming out of his mouth in an order that he's likely never put them in before. The introspection is giving Nanu insight to how the deepest recesses of Guzma's mind work when there's no ego obstacles to impede them.]
Yes, you can.
[His tone takes a lot of the implied blame out of his reply, but not all of it. Much like Guzma, he's not snapping and accusing out of anger or spite. It's just...advice. Nanu's trying to help, in a thankfully much better way than fifteen minutes ago.]
You're capable. You've never tried or wanted to try. And that's probably what Hala's going to try and get through to you. [Without this added breakthrough, of course... Alas. Nanu may continue his "nagging", but sitting up and right next to Guzma like this, it feels closer to actual conversation than talking down to the younger man] Your ego's too damned big for that head of yours. You'd rather die than show any kind of weakness.
Am I right?
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It's no quick process, and there's going to be many mistakes along the way. The main question, however, is whether or not he can pull through, and considering his track record, it only makes sense someone wouldn't hold their breath for it. Especially Nanu, seeing as he's a bit more familiar with the man than most. The burden of being Team Skull's neighbor.
Nanu's sarcastic quip didn't go unappreciated. They're markedly different as they come, yet they have their surprising similarities. Perhaps their relationship could have been a better one, had Guzma not gone down the path he did, but there's no changing the mistakes of the past. There's only living with them, and endeavoring to not repeat them.]
Tch...
[It's not much of a response to Nanu's initial reply. Guzma can feel his hackles starting to rise, but his emotional exhaustion keeps him in check. He doesn't like being called out on most things, but this is particularly sensitive. Being told he's capable, and being called out on the fact he's never wanted to try not to fight with people silences him a bit further. It's certainly true, and he knows it, but it doesn't change how he feels, or how he always reacts.
That mention of Hala settles him, however. Hala had been doing a lot with him, challenging him—with more than just Pokèmon battles. Slowly that old man's words had begun to worm their way into his mind, and little by little he was indeed improving. It was subtle, so subtle that Guzma hadn't fully realized how things have been changing for him.
The subtly also kept him saying a similar script, his mind still thinking himself far more simple than he actually is. His social Darwinism still a great part of his mindset towards the world. So when Nanu goes on to call him out on his unwillingness to appear weak, it really just seals his point. Nanu doesn't even have to ask if he's right, because he quite obviously is.
Guzma's mouth presses to a thin line as he looks at Nanu—it's a sidelong glance, not fully turning his head to look at him.]
You're not wrong, nah. But that's basic survival. The moment you show weakness is when you get your ass beat. I'm no fool, I ain't gonna be beaten down by nobody.
[In Guzma's mind it's destroy or be destroyed. It's how it's been for far too long. It's that mentality, that anger, and hostility that robbed him of the chance to be a captain; ultimately fueling his rage. His anger problems are a vicious cyclical nightmare that is never ending in its self-sustaining nature. It torments and blinds him to the reality of his actions; a dual-pronged self-sabotage that leaves him more damaged and unfulfilled, while leaving him to feel disenfranchised by everyone else.
Even now he struggles to fully realize what he's denied himself because of his own ego and self-destructive coping. Slowly Hala is helping him see the error of his ways, but over a decade of conditioning doesn't go away so easily.]
But that's life. You're either strong, or you're weak. If you're gonna be showin' everyone how weak you are, it ain't no one's fault but your own when you get smashed.
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[But he's always assumed it was more for Guzma's status than anything. Plumeria, now she's a different story.]
[Nanu can tell when his comments are starting to get through, at a much faster pace than normal. Hala's always been a point with him - though what kind of point has changed drastically. At least now Nanu can chalk it up to being a positive one than a volatile negative. And it looks like he's been training with the other Island Kahuna for a bit longer than he initially thought.]
[The side-eye he's given is matched in kind. He arches one eyebrow as Guzma explains his reasoning, though it isn't a surprising revelation in the least.]
Oh? Well, hard to argue with that. Goes hand in hand with pokémon battling, doesn't it? The weakest team loses, the trainer with the weakest will fails... Kids just starting out as new trainers get crushed, tossed aside, and are forced to give up their pokémon so they can never train a day again in their lives... Hm.
