[Ogata really doesn’t stand a chance against the might of Beau unrestrained. That said, he’s trying his hardest, scratching and fighting to get free, to push her off of him, maybe even get in a punch or two in. But compared to Beau they’re barely anything, and by the time he seems to give up, his nice shirt is already streaked with blood.
But then as he seems to slacken, he draws his arms into himself, like a guard, his forearms covering his face. And he speaks in a soft, oddly pitiful voice. Barely above a whisper. It might not even be audible to anyone but Beau.]
Beauregard. I envy you, you know. If only I had more time, maybe I could have found my own place, too.
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But then as he seems to slacken, he draws his arms into himself, like a guard, his forearms covering his face. And he speaks in a soft, oddly pitiful voice. Barely above a whisper. It might not even be audible to anyone but Beau.]
Beauregard. I envy you, you know. If only I had more time, maybe I could have found my own place, too.