[ are you real? really? ichiro feels the usual surge of samatoki related fury on his end. what a fucking stupid question-- ] Yes, what the fuck else do you think?!
[ he's not sure what's going on either. ichiro's getting tired of ending up in these situations with samatoki on the other side of them, actually, and he's about to try and hang up, but it's not like he gets much traction. ichiro yanks his wrist forward, and the ghostly, dark hands are visible even in the small screen, now, as he pulls his arm across his body trying to struggle free of them.
there's no timer or anything, but the longer the question is displayed, the more it becomes obvious that ichiro wasn't a willing participant in this game either. another hand appears and grabs at his headphones--it jerks his head backwards, and he growls-- ] Was this you?!
[ why... why would this be samatoki's fault... now who's asking stupid questions... ]
no subject
[ he's not sure what's going on either. ichiro's getting tired of ending up in these situations with samatoki on the other side of them, actually, and he's about to try and hang up, but it's not like he gets much traction. ichiro yanks his wrist forward, and the ghostly, dark hands are visible even in the small screen, now, as he pulls his arm across his body trying to struggle free of them.
there's no timer or anything, but the longer the question is displayed, the more it becomes obvious that ichiro wasn't a willing participant in this game either. another hand appears and grabs at his headphones--it jerks his head backwards, and he growls-- ] Was this you?!
[ why... why would this be samatoki's fault... now who's asking stupid questions... ]