[oh wait look at that it isn't so hard to argue after all]
There's a reason humans and pokémon help each other. You know that just as much. Asking for help doesn't make you weak, it makes you smart. Thinking that everyone gets their behind handed to them when they show the slightest sign of weakness isn't "just life". That's learned.
[He says that last point with a hint of...knowing.]
But if you want to keep thinking that, why stop at hypotheticals? You're showing weakness right now. We both are, talking about this sort of crap. Hey, I just showed you the worst night of my life; I've got a big beat-down coming, then, huh? We should be punished, then, shouldn't we? [These are all conversationally rhetorical, used to make his point; slow and thoughtful, not dished out in rapid succession to put the other man down. But if Guzma doesn't agree with them, despite what he's just finished saying, then it's a big crack in the foundation.] How about Anabel? She showed weakness when she thought I was dead. But then, you just said a minute ago that she didn't deserve what you said to her. ...Doesn't make much sense with what you're saying now, does it?
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Plumeria is truly the one who kept everything together. Without her the whole concept would have likely fallen apart. She was Guzma's leash and conscience most the time—not that Guzma doesn't have a conscience, but rather she kept him in check when he couldn't. Which was pretty often.
Hala and Guzma has always been a bit of a turbulent relationship, first a person of security, guidance, and comfort. Eventually becoming a point of soreness and contention, and ultimately a misplaced idea of betrayal. But hence he has resumed being his mentor and master, and slowly their relationship has been mended, and Guzma's view of him has begun to restore to its former glory. Which also means that Hala's mention will always be an in with him, it will pacify and remind him of what he's working towards, what he's fixing, even when he's being stubborn and bullheaded as usual.]
I—you know what I mean, old man!
[There's frustration there, but less so with Nanu, and more so with himself. Of course he didn't mean something so dramatic as that, the weak can still train, they can still become strong, But until then, they're fated to be pummeled again and again. With a pout, though Guzma would argue it's a scowl, he crosses his arms over his chest and looks away from Nanu. It's all very childish looking, but Guzma again would argue the legitimacy of that claim.
As Nanu continues to pick apart Guzma's poorly constructed and greatly fallible view point, he remains silent. Stewing over what he's saying. Before, he might get angry and yell at the other over it. Asking about whether or not they're looking for a beat down! He wasn't about people challenging his view point, nor the terrible shit he's learned. Even being told it was learned would have set him off, because it's absolutely true.
But he's changed. Small and subtle, but enough. His hackles lower even more as Nanu points out how weak they both have been here. How Guzma has let down his guards, how he's contradicted himself and it leaves Guzma feeling... lost.
He feels foolish, but also defiant, but at the same time what would that defiance do? They've already talked, they've already come to this point, so running away now wouldn't help anything. Even if he attempted to save face, it'd make him seem weaker for it, make him seem like a cowward. Not to mention, with the recent mention of Hala, he can't help but think about the shit they've discussed. The help he's sought in his old mentor.
Maybe, just maybe, weak needs to be redefined in his lexicon.]
Shit, I don't know. It don't—I guess.
[Guzma's voice is quieter than it usually is, it's lacking that certain edge he emphasizes his words with. It's a little painfully obvious how stumped he is, and that's a good thing. Nanu's certainly given him something to think about, an endeavor that a couple months ago would have been entirely wasted on him. It's painfully awkward and he feels more vulnerable now, than he did when approaching Hala about seeking mentoring once more. Guzma had a history with Hala, and while he's known Nanu for a fair amount of time, it's different.
Yet, here they are. Two sad broken men confiding in one another, despite everything.]
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[Cripes, what is with this world and getting him to appreciate they're all stuck in it? First Anabel, now this? He doesn't want to like being stuck here, yet all of these changes were made possible because of it.]
[And he really doesn't envy Hala, when they go back home.]
[Nanu snorts, almost amused, at Guzma's reaction, like a watered-down toddler's tantrum; he just needs to hold his breath to complete the metaphor. Yet, he remains quiet, and most importantly listening, which is the most Nanu could ask for at this point. The almost casual tone of the conversation is no doubt helping in his favor, instead of stoking the flames; which, in truth, have already been dampened to begin with.]
