personavelvetroomdr | my montage of lost things, my shining trinkets of grief

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my montage of lost things, my shining trinkets of grief

((cw: hallucinations, panic, the general poor mental state of someone with a Palace))

Ren is not exactly at his most presentable. Like, yeah, he's clean and dressed, but that's about all you can say for him. His hair is a snarl of tangles, his skin is unhealthily pale, he holds himself rigidly, and the shadows under his eyes are so dark that it looks like they might never leave. And he knows he looks bad, but by now he's beyond caring. With everything that's happening to him, someone judging his hair is the least of his fucking concerns.

He doesn't usually like to go out, these days. A lot can happen when he's out of his apartment. Too many things he can't control, and too many places that remind him of home, which lately is to be avoided at all costs. But his apartment isn't much better. There's nowhere he can look where he hasn't seen Shido, or Akechi, or Shido and Akechi, or his parents or his orphanage directors or fuck knows who else. There's nowhere he can sit where he hasn't heard their voices. And when he's not hallucinating, he's alone with his thoughts, which is worse.

All that is to say, there was a whole thing earlier where he felt like he couldn't breathe, and it sucked, but it's over now! He's fine. Still, it made him want to get out of his apartment. So here he is, out in Shibuya. And outside has turned out to be as vertiginous and full of danger as he was afraid of, but, well. At least it's different.

1. all the things that i ran from i now bring as close to me as i can

He stands with his back to the wall of a storefront and searches the constant stream of passing cognitions. His expression is fraught. He knows he hasn't really been seeing people from his past, he's not stupid, but the idea of being blindsided by a hallucinatory Shido or orphanage director amidst the crowd is terrifying enough to keep him rooted in place, watching endlessly.

2. gripping hotel sheets with gritted teeth

He's finally escaped the crowds. Curled up on the grimy concrete in a Shibuya alleyway, his knees to his chest and his back once again pressed to the wall, he tries to calm down. Akechi made him breathe, that time when he freaked out in his Palace. He tries to match the rhythm he remembers, but it just makes him think about the Palace, so he abandons that plan almost at once and goes back to waiting out the terror. He'll be fine if he just grits his teeth and endures it. That... usually works, anyway.

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It's... pitiful, watching Ren struggle like this. Uncomfortable. Even if Falcon knows he's not the same Ren from his world, and that he has a Palace, but still.

He glances behind himself, trying to see if there's anything.

Nothing.

"I'll believe you. For now," he says, shifting his weight. He's sure Ren's just bluffing, but he's not going to fight him on it either. Not when he's already looking so... fragile.

He feels like just standing here won't do any good either, as Ren is clearly not improving, but he's also not exactly eager to force the matter. "Frog hasn't said anything about you. Only that you consented to us guarding your Palace to keep out interlopers. Is there something we should know?"

He understands Frog's concerns, he really does, but what if this makes the Palace more unstable?

Ugh- later. First, the task at hand.

"Nevermind. You look like shit. I'm going to call Frog, I'm sure he'll be able to help."

Edited (robot typo) 2024-06-03 22:06 (UTC)

"No, don't—"

He nearly reaches out and grabs Falcon, only thinking better of it at the last second. "Let him have a break. He doesn't need..."

He doesn't need any more of his fucking life to revolve around Ren's Palace. Because he would let it happen, if he thought he had to.

Despite himself, Falcon flinches back when Ren's hand comes out, a low hiss leaving his voicebox, even if he seems to think better of it at the last moment. A moment of panic, and Futaba's file rears its ugly head, forcing itself to his attention.

Shit.

He wills himself to calm down- what would Ren do? There's nothing he can do, he reassures himself. Ren needs help, but-

"N-no?" he asks, voicebox glitching out a little as he forces his own panic back down, Futaba's file to the back of his mind. God, he's fucking pathetic. "He'd be happy to help, but- fine. Okay." He's not going to fucking- make things worse by forcing a call with Frog if Ren doesn't want it. He forces himself back into a more casual stance. Open. Not hostile (hopefully).

"What do you want then?"

"I don't want anything," Ren says before he can stop himself. "You're all—making it your business. I just want to be left alone. He comes over every day like he's waiting for me to give you permission to pick through my mind for little trinkets—"

His face starts to crumple. He swallows and pulls himself back under something that resembles control, kind of. "Sorry."

