(strangely enough, in death, there's slightly more space for mikey to feel alive. not much has changed within him, but without subordinates, without an organization, with no concerns about quarterly smuggling orders or whether the police has anything at all on him, it allows for him to breathe a little easier.
not that it's all flowers as mikey exists in this place. even in the afterlife, it'd be a lie to say that his dark impulses don't suffocate him, or that his brain fog has lifted, his memory improved, and his dissociation left - it's actually even worse, which he could never have imagined being true. instead, it feels like this place has given the darkness deep within his heart has now been given a megaphone, and it screeches into his ear ever so often.
"look at you. protect them? you? from you? you clearly can't stop yourself, monster. one down, and if you hadn't thrown yourself from that building? two? three? stay away from everyone. you'll hurt them in the end."
"shinichiro died. baji died. emma died. and you're a corpse. a walking corpse that does nothing but destroy. they'd sure be absolutely thrilled to see what you've become, you piece of shit."
"and of course! you couldn't just live! what about izana's dream, you idiot? you're walking away from that too? you're weak weak weak weak WEAK YOUR STRENGTH MEANS NOTHING."
"you'll never be like him."
and those are devastating, as much as he believes them wholeheartedly ever so often. so, he'll do what makes him feel closer to himself, a grounding exercise of sorts, as he hangs by the harbor and twists tools around a marine propulsion, white hair full of grease and hands black from it, as it sits patiently at the harbor.
mikey just hears commotion near him, and he cannot let go of the mechanical part he's holding at the moment. so, he'll use that commanding voice that has got him so far in life.)
the harbors
not that it's all flowers as mikey exists in this place. even in the afterlife, it'd be a lie to say that his dark impulses don't suffocate him, or that his brain fog has lifted, his memory improved, and his dissociation left - it's actually even worse, which he could never have imagined being true. instead, it feels like this place has given the darkness deep within his heart has now been given a megaphone, and it screeches into his ear ever so often.
and those are devastating, as much as he believes them wholeheartedly ever so often. so, he'll do what makes him feel closer to himself, a grounding exercise of sorts, as he hangs by the harbor and twists tools around a marine propulsion, white hair full of grease and hands black from it, as it sits patiently at the harbor.
mikey just hears commotion near him, and he cannot let go of the mechanical part he's holding at the moment. so, he'll use that commanding voice that has got him so far in life.)
Hey, you! Pass me that wrench, please.