[He can tell his words are sinking in. The way they're both sitting outside on the ground in the middle of a path like a couple of children, talking about their feelings in an impromptu therapy session... Well, how could he word it any differently?]
[After Guzma's quiet admission, Nanu lets silence rule the pause. It's another rarity for Guzma to agree with him, and an even bigger one to admit he's wrong. Letting it stand without interruption for a moment or two is the least he can do, instead of jumping right back into it and making the other man feel like his words are unappreciated.]
...I'd say that's progress right there.
[Though he's incapable of reading Guzma's mind (thank god), Nanu's next words seem to go hand-in-hand with what he's mulling over.]
It's hard, to be vulnerable. I get that—I do. [An inkling of experience creeps into his tone again; a reassurement that Nanu's not just saying it for the sake of saying it. ...Of course, that might be undercut, because for a moment, Nanu chuckles.] Heh. What was it you said to me, just last month? "I ask, but don't seem so invested", I think it was? "Just because I have a job, doesn't mean I give a shit"?
[The humor doesn't last, and the last chuckle dies down with a breathless scoff.]
Hell, it's easy to stay locked up in that mindset. Locked up in the station, shutting the world out. Just like being locked in Po Town, shutting out everyone else. ...Locked in the mindset that weakness needs to be beaten. Even when it's yourself.
[Another pause. This time, instead of just today's event, it's the years worth of hardened depression and exhaustion that comes through his voice.]
The façade needs to come down, sometimes.
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Of course, being here, one might think progress could reverse, that without someone to keep Guzma in line he'd go back to his old ways unabated. If anything, this confrontation between them has proven quite the opposite. It's certainly sped up the process, and saved both of them from endless spats and misunderstandings, and let us not forget Guzma being inanely stubborn. This world certainly offered some useful tools, especially when dealing with someone as thick-skulled as Guzma.
The silence is heavy, but it helps everything sink in. Really sink in. It's a little difficult, all of this has been so much information, and Guzma's not a man with a mind made for vast amounts of information under even normal circumstances. It's exhausting emotionally, but that in itself is a good thing. It's well been past the time for Guzma to exercise his empathy and understanding.
He looks to Nanu when he mentions the thoughtless nonsense he had said to him before. When he said it, it felt and sounded true, but also inconsequential. It's clearly anything but, and perhaps it was a little cruel of him to say about the other man. Especially knowing what he does now. His expression is rather subtle, he's clearly attempting to stay neutral, but there's the obvious tinge of guilt behind it. The way his brow creases, how his mouth is pulled into a slight frown., how his eyes seem to oscillate over Nanu's face.]
...I shouldn't have said that. I didn't know what the fuck I was talkin' about.
[For Nanu's point, though. That's... harder. That requires him to open up in ways he never thought he could. To drop the façade—to let down the total tough guy act. There's a strange anxiety twisting in the pit of his stomach, and he's not quite sure what to do, or even say at this point.
After a moment that feels longer than it actually is, he does speak up. His gaze falling to the grass in front of him as his face scrunches a little. It's not a look of anger. Maybe disappointment? It's hard to tell.]
I don't know if I know how.
[It's honest and earnest. With a knowing behind it that isn't usual for him. It's not that he disagrees with Nanu, in fact they have been doing it quite a bit here. However, the circumstance has greatly lent itself to facilitate that in Guzma. But to do that without such an aid? He's not sure he can.]
It's not that I'm—I ain't scared. Nothin' scares me—
[A lie, and he knows it. His eyes narrow as his brow further creases with growing self-aimed irritation.]
—Not a lot scares me, [A much needed correction,] but this ain't a turf I'm familiar with. I don't—I don't wanna go gettin' comfortable showin' weakness, and then showin' it to the wrong asshole.
[Which paints a pretty good picture of Guzma and some of his trust issues. Very few have been able to break past his tough exterior, but even then it's taken time and nudging for him to talk. But even then he keeps some shit locked up tight, unable to truly delve into the depths. This reflects his behavior as a whole, because he's afraid and he doesn't even know it.]
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[Well... Nanu can hope.]