Falcon doesn't say anything, staring Ren down. He can't exactly fault Ren for thinking like that. He... understands. No, really.

It just pisses him off that Ren has the gal to say that to his face, after what he helped do to him.

"What a vexing position. Being able to choose if you want someone picking through your brain or not, instead of being forced," he says before he can stop himself, sharp and angry. He doesn't exactly feel guilty for it, but he does quickly realize that was probably the wrong thing to say.

He shakes his head along with the anger (or tries, at least). "Whatever. I can't fault you for feeling that way. Regardless, this isn't the time or the place." The crowd is thick, and probably not helping. "We should find somewhere calmer, at the very least. You look like actual shit, and if I'm looking after your Palace, it'd be incredibly stupid to let you waste away here."

Ren stares blankly at Falcon for a long moment. Voices shout insults in his ears, his parents and his orphanage directors but not Shido, so it could be worse. They die back down to whispers, eventually, leaving him clueless about what Falcon said after the first part. He tries for a second to piece it together, or guess, but he has no idea.

"What?"

Oh, for fuck's-

"I said, he repeats, louder this time, clearly annoyed despite his attempts at staying calm, "we're getting out of here. It's clearly too damn noisy, if you can't even understand what I'm saying."

He pauses, eyeing Ren up and down critically. He really does look awful; blank stare, empty eyes, slight tremble, which isn't to say anything of what his bioscanners pick up on.

"Can you even move?"

"Yeah, I can move." It comes out sullen instead of snappish. He doesn't bother correcting Falcon about his hearing, or arguing that he's not going anywhere. Falcon's made up his mind, and Ren doesn't have the energy to fight back. Not when he wants to leave, too.

"Where are we going?"

Falcon doesn't much pay attention to Ren's tone; he's already looking around, internal map pulled up. He doesn't actually know where they're going, but he's not going to act like it. He'd take Ren back to his home if he knew where it was, but alas.

"You'll see," is all he says. "Come on."

There's a little hole-in-the-wall café nearby... that should probably do, right? If only so Ren can take a moment to collect himself. He starts leading the way, glancing back to make sure Ren is following. He's not going to go through all this effort just for Ren to stay behind and panic himself into a pulp.

You'll see, he mouths at the back of Falcon's head, with exhausted incredulity. If he was in his right mind, he'd never go anywhere with anyone who said that, and he knows it. But now... what's the worst that can happen? He dies? It wouldn't even stick. And he does want to get out of the street, badly.

He follows, keeping to the line of storefronts, trying to watch Falcon. But his eyes often stray to the cognitions. Just to be sure there are no hallucinations in their midst. Just to be sure. Just to be sure.

Not too long after they depart, Falcon ducks into an alley, keeping an eye out to make sure Drake's following. He notices Drake keeps glancing at the cognitions, though he's unsure what he's hoping to see there. There's only the people in this place and- well, the cognitions themselves. There's something... off about it.

Hm.

"Hey. Don't dawdle," he says, before continuing on. Soon, they find themselves in front of the cafe Falcon's internal map told him about. It's no Leblanc, he can see that even from the outside, but since it otherwise seems mostly empty, it'll do. He pushes open the door, and nods at Drake to follow inside.

If nothing else, the other can calm down here, and then, Falcon can be on his merry way.

It looks mediocre, is what it looks like. A stop for exhausted salarymen on their way to work, near-deserted now that people have the time to find good coffee. But that means it's not crowded, so Ren will take it. He follows Falcon in and looks around at all the occupants, making sure they're all just normal cognitions. He's still careful to keep his back to the wall.

Falcon manages to find a table in a corner, somewhat more hidden, but still with a view over most of the café. Great for not getting noticed, while still seeing anyone who enters or exits. This one isn't even for Ren's sake; it comes naturally for him.

He gestures at Ren to sit down, and follows suit; taking the chair on the opposite side on the opposite edge, so he's not stuck making awkward eye contact the entire time.

... It is still incredibly awkward and tense. He really wishes he hadn't run into Ren, actually, but here he is.

"Did you want something?" He nods at the drink menu sitting on the table, keeping his face carefully neutral, looking as much like the robot he actually is.

Ren shakes his head no. His entire body buzzes with fear and wariness, which is not exactly a state of mind that makes him feel hungry. But then he hesitates.

"Uh. Can I..."

...Actually, asking Falcon for a favor is probably a bad idea. "Never mind."

