whisper that the past is gone eternally

[paysforall]

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]

Comments

[fogbornphantom]

Oh?

[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?

[paysforall]

Far less dramatic than that - arguably on the far opposite end of the scale.

[There's a pause - and then the younger Akechi will find himself thinking, inexplicably, about a nice cup of tea. What about a nice cup of tea? Whatever his mind would naturally suggest for the phrase suddenly appearing in his thoughts without obvious context.

Considering that he's familiar with cognitive phenomena, he's far more likely to pick up on the fact that the thought doesn't originate from him than the average person would. If he didn't, then the way his older self continues will make it obvious.]

Imprinting is usually little more than a sort of mental prompt or trigger - it can help people who are stuck trying to remember something or come up with an idea, but it's not usually enough to control someone's actions or desires.

There's a few people with an extra trick or two - I can prompt someone into saying what's really on their mind without a filter, like a far lesser version of my old Metaverse abilities - but for the most part, psychic interaction between the Underground and the real world is limited to Imprinting.

[fogbornphantom]

[...What.

His eyes blink wide open, and he reaches for his temple, not in a reflexive response to pain, but because what. Tea? He's just suddenly thinking about making tea?

That feels very abnormal.]

I'd almost be offended if that wasn't so benign. That seems like a power that could easily be exploited with the wrong intentions behind it, but if it's truly that subtle, then I can't say it's harmful.

[paysforall]

There was also a fad for a while for a simplified version of an Oujia board called Reaper Creeper that actually did work, so long as your movements were slow enough that the living didn't think they'd bumped the damn thing.

[Reaper Creeper controls my beloathed.]

That was useful while it was around. But yes, the most most people can do with Imprinting is pushing someone into some irresponsible financial decisions on impulse. It's possible to do a bit more than that with some planning ahead, but it's tedious to attempt without the assistance of someone on the other side who's in on the Game.

[There's a capital letter there if you listen for it.]

[fogbornphantom]

I can imagine it was all rather frustrating coming hot off the heels of the Metaverse, then. Particularly with the unique power Call of Chaos affords...

[The way he mentions Call of Chaos, with a subtle narrowing of the eyes and a slight edge to his words suggests there's something deeper than simply knowing it from his counterpart.

Curious.]

[paysforall]

[The thing about being the new arrival is that the older Akechi has no reason to think that this younger him doesn't have the Call of Chaos. Though he notes the edge... Well.]

I didn't have time to be frustrated, at the beginning. The first few days were... Well, imagine a dangerous Palace on maximum alert and the Shadows are stronger than you and can't be reasoned with. That's about what it was like.

[In other words, he was too busy fighting for his life to register frustration in particular. It was all just a blur of terror and stress, so there's a fairly equal edge to his voice as he talks about it - a memory that hasn't been entirely dulled by time.]

[fogbornphantom]

That's not too unlike the TV world, if I'm being honest. Those Shadows couldn't be negotiated with, and the layouts were randomized, much like Mementos, though I'd have to question if your enemies included masked tables and golden hands.

[Heh. TV world shadows came first for him, too, so them resembling Personas was certainly a surprise, come the Metaverse.]

[paysforall]

Noise usually take the form of animals. They're not unlike Shadows, but frankly, they're cognitively even less.

[Shadows have some degree of substance behind them, some weight on the cognitive plane. Noise are just that.]

They're, effectively, the ground-up feelings and memories of the dead-and-less-than-dead that have yet to disperse. Static and ground pork of the soul. The seafoam that the mermaid turns into at the end of the tale.

If that seafoam was literally a pack of vicious wolves trying to rip your throat out, that is.

[And then Taboo Noise are worse because you can't even hurt them half the time! Everything was bad!]

[fogbornphantom]

So echoes of cognition, essentially? But not literal ghosts- those do exist, and I imagine they're a fair bit different in many regards.

[Sometimes at the shrine, a ghost would appear... And of course, there are the gods and other paranormal entities throughout Japan.

Still, the allusion to The Little Mermaid isn't lost. The words don't leave him stunned or speechless.]

Am I to assume you couldn't wield Loki or Robin Hood?

[paysforall]

You are speaking to one, technically.

[Obviously ghosts exist, or at least, the direct souls of the deceased continuing to exist in some form or another.

The grimace on his face is probably answer enough to that question.]

Although the Underground is similar in many ways to the Metaverse, the two are not the same. No Personas, even now, and my abilities are much more developed than when I was a Player just starting out.

[fogbornphantom]

True, but you seem like a rather unique case.

[Certainly not a conventional spirit wailing in the night, at any rate.]

...So first you mention a Game, now you mention Players. This all sounds rather elaborate.

some of this is headcanon but I CAN back it up

[paysforall]

We're actually not all that uncommon. There's just the existing on a separate plane of reality thing. Though, technically I no longer live in our Shibuya, so perhaps it's unique to that world...

[Thoughtful chin prop, while he organizes his thoughts.]

The Reaper's Game is - in theory - a last chance at life for those who died before their time. It lasts seven days, and in theory, if you win, you get to go back to life. Most Players are between fourteen and twenty-five, though I've seen a handful further to either end.

[The young ones don't tend to survive long.]

But if you lose - and there are many ways to lose - you're Erased. Which, now that I've seen it more and more, I think scares me more than anything in the Metaverse. Erasure isn't simply ceasing to exist, although that's what many Players end up thinking.