[The long silences help the older man, too. No constant talking or feeling the need to throw quips and jabs. The aforementioned listening that Guzma's finally doing is refreshing. Nanu can finally enjoy their time together.]
[When Guzma shifts to look at Nanu, he turns his head in kind and quickly studies the other man's expression. Tally another mark in the surprise column; so far, Nanu's heard the guilt in Guzma's voice. Now he's seeing it on his face. But, once he speaks and pseudo-apologizes, he'll find that Nanu actually grins again.]
You're right—you didn't know. But look at me. Of course that's what people think. [He shrugs half-heartedly; a casual reassurement for Guzma's guilt.] I like to do things on the down-low. Even back in Po Town. You didn't see everything I did, and that was the point. It's easier if folks don't know. Low expectations...and people don't get attached.
[It isn't lost on Nanu that his last point will most likely resonate just as much with Guzma. Don't get close to people, and you don't get hurt, right? Or in Nanu's case, the other person doesn't get hurt. Either way, they each have their own form of isolation. And Nanu's still working on his.]
[He watches Guzma as a cavalcade of emotions brew in his thoughts. Again, he stays silent to let the other man speak uninterrupted; get his thoughts in order. He can tell it's especially hard right now, as Guzma stops and starts again like he's a record that's skipping as it plays.]
[During the next pause, Nanu nods. Partially to signal to Guzma that he understands, and partially to himself. A thought has been brewing since they've sat down to talk, and now it's come to a head. The catalyst was Guzma finally admitting that he's capable of, and has been, being scared.]
It won't be easy. I'm not telling you to try and change who you are cold-Stantler. It takes time. [And boy, doesn't he know it.] And you would never let someone walk all over you. But letting down your guard to let someone else in... it's a gamble, I won't lie.
But it's worth it to try.
[Good thing Guzma's not in the mood to tease about him and Anabel... But it might be obvious that it's what he's thinking of.]
[And finally, the idea stewing in Nanu's mind decides to come out. After a brief pause, he takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly.]
...I'm no Hala. Can't expect the same dynamic. ...But if you think that gamble is worth the risk, and you actually want to try... I don't see any harm in helping you figure it out.
[He's not going to say the word "mentor" outright, but the fact that he name-dropped Hala again—well. It's obvious what he's offering.]
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It won't be perfect, Guzma is far from that, but even if he does it half the time, that's still better than before.
The guilt doesn't wholly leave Guzma, even when Nanu downplays the statement. Maybe it'd be more of a reassurance if Guzma didn't feel like such a fool for not realizing it. If it didn't take this to make him realize that Nanu actually gave a fuck about anything. In fact, he wears a mask, not unlike Guzma's own, to conceal how much he cares, yet despite that Guzma truly believed his indifference.]
Yeah. I ain't ever gonna fully change.
[It's not a statement of defiance, just a matter of fact. Who he is, is just who he is. What he wants to change is how he reacts to things, how he proceeds forward, and how he navigates his social interactions. It's hard, so damn hard to break away from these self-destructive tendencies... but Nanu's right, he's right and he knows it.
Had this been under less serious circumstances, he most certainly would have taken the low hanging fruit of a tease about Nanu and Anabel—but that's what got him into this mess to begin with. Perhaps not that general vein of joking, but their relationship in general was the kindling for the fire he lit under his own ass.
As he goes to reply, he hears the breath Nanu takes and releases, and decides to let the man finish. It's certainly not something he expected to hear from Nanu, and it leaves him quiet once more. His expression hides nothing that goes on between his ears. Twisting into a mixture of bafflement and uncertainty. Less so because of the idea of having Nanu as a mentor, but more so because Nanu would offer it at all.
He's touched, honestly, and he leans his elbows on his knees once more as he thinks about it, his face falling to something more contemplative in nature. An expression rarely seen on Guzma, but it's there all the same.
Hala is his master, but also Hala is not here. Nor will he be for the foreseeable future. Maybe tomorrow Hala will show up, maybe he will never show up. It's not exactly a betrayal to Hala to take Nanu on as his stand in, and if anything he owes it to Hala to keep up with his progress, even if he's not here, right? This seems like an opportunity that even Guzma isn't stupid enough to spit in the face of.
