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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[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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[Dry. Curious, but not wholly surprised. There are little gods everywhere, it seems. But there's a sharp edge just underneath, one that only barely qualifies as hidden, one that he's not even actively trying to hide.]
I hope Joker and the others took care of that properly.
[With guns and so forth.]
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[His shoulders bob in a very relaxed shrug.]
Well, mine is a very different reality, seeing how I'd spent the last five years living in Inaba before being assigned to an undercover mission in Tokyo, where I soon got dragged into reluctantly leading the Phantom Thieves alongside my already busy schedule.
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An undercover mission... I take it Shido is not your employer.
[Just say it, he can hear the familiar words in his ears. I hate your guessing games.
So he does.]
That explains why you're so happy.
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[That is to say, he's not here to judge what was ultimately a rigged game. To be left to languish alone, without support or any care... Truly a shame, in his eyes.]
That's not to say my life has been easy, seeing how I've endured multiple near-cataclysmic events since I was twelve, but I acknowledge it is a rather pronounced difference.
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[He's not so foolish as to believe that any version of him would have an easy life. There's plenty of ways to have a hard time, even if you aren't making things harder for yourself the way he did. He other self seems downright defensive of it.]
You can relax. I don't see a point in criticizing you for becoming the best version of us at eighteen that you could.
[The Goro Akechi in front of him might even understand Trust your partner without it being smacked into him by near-Erasure experiences! A medical miracle, or something.]
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[But they have made great strides, at least. He'd like to think they're at least some close approximation of friends.
Nonetheless, he visibly relaxes. This is going surprisingly smooth, actually.]
But however unlucky you may be, you're certainly the oldest Akechi here by no small margin.
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[He's heard them all. Mostly from Kariya playing up his seniority.
And yet... At that comment, he frowns.]
Perhaps. But for 'oldest living,' I no longer count. So, you are still the winner.
[Congratulations to the Ruinbringers once again, etc, see you next week. That's how it feels right now.]
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[That is... concerning, to say the least, and it's rather telling how much with the way tension grips him from the revelation. There's an undeniable grimace, but...
Hm.]
Well, if we're being technical, my counterpart is from November. I'm from August. Ergo, I am not technically the oldest.
picked this date as four (ie, death) days before the deadline of Shido's palace lmao
The mention of November, however, brings something dark to his features.]
... He's cutting it close. I died on December 15th.
Oh, that is mean >:)
He goes quiet for a few moments, eyes wide. Soon indeed. That is worrisome.]
Because of Shido's cognition, I assume? Okumura-san had mentioned something about that before. I did try to warn him, at least, so he could adapt accordingly.
It's likely less of an issue in my reality, simply because I doubt Shido even knows I exist.
i love symbology!
[It's sharp and short in the way of someone who would rather not give details. If there is one universal rule among Players and Reapers both, it's that none of them like to dwell on their deaths. It's a rare case where someone talks about it at all.]
And while he likely doesn't consider you a threat, if he's anything like the Shido in my reality, he knows of your existence. He's always been one to keep track of his affairs.
[Those last few words are lanced with vicious double meaning.]
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[He winces at the memory, but otherwise remains composed. It's fine. He's fine. No big deal.]
I, of course, knew how to provide just the right flattery to diffuse the situation. At the time, he didn't seem to recognize me as his biological son, which is fine. I have a vastly superior dad as it stands. I will get to Shido's palace in time, but not until I am certain the Thieves are prepared for the dangers within it.
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[It's bitter and sharp and sour - something he would, under normal circumstances, only say to someone who might understand it.]
I imagine there's still someone doing his dirty work for him, if he's already garnered the attention of the Phantom Thieves.
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[It rolls off the tongue with an air of resentment, but otherwise sugary sweet.]
But if I had to guess, if he has any such cognition, it would be one Dr. Takuto Maruki. Then again, I suppose it depends on the exact nature of his palace in other worlds versus my own. For instance, Wakaba Isshiki never died and was instead incapacitated with a seemingly unexplainable amnesia that we only just undid.
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[It's presented more as a point of data than anything else - he can't judge what the man's involvement with Shido might or might not be. Hard to do that when he's never heard the name before.
... And if it was in connection with cognitive research, he would remember that.]
...I find it hard to believe Shido would let her live, even if I wasn't there to plant the metaphorical bullet. There's plenty of ways to die in a hospital, after all.
[He would know. Plenty of players have gone through its doors only to wake up on the other side in the end.]
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[Which should be perhaps a little alarming. For this Akechi, it's even more so, knowing how far he is able to go in other worlds...]
But you see, it isn't an ordinary hospital. Mitsuru Kirijo is not a woman so easily trifled with, and I don't believe he can afford to meddle in the affairs of the Kirijo Group. Not only that, but it is my understanding that her research mysteriously disappeared the very same night she collapsed.
[That bitter smile flattens.]
I suspect that Maruki stole it. Perhaps he's keeping it hidden in order to have leverage with Shido, but that's mere speculation.
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That would do it. He was wary of the Kirijo Group in my world, all the more so when I discovered that Mitsuru didn't exist in Mementos at all.
[At the time, he'd thought she was just too far out of range - it's not as though she spends all her time in Tokyo, much less the center of it. But now... Well, an issue for later.][
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[Ah, but the thought of Mitsuru beckons a soft chuckle. That's a fun little bombshell up his sleeve, isn't it?]
To be honest, she's a dangerous adversary regardless, seeing how she can summon a Persona in reality.
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[There aren't a lot of other options, really!
If this Akechi is looking to unsettle his senior, though, he won't be getting a bite. The older Akechi simply cocks his head, putting a hand up to his chin in thought.]
Interesting. I can't imagine it's a secret weapon she needs often, otherwise it wouldn't be much of a secret. I wonder how it works.
[Does it create a small cognitive space around her? Bring the planes into close enough association that there can be bleedover? He almost hopes she appears, now.]
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...Granted, some may argue that he is still a kid.]
There are special devices that enable it, though some Persona users are simply so powerful they need not use said devices. Or they simply got their power through other means and could always summon in real life. I believe the Persona users of the 1990's were one such case, and since arriving here I've learned that they obtained their power from a being called Philemon.
[So perhaps that's the trick. This Philemon grants them the power more easily... One day, he'll have to do more research.]
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The cognitive abilities I have now can be used to affect the minds of those in the 'real world' in a way that I always suspected was similar to the influence of our cognitive world. Certainly my experience in the Metaverse gave me an edge in using them.
[As both a Player and a Reaper, honestly. Setting up Noise in people's minds for the sake of Missions falls under his purview more often than not, now, rather than just being a mere monitor of the game.]
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[Well, now it's his turn to watch the other with intense fascination, chin in hand as the wheels in his head spin wildly.]
What sort of influence, specifically? Is it akin to a change of heart, or something else entirely?
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some of this is headcanon but I CAN back it up
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