Goro Akechi [TWEWY AU] (
paysforall) wrote in
personavelvetroomdr2023-09-14 06:06 pm
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Entry tags:
whisper that the past is gone eternally
It's the Shibuya Crossing. The big, famous one, with all the crowds and the traffic and the 109 building overlooking it all.
And that's the thing.
The 109 building.
Paying no mind to the sea of empty cognitions around him, a Goro Akechi stands in the center of the crosswalk, staring up at the number-faced building with a frown. If you were looking for any Goro Akechi in particular, however, this one almost transparently isn't him. Twenty-one years of age and dressed like the masculine line of a Victorian goth brand was thrown over his head like a bucket of cold water, this Akechi stares at one of the most familiar landmarks of Tokyo like it's a river in a desert and he hasn't quite decided if he wants to take a drink.
He's back.
(Or, at the very least, he's no longer where he was. Her Shibuya was a 109 as well. And there was that strange room...)
"If the Shibuya Game has gone down the shitter again," he says, seemingly addressing nobody, or possibly the phone he's pulled from his pocket to glare at, "I am going to go after the Composer myself."
He lifts his phone. (It's the same phone he's always had. The only thing that hasn't changed, for anyone with a keen enough eye for detail. There's a new vinyl sticker on the back, a stylized skull in red at an angle, but it's the same phone as ever.) Snaps a picture. No change in the photo. Closes that, opens a different app, snaps again. His frown intensifies.
(It is, by now, a good thing that the cognitions are just filler that will continue to idle in whatever routine they're running, because otherwise he would surely have been hit by a car, right? But the crowd continues to wander around him, heedlessly.)
Finally, he lowers his phone, sends the photo to someone on his contacts, and apparently gives up, shoving it back into his pocket. The cognitions resume the flow of normal traffic, clearing the crossing so that cars can pass through, as he goes over to Hachiko to lean up against the side of the statue.
"I didn't miss the not having any idea what's going on," he tells the dog, firmly firmly and with a hint of melancholy. "Oh, if only a real person would show up with the answers right about now. Why, I'd even consider buying them a coffee for the trouble."
Despite nominally being addressed to the bronze canine, the way he lifts the volume of his voice makes it clear that it's addressed to you, onlooker, whoever you are.
[[OOC: I don't actually care what format you use i just always write introspective-y starters in prose. tldr twewy au post-canon post-death akechi]
And that's the thing.
The 109 building.
Paying no mind to the sea of empty cognitions around him, a Goro Akechi stands in the center of the crosswalk, staring up at the number-faced building with a frown. If you were looking for any Goro Akechi in particular, however, this one almost transparently isn't him. Twenty-one years of age and dressed like the masculine line of a Victorian goth brand was thrown over his head like a bucket of cold water, this Akechi stares at one of the most familiar landmarks of Tokyo like it's a river in a desert and he hasn't quite decided if he wants to take a drink.
He's back.
(Or, at the very least, he's no longer where he was. Her Shibuya was a 109 as well. And there was that strange room...)
"If the Shibuya Game has gone down the shitter again," he says, seemingly addressing nobody, or possibly the phone he's pulled from his pocket to glare at, "I am going to go after the Composer myself."
He lifts his phone. (It's the same phone he's always had. The only thing that hasn't changed, for anyone with a keen enough eye for detail. There's a new vinyl sticker on the back, a stylized skull in red at an angle, but it's the same phone as ever.) Snaps a picture. No change in the photo. Closes that, opens a different app, snaps again. His frown intensifies.
(It is, by now, a good thing that the cognitions are just filler that will continue to idle in whatever routine they're running, because otherwise he would surely have been hit by a car, right? But the crowd continues to wander around him, heedlessly.)
Finally, he lowers his phone, sends the photo to someone on his contacts, and apparently gives up, shoving it back into his pocket. The cognitions resume the flow of normal traffic, clearing the crossing so that cars can pass through, as he goes over to Hachiko to lean up against the side of the statue.
"I didn't miss the not having any idea what's going on," he tells the dog, firmly firmly and with a hint of melancholy. "Oh, if only a real person would show up with the answers right about now. Why, I'd even consider buying them a coffee for the trouble."
Despite nominally being addressed to the bronze canine, the way he lifts the volume of his voice makes it clear that it's addressed to you, onlooker, whoever you are.
[[OOC: I don't actually care what format you use i just always write introspective-y starters in prose. tldr twewy au post-canon post-death akechi]
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Mementos is down there, below the train carriage. Mementos, his home, which it turns out likely has a false god lurking at the bottom. A false god who set Akechi up. Just perfect.
