The psychological marks Rico is almost hitting have left Kubo silent and solemn, his paper slowing to momentarily hang in the air before fluttering to the ground.
But he doesn't look upset anymore. Because as close as Rico is to hitting those mental targets, Kubo's life has been too strange for even a Mega City 1 class to predict.
Father wanted to be there to raise him, but it wasn't his fault he couldn't. And Kubo doesn't want to see his father hurt - but Beetle is tough, hurt can be healed, and hurt is such a survivable thing to endure when he's seen his father dead. When he's cried a night into morning beside his dead body.
But talk of responsibility reaches the child who took on adult responsibility at twelve, hasn't considered himself a child since.
He retrieves his paper with a few notes, slides his shamisen to his back and sets his mouth in a thin, determined line to answer -
- then -
"No, Fa - Beetle -" Kubo's seriousness dissolves. He's distracted now, slightly embarrassed. "YOU'RE my father, YOU'RE Ha-"
He waves his hand. "You know what, I'll explain later."
Just this moment, this is a little more urgent.
"You're right," Kubo says, retrieving his omnicom. This will de-escalate the violence. This will pacify the judge.
"This is Paperboy for Freelancer," he says into his omnicom, calling on the most directly authoritative person he can think of among the displaced Legionnaire. "I am reporting myself for inciting violence."
no subject
But he doesn't look upset anymore. Because as close as Rico is to hitting those mental targets, Kubo's life has been too strange for even a Mega City 1 class to predict.
Father wanted to be there to raise him, but it wasn't his fault he couldn't. And Kubo doesn't want to see his father hurt - but Beetle is tough, hurt can be healed, and hurt is such a survivable thing to endure when he's seen his father dead. When he's cried a night into morning beside his dead body.
But talk of responsibility reaches the child who took on adult responsibility at twelve, hasn't considered himself a child since.
He retrieves his paper with a few notes, slides his shamisen to his back and sets his mouth in a thin, determined line to answer -
- then -
"No, Fa - Beetle -" Kubo's seriousness dissolves. He's distracted now, slightly embarrassed. "YOU'RE my father, YOU'RE Ha-"
He waves his hand. "You know what, I'll explain later."
Just this moment, this is a little more urgent.
"You're right," Kubo says, retrieving his omnicom. This will de-escalate the violence. This will pacify the judge.
"This is Paperboy for Freelancer," he says into his omnicom, calling on the most directly authoritative person he can think of among the displaced Legionnaire. "I am reporting myself for inciting violence."