[He actually scoffed at the sudden turn of attitude, though he wasn't entirely surprised. But he wasn't the one that started it. Either way, he hadn't thought about that name in literal years, and hearing it now rang some weird bells in his head that he wasn't particularly fond of.
That being said, if the little guy wanted to throw out the tough "I'm cold and heartless and scary" act, he could play along. The sound of his voice laughing rippled through the air for a moment, a sharp bark of a sound that was less humor and more sardonic.]
I mean, I would assume that much was obvious.
[Which was the point he focused himself again, manifesting for him to see, only this time he was...different. Grey, pale skin, drawn, haggard appearance, his hair not only unkempt - that would have been too much like 'Nico's' careless appearance - but completely askew, sticking to his head as if damp and limp and, well, lifeless.
He didn't give him the whole thing, though. He saved him from seeing the blood, the tatters in his clothes where Chapel's bladed weapon had tore into his chest and bullets had riddled his body, and he kept the sunglasses on so that he didn't have to see his own eyes glazed over and cloudy-blue. He was very obviously dead, but he wasn't grotesque. He wasn't that much of an asshole.]
I mean, you're kind of preaching to the choir there, you know. [And then the image faded out just as quickly as it had appeared. He honestly didn't like looking like that, anyway, so the less time spent manifesting it just to torment his younger self, the better.] I forgot how much I hated being called that, though. Just...makes everything worse, doesn't it? You don't even get to keep your identity. They took everything from us, even tried to take our name...Don't let them. I know you don't feel like you have a choice, most of the time, but...you do still deserve to keep that, at least. It's what the people who actually matter call you, anyway...
[Not that he expected the other him to be able to accept the advice. He remembered, albiet distantly at this point, just how deeply the self-loathing had run. It never had gone away fully, either, but...at least it wasn't as bad for him as he knew the man in front of him was feeling. Maybe he could learn to accept it sooner than he had, instead of right at the end.]
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That being said, if the little guy wanted to throw out the tough "I'm cold and heartless and scary" act, he could play along. The sound of his voice laughing rippled through the air for a moment, a sharp bark of a sound that was less humor and more sardonic.]
I mean, I would assume that much was obvious.
[Which was the point he focused himself again, manifesting for him to see, only this time he was...different. Grey, pale skin, drawn, haggard appearance, his hair not only unkempt - that would have been too much like 'Nico's' careless appearance - but completely askew, sticking to his head as if damp and limp and, well, lifeless.
He didn't give him the whole thing, though. He saved him from seeing the blood, the tatters in his clothes where Chapel's bladed weapon had tore into his chest and bullets had riddled his body, and he kept the sunglasses on so that he didn't have to see his own eyes glazed over and cloudy-blue. He was very obviously dead, but he wasn't grotesque. He wasn't that much of an asshole.]
I mean, you're kind of preaching to the choir there, you know. [And then the image faded out just as quickly as it had appeared. He honestly didn't like looking like that, anyway, so the less time spent manifesting it just to torment his younger self, the better.] I forgot how much I hated being called that, though. Just...makes everything worse, doesn't it? You don't even get to keep your identity. They took everything from us, even tried to take our name...Don't let them. I know you don't feel like you have a choice, most of the time, but...you do still deserve to keep that, at least. It's what the people who actually matter call you, anyway...
[Not that he expected the other him to be able to accept the advice. He remembered, albiet distantly at this point, just how deeply the self-loathing had run. It never had gone away fully, either, but...at least it wasn't as bad for him as he knew the man in front of him was feeling. Maybe he could learn to accept it sooner than he had, instead of right at the end.]