So when a version of him that he's not yet seen arrives, Akechi is conveniently lurking nearby. And when this older, overdressed—ah, but who is he to talk about being overdressed, really?—version of him starts to lecture the dog, Akechi is there.
He drops back on his bench.] Make it coffee and lunch and you have a deal. Hello. [He adds that last, crinkling his eyes in his fakest smile.]
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After hearing his own voice, but before entirely turning his attention to his counterpart, the older Akechi whispers a stage aside to Hachiko - ]
I hate that I can't rule out time travel.
[Then he turns to face the other Akechi. There's... Not a smile there, exactly. Certainly not the trademarked Television Person smile. But there's a relaxed sort of air, nonetheless.]
Sounds like a deal. Ramen, curry, or woefully corrupt burger joint?
[He assumes - if there's a 109 building and another version of himself - that the burger place across the street will be an Okumura rather than Sunshine or Justice Burger.
As entertaining as it would be to take himself to the latter, unfortunately.]
Or anywhere you had in mind, if you did.
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Speaking of space villains, though, he doesn't really feel like Big Bang Burger.] Ah, that depends. Some of the places I know are here, but many aren't. There was a decent sushi place opposite the 109 building, definitely a 9/10, but in this reality it's chosen to sell candyfloss in bags.
But perhaps you enjoy candyfloss? [It's almost syrupy; he's testing this weird version of him. Just a little. Just a bit.]
i actually looked at there are no sushi shops in neo RIP GORO
[The obvious bullshit mode responses are getting a flat look, not quite on-angle. It's a "really? you pull this shit to me?" kind of look.]
But it has been some time since I had sushi, if you know of somewhere decent. Unfortunately there's not a shop in my Shibuya that takes digital payments, so it's a rare treat for me, these days.
a sad fate :(
Money at least won't be a concern, a lot like the distances. You are new. Well, I say new. [Old, he means. Old as balls. Which... actually means he got old; his smile loses a bit of its edge.]
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i saw nuffin
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ohohoho
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i'm sorry he wouldn't shut up
shh i love he
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cw some discussion of suicidality
me? alive? surely not
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[Says a very ominous, if familiar voice. It's a younger Akechi, about eighteen, in a Shujin uniform with a black turtleneck and familiar black gloves. He cracks an eerie smirk and then stops, snickering.]
In all seriousness, you've just helped nudge us into eclipsing the number of Akiras, Rens, whatever you call him. Perhaps to you, his name is something outlandishly silly, like "Pizza Pasta," which would make absolutely zero sense, but the multiverse certainly is vast.
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I'm half-tempted to you that my name is Akira, but I sense that wouldn't fly.
[For an Akechi, the amusement is genuine - not shaded with even an modicum of plastic.]
But it is at that. Vaster than anyone can imagine I should think. Catgirls are real.
[... It's hard to tell if he's joking there or telling the truth.]
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[The words roll off his tongue as if it's no big deal. Perhaps this new Akechi won't be as fazed as some others.
This is a good way to test the waters, if anything.]
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Sounds a bit higher stakes than the Games I'm used to. [There's a capital.] Those usually just end up being fought for the fate of a city or two, at most.
[Beat.]
What happens if you cut the mascot open before the human inside is done growing?
[If we're playing this game, he's in it to win.]
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[After all, the false god's plan did concern the entire world, not just Tokyo, but-
Ah.
...Heh. That actually earns a little laugh.]
As for Teddie, I can only assume there would be a malformed fetus inside, or something equally horrifying. Perhaps even more horrifying than the fact that his human form was annoyingly attractive.
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picked this date as four (ie, death) days before the deadline of Shido's palace lmao
Oh, that is mean >:)
i love symbology!
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some of this is headcanon but I CAN back it up
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No, actually, the real question is, if Goro Akechi looks that good in old-fashioned Western clothes, why the hell isn't he in them all the time? Ren will buy them for Akechi himself when he gets home, if that's what it takes.
He smiles when he's addressed. ] I'd rather just exchange answers with each other, but I'm not picky. We can do coffee if you want.
[ At first glance, he's a somewhat shabby-looking Ren (or Akira?) with big black boots, stud earrings, no glasses, and a friendly grin where other Akiras and Rens might be much less expressive. At least his hands are shoved in his pockets in much the same way that Akechi might be familiar with. ]
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As it is, at the familiar voice, he's - ruffled, just a bit, and it takes longer to hide than this Joker might be used to. Even when the unsettled face is hidden, the smile is somehow more genuine.]
If you've been here longer than I, you almost certainly have more answers than I do. A coffee evens it out, don't you think?
