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[img]https://media.discordapp.net/attachments/301690986252206080/379050942726930432/Shaun.gif[/img]

~ [i]Scarred[/i] ~[/center]

Seconds ticked by. Probably. It could have been minutes, for all Shaun could tell. But what he did know was that he had tuned himself out. He couldn't even begin to believe what he was hearing. Him? The... killer..? No... no, no, that was wrong... she was wrong...

That was all he could think. Tears pricked at his eyes, looking at Bliss and her pained expression. What was this girl trying to do? Turn everyone against him? Who was she trying to protect by doing that? It just didn't make sense. Everyone would [i]die[/i] if she didn't start looking at the facts properly. Because if there was one thing he knew in this trial... if there was just one thing he knew.

It was that he didn't do it.

He took a nervous, shaky breath, returning to the conversation as best as he could in time to hear Krista defending him. To that, he smiled. She really was nice... someone he could rely on, someone who believed in him. With Jezebel's unbridled assault he almost expected everyone to gang up on him instead. To be pleasantly surprised within the Killing Game was truly special indeed.

[colour=SlateBlue]"Y-you're... wrong, Jezebel."[/colour] he stated, starting off quietly in anxiousness but growing louder to support his point; no way was he going to let someone slander his name into submission, [colour=SlateBlue]"If I u-used a voice changer to tr-trick Alice Parker, w-we would have f-found it if I disposed of it I-in my room, or M-Marianne's. I-if you're right..."[/colour] he started turning out his trouser pockets, one by one, [colour=SlateBlue]"Th-then I should have one o-on me, right?"[/colour]

With each pocket he emptied, nothing came out. Shaun made a slow, full 360 degree turn to show every pocket, inside out, with nothing present. Once again facing the Infinites, he took a shallow breath, clearly terrified of his next move. But he couldn't turn back now; he had to prove his innocence.

And so he gripped his scarf, and pulled in loose from around his neck, and let it rest on the podium in front of him, a small red puncture wound on the right of his neck becoming visible as he did so. Then he took the bottom of his jumper, and pulled it up over his head, revealing a dull blue shirt underneath. He screwed it up in a ball, and displayed it clearly for everyone to see that it was empty.

As he did, something else became evident.
[colour=SlateBlue]"I-I don't have a voice ch-changer... or a wallet."[/colour] his left arm was covered, from wrist to shoulder, in cut and burn scars of varying lengths, that he tried his best to cover up but failed to, [colour=SlateBlue]"S-so... I'm not the killer..!"[/colour] he exclaimed, as loudly as he could, before closing his eyes tightly to recover his nerves, visibly shaking from the stress.