dropkicks him right into the velvet room

[pyrrhicjustice]

[The Velvet Room is now host and occupant to a Goro Akechi who is lying flat on his back. It certainly seems he arrived that way, and he shows no sign of moving yet. His school blazer seems to have been rained on, although in the blue lighting of the Velvet Room it only seems darker than usual.

Maybe once he's been encouraged to move into better lighting, it'll be noticeable that the rain was of a distinctly red nature, but that's for then, and this is now.

Oh, and there's also a blue butterfly flittering nervously at Igor, who seems sad at its presence.

Poke the (not exactly) sleeping Akechi?]

Comments

[pyrrhicjustice]

As long as I don't have to talk to anyone, perfect.

[A moment passes.]

What, talking to myself not being sociable enough for you? Don't forget, you're the one who signed up for this.

[pancakeboy]

[And he just regards this new alternate, who is, to all appearances, talking to himself. Except—he remembers that weird singing sensation.]

Talking to your butterfly? [He turns for the Tokyo door, at nothing too different from his usual pace.]

[pyrrhicjustice]

[He refuses to let this slow him down or make him look as weak as he... actually is. He simply looks like he's taken a beating as he walks stiffly over.]

Lavenza. Apparently. I'd hardly call her 'mine' - we're simply working together for a common goal.

[pancakeboy]

[He's heard that name before. Lavenza-chan, he hears Inaba-him saying. Lavenza, one of the Velvet Room attendants in that world, who was... missing?

Without turning his back on his alternate, he gets the Tokyo door, holding it ajar. Usually, if he wants to be in Kichijoji, it puts him in Kichijoji. And right now, he's betting this other-him very much wants to be in Kichijoji.]

Was she always a butterfly? Seems an ineffective form.

[pyrrhicjustice]

I've known her for less than half an hour, so I only know barely more than you do. And what she tells me.

[There's another of those pauses.]

That would be a 'no.'

[He doesn't expect much from just going through a door, but... there Kichijoji is, just as he remembered it. No bones or blood rain at all. Although in the better lighting, the stains on his blazer are more visible now. It's - strange and disorienting. His allows his expression to flatten, since... it's not as though there's any reason to bother pretending he's fine, even if he doesn't want all of it to be on display.]

[pancakeboy]

[Yeah, he knows bloodstains when he sees them, and there's no way these came from that weird aisle at the convenience store. They'd be hard to mistake even if he hadn't "solved" all those psychotic breakdown cases. His eye rests on them for a long moment.

They've come out by the station, next to the promenade.] Which way?

[pyrrhicjustice]

[He barely looks down at himself to notice, and when this other self of his asks where to go, he takes the lead without even thinking, toward home.

The cognitions they pass set his teeth on edge, and instantly feel off to him. None of them react like people should... in fact, they remind him far more of the way everyone had been for the last several days. It's enough to have him glancing up at the still thankfully blue sky.]

[pancakeboy]

[And as they get closer to Inokashira Park, which is on top of the station at the best of times, Akechi starts to prickle. He'd quite like the good—well, he'd like some kind of favour from this weird alternate of his, but the last thing he wants is a houseguest. Come to that, even the top floor of his building is feeling crowded.

At this point, he barely notices the cognitions, unless they get in his way. Which they try to do, sometimes.]

You know—[not-quite-polite conversation in an undertone]—I shot one of them, last week. To see what they'd do.

[pyrrhicjustice]

[He- actually starts slowing down the closer they get to the park, because it's like what he asked for - fewer people. At least... himself? Is half decent conversation.

There's a quirk of his mouth that's almost a smile at those words, too.]

Hm. And did they do anything? Or any of the others around them? Or did they just bleed out there?

[Like he might as well have been. And no one had noticed.]

[pancakeboy]

[Yeah, he gives those bloodstains on other-him's uniform a bit more of a once-over. Then he goes back to watching that butterfly.]

Nothing at all. [He sounds absolutely brisk about it.] He smiled at me as if I'd tried to shake his hand. So I shot him again, of course, in the face. Still nothing.

[And has he wondered what Ren will look like, when he's dead in that cell?—does he continue to wonder? The answer is yes. But they're coming up on the park itself. Akechi's building is to the right, if you turn here, but he's letting the new alternate lead.]

There wasn't even an entrance wound. Like a Shadow. [He is fishing.]

[pyrrhicjustice]

[None of it seems to bother him - if anything, he rolls his eyes at first. Lavenza stays sat on his shoulder, wings flapping mostly for balance.

Then- he hears in the face, and it isn't as though he simply trips up. It's more that he'd tensed in a way that would usually have been slight, and he'd already been feeling like shit, only keeping pace by not stopping. And then that pace was interrupted.] Fuck.

It's not the entrance wound you have to worry about.

[pancakeboy]

True enough. [Hook baited, line reeled—though, again, that reminds him of Ren, and that godawful fishing pond in Ichigaya.

He doesn't lend a hand for support, but waits to see if other-him can get up this time.]

But then, I'm not expecting much of an exit wound. [Before he changed his mind, that is.] Or I wasn't.

[pyrrhicjustice]

[Thankfully, he knows how to fall. He'd damn well better, by now. So although pushing himself back up is painful, he's able to do it under his own steam. Besides, it was bad enough needing the help from... himself? The first time around.