[After all, he can hardly imagine that this is the Joker he knows - the earrings make that clear more than the boots or lack of glasses. He's known the glasses were fake a long time. The earrings he'd remember.
Joker was always careful to not stick out too much. In the group of Shujin students that comprised most of the Phantom Thieves, he was one of the only ones who consistently wore the uniform properly. Even if it's been three years and so many other details have faded, Akechi would remember earrings.]
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Aside from a brief, startled blink, none of that shows on his face. His grin slants sideways, mischievous. ]
I don't know. My first question is, how do I get my own Akechi into those clothes? Tell me that and I'll tell you whatever you want over any coffee in Tokyo or Tatsumi Port Island. Or Inaba, I guess. But their coffee kind of sucks.
[ He won't actually tell Akechi anything he wants, but he'll tell him some stuff. He'll tell him more if Akechi answers his questions in return, most of which aren't as frivolous as he's pretending they are.
He really does like the clothes, though. ]
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Three years and at least two hells of an experience. Maybe more.]
Peer pressure from my coworkers. Though I'm sorry to say that you'll be unlikely to get any other version of me to wear anything that doesn't suit his image unless you can first convince him that his image isn't something he needs anymore.
[The Detective Prince isn't something he's needed in a long time, and it's allowed him to flourish - but at the time, he needed it desperately. His survival depended on it.]
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[ It'd be tough, but if Ren presented it as a way to give Akechi more of a presence... He doesn't really need more of a presence, but that's not the point. Ren also doesn't have time to embark on an extended campaign to wheedle Akechi into a new wardrobe, and that is more relevant. It's funny to think about, though.
He tilts his head. ] Are you an exception? With the way you said that. Or do the clothes help your image?
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1/2 and also i'm sorry
2/2
DANG
casually walking through town inflicting suffering
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handwaving that he found out about the akira/ren universe thing at some point WHATEVER
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cw sexual slavery mention, vague suicidality
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cw: all of Akechi's bullshit
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...
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...
...
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[ A small, five-year-old version of Kurusu Akira (or Amamiya Ren, if you prefer), is currently approaching Akechi. His wide eyes stare forward unblinkingly and his face is blank and expressionless so he's a bit creepy looking, but he's clutching a dinosaur-themed notebook in his hands and has an oversized Featherman sweatshirt on -- he seems harmless enough! ]
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"Well, hello there." It's... mostly warm and cheerful. He doesn't think children are supposed to be unsupervised at this age, but then, it's demonstrable that the cars on these streets won't hit anyone, and there's no one to take advantage of him, so perhaps this is the safest place of all worlds for a child after all.
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"Hi! My name is Kurusu Akira. I'm five years old. I have selective mutism, which means I can't talk sometimes. I know some sign language. Thank you for your understanding."
Then, he flips to another page.
"I can tell you about this place, if you'd like. I don't know too much, though..."
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"Well, you don't need to worry. I once knew a girl who didn't have a voice at all, who just used her phone to communicate, and we managed to get along just fine."
Until she tried to Erase him, that is, but he's sure not telling a five year old version of Akira that. No way in hell. He keeps a smile on for the kid, even if there's suddenly something harsh biting the inside of his throat at the reminder.
"My name is Akechi Goro, but you probably already knew that if you've spent any length of time here, since I've met another version of myself already. I'm twenty-one years old."
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She's not sure Noir noticed it (perhaps she hasn't had as much reason to get to know her own mind well), but she sure as hell did, and she doesn't appreciate strangers dropping things into her head like that. Even if that stranger is a Goro. So: Time to find out what the hell that was all about.
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In this case, she'll find him at the park, sitting on a bench with a to-go coffee and a mildly sad Overpriced Deli Sandwich he's seemingly intentionally neglecting on the bench next to him. (There's the wrapper of a second one in the nearby trash can. It's the only trash in there.)
As she approaches, he looks up, and gives a jaunty wave that isn't really reflected in the pensive look on his face.
"Okumura-san. I hope you can forgive my rudeness earlier - Imprinting seemed the fastest way to indicate a lack of personal grudge without getting drawn into a conversation I was unprepared for."
Although his tone isn't completely unfamiliar, it's definitely kept at a distance. No luck on your dice roll this time either, Haru, but you probably already knew that.
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"I'd appreciate it if you didn't do that again, outside of a true emergency."
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And too tense - even as he moves the sandwich out of the way so that she has a proper place to sit down, his eyes don't really leave her.
"Though I confess it was more about your companion - you, at least, are clearly not the Haru from my world."
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