[ yeah beau is strong as SHIT sometimes you are a monk and ichiro is only a teenage boy, even if he's strong for one! he struggles a little, pissed, but is now held in place. ]
Every fucking time I've tried to do something here, it's gone wrong. Couldn't win that fucking auction, can't figure out a fucking thing about this place no matter how hard I try to think about it because I'm not smart enough to keep up with anybody, couldn't keep Hope from jumping out of a fucking window, can't keep Iris from - anything, couldn't help Lucretia-san on Thursday -- I haven't been able to do shit! It's always like this, the only fucking thing I've ever been any good at is breaking shit and I can't even do that!
[ finally, at the end, his voice cracks -- the anger breaks, for a second, and he jerks his head away, taking a loud, unhappy breath, and this time, he's quieter -- still laced with fury, but that pain is even more obvious, now as he finishes - ] How the fuck am I supposed to help people here, Beau? Do shitty jokes on the marquee? Make food? That's it?
[ the way he got pushed away on saturday and sunday was a fissure in a long series of pressures that seem to have finally cracked open today, but it reminded him so much of kuko that it terrified him. more than he was ever willing to admit or show - having someone suddenly turn their back like that with nothing he could do about it was so fucking viscerally familiar that it was like being punched in the gut. and then not being able to help solve the problem - as someone else was able to, as here, someone else has always been able to - was like a second one. this time, the reason and grief for it was obvious, palpable, but it still...
...every time he's ever reached out to someone else to rely on - an older figure, especially, but a friend, too - it's slapped him in the face. every time. ]
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Every fucking time I've tried to do something here, it's gone wrong. Couldn't win that fucking auction, can't figure out a fucking thing about this place no matter how hard I try to think about it because I'm not smart enough to keep up with anybody, couldn't keep Hope from jumping out of a fucking window, can't keep Iris from - anything, couldn't help Lucretia-san on Thursday -- I haven't been able to do shit! It's always like this, the only fucking thing I've ever been any good at is breaking shit and I can't even do that!
[ finally, at the end, his voice cracks -- the anger breaks, for a second, and he jerks his head away, taking a loud, unhappy breath, and this time, he's quieter -- still laced with fury, but that pain is even more obvious, now as he finishes - ] How the fuck am I supposed to help people here, Beau? Do shitty jokes on the marquee? Make food? That's it?
[ the way he got pushed away on saturday and sunday was a fissure in a long series of pressures that seem to have finally cracked open today, but it reminded him so much of kuko that it terrified him. more than he was ever willing to admit or show - having someone suddenly turn their back like that with nothing he could do about it was so fucking viscerally familiar that it was like being punched in the gut. and then not being able to help solve the problem - as someone else was able to, as here, someone else has always been able to - was like a second one. this time, the reason and grief for it was obvious, palpable, but it still...
...every time he's ever reached out to someone else to rely on - an older figure, especially, but a friend, too - it's slapped him in the face. every time. ]