personavelvetroomdr | dropkicks him right into the velvet room

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dropkicks him right into the velvet room

[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?]

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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.

[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.

[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.]

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.

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.

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.]

[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.

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.]

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.]

Edited 2023-09-20 21:06 (UTC)

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.

[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?

Edited 2023-09-20 22:58 (UTC)

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"?

[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.]

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.

[Well... perhaps there's a little of that. But just a little. The Phantom Thieves may not be on his personal hitlist, but they're annoying as hell; he doesn't have to mean to kill someone to enjoy the thought of it.]

Cats have claws, if you don't break their legs fast. But this is a story I've already heard. In that version, Joker was present, and I was the the one who didn't make it out.

That's impossible.

[Because Joker's dead. Because there's no way they could have won against him at his full strength, and there weren't any other enemies that would have attacked him in there.]

Is that right?

[He doesn't say any more than that; just lifts his eyebrows, glancing sideways as they walk. Not all of them, clearly, succeed the way this one did. And not all of them—presumably, if what he's been told can be relied on—even make the attempt.]

I suppose... in theory... there could be a version of myself who didn't go through with the order.

[Saying the words is like pulling teeth. Perhaps one day that'll be him - that was his end of the deal, after all.]

But how likely do you think that would be, without outside interference?

[He isn't considering any other option.]

[He doesn't look around.] Funny you should say that. I'm aware of four versions of events now, including yours and my own, and you're the first to have succeeded.

So. Congratulations are in order, I suppose. Sorry it didn't work out.

[Dry as it is, he is sorry. The idea that killing Ren successfully or not might have made the difference was one of the last straws he had.]

Success. If anything's going to make me puke, it's the idea that that was success.

[And he really does feel nauseous for a hot minute there. He doesn't say anything else to chase that feeling away.]

One of the first clues about the god that erased me from the world was that I did it. He won the election, and then I told him. He- [Pause] already knew. Everything. So I tried to drag him down into hell with me, publicised it all. And no. One. Cared.

[His pace picks up, less because he wants to get there faster and more because it's something to focus on, to do. And of course it still hurts. But that's easier to deal with and work through.]

So, no. I don't think I will take your congratulations.

[Shit. It is the same scenario—the god that erased Okumura's group from cognition. And the same plan, to the letter. And—]

... what do you mean, they didn't care?

[In case you were wondering when this Akechi is from, that probably gives it away—he has not yet done what the other Akechi did.]

I know he'll try to suppress it. But that's not how it works, with a story that much fun. [Ugh. His voice thins; they have to care. He's counting on it. He's killed for it.]

... they have to care.

I mean, they didn't care. No one cared about anything. They just blathered on about how they no longer knew what to think, and since it was so hard, they just... gave up thinking for themselves.

[A thin smile. So thin.]

Oh, he tried to suppress it. But I don't think it would have made any difference even if he hadn't.

So you see? It was all meaningless.

No, wait a second. [He just... needs a moment here. He draws to a halt, grabs other-Akechi by the arm to turn him.]

It wasn't meaningless. I can adjust for that. I don't need the public!—you must agree? I already knew I was going to need a different lever—I can threaten him with a change of heart. [He knows there's no way he can take on Shido's Shadow.] If his reputation's immune, then I threaten him directly....

I can still make him pay! You must know that? [Oh, Akechi.]

And with what time? [He can't do much more than simply let himself be grabbed; he doesn't have the energy to break free and doesn't even care to.] When are you even from, anyway? A month ago? Two months?

And what was the entire mask of the righteous Detective Prince for anyway, if we didn't need the validation of a public that'll just throw us away the moment they don't need us anymore?

And if you fail, you just end up where I am - if Lavenza survives long enough to find you, that is. Or if she cares to trust you enough to try.

I never needed—! [But he breaks off. He can't lie to himself—not to his own face, at least. He knows he needed them—to call his name, to admire him; he'd liked it far too much. Like he knows, now, that he needed Shido to pat him on the head, to be torn down, defeated, overthrown.

That moment he's dreamed of, in the prime minister's offfice, when he would finally have been free. From all of it. Forever.]

It was the second when I left. November. I spoke to Shido the evening before. I was going to do it! [Just a bit of what he's feeling, bursting through his control.]

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