You know, I really should be...y'know, angry. I don't lose fights. I don't lose anything. I'm the guy that never lost so much as a goddamned fidchell match in thirty years. So I should be angry I lost that tournament.
[Goldenrod City. 11:30 PM. Saturday night
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[Even if Cecil tries to ignore that most of the time.]
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[Not at the moment, though.]
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Not a whole lot of evilslayin' that needs doing around here, though.
...Shit, I'm drunk aren't I?
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It's because he wasn't the strongest, so no matter what he did, he still couldn't succeed!
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Screw you too.
[DO NOT ANTAGONIZE A DRUNK IRISHMAN]
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Sorry, but not interested, and I don't swing that way.
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[What happened to preferring women, Lancer?]
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We start to see that there's very little with real meaning we can do here. It's a dream-world- the rules it plays by won't change no matter how hard you try. I just came from another kind of like it, so I'd know.
Worst of all, this place gives us new friends- real friends- friends we know we won't get to see again after we go home. [Ritz is just going quiet and hugging her Espeon close. The fact that this upsets her this much is not something she exactly wants to advertise to Kuja.]
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It's funny how they never say what happens to the heroes after the story ends. [He really shouldn't understand this so well.]
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Listen up. I'll tell y' what happens. Heroes die. All of 'em, whether they want to or not.
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At least they'll be remember that their best. Death is inevitable whether they die heroically or in a ditch with a bottle clutched in their hands.
Actually I got a good story for you, mister do you want to hear it?
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Don't need t' tell me twice. Death's a pain in the neck. And everything else, for that matter.
Sure, kid. I'm listenin'.
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I think you've had enough to drink tonight, Lancer.
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[Consider this carefully, Shirou.]
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