A shallow nod at first, and then he speaks.]
Yeah... Alright, yeah. I'd like that. You ain't Hala, but—
[He pauses a moment, thinking his words over carefully before continuing.]
I trust you, and I respect you. I could use your help.
[It feels weird to say it, especially to Nanu. They do not have the history he does with Hala, but now there's been something so intimately shared with him, he'd feel like an idiot to not show Nanu the same sort of trust.]
comes back weeks late w starbucks
[Not many people know Nanu's true nature beyond his laziness and sour attitude. Those aren't masks, at least; but they serve as the foundation for one. He rarely gives a crap about what other people think of him, and that included Guzma. For the ex-Skull leader, that was on purpose. It was a different story for his grunts, and even Plumeria. Nanu assumes the grunts just didn't mention the things their Kahuna did for our with them, likely because it would signify some sort of weakness to their feared leader. Now, maybe Nanu can tell him of those things some time.]
[For now, though, the focus is on Guzma and his actions... and words. It wasn't just Nanu and Anabel's relationship that lit the proverbial fire–it was Guzma's cruel "joke" and subsequently how he handled her very reasonable response that dug the fire pit deeper.]
[Nanu guesses he should wait to tell him to apologize to Anabel. Baby steps, and all that.]
[He goes quiet once again, to leave room for the other man to think. It's a hefty proposal, despite how casual he tried to make it. And it's something even Nanu's thinking twice about, considering Guzma's track record. But he wouldn't be offering if this situation wasn't as serious as it became.]
[Though, he doesn't look at Guzma's face as he thinks; no watching, no hovering. It's the least he can do, to give the man some privacy, even if it's entirely in Guzma's head. Not until he speaks again does Nanu turn back to him and really sees the seriousness on his face. Whether he accepts or declines is entirely up to him, and at this point, Nanu's not fully sure which to expect.]
[So it's a pleasant surprise when Guzma not only accepts–but admits respect. That brings a modicum of surprise to Nanu's face. It had to be monumentally hard for him to admit, but ultimately Nanu's a little touched, too. He can tell it's not a bluff.]
Alright then. [He nods, looking Guzma in the eye.] We've got a deal.
[It would probably be weird for them to seal it with a handshake or something. Nanu's never been fond of that crap. The real seal is showing progress.]
Well... [A sigh; perhaps noticeably less serous, and more his normal long-suffering self.] ...Guess this means I gotta give you permission to bother me now, huh?
[An attempt at levity, after all this shit.]
If the starbucks is a strawberry horchata ur 4given
Surprising as it might be, Guzma doesn't seem to mind weakness in his grunts so much, otherwise why else would he take in a bunch of failures? They all sucked at Pokèmon, but he brought them in anyways. That doesn't mean they understood his weird double standard than anyone else, but really what mattered in terms of strength and weakness was Guzma's own perception of it. Allies could be weak, but he couldn't be weak to anyone, and if opponents showed any weakness, he struck at their vulnerabilities without mercy. Weak grunts meant no power struggle, no competition, it worked in his favor.
Fortunately Nanu won't need to tell Guzma to apologize, because he'll certainly attempt that on his own after this, with little success. But he's going to try, and that's what matters?
The lack of staring at him while he made his decision was nice, Guzma's not a deep thinker, and if Nanu watched him meanwhile he might have gotten a little agitated, so being able to be left with his thoughts and decide... well, it certainly helped him figure it out. The look of surprise on Nanu is a nice touch, getting reactions from the older man, no matter how small, was always a win.]
Yeah, guess we do.
[It's strange, and it might not stop being strange for a while, but strange isn't always a bad thing. Guzma likewise makes no move to seal this with a hand shake, not really his style. Besides, he's probably touched Nanu enough as it is in this whole ordeal.
Guzma grins at the little joke, a welcomed change of pace considering everything.]
You sure you gonna be able to handle that?
[He has little intention to overrun Nanu's life or anything, but it's as much of a joke as it is a serious question. Guzma may not always be self-aware, but he knows he's a handful. A point of pride in the past, after all.]
walks out another week later sipping definitely not that
How dare you