It's being removed from the collective unconscious. People who were close to you will still remember you, but people with only casual knowledge of you? That barista who knows your order and has it ready as soon as you walk in the door? The math teacher who only knows you as a mediocre student? As far as people like that are concerned, you never existed.

When you've been Erased, you disappear. That's the bet you're putting on the table, in every version of the Game. Fail, and face Erasure.

[fogbornphantom]

So they're willing to forfeit their afterlives for a chance to live anew... Quite the gamble, and I assume there is no way in which anyone besides the winner can triumph.

[That's so... harrowing, really. Cruel, to say the least. It'd be one thing if they were banished back to the afterlife. That would be fair...

But when are these things ever truly fair?]

[paysforall]

For what it's worth, I haven't seen any evidence of any other kind of literal afterlife.

[Is he ruling it out entirely? No. But would he put money on it existing? Absolutely not.

It's dust to dust, as far as he's concerned. In many ways, he's more comfortable with that - the idea that you only have one life, and it's yours to run or ruin.]

Those who manage to reach the end of the Game without being the 'winners' can also choose to play again, or to join the ranks of the Game's overseers and support staff, the Reapers. The latter is what I chose, in the end.

[fogbornphantom]

The presence of ghosts suggests the possibility, but I suppose we'll never know for certain until our time comes. For my sister's sake, I do hope a heaven exists...

[It would be sad otherwise. The belief that her mother is in heaven has brought her so much comfort...

He sighs, but listens to the information of this Game.]

Still, I can see why you took that path. At least as a Reaper, you continue to exist, and you aren't subject to the whims of this Game, I suspect.

[paysforall]

[I mean, his time very much did time, that's part of the point and the problem.

Still, it's not his place to disparage that hope. He can just... think you're wrong on that count, based on his own experiences. It's not like a 'heaven' like that has a place for him, anyway.]

Theoretically, anyway. In practical terms, Shibuya got the equivalent of a hostile corporate takeover from the Shinjuku Reapers shortly after I joined up, and they've been in control of our Game for the last three years.

[That classic Goro Akechi viciousness is on full display as he talks about it. Whatever Shinjuku did to the Game clearly made him furious.]

We only finally ousted them a few days ago.

[fogbornphantom]

I'd grumble about corporations, but considering that I work under Mitsuru Kirijo, that might be a bit hypocritical.

[Still, he'll scowl all the same. The idea of a sudden and abrupt outsider takeover is unwelcome regardless.]

It is good to hear you triumphed, at least.

[paysforall]

I have no doubt that Kirijo-san follows only the most scrupulous of business practices. And her 'you've been let go' package is probably better.

[By virtue of not being Erasure.]

It's a little aggravating to be yanked out in the middle of the restructuring, if I'm honest.

[fogbornphantom]

I understand that well. My team had literally just finished changing Wakaba Isshiki's heart. I was in the middle of a phone call with my dad—not Shido, just so we're clear— and then I ended up in the Velvet Room.

[Rather unfortunate. He can only hope time is halted, or Dojima would surely worry.]

[paysforall]

[There's a small wince, the kind that the younger Akechi might recognize, from his encounters with his other selves, as the one pre-fabricated for TV cameras.]

I wasn't that in the middle of things, thank goodness. I'd never be able to pick up the conversation as though it hadn't left off, and my partner would definitely notice.

[fogbornphantom]

Work partner, I presume?

[He doesn't want to assume romantic partner. That's quite a loaded assumption, after all, but oh. He recognizes that wince.]

[paysforall]

Not quite, but that's the closest analogy. Same class of partner, but a step higher.

[Straight into codependency territory in some cases. Fortunately both he and Asch are too independent to become that dysfunctional.]

The psychic ability he has is a supernaturally heightened intuition, but even without it he knows me well enough to catch when there's something on my mind. He'd notice for certain.

[fogbornphantom]

But not necessarily romantic, I assume? Though I can certainly relate. Ren is very attuned to my way of thinking, sometimes frustratingly so.

[It's said with a hint of amusement. The lightest twitch of a smile.]

But if there's one thing I've learned with partners, romantic or otherwise, is that they're equal parts adept at keeping us on our toes as they are providing a sense of balance and stability.

[paysforall]

Definitely not. Though I wouldn't object, we've never turned in that direction, and neither have the other pair among our coworkers - though they're getting over a rough patch at the moment, anyway.

[Which is a polite way of saying they've been a mess. Just another reason to hate Shinjuku, really.]

... Our Game runs with a few guiding principles, and one of the biggest is Trust your partner. It was the harder one for me to learn.

[It's probably not hard to put together why... Nor to guess how that influence made this older Akechi, in particular, more even-keeled and less paranoid overall. Once someone else gets their foot in the door, it becomes much harder to justify keeping it locked tight.]

[fogbornphantom]

Don't I know it? It was one thing to trust Kanji after he quite literally saved me from my horrible circumstances. Dojima-san and Nanako-chan were easy enough to adjust to, once I realized they truly cared for me, and their home wouldn't be like all the other godforsaken foster "homes" I'd suffered through.

[And still, he blows a tremendous sigh.]

But with anyone outside that circle, I put up walls. I kept them at arm's length. I was terrified of getting too close to others, fearing they would hurt, betray, or abandon me.