He didn't of course, instead he added the only thing he could voice, but there is the nagging feeling that he should have.
Particularly when he realizes that Dio isn't looking at them anymore, when he speaks. When he finishes speaking, and leaves the Simulacrum to respond instead. Respond to break the damning silence that was brought upon them not by the words of the demon but instead the pooka, he finds himself thinking quietly.
The more Dio speaks, the more he can't help but think that instinct to stop Speedwagon wasn't just right.
It was probably vital.
"MRREEEEEEEWWWW-" Queen hisses and screeches and darts for the safety of Speedwagon's burrow, and that's the only warning there is as the words meet the air.
The more Dio speaks the more the simulacrum's voice breaks. Like screaming into a telephone, like the audio files he's occasionally heard from Speedwagon's laptop device, the boy's voice grows farther and farther from something resembling human to some horrid, miserable fascimile of it. It feels as if it stems from rage to start- but something is missing, Jonathan realizes quite coldly. It's something he's more than used to, more than familiar with in his memory and it's missing, and he can't quite put a finger to what has replaced it.
His words are nothing but smears of static, but somehow he can make them out and ultimately they freeze him to the spot.
"Dio-"
The boy is gone before his name even leaves Jonathan's lips.
They are left there, staring at the empty staircase, bits of melted snow still on the floor from where they slicked off from the boy's excessive protection from the liquid death that he'd trudged through. Jonathan can't turn his eyes away from it in the end.
Instead....
Somehow it hurts.
"...Do you remember, Speedwagon, that night when we first cornered Dio together? That night at the manor, before he placed the mask upon his face?" Jonathan doesn't wait for his friend to answer. Instead he goes on, his voice sad, but clear, ringing through the emptiness of the apartment. "...That night when we faced him, you warned me of his facade- announcing that you could even tell from a sniff, the bad from the good. I can remember back then, wishing that I had been able to tell such a thing myself- wondering perhaps, what could have changed otherwise.
"But..." But now. "...But something you said as well...after you declared his villainy before us all, you asked what I had undoubtedly been thinking myself. 'Is he a victim of circumstance?' And without pause you had continued- 'Not on your life; he's been evil since he drew his first breath'."
Silence.
Yet still it is on Jonathan to break it. "...I cannot help but wonder... ...Thinking upon the one I knew in my youth, and the small differences that exist between him and the boy who just left our home now..." The demon swallows, and only now turns back. "...I can't help but think that you might be wrong this time, Speedwagon."
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He didn't of course, instead he added the only thing he could voice, but there is the nagging feeling that he should have.
Particularly when he realizes that Dio isn't looking at them anymore, when he speaks. When he finishes speaking, and leaves the Simulacrum to respond instead. Respond to break the damning silence that was brought upon them not by the words of the demon but instead the pooka, he finds himself thinking quietly.
The more Dio speaks, the more he can't help but think that instinct to stop Speedwagon wasn't just right.
It was probably vital.
"MRREEEEEEEWWWW-" Queen hisses and screeches and darts for the safety of Speedwagon's burrow, and that's the only warning there is as the words meet the air.
The more Dio speaks the more the simulacrum's voice breaks. Like screaming into a telephone, like the audio files he's occasionally heard from Speedwagon's laptop device, the boy's voice grows farther and farther from something resembling human to some horrid, miserable fascimile of it. It feels as if it stems from rage to start- but something is missing, Jonathan realizes quite coldly. It's something he's more than used to, more than familiar with in his memory and it's missing, and he can't quite put a finger to what has replaced it.
His words are nothing but smears of static, but somehow he can make them out and ultimately they freeze him to the spot.
"Dio-"
The boy is gone before his name even leaves Jonathan's lips.
They are left there, staring at the empty staircase, bits of melted snow still on the floor from where they slicked off from the boy's excessive protection from the liquid death that he'd trudged through. Jonathan can't turn his eyes away from it in the end.
Instead....
Somehow it hurts.
"...Do you remember, Speedwagon, that night when we first cornered Dio together? That night at the manor, before he placed the mask upon his face?" Jonathan doesn't wait for his friend to answer. Instead he goes on, his voice sad, but clear, ringing through the emptiness of the apartment. "...That night when we faced him, you warned me of his facade- announcing that you could even tell from a sniff, the bad from the good. I can remember back then, wishing that I had been able to tell such a thing myself- wondering perhaps, what could have changed otherwise.
"But..." But now. "...But something you said as well...after you declared his villainy before us all, you asked what I had undoubtedly been thinking myself. 'Is he a victim of circumstance?' And without pause you had continued- 'Not on your life; he's been evil since he drew his first breath'."
Silence.
Yet still it is on Jonathan to break it. "...I cannot help but wonder... ...Thinking upon the one I knew in my youth, and the small differences that exist between him and the boy who just left our home now..." The demon swallows, and only now turns back. "...I can't help but think that you might be wrong this time, Speedwagon."