"What?" Falcon asks. He keeps himself as neutral and non-hostile as possible, swallowing down any annoyance. "No, do ask."

The sooner they get this over with, the better.

Ren doesn't look particularly reassured, but he weighs his options and decides it's better to at least ask. Worst case, Falcon blows his head off with his finger guns and he respawns in the Velvet Room like a video game character—and for all he knows, maybe Falcon will say yes.

"I know I'm not in a position to ask for favors," he says carefully. "But you're working with Frog on the same... project." Project Deal With Ren's Palace, unfortunately. "And I'm worried about how hard he's been going. I wanted to ask if you could maybe look out for him? I can owe you for it."

For a moment, Falcon stares at Ren- because really now. Really.

"You're right. You're not," he doesn't quite snap. He's trying to be nice here! ... Somewhat.

But, also, it sounds like an earnest request. It's not like Falcon particularly likes or dislikes Frog (even if he can come off a little... high and mighty, sometimes). So what the hell.

"But I suppose that's not an unreasonable favor," Falcon says, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. "Fine. I'll check up on him."

As for Ren owing him... he'll think of something.

"I'll ask for a favor in return at another time." Since this clearly isn't the moment, and- well. Asking Ren for favors when he's in this bad of a state feels... wrong. Manipulative.

So yeah. Later.

He lets out a slow breath. "Okay. Thanks. Hit me up whenever."

He's kind of surprised that it worked, but as long as someone's looking out for Akechi, he's not going to complain. He would do it himself, if Akechi would just let him.

He hasn't at any point apologized to Falcon, nor does he intend to. But he can't blame Falcon for how he feels, either.

"Yeah. Sure."

He doesn't say 'no problem', because that'd be a lie. He also fully intends to collect on the debt as soon as Ren's Palace has been cleared.

What a pain in the ass this whole debacle has turned out to be. He almost regrets getting involved at all. Still, even assholes like Ren don't deserve to have their heads forcefully messed with.

He better be fucking grateful when all this is said and done.

Ren sighs, slumping back in his chair. It is easier, being somewhere with fewer people. Less scary. He can process the situation a little better, and how fucking... bizarre it is.

"I know what Frog said," he says after a moment. His gaze is still distant, not quite there, but it looks like he's focusing better than he was in the street. "But why are you helping me? If I were you, I'd leave me to rot."

That's the question of the hour, isn't it? It's true, he doesn't particularly like Drake. Hell, if Drake went and disappeared from this place and Falcon never had to see him again, he certainly wouldn't mind in the slightest.

However.

"If you know what Frog said, why even ask?" he says shortly, prickly. "Having experienced it myself, as you well know," he hisses with a glare. (He's letting his temper get the better of him, but in this moment, he doesn't particularly care anymore) "I firmly believe nobody deserves to have their minds messed with, and unfortunately, that includes yourself. I won't compromise my own beliefs just because you're a piece of shit."

Drake's not even the worst piece of shit he's met, but then, Shido and his cronies are a high bar to clear

"Frog could've softened it. To avoid upsetting me or something."

He considers Falcon across the table, not particularly offended. He wouldn't normally be hurt, either, not by those words from Falcon's mouth, but right now, I won't compromise my own beliefs just because you're a piece of shit sits under his skin like a splinter.

"You two have a lot in common," he says quietly. "Not so much with talking gently, but the moral stuff. Don't tell me that's stupid. Not all of you are like that."

Not that his Akechi could say I firmly believe nobody deserves to have their minds messed with without getting laughed off the stage. It's more a general devotion to their beliefs that they share, in Ren's eyes. A stubbornness.

"Hmph. Does he do that a lot? Can't imagine that's very enjoyable."

Falcon certainly wouldn't like it if someone minced their words to avoid upsetting him. Even in his worst moments, he'd rather hear the truth, and the full truth only.

Still, Falcon stares at Drake as he muses about his and Frog's similarities.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he looks away, arms crossed. "I simply stick to my own justice. That's all."

Does that make him similar to Frog? He doesn't really know. He doesn't know the guy well enough to tell, and he's not sure Drake's in the proper state of mind to make that judgement.

"And you don't think you share that with the leader of the Phantom Thieves?"

Ren's obviously not in a great state of mind, yeah, but he's not so out of it that he can't draw that comparison.

Falcon's eyes narrow.

"Do not," he hisses, "compare me to people who brainwash others."

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