Talking of-]

Cognitions and Shadows are one thing. They're affected by how much society or the owner of the Shadow is even aware of how gunshot injuries work. Reality is another. You can't simply wish or will away the effects, and if I know myself, I'd say that we aren't the kind to shy away from the consequences of our own actions.

[Back on his feet, properly. He takes a deep breath. This close to the park, and things smell greener, cleaner.]

It stinks, you know.

[pancakeboy]

[Shit. That's... definitely something to hear. He watches other-Akechi for a long moment, then turns away.]

You did it, then. [That is—he was stupid enough to do it. But then, who is he to call anyone stupid? If he hadn't arrived here, he'd be on the same exact path.]

[pyrrhicjustice]

And you haven't. Or haven't yet. I'm starting to question which of us is here for who.

[He gives his other self that moment; he's sure he'd need it. And besides, the excuse saves him the face of admitting he needed the break from walking.]

Not to mention the purpose of this place.

[pancakeboy]

So you did miss the speech. [Unconscious on the floor as he was. Picking up the pace again, Akechi recites it all from memory, with flawless disdain, decent comic timing, and more than a little of Igor's inflection.]

"This place exists between dream and reality, mind and matter. If you have any concerns about the world from which you've come, you can rest assured that you're not truly absent while you stay here. Still, you should use your time wisely, and form bonds with the others you find in a similar situation to yourself, as you never know where they might lead you. So please, feel free to explore."

[Absolutely sickening; his opinion hasn't shifted.]

Try not to splash me if you need to vomit.

[pyrrhicjustice]

So it seems. But that sounds more than familiar enough given I heard something similar before I... arrived. Minus the references to an actual Velvet Room.

[The butterfly sits conspicuously self-satisfied on his shoulder.]

Complete waste of my time.

[He's more angry than disgusted.]

[pancakeboy]

[Yeah, he glances between other-him and the butterfly. The missing Velvet Room attendant.]

It may not be a waste. Play your cards right, and you can learn a fair amount. All of it from other people's timelines, of course—there's one of us walking about who claims to be dead.

Another who told me that, at some point, the Phantom Thieves—[he doesn't mention Ren]—were erased from cognition. But then somehow made their way back. Whether that was with a butterfly's help, they didn't say.

[pyrrhicjustice]

I meant the repetition. As if I didn't hear them the first time.

[He shakes his head.]

I didn't see them myself, although I haven't since the beginning of the month. They're - surprisingly competent without a leader, but hardly a threat. Ran with their tails between their legs like rats off the ship. I wouldn't be surprised if the same happened to them, wherever they were.

I doubt it, by the way. Apparently, the only way to get back... only works if he's still around.

[Bitterness, thy name is Goro Akechi.]

[pancakeboy]

Is that right. [Well, it makes perfect sense, doesn't it? Of course Ren Amamiya, Golden Boy, would have the secrets of existence in his hand, as well as everything else.]

What happened to you? Besides the broad strokes, I mean. You mentioned a plan. [They've left Akechi's turning behind—a relief if nothing else—and are heading around the park, in the direction of more apartment buildings, and some offices.]

[pyrrhicjustice]

The plan's shit, as far as Godzilla thresholds go. You know the concept of "you break it, you buy it," yes?

[He puts his hand up to his head, because thinking about it threatens to give him a headache.]

Well, in this case the thing I broke was [Akira] apparently the world's last defence against a being strong enough to "bring the world to ruin." I told you I'd heard the crap about bonds before - according to Lavenza there, the bond I had managed to make with him [and there's really only one "him" he can be referring to here] as well as the fact that I was effectively dead, was enough to facilitate her being able to... send me back.

As far as I see it, it's only the timing of my arrival and the nature of the place that's allowed her to continue to exist herself, since it wasn't a done thing yet.

[pancakeboy]

[I don't have a bond with him. I don't have a fucking—

But he swallows. Pieces fall into place with the force of a skyscraper collapsing; he comes to a halt.]

A game to determine whether humanity deserved ruin or salvation. With you and—is it Ren? Or Akira? [He seems Ren-worldy]—as the pieces.

And you thought you won. Do I have it correct?

[pyrrhicjustice]

Screw gods, I should have won! I had him in the palm of my hand! I did everything right - and this was my reward.

[He stops, and while he's paused he just takes a moment to breathe.]

I messaged him, only a few days ago, because if anyone could figure out why the world no longer made sense, it would be him. I only remembered afterward that he wouldn't be replying.

[Another moment, to gather himself, and then-]

Who's "Ren"?

[pancakeboy]

[His fingernails have locked tightly against the palm of his hand, with two convenient layers of leather between them and skin. "Who's Ren", at least, he was prepared for; not a Ren world after all. But the rest of it—

He sounds clipped and clinical.] Joker goes by different names, depending on the world. Either Ren Amamiya or, as in your case—[clearly]—Akira Kurusu.

[Imagine that. Finally texting Ren because of a problem he couldn't solve, only to remember he'd shot him weeks before.]

You say the—[clown squad]—Thieves left the Palace? With you still alive there? [Because yes, he did notice that one.]

[pyrrhicjustice]

I beat them to within an inch of their lives not even a week before the election, so it was hardly as though they were going to be a threat.

[He's read it as "what, you let them leave alive?" which - maybe in another world, he wouldn't have done.]

I mean, one of them's a cat.