[ of course, he hardly sees anything wrong with what he's said — it isn't that he actively believes edwin would not, you know, listen to him, and more that edwin plays trauma olympics like a pro, and that's one game he will always, always win; so really, what do his issues matter, when compared to the enormity that is hell? and his death, even more so; edwin had been there, after all. he already knows everything relevant to know, why would he talk about it?
but that's not the point here, at all — they're not talking about him, the focus here is junpei and his experiences, which... oh, hm, apparently charles' emotions aren't quite stable, yet, because that — the response that he'd got, back then — makes him grit his teeth in a fresh wave of anger. ]
What the hell? You — I mean, not like I knew you before we met here, but... you said you were a PI, yeah? [ with a quiet sigh, no less angry but understanding, too, ] Being a detective fucking sucks, sometimes. A lot of the time, actually, unless you've got ways to get through the stuff you see and hear.
[ at least he's already dead; that gives you something against it all, as does the knowledge that he's also dealing with already dead people. for junpei, it must've been even worse, and for him to have received no sympathy for it at all —
he pulls junpei to him, then, squeezing him close for a moment as he takes a few deep breaths, give him a second — ]
Right, [ he says, pulling back, looking at junpei, the anger replaced by something soft and quiet. ] Right, I'll ask. But if you don't wanna answer, then just say pass, yeah? And I'll ask something else.
no subject
but that's not the point here, at all — they're not talking about him, the focus here is junpei and his experiences, which... oh, hm, apparently charles' emotions aren't quite stable, yet, because that — the response that he'd got, back then — makes him grit his teeth in a fresh wave of anger. ]
What the hell? You — I mean, not like I knew you before we met here, but... you said you were a PI, yeah? [ with a quiet sigh, no less angry but understanding, too, ] Being a detective fucking sucks, sometimes. A lot of the time, actually, unless you've got ways to get through the stuff you see and hear.
[ at least he's already dead; that gives you something against it all, as does the knowledge that he's also dealing with already dead people. for junpei, it must've been even worse, and for him to have received no sympathy for it at all —
he pulls junpei to him, then, squeezing him close for a moment as he takes a few deep breaths, give him a second — ]
Right, [ he says, pulling back, looking at junpei, the anger replaced by something soft and quiet. ] Right, I'll ask. But if you don't wanna answer, then just say pass, yeah? And I